#but it became much easier and more pleasant for me

[diohvoik]

no horny

[teteminne]

Am I being a dick or is EVERY SINGLE PERSON IN THE PLANET SETTING OUT TO IRRITATE ME???????

[diejager]

Saccharine and Monstrosity pt.1

Pairing: Eldritch Horror!König x mermaid!reader

Cw: kidnapping, manipulation, DARK FIC, trap, luring, mention of breeding kink, protective König, mention of partial nudity, hunting, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 4K

I got inspired by @konigsblog ‘s post.

You enjoyed the sun as much as any other betta fish mermaid, laying on the warm rocks and bathing under the bright, yellow sun. You lived in a school of fish that moved near the shores of a tropical island a few generations before, building houses under the coral reef and rocks where newly placed branches would grow and work as a natural shield. The world you lived in - the part of the ocean you called your home - was bright and colourful, the shallow waters clear and gleaming under the warming sun.

You liked all things bright and colourful, either big or small, you decorated your part of the cave with things you found while swimming around your territory. Be it a golden coin shining on the ocean floor, or a shard of coloured glass, you picked it all up and stuck it around your room. Sometimes, you found pretty things near the limits of your home, and other times, you ventured closer to the edge of the darkness when something shiny caught your attention. 

Over the ridge of sand that drew the start of the darkness, that deep and menacing slope down to the deepest part of your ocean, where darker, meaner and cruel beings born of cruelty and madness lived. It was somewhere all mers were warned of, to stay far away from the darkness and never stray from the light that fed and protected you. You thrived in the light, your body absorbing the warmth from the sun that made your scales vibrant and feeding from the fauna and flora that lived beside you: seaweeds and small fishes. 

Your kind grew up with stories of horrifying monsters and cruel creatures that lived in that abyss, lingering near the shallow to catch a pretty, little mer for their hoard. Whatever became of the taken was still unknown, once a mer was taken by One, no one would hear from them from then on. Your parents had warned you about straying too close from the shallow, daring fate when you swam over the ridge to collect those pretty gems you fancied so much.

“Don’t worry,” you’d grin at her, fins flickering behind you. “I’m a fast swimmer, mom!”

You were a fast swimmer, slipping between rocks and corals, hands cradling your little shells while you fled from the dark, twisting over the ridge and vanishing between the corals. That’s what you did most days, picking up people’s trash to make it your treasure, fingers cleaning the sand off the holes and crevasses before sticking them to your walls. You also tinkered with metal creations you found, a silver fork or a rusted-looking instrument. 

Granted, you joined in hunts, catching sardines and herrings, claws digging into its scaled bodies and teeth ripping into its flesh, the only other taste being sea salt, or bathed under the sun, but you preferred scavenging for loot. Although mers hunted alone, most found it easier to do it in groups, swarming shoals of fish and catching in a group of a dozen at a time for your little colony. So when you were fed and rested, you were back out, treading the line between the shallow and the abyss.

You swam slowly, head turning left and right for anything that would catch your attention, for that small glint hidden under a thin veil of sand or a long metallic object sticking out from the ground. You already had a few things in your arms, a few shells, human objects thrown overboard or floated into the sea, and small treasures: white pearls. You picked things up from both sides, mind in a comfortable and pleasant space, prideful of your catch so far that you were oblivious of the eyes following your colourful body. 

His pale eyes wandered over your puffy cheeks and sweet lips, those squinted eyes in mirth as you searched for more. He went down the curve of your shoulders and the swell of your breasts, perky nipples covered by pretty shells, over your soft stomach and that bright, colourful tail of yours that first caught his attention. Every scale glistened under the sun, reflecting the light on the sand while you swam, your fins curving with the twist of your tail. 

You were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, an angel collecting treasure, just like he did. He saw the batch in your arms, clutched between your breasts when you dove to pick something up on his side. You were as adorable and innocent as you were pretty, your action oblivious of his predatory eyes, dipping into his territory without fear of retribution on his part. He liked that bold and daring attitude of yours, fitting for someone so courageously bright and flashing your bold colours to him. 

If he were to drop something closer to him, would you still swim towards it or ignore it for something closer to the ridge? If he hid until you were close enough, would he be able to wrap his limb around you? To feel your soft skin and coarse scales under his slimy arm. He was glad he decided to hunt today, searching for both prey - mer or fish, he isn’t picky about what he ate - and treasure. Hidden under a couple of tentacles, he dropped a golden coin a few feet away from him, his veil and the darkness helping him hide from your sight. 

His heart soared when he saw your eyes widen, a smile curling at the corners of your lips when you saw his little coin, diving towards him with enthusiasm. You were so close to him, hand stretching to grab the object with small, clawed fingers. When you held it in your hand, appraising it, he felt pride bubble in his chest, rising to his mind as he took this occasion to get his arm around you. You flinched when he wrapped the tip of his tentacle around your tail, squirming around in terror. In a panicked struggle to escape him, you dropped everything you’d collected and fled from him with a cry.

He watched you swim away from him through saddened eyes, hearing the thudding from the things you dropped, even the coin he gifted you. His eyes never left your fleeing body until you jumped over the edge, your tail the last thing he saw in that moment of self-deprivation and sadness. He hoped you’d come back, forgetting the fear of his sudden attention and daring fate once more.

He came the next day and the day after that, but you weren’t there, your precious smile and happy eyes were a memory in his mind, a fleeting moment in his gloomy world. He came back every day, hiding in the darkness, on the line between pitch darkness and light shading. He wished you were there every day, his eyes bleeding with optimism and hope for a single smidgen of bright colours. 

He hadn’t seen you in the following week. His shoulders slumped and caved into himself in sadness every time he came by, his blue eyes dulling bit by bit, that hopeful thinking drowning under realistic thinking and a pessimistic mind. Then he caught a glimpse of colour against the white sand. Before long, he saw arms filled with shiny items, trailing nearer to your side than his, but still chasing for treasures. 

If he wanted to approach you, to touch your soft-looking skin and run his arms over your scaled tail, he’d have to find a way to lure you in. He watched you the first few days, his tentacles curling on itself and burying himself in the sand, the hundreds of suckers searching for buried treasures to leave for you. When you turned your back to him, his unwinding arm left the things he found near the ridge for you to find and take. Little gifts for you, courting gifts he left and gifted you in an attempt to woo you. 

You were skittish and fleeing but took all his gifts with shaky smiles and grateful eyes, you knew he gave them to you. Of course, you did, you were his brave and smart little mermaid, approaching his offerings with apprehension - he felt hurt you feared and got nervous around him, but he understood you, his kind ate yours - and scanned the sand around you for any danger before crossing the line. He felt giddy when you added them to your stack, his mind-blowing with dreams and thoughts of you decorating your little cave with the things he gave you. On the ceiling, against the wall and on the ground or surfaces, you would use the things he gave you for your home. 

It sent him up the walls of his caves with joy and excitement, his limbs curling to rearrange his home to prepare for you, to accommodate your arrival to his big, lonely home.

It took a week or two - or so he thought, his perception of time was and had always been warped in some way - before you became comfortable enough to approach him, to let him curl his slimy tentacle around your tail and up your body. He could finally feel you and it made him ecstatic - he was over the moon every time he got to touch you. Little pokes, fleeting squeezes and feathery bites from his suckers on your flesh, all things he let himself taste before your coupling. A coupling between the prettiest and the cruellest beings in the ocean would unwind the seams that made your worlds, pulling the string that separated the beauty and the beast in this cursed universe.

Granted, you hesitated to cross into the pitch darkness of the abyss, dancing just a few inches from his abode with an armful of trinkets from König. Your slow and steady breath, words you blessed him with when you muttered to him, calling out to know if he was there and your grateful grin were a common, yet welcome sight in his daily swim. While a bit reluctant to join him on the other side, you eventually swam across, your eyes melting into the black before you. You were unseeing as much as you were blind, if not for the guiding palm of the Eldritch creature that you befriended and the shine of treasure you saw around him. 

You wished you could see anything but the gleam of treasure and the black mist of the abyss, your hand wandered over his, searching for his body, to feel the one who’s been gifting you treasures. Your fingers trailed upwards, feeling the tightness of his muscles, the curves and hardness of his arms were sinful. You truly wished you could see him at this moment, but you kept at your advance, clawed fingers moving slowly with unbridled curiosity. When you reached his broad shoulders and well-pronounced chest, it rumbled, a purr coming from König. Its deep sound shook you with need, your tail enthusiastically moving back and forth as you listened to him. 

“Are you happy, Schatz?”

His voice was even better than his soft purrs, in a way that made you want to melt into his arms and never bother moving if he kept talking to you, the sound of the creature that gave you gifts and affection. König’s spine-chilling voice seemed like a mix of many voices, both soft and raspy, and both deep and smooth, but it was something you enjoyed, that you found yourself liking a bit too much. 

“Yes,” you breathed, eyes travelling skyward, towards the source of his voice.

Your breath caught in your throat, choking a gasp at the prettiest blues you’d seen staring down at you. They were majestic, gem-like with a pretty sheen that made them glow like a beacon of light. You wondered why you’d never seen them, seeing how bright his eyes were. They lit up his face, or the veil he wore over his face, showing the pale streak of makeshift tears down the incision he made for his eyes. You shamelessly admired him, unbothered by the lost puppy-like stare you gave him in your glowing beauty. 

You’d crossed a threshold, where a creature of light never dared to cross, stepping into the arms of an Old One and embracing their madness. Although you were oblivious to his intentions, the loud proclamation of his courting rituals and attempts of crying out his love - the Old One’s rituals and cultures were much of a mystery to those who didn’t study them, much of a taboo for anyone outside of delusion and greed - he hadn’t refrained from his deliberate show that would be nearly shameful and embarrassing to others of his kind. 

Some wouldn’t bother with such frivolous acts: confessions from the deepest part of their dark soul, proclamation of love and undying adoration, or having to scavenge for gifts - offerings - to the subject of their attention. His kind took and took, reaching for that small glimmer of hope and beauty and corrupted it, bending it to their liking and building something from the ashes. It wouldn’t - would never - be the same as they were before, but that was how the Old Ones liked it: control, corruption, ruin, madness and power.

König wouldn’t do that, he wanted to cherish you, add to what you were and watch it bloom like those bioluminescent creatures in the abyss; even against his creator’s wishes. He’ll put you on the highest pedestal he has, eternally imprinting the image of you as his most precious treasure into his mind. You’ll be a thing of miracles, a thing of blessings, a thing of new beginnings. He wanted all and everything with you, but he’d have to take it slow, to coax you into this redundant pattern that ensured your trust and comfort and have you follow him of your own volition. 

He doesn’t mind waiting, he’s had hundreds of years of sitting and waiting, patience was a virtue he grew to learn, to hold in his giant palm and clutch like a gift from the ever-growing, chaotic universe. He can wait and plan, so he will, König will lay down his plan and wait until he can bring it to reality.

Wait he did, for you to grow comfortable enough to follow him deeper and let him pull you in from your side. It took you a month of back and forth, squirming around your infatuation with König and exchanging trinkets, words and fleeting kisses with him. He adored your little giggles when he traced your sides with a bolt tentacle, curling under your plush tits and the tip sliding under your strap. He loved the pretty shells you gave him, cleaned from sand and any barnacles, it showed him how much time you spent on it for him. His heart bloomed and swelled to impossible heights when you pecked his lips, giving him shy and gentle kisses that he grew addicted to. 

You were so sweet and so soft, your lips the taste of heaven for a creature of madness. Your hands were gentle like a cool balm over a burn, soothing his wild thoughts. Your little gifts for him - reciprocating his affection - were currently the most important things in his cave, a sign of your love and devotion. It made him wonder what would you let him do once you gave yourself to him. Would you succumb to the everlasting pleasures he could give you, or would you demand to help him take care of his own in a mutual haze? He couldn’t help himself, letting his chaotic mind conjure the most absurd and erotic dreams, his body vibrating with excitement; and now, at the peak of your trust in him, he watched his plan - a well-placed trap - come to fruition. 

“Come, Schatz,” he beckoned you forward, his burly arm stretching to coax you to follow him, holding out his open palm to you. “I have something I want to show you. Pretty things.”

Without a thought, to question his intentions or to ask why he couldn’t have bought them for you like he usually did, you took his hand and let his fingers curl over yours, intertwining your smaller digits to his as he pulled you to his chest. His embrace was as safe and pleasant as the last one - yesterday - and caused a flurry of emotions to erupt in your chest, he was warm in the cool darkness, loving in all the ways you could think. You could close your eyes and imagine a smile rippling across his face with joyfully squinted eyes peering down at you. 

Held against his chest, his other arm wrapped around your waist with a firm squeeze of his hand where your skin turned to scales. He whispered sweet promises, words of encouragement to see the way to his home and excited explanations of what awaited you. Pretty things, he said, you knew what he meant - at least you think you did - you shared much in common, and pretty things were something you both agreed on: shiny metals, interesting trinkets, shimmering shells or finely-minted coins. All things humans valued before throwing away; one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. 

How unfortunate that you couldn’t see in the dark, yet how fortunate you wouldn’t know the way back, it was something he relied on heavily to keep you, if you didn’t know how to navigate in this utter blindness, there were no risks of you trying to escape his caring hand. You were smart, you wouldn’t simply venture off without knowing where to go and how to see, especially with how vast his territory was and how dangerous it was. He shared his home with other simple-minded animals, sharks, fishes, eels and any other abyssal creature that lived and depended on the dark to live. 

Your innocent curiosity about the things he deemed pretty enough to hoard made his heartbeat, that addicting feeling he got from touching you, kissing you and speaking to you. Even if the deeper he went, the colder it became, you never once complained, your wide eyes and grinning face were the only thing you gave him. He was truly relieved to know that you were patient and understanding of his home, not one hiss or pout while you shook and clung to him, depending on him for warmth. He liked that, to see you rely on him so much. 

“We’re here, mein Liebling,” he hushed, cradling your face as he dove down, through the entrance of his cave. He shielded your fragile body with his many arms, protecting you from the rush of water current flowing against him. He chose this one to build his nest, using the strong current as a natural barrier against weaker creatures. 

When the waters calmed to a still, he loosened his hold on you, unravelling his arms to let you explore the many passages and alcoves in his home. To accommodate you, he strung up bioluminescent flora, using them as light to find your way around, with silken algae over a few rocks to mimic the beds mers slept in and a few other things that he thought you’d need: a mirror, a few floating plants to add to its mystical beauty and clusters of soft materials in nearly every room. 

He let you wander, your tail flapping back and forth to lead you down the long hall and explore the many rooms. He used a room to sleep, one as a pantry and storage, and another one to hold his hoard, but he had a lot of empty and unused space, more than enough for you and your children to thrive. He wanted to let you roam at your own pace, but he had something to show you, something he was proud of making. 

He pulled you from your little cloud of joy, wrapping an arm around you, his sticky suckers latching onto you as he coaxed you his way. Only then had you taken the time to admire König under blue light, cheeks warm with a burning flush and doe-like eyes staring at the naked expense of his hard abdomen, stomach sculpted to perfection that had Adonis shying away. His arms were big and round, muscles straining the scarred skin with delicious appeal. 

Downwards, following the sharp dip of his navel, were dozens of dark tentacles lined with round, pulsing suckers. Like an octopus, they were covered in a slimy sheen, every limb flexible and able to move independently. The lower ones were thick and soft, acting as a cover for whatever he hid beneath them, while some were thinner, whose source came from under his veil. Those, however, were a mix of normal and horrific tentacles, some had eyes replacing the usual suckers, tinted in the same colour as his irises, that glowing, pale blue. 

It made your body heat up, fingers tingling with nerves - or was it? When faced with something you found appealing, it’d be natural to feel flustered, no? König thought so, that’s how he spent the first days reacting to you, heating up to a bothersome flush to everything you did. He watched your awed stare, that daydreaming haze in your eyes when you looked him over, his whole body clear under the gentle light in his cave. 

“This way.”

Without making your gaze leave his figure, he drew you in, heading towards his biggest room where he caught and strung everything to fit his pleasure and mood. It was somewhere deeper into the system with walls strong and sturdy, and the round ceiling higher than the other rooms. On one side was a pile of golden objects of all shades, light yellow to a darkish gold, nearly bronze; on the other was a mix of pretty silver things and metallic black objects, rusted by age and the salty ocean; and on another, the smallest of them all, comprised of a few dozens of colourful shells and corals frozen in time that you’d given him. 

He saw your chest expand, your smile growing brighter and brighter at the pile of gifts you gave him, your bubbly laugh as you swam towards it, twirling around it proudly. You looked around the room, admiring his large collection and how it seemed to spill down every pile in an attempt to reach the other one, forming a protective ring around your presents, but always coming back to the bright pink, blue and yellow shells. You were happy and appreciative of the time he spent working and arranging his hoard. If he could, he’d preen and purr to you, to show just how much your proud smile meant to him, watching you appraise his work was satisfying. 

He already felt like things were falling into place perfectly, he could see the life he had envisioned with you coming to life, the little intricacies that popped into his mind seeming too appealing. His dreams were slowly becoming a reality, the things that he could only imagine were now tangible to his hands, and the future he salivated at was so, so close that he could sink his teeth into its flesh. 

He knew it. He knew it when he watched you swim to him with that big, adorable smile on your face, that it was in his hands. He could see it now, how his lonely cave would be filled with life and laughter, children with a mix of your beauty and his madness chasing one another between the many openings and your round, swollen stomach welcoming another of your children to the world. That was all he could think of while he cradled you in his arms, his tentacles latching to your tail and back. 

“You’re happy, ja?”

Next

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @candlewitch-cryptic @im-making-an-effort @0alk0msan 

[kteezy997]

The Emperor's Wife// Paul Atreides

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, slow burn kinda

"That princess shall have no more of me than my name. No child of mine nor touch nor softness of glance, nor instant of desire." The promise of Paul Atreides as he ascended your father's throne was held true for some time. But his words began to falter in time, against his will.

He married you, but remained loyal to his concubine, Chani. But he did acknowledge that you had a literary nature, and he entrusted you to sit in on his council meetings as Emperor. The more time you spent around each other, the more you became companions, and the more he relied on your mind to help him keep a balance of things.

You noticed as Paul started to become more relaxed around you. He'd even have a laugh with you now and then. It was clear that he valued your friendship as much as your ability to write and make sense of things.

One day Paul joked that Chani was his wife of passion and you were his intellectual wife. Your feelings had started to form into deep admiration for your husband, so his words were course against your ears. Though you knew that this was the way it had to be, it wasn't any easier to hear him say it.

But there was a look from him, a look where he scanned you, slowly, from head to toe. Your special training had kicked in. You could feel it; it was desire. He thought his momentary glance would go undetected, but that was nary the case.

All the late evenings in the council room, all the discussions you had about history and his interest in your writings, it all bubbled up to his vow being broken. You caught his gaze in a meeting later, and his green eyes could no longer lie to you. He was curious and desirous of you. But he could not do anything about it. He simply could not act on it.

But you, on the other hand, were tired of the intellectual relationship. This feeling was different for you, and you never expected to fall for him. Your body ached, your skin burned for your husband. Even if it was just once, you had to have him.

You hated to admit to yourself the jealousy you felt toward his Fremen woman. You wanted to feel what Chani felt. Just one full moment of Paul's desire. You needed his touch. To exchange passionate breaths with him. To have the weight of the handsome Emperor on top of you. To have his eyes on you, and only you.

..........

You ventured to Paul's sietch, into the private apartment he shared with Chani. The Fremen in the village knew you, so they did not try to stop you, or persuade you to leave. They welcomed you with respect, as you were indeed Muad’Dib’s wife.

The room was quite plain and modest for an Emperor and his woman. The bed, however, looked cozy with glow globes on either side. The scent of cinnamon and coffee hung in the air, laced with the spice melange.

You hoped he'd come soon. You hoped he would be the first one in, and not Chani. You didn't know what to say to her, if that would be the case. She had always been pleasant toward you when you were around her, but you didn’t know if her attitude would remain the same if she knew you wanted to bed her man.

You hoped that he wouldn't be harsh towards you; that he wouldn’t be angry about you invading the space he shared with his concubine. You liked to think that you had broken his walls and exposed the tender side of him. You sat on the bed, waiting.

Finally, you heard footsteps approaching, there was a tired huff from the person outside the door, and you knew the voice instantly. Paul came in, pulling off his still suit the second he entered. He didn't see you at first. You saw his shoulders and chest as he rid himself of the rubbery material. He was strong, with hard muscles and pale skin with minor scars here and there.

You could smell the dirt and sweat that he carried. It did not deter you in the slightest, but made you more eager.

He could sense you there. You knew he could.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, without even turning to face you.

You took a shaky breath, then answered, "I wanted to see you, Paul."

He finished freeing his arms from the constrictive suit, turning to look at you sitting on his bed. "And why?"

You were excited just seeing his shoulders, but now you saw his naked chest, his hard pectoral muscles and small nipples. You nearly shuddered with need. "I-uhm," I want you. "I wanted to make sure that you saw how bright and beautiful the two moons look this evening. And maybe you'd like to see my latest Muad'Dib chronicle?"

Paul nodded, "Hm." He stepped over to the window, looking up at the moons, "They are quite beautiful tonight."

You rose from the bed, joining him by the window. You could really feel his presence now, as you usually didn't get quite this close to him. His scent was stronger, too. "I brought my latest writings. If you want to read."

"Sure. You may leave them here."

He was so polite, but never overly kind. He couldn't disrespect Chani. But you so wanted things to change between you and your husband.

"Paul, I really came here to talk to you about something."

He took his eyes off the night sky outside his window and looked into your eyes. "Go on."

Your heart started thumping in your chest, you cleared your throat. "Well, I do not wish to overstep, but I think you and I have both come to enjoy our time together. I think it is safe to say that we are good friends now." You got stuck for second as you got a close look of the sweat glistening on his skin in the glowing light of the dark room.

Paul softly smiled, giving you a nod to keep going.

"But, I need you to know that no matter how amazing the moons might be on a starry night, it is no match for the way I feel when I look at you."

His expression fell, and he shook his head, "Y/n, please. I am very flattered. I appreciate you, and I care for you."

You butted in, "I can sense that you desire me, Paul. You've already broken your oath. I know that you feel distant towards your concubine, and I wonder if it has anything to do with how you feel about me."

He chuckled, walking away from you, "I thought you said you didn't wish to overstep?"

"I cannot help it. I'm sorry. But you know my training." You genuinely didn't want to disrupt anything between him and Chani.

He ran his hand over his face, pushing away the exhaustion of the day, trying to make sense of his own feelings as well. "Y/n, you aren't wrong. Chani knows that my sentiments for you have shifted."

So he admits it!

"You haven't bedded her for weeks now, have you?" you prodded, carefully.

"No," he stepped closer to you, towering over you by several inches, "not that it is any of your business."

"I don't want to make you angry, Paul. But I have seen the way you look at me, the way you brush passed me during council. You've preferred spending more and more time with me lately." You took a step forward this time, just a foot's length away from him.

Paul let his guard down, knowing that you were right about everything. His face softened, and he brought his hand up to caress your face. His hand had been roughed up by the wind and sand if the desert, but you could still see yourself melting against it as he touched you.

Paul went on to say, "You should know by now how I feel for you. But it cannot be. I made a promise. I don't ever want to be cruel to you, my y/n." he licked his dry lips, and you noticed just how blue his eyes were as a result of spice addiction. "I did not marry you for things such as love or children, you know that."

"Yes, I know." you sighed, having heard that piece of information a hundred times during your marriage. "My husband, you are a loyal man. I admired you for that, but I don't wish for anything more than the same love that you have for your concubine. You can share that tenderness with me."

He said nothing, but kept his hand on your cheek, gazing at you so fondly.

You could sense him breaking for you. "Paul," you leaned closer, placing your hand on his exposed chest, "I have seen the way your eyes narrow at me when I bow before you as my Emperor."

Then, his hand wound tightly into your hair, and his lips were being smashed against yours. He pulled you against him, he moaned into your kiss. His hands were on your body, sliding up the curves of your hips.

Your body was electrified, you ran your hands through his hair, not caring how sweaty he was. The hunger was equal on both sides.

Paul pulled away suddenly, sighing as he turned away from you.

He was still wrestling in his mind, you knew it. "I need you." you said, melancholy taking over your tone as you started to believe he was going to refuse you completely, "I need my husband. I want to made love to by Muad'Dib." You went over to him, looking at his back you noticed a scar, larger than the others on his body. You wondered if the mark was result of a fall on a sand dune or maybe the consequence of riding the great sandworm. You reached out, cautiously running your finger along the scar.

He shivered at your touch, but he didn't shy away.

You decided that maybe this plan was fruitless, that he wouldn't, and never could love you the proper way in which a man loved his wife. "Paul, if you do not love me, I will leave now. You'll never see me come back to this place. I will accept being wrong. Things will go back as they were."

"No, please, don't go." he faced you again. He relaxed more, his body language and the look in his eyes was more at ease.

"Then stop me, my dear husband."

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @bitchyunknownuser @lixzey @kpopgirlbtssvt @ducktapebar

[itsjunear]

Unspoken words

Note: Hey loves! I'm sorry for disappearing again, I was on vacation, and I'm terrible at managing my time. I finished my first semester at university and have started the second one (send help, please 💀), so all the accumulated stress made me want to write. Thank you for taking the time to read this! 💙💙 I'm sorry if it's a mess, but I hope it entertains you a bit! I've discovered that I enjoy writing angst, so I think that's my path.

P.S.: Azriel will always make me sigh, but I admit that Cassian is my favorite bat boy, so I'll include him everywhere.

Anyway, I love you all!💙💙 Every like and reblog is appreciated! Just a reminder that English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake, don't hesitate to tell me!

Words: 1k+ Warnings: None, just angst Summary: The reader saw at the family dinner how Azriel and Elain worked together. It made something inside her stir, and the feelings she had been hiding became painfully unbearable.

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

For the Mother.

It was the only thought that came to mind before I dodged Cassian's blow. My reflexes definitely weren't at their best today, and we both knew it. So, I just rolled my eyes at the smug smile on Cassian's face.

I had slept less than three hours because every time I closed my eyes, the image I so desperately wanted to get out of my mind was the only thing I saw. So, I had tossed and turned in bed until dawn, which is why my body was so exhausted and dodging blows felt like torture. I wasn't even trying to attack him, just to hold my ground. That's how pathetic I was being today.

I didn't even anticipate Cassian's move until I felt his legs sweeping mine out from under me, and my back hit the ground. I gasped as the air left my lungs and let out a groan from the impact.

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" I heard his voice ask before his wings spread out above me, shielding my eyes from the direct sunlight.

I sighed, exhausted, and gave up, stretching my arms out and relaxing my muscles. He just crossed his arms and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Since when are you so bad at fighting?"

I huffed and pulled my limbs in until I was sitting up. "Don't feed your ego too much. I'm just not having a good day."

I felt him scrutinize me with his eyes, narrowing them before he sighed and dropped his body next to mine.

"What's going on?" he asked softly, even his hazel eyes had turned gentler.

I could tell him, I knew I could, just as I knew he would keep quiet. But verbalizing what I felt, how I felt, would make everything more real.

"It's nothing. It's just my head, you know" I lied, downplaying it.

Cassian stayed silent next to me for a few seconds before I felt his hand press my shoulder. Of course, he had read the lie.

I sighed. Maybe I could tell him what I had seen yesterday, the connection between a certain shadow singer and the youngest Archeron sister at dinner, but telling him would mean explaining why it affected me so much.

"It's nothing, Cass. It's just that…" I paused to think a bit. "Have you ever felt cornered? Like you're running away from something you don't want to face… But once everything happens before your eyes, there's nowhere left to run."

I looked at him uncertainly, trying to hide the feeling of desperation and sadness. He came closer to me and put one of his arms around my shoulders, ignoring how sweaty we both were, before giving me a look of understanding and nodding gently.

"It's not a pleasant feeling" he agreed. "But I also know that if there's no place left to run, all you can do is face it, or whatever is haunting you will devour you."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is," was his only response before he shrugged "Being over five hundred years old doesn't make things easier."

"It's just that…" I swallowed thickly and finally decided to show him my vulnerable side. "Yesterday…"

However, before I could utter a word, the sound of boots hitting the ground alerted me, and I forced myself to keep my mouth shut. Cassian reacted by frowning and turned to see who it was. I mimicked his action, and when I saw a pair of wings accompanied by dark tendrils, I tensed a little.

I understood that Az had wanted us to hear him coming. So, I didn't flinch when he stood there studying us for a moment.

"Am I interrupting?"

I gave Cassian a quick, discreet glance, trying to convey that we'd finish the conversation later. He looked at me confused, but I shook my head, and he nodded in agreement without insisting.

He pressed my shoulder again before changing his position, still on the ground, but his attention now directed to his brother.

"So, your ass remembered we had training today and decided to show up, huh, Az?" he let out, instantly changing the mood of the place.

"I had a meeting with Rhys" Azriel replied simply, with one corner of his mouth lifted. "You look defeated."

Cassian's wings twitched, and I had to hold back a smile to speak. "He kicked my ass, actually, and now he's here on the ground pitying me."

Az smiled, and for a moment, I had to remind myself that this was nothing, that I shouldn't get any ideas in my head that would only go one way. He was off-limits, and continuing to think that way made my chest ache, so I forced myself to look away and focus on his shadows, some roaming the space, others coiling around his neck, whispering things in his ear.

"Hard to believe after the beating Rhys gave you yesterday" he mocked.

"That's not true" Cassian made an indignant noise before getting up from the ground and heading to the secluded area where we could rest for a while.

Grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts, I laughed as Az approached, and my joy faded a bit when I noticed he was stretching out his hand to help me up. I looked at him and hesitated, but I didn't want him to misinterpret my hesitation, knowing how his mind would tell him it was because of his scars. So, I took his hand, preferring my pain over his, even though these small gestures were what hurt me the most at the end of the day.

I thanked him without looking at him to soften the blow and prevent him from noticing my expression.

"I'm ready to fight you. Whenever you want" Cassian said as he drank water and tied his hair again with the leather strap Nesta had given him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the competitive flame ignite in Az's face. Then I knew it was time to leave and pray to The Caldroun that neither of them would bleed today.

I walked over to Cassian, with Azriel on my heels, and took some water too, while looking for a towel to dry off. Az guessed what I wanted and handed me one that was next to him.

"Thanks" I repeated again without looking at him.

I said nothing more because I feared the lump that was slowly forming in my throat, but I could feel his gaze scrutinizing me. Nevertheless, I ignored it. I was determined to get rid of all the damn feelings.

As much as it hurt me more than I let on.

"I have to go, Cass. See you later" I said, patting his shoulder.

He nodded, smiling, looking for my gaze. "I'll look for you in the library" he replied, referring to finishing the conversation.

I nodded, and he returned to the training ring. So I turned to Azriel, who was already taking off his shirt, and I had to swallow hard. Seeing him in all his glory was always breathtaking, seeing his bronzed skin, every sculpted muscle, scar, and Illyrian tattoos.

But I would have to learn to forget him. There was no other option.

"See you later, Az" I said, also saying goodbye as I walked past him.

Or rather, trying to. Because he gently took my arm and spread his wings a bit, halting my path and blocking my way.

I had to hold back a shiver and looked at him, full of confusion.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

I could feel his eyes searching for answers in mine, even the cold brush of one of his shadows on the arm he still held. The only thing I could think of was to look away and nod.

"Yeah, why?" I replied in the calmest tone I could muster.

He said nothing, but I could still feel him trying to decipher something. As if he were searching for answers somewhere in me and couldn't find them anywhere.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded without saying anything, trying to bury my feelings deep inside. I was terrified; nothing good would come of letting anything surface. I'd rather spend a thousand years in The Prison than ruin the peace that existed in everyone's lives.

Still, I knew I hadn't convinced him that everything was fine, but I also knew he was kind enough not to push me. So finally, after a moment of doubt, he let me go and lowered his wing to let me pass.

"See you later, Az" I said again, escaping so quickly that he had no time to hold me back again or even say anything.

Once a few steps away, I felt the tension leave my body, and I let the expression of concern take over my face. I tried not to look back, I swear I did, but before going down the stairs, I turned my head a bit, only to find Az's worried gaze.

Maybe I should have bothered to change my expression, but, anyway, it didn't matter. Nothing would change, so I just continued my way down the stairs while a feeling of sadness took over my chest.

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list. I wasn’t sure if those who had previously asked still wanted to be included, so just let me know if you still want to be tagged!

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 11 - Park Jihyo x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

You had only been married a few couples of hours. There are still a lot of things inside boxes in your new house, but you and your wife Jihyo have no plans to make the place look like an actual home anytime soon. You are very busy with other kinds of things, something much more pleasant. 

Currently Jihyo is against the wall of the hall that leads to your room, while you're kissing her neck. Both of you are half naked, with a lot of missing clothes but full of passion and horniness. Your fingers are working over her clothed pussy, making her panties wet, while her hands are inside your pants grabbing your ass. 

“Ta-take me to bed…” She manages to say between moans, and following the desires of your wife you get off of, taking off your clothes. She does the same, only leaving her pair of already wet panties. Then you lift Jihyo and with her in your arms you cross the door of your new matrimonial room. Inside things are much more like a normal house, with some boxes but at least the bed is perfectly made. 

You gently put Jihyo on the bed and start kissing her again, starting a battle of tongues between your mouths. Your hands run over her body grabbing her big breast and squeezing them, they barely can be contained for your fingers. The soft meath of her full boobs spills between your digits. That sensacion makes your dick harder than diamond, now your member is throbbing on demand for being inside your wife. 

You pat her thighs to let your wife know that you want her legs spread for you and she does, allowing you to put a hand inside her panties. Now her pussy It's wetter than before, already soaked. And became even weather when your fingers play with her folds and clit, making her moan like crazy in your mouth. 

“Paties off.” You demand breaking the kiss you were sharing, and before you put your fingers on your mouth in order to clean Jihyo’s slick from them. Your wife obediently raises her legs and takes off her ruined wet panties, throwing them over a random box. Then she opens her thighs again and uses her fingers to spread her folds, offering to you her delicious pussy. That view almost made your cock explode instantly.

“Come and put your kids inside your wife.” Jihyo demands making the dirtiest face you have ever seen her pull off, while her fingers are playing with her entrance. Making it wet and shiny for you. 

The way she pronounces “Wife” awakens something new in you. She’s right, this is the first time you going to fuck your wife and she’s already demanding you to breed her. You have to be a good husband and be up to the challenge, so you kneel between her open legs and grab Jihyo by her thighs. She bites her lower lips staring directly at your eyes, demanding you to put your hard shaft inside her, so you do it. With a long single movement you slide your entire length inside her cunt, and she gladly receives it. 

Both of you are moaning at the time you began to thrust inside her, going as deep as you can. She’s wet and you’re hard, the perfect mash. Her walls clenched over your shaft, and your head pushed them back on an infinite pleasant dance. Her entire body trembles with each one of your thrust, making her big breast bounce with an insane rhythm that is hypotonic to you. Between her loud moans, her tiddies bouncing, or the wet sounds the collision of your shaft and her pussy is doing you don’t know what is driving you crazy the most. All you know is that this woman in front of you, your wife, is demanding your semen and you have to fullifies her needs. You just swore to do it just a few hours ago. 

Now you grab her by the waist and lift a little bit her body, making it easier for you to fuck her. Your muscles are burning but all you can think now is to fill Jihyo’s womb with all the seed you can produce. Your balls are already tenses threatening to spit hot semen inside your wife, as she wants it. 

“Come on Babe, fill me. Shoot all you have inside me.” Another demand your wife does using her high pitch voice, that let you know she’s close too. And how could you not do what your wife lovely ask you to do? So you don’t hold it anymore and allow your balls to unload a big batch of hot semen inside her pussy. 

You keep fucking Jihyo, like if you were stuffing your milk as deep as you could, till the last drop leave your head. Then hard breathing you collapse over her, with your shaft still inside her pussy. Jihyo hugs and kiss you, and you can see she’s proud of the load you just put inside of her, but also you can feel she still wants more from you. “What if you put another batch inside me? I wanna be sure my hot and strong husband gives me all he has.” 

“And what if you put on all fours so your husband can clap your cheeks?” You ask, smiling at the time you sit back on your knees allowing Jihyo to do as you want. 

Now Jihyo is with her ass up on the hair waiting for you to slide your cock inside her again. If you werent ready to fuck her again, the view you have in front of your eyes make you as hard as you can. Your wife have her back curved on an impossible arch, like if she were some kind of cat stretching, and that makes her already plump ass look even bigger. That plus the fact that her thighs are open allowing you to see her wet pussy dripping juices over her legs and her perfectly shaped bush. Oh god! You freaking love this woman and the many ways she have to drive you crazy. 

“Come on.” She say shaking her ass. “Put your dick to work. we aren’t leaving this room until you put some kids in my womb.” Smiling you spank your wife's ass before aligning the head of your dick with the entrance and bury your shaft ass deep as you can inside her pussy once again. 

[livelovecucumber]

a question related to your post about hitting your ugw, do you have any big regrets about your weight loss process in particular or advice you'd give to your past self (or someone with similar goals)? and, since most of us are at least partially motivated by the idea of being less of a target for negative attention if we get thinner, would you say hitting your ugw actually made your life easier socially or just came with different problems?

First of all I’ll make a separate post on my advice and what helped me get to my ugw, but as for my regrets on my journey; I regret eating the way I did. I was vegetarian at the time and ate a lot of very processed vegetarian food and meat substitutes, which is not good for you, and lacks nutritional value. I also drank a lot of caffeine. I will not be doing any of that this time around as my health got greatly affected last time.

I would also say I regret not being more mindful of others, how my 3d behaviour affected others. Others seemed like they weren’t prone to this behaviour so I could say whatever I wanted and talk bad about myself or food around them. It’s extremely egotistical to think this way bc any small thing you say can affect someone negatively. So this time around I will keep all food and self hate chat to myself and those that specifically ask. I am not a victim and shouldn’t feel sorry for myself. All that does is make my behaviour towards others distasteful, pathetic and non-compassionate.

As for how it affected my social life: I’d say it created a different problem. Food became such a central theme that I neglected my mental health and my relationships, so they collapsed. I also felt like everyone around me either seemed envious, lustful or worried, which none of those were pleasant. I felt like I was constantly being worriedly watched over by the people around me or just judged/envied by them. It was isolating. People assume you can take more shit, at they same time they feel sorry for you (or pretend to). It’s a weird thing. I found people made wayyy more comments (negative & positive) abt my body when I was underw8 compared to overw8. No one would talk about my looks when I was overw8. I was at school at the time so the social dynamics didn’t really change THAT much as we all had established relationships. But you will find people that are worth keeping, that really are there for YOU, not ur body. Those are the keepers.

PS: Don’t talk shit abt food or ur body in front of other people that don’t ask for it. It’s egotistical and you can seriously damage someone, even if they don’t say it bothers them. Just don’t do it. Don’t infect other people.

[astrumark]

── YOU GOT ME SLIPPIN', ACTIN' LAZY ★.

PAIRING: aemond targaryen x female reader.

SUMMARY: you see aemond with his hair up for the first time, and it is distracting.

WARNINGS: fluff, curse words, suggestive themes.

WC: 1.4K

You believe you are having a very vivid dream, that you are still wrapped in silky sheets and foolishly thinking you already started the day. This could mean you were late to your daily practices with the one-eyed prince, and that could simply not do. He would be beyond displeased. But the sight in front of you could have easily been the fruit of your imagination. 

When you moved to the Red Keep after your betrothal with Prince Aemond for proper courting, you were astonished by his fervent desire for you to begin to train with the sword and to learn self-defense. Personally. 

"I cannot have my future wife being defenseless, can I?" He said. "As much as I love protecting you, my darling, it's beyond my power to guarantee I will always be around." 

You cherished it. Your first encounters as betrotheds, like is commonly done, to walk around the gardens or drink tea during the afternoon was filled with awkward silence and useless small talk, but not the training. 

It was a lot more smooth since there was a purpose to your meeting. You moved your bodies around and got too occupied to talk beyond the necessary, and somehow, it seemed to improve your relationship more than any other activity you have tried before. It's a fun way to bond before the wedding and you felt yourself getting closer to the prince each day. The air between you rapidly shifted for one of mutual respect and slight teasing.

And it was rewarding as well, to test and improve your body and abilities. The soreness of your muscles became pleasant, and you have grown to feel more motivated and stronger, looking forward to it each dawn. 

Your only complaint is that it was too early, having to be awake even before the sun was entirely up. To look at your window and see a gray sky was simply distasteful. Aemond claimed it was necessary to avoid undesirable attention and comments. Usually, it was only the two of you and very few passing servants.

And this is how you would always find yourself in the chilly training yard first thing after you'd awake, a mist often covering the spot in the early hour.

The same mist that makes you doubt your eyes, but when the tall man stops just a few inches away from you, there is no mistaking it. Aemond has his hair up in a ponytail. 

And he looks fabulous. You are unable to avert your eyes, never have seen him with any other hairstyle besides the half-up one. His angled face full on display makes your stomach tingle with excitement.

You could almost visualize him in an extravagant armor competing in tourneys if only he liked it. It made him look like a warrior, but you also noticed the intimacy of it. You could see him with his hair in such a style in your private chambers during the morning as well, chest exposed and thin sheets wrapped around his waist after a passionate night. Warmth flooded your body, and suddenly, all your sleepiness disappeared. 

"Good morrow, my lady," He says quietly. "Slept well?"

"Yes, my Prince, thank you. What about you?" You bring your attention back to the table full of throwing knives in front of you. 

"As usual." He hums. "Would you like to try these first?" 

"Yes, please." 

"Choose one or two and come." He orders, already placing himself near the target.

You watch him from afar for a minute, completely amused, you don't think you have ever considered him as handsome as right now, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest any minute.

Aemond sets himself behind you as you position yourself as he taught you before, holding the other knife for you. You are grateful for his mercy since it was much easier to resist the urge to stare at him when he was out of your sight.

You aim the knife at the wooden target and it flies through the air, landing close to the center, but it trembles terribly and falls to the ground. 

"It didn't stick because you're standing too close," Aemond explains. "When it spins, if the blade is angled down when it falls, it indicates you need to step back. Half of getting the knife to hit the target is about where you are standing."

You listen attentively and try a new stance. This time, the knife lands on the right of the middle and sticks. You grin.

"Good, now let's try something else."

Your face falls slightly. "Already?"

"You seem to handle the knives nicely, although you still need practice. But you are awful at hand-to-hand combat, and so it must be our priority." 

"You flatter me." 

"Come and fight me, my lady." Aemond teases going to the middle of the yard, bouncing on his feet.

"You won't be as thrilled for it once we're wed."

He rolls his eye, and you mirror his stance. But it's distracting, the way his ponytail swings with each of his jumps, almost hypnotizing. 

The sudden punch in your jaw makes you stumble backward as you wince and rub your cheek.

"What was that?" Aemond's voice is thick and intimidating as his slender fingers tap lightly at your cheek as if to wake you up. "Are you still asleep?" 

"No." 

"Then pay attention, you didn't even try to block it." His voice lowers. "Did I hurt you?" 

You shake your head. He never does, his blows are weak, but warning. You've hurt yourself more seriously falling to the ground or striking him than from receiving any of his punches. He's awfully careful.

You go back to your positions, and though you do not stand still as before, you know you are being slow. When Aemond spins, aiming to elbow you, the ends of his hair brush your face, and the smell of lemon verbena soap invades your nostrils, once more distracting you. Unfortunately, you lose the timing to move away and try to protect yourself from his strike in the clumsiest way, flinching as you do so. Not necessarily effective, and most definitely not what you have been learning for weeks.

Aemond says your name exasperatedly, sending you a bewildered glance. "We've been past this." 

"I know." 

"This has not been an issue for you recently."

"I know." You repeat with a grunt.

"What is happening?" He asks.

"Nothing is happening, my Prince." 

"You are distracted," He affirms. "Leave these thoughts behind, focus only on the movements of your body. You will notice that with our practices your body almost knows what to do on its own if you permit it."

You try to follow his advice, and it works for a while. Your footwork becomes meticulous, avoiding Aemond's offenses gracefully, your arms solidly shielding your face and chest. 

With the effort, beads of sweat start to cover Aemond's forehead and nose. And your eyes are drawn to his hairline, especially to the wavy little hairs sticking to his skin. Adorable.

You realize you have lost balance a second too late, the twat successfully tackling you to the ground. Your back hits the dirt floor with a thud, and you lose your breath for a second. He hovers over you, pinning both your arms with his hands. A displeased noise leaves his mouth.

Another perk of training is the proximity. In no other context, other than fighting would be acceptable for betrotheds to stand so close, to find themselves pressed like this. The touches always held more importance than they should, a taste for what's yet to come.

"Foolish mistake." He releases your arms. "What is it? What's bothering you?"

You don't answer, and your attention drifts to his hair once again, the ponytail is falling to the side and very close to your face. You cannot control the urge to touch it anymore and your hand moves, the strands are softer than you previously thought, but it's also thin. You twirl it around your fingers as concentrated as a babe with their new toy.

Realization crosses Aemond's eye, and he chuckles wryly, pressing his body even closer to yours, making you feel all the outlines of his body. You whimper. Cunt. 

"Is it the hairstyle?" He asks teasingly. 

You wet your lips, throat closing up. He holds your chin, making you look directly at his violet iris. "Do you like it?"

You nod. "A great amount."

He grins wickedly, and he leans his face dangerously close, your noses brushing. "Then I will make sure to wear it around you more often, wife."

[magics-neptunes-things]

Historia de Amor

Hey guys!

This is a new story and it's really a very long. I asked you by a survey if you prefer that I separate the story into several chapters but you answered me no :)

I didn't put all the ideas I had in this story however, I still keep some under the elbow.

Tell me if you liked it and what is the part you preferred :)

Resume : Lots of part of life with the love of your life.

TW : Physic hurt

PART 2 IS HERE and BONUS CHAPTER HERE

Keeping a facade smile on her face, Ona looked around and felt a bit lost. It had only been two weeks since she arrived in Manchester from Spain and from the height of her 21 years she had trouble to cope with her new environment. She hardly spoke the language of the country where she had just moved in and despite the warm welcome she had received from her teammates, she needed a little time to adapt. She was relieved to have the opportunity to speak Spanish with some of her teammates, like Ivana. It was relaxing for her. She was doing better and better in English, even though she found her accent horrible.

However, tonight it was difficult for her to follow the conversations that existed around her. It was late and she had had training this morning, but when Alessia invited her to attend her brother’s birthday party, Ona couldn't refuse. She knew it would make it easier for her to connect with her teammates and she had a great evening. But between the alcohol she had drunk and fatigue, it became a little too much for her.

So she politely apologized to her table mates and got up to go outside and breathe some fresh air. The anniversary took place in a sort of old English castle that the Russo had rented for the occasion, also providing rooms for people who would have drunk too much to return home safely. Ona went out in the courtyard, the sound of gravel under her shoes bringing her a rather surprising calm but nevertheless not pleasant. A female silhouette caught her eyes and she turned her steps in her direction.

Your direction.

"Hello" she says gently, approaching you.

Focused on your camera, you didn’t see her arrive, but you raise your head and smile at her.

"Hi" you simply answer before putting your attention back on the screen of your camera.

A silence sets in, but it is not disturbing. The presence of Ona doesn't bother you, quite the contrary actually. You briefly glance at her and realize that she is looking at the screen of your camera while you are sorting out the shots you made during the evening.

Ona, realizing only now that she was staring, so she bites her lip and hurries to turn her gaze away.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to…"

"Don’t worry" you smile again before placing your camera on the embankment against which Ona leans, while you are sitting yourself. "The lights from inside kept me from seeing the pictures properly, which is why I went out. Would you like to see the ones where you appear?"

Ona looks at you again a few moments before giving you a shy smile and nodding. It takes you a few minutes to find the ones you are looking for and Ona finally decides to break the silence.

"So you’re like the official photographer?"

"Kind of" you laugh softly. "I am the little sister of Giorgio’s best friend. They offered me to be the photographer for the evening, it’s more a passion than anything else. Here you go."

You finally find what you were looking for and show two shots you made of Ona. She appears with Alessia and Ella, but you must admit that they are the only ones we can find her.

"They are pretty"

"They are not exceptional" you answer objectively, shrugging your shoulders, before biting your lip by looking at her thoughtfully.

"What?"

You smile when you see her looking at you and gently frowning. You had already noticed her in the crowd, looking a little lost but a smile that illuminates the entire room. Closer, you can more easily see the features of her face and you realize that she is even more beautiful than you could have imagined. But you don’t share your thoughts with her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. After all, you don’t know her at all.

"I can make more pictures of you here, if you want?"

Ona seems surprised by your proposal and you quickly realize that it's can be a little weird. For the first time since she joined you here, you’re the one who’s uncomfortable. You even blush, happy that night has fallen for some time. Quietly scraping your throat, you resume before she can even answer you.

"You don’t have to answer me. Excuse me, that was a stupid idea."

"No" she cuts you quickly by putting a hand on your arm. "No, I was just surprised. But why not, but I’m not used to doing that, other than for the shootings of the new jerseys. Since I’m a footballer. I play for Manchester United, with Alessia?"

You laugh softly, first because you're relieved that she doesn't take you for a psychopath but also because it's probably the longest sentence that she heard pronounced. Alessia being the little sister of your brother’s best friend, you have often had to go to one of his matches.

"I suspected it a little, I couldn't come to see you play since the beginning of the season, but since you arrived with Ella and Alessia..."

You don't finish your sentence and smile softly, thinking that if you had known, you would have returned more quickly to the bleachers. While you play mechanically with the strap of your camera, you see Ona gently tilt her head looking at you, probably intrigued by this information.

"You follow women football?"

"Yes… but I must confess myself" you smile maliciously.

"Tell me?"

"I’m more of an Arsenal supporter."

A scandal, an aberration according to your brother. But that’s how it is, you’ve been a fan of Leah Williamson almost all your life and by default you support Arsenal.

"Qué?!" exclaims Ona, looking shocked with her hand on her heart, and you burst out laughing at her.

She also laughs and you discover your new favorite melody. Okay girl, you’re gonna have to focus because otherwise you’re gonna go home tonight with a solid crush.

"What about these pictures?"

***********

The next morning, you got up around 10 am and the first thing you did was plug your camera into your computer. You didn’t take care of Giorgi and Luca’s photos or the cake, but instead you hurried to look for the photos you took of Ona in the course of the castle. Without wanting to throw flowers at you, they are incredible but your talent is certainly not for much.

Ona is resplendent, sometimes smiling, sometimes shy, from the front, from the side and even from the back. You scroll through the photos you took of her for many minutes before opening your photo editing software to correct the light. You do nothing else, there is nothing to touch up. Ona is perfect.

The Latin gave you her email address to send her the photos, but you wait until the afternoon to do it, hoping to receive a quick answer from her. You know that she has no training that day, that’s why Giorgio chose that night to organize her party.

The answer from Ona arrives at the end of the afternoon and from this moment will start an exchange of emails then messages when you decide to pass on your phones, so that it is more convenient apparently.

You and Ona talked almost non-stop for the next ten days. Manchester playing away the following weekend, it's only during the week that Ona offers you to go for a coffee together. You obviously accept quickly, too happy to see her again without having to initiate the thing. You tried to grab information about Ona, but going through three intermediaries (your brother, Alessia’s brother AND Alessia) made things too complicated. And when your brother started teasing you, you quickly gave up.

So you turned on social media, but you quickly realized that apart from a few photos of her friends and family, Ona was rather discreet about her romantic life. You couldn’t even tell if she was attracted to women and you didn’t have the courage to ask her directly. You’ve seen a picture of her with the rainbow flag, but it may very well say that she supports the cause without necessarily being part of it.

You had a long debate about how you should dress for this date. It was just a coffee at 10:00 in the morning, Ona having informed you that she had the day off. For your part, with your university studies, you had the opportunity to manage your work as you wanted.

After much hesitation, you ended up opting for an artificially ripped jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, all embellished with your eternal red Converse. Your hair is released freely and cascade down your shoulders. Ona having a car, she offered to pick you up and it's with a bit of nervousness that you enter her car when she parks in front of your building.

"Holà!" she greets you joyfully.

Her smile is contagious and you say hello before closing the door and fastening your seat belt. You feel a heartbeat when she lays a kiss on your cheek, but you try to quickly regain your countenance. You got the information from one of your friends that the Spaniards might have a different approach to physical contact, but it got out of your head. That moment wasn’t unpleasant though.

"Where are you taking me?"

Ona gives you a quick look before turning her attention back on the road since she has restarted her car. You notice her phone hanging on the dashboard, Waze plugged in to show her the right way.

"I don’t really know Manchester yet, so I asked Ivana to recommend a place. I hope you'll like it."

You nod and sit comfortably against the seat of her car. You have no doubt that you will have a good time with her. You have about fifteen minutes to travel and you take the opportunity to ask her about her activities last night. Despite the fact that you write to each other very day, you are relieved to see that you still have things to say to each other. And especially that your conversations are as fluid oral as written.

When you arrive at your destination, Ona hurries out of her car to open your door. You find yourself blushing slightly, thanking her with a small smile. The fact that you found a parking place so close to the establishment is probably close to the miracle and you take this as a sign of fate.

Ona also holds the door of the establishment and guides you to one of the tables when the waitress signals you to settle where you want. After consulting you with a glance, the Spanish woman makes her choice on a table at the back of the room, probably allowing to have some privacy. She may not be a rock star but it must happen quite regularly to her to be recognized. You realize now that you’ve never asked yourself about it.

"Have you been here before?"

You smile at Ona and shake her head negatively, assuring her that this is the first time. You had already passed several times ahead of course, having grown up in Manchester it would have been difficult not to. That said, the place is beautiful, simple and seems well maintained. Not to mention that the menu seems pretty great.

The waitress arrives a few minutes after you are installed, notepad in hand to take your order. You refrain from frowning when you see her look at Ona with an air a little too insistent for your taste while the footballer still deciphers the card to order. You could have sunk into a spiral of jealousy if she hadn’t taken your breath away with her smile looking back at you right after giving the menu back.

"How’s your file going?" asks the Latin girl while keeping her smile.

You briefly bite the inside of your lower lip before answering it, still not understanding what she can find interesting in your literature studies. But you finally find yourself explaining to her where you are and you realize that not only does she ask you questions, but they are also related to what you have already told her before.

"Are you doing something on Saturday?" asks the Latina after you receive your order.

"Not really. Why?"

"We’re playing against Arsenal… and I was wondering if you wanted to come see me play?"

The proposal pleases you, and the fact that the brunette uses the term "me" rather than "us" even more. But you decide to tease her and offer her a big innocent smile.

"Mh depends, will you introduce me to Leah Williamson?"

Understanding immediately that you are only trying to play with her, Ona hides her amusement behind her milkshake a few seconds before answering you.

"If you want me to never speak to you again, this is the best thing to do"

You laugh gently and bite your lower lip again watching Ona play with her straw and the end of her drink. You find the dimples that dig into her face every time she laughs or smiles just adorable. Wishing not to let the slightest doubt hover between you two, you lean slightly in her direction to attract her attention again.

"I will come to see you play with pleasure"

Ona smiles at you and you feel yourself melting like vanilla ice cream in full sun. Your gaze exchange lasts a little longer than two simple friends would, but you have a hard time pulling yourself out of the intensity of her chocolate pupils. It's only when the waitress arrives, asking you if you want something else that you're back to reality. After questioning you with a look, Ona simply refuse for both of you- After you have shared the bill, you find yourself outside, breathing again the fresh air.

"You want to go for a walk?" you propose to Ona. "I could show you a couple of nice places around here, if you want."

"I would love to"

With that you are gone in the small streets of Manchester, where tourists don't normally come. You don't meet many people, but with the sun shining on Manchester today it seems to make everything beautiful. Or is it the presence of the Hispanic? Because of your physical proximity, your hands touch a few times, each time sending you a discharge of electric current.

"Is this a date?"

Your question escapes from your lips even before you have time to realize it and it seems to surprise Ona as much as you. She turns entirely in your direction, leaving the sight of the city that you had after climbing in the heights.

"I hoped it would be"

Ona’s answer is whispered, but you smile softly as you nod.

"Good"

Enjoying the sun, you sit on a bench to chat even more, eating toasted almonds and hot chocolate when it’s time for a snack.

On your way back, your hands eventually join gently but surely. It's first the little finger of Ona who clings to yours and you discover with amusement that she watches you from the corner of the eye to see your reaction. Realizing that you don't seem uncomfortable and that you are even getting closer to her, her relief is such that you feel her release the breath she was holding.

When you get back to her car, your two hands are tightly tied and you miss the heat of Ona’s palm against yours the moment you have to let's go to get into the car.

"I’ll take you home"

It’s more a statement than a proposal and you don’t even think of refusing when Ona informs you of her decision once you arrive in front of your building. You postpone the time to say goodbye while remaining a few minutes to discuss in front of the door of the building. You hesitate to ask her to come home with you, but it is now the beginning of the evening as the day passed quickly.

As you finally say goodbye, Ona leans over you and gently places her lips in the corner of yours. The heat wave that it gives you is mixed with a little feeling of frustration, which pushes you to follow Ona’s movement when she steps back. If you had wanted to hide this gesture, it would have been useless. The Latin obviously saw you.

"Not on the first date Hermosa" she whispers mischievously before stepping back a few steps and returning to her car, waving at you with her damn beautiful smile on her gorgeous face.

Saturday, like you promised her, you are around the pitch looking her play.

You arrived for the training to not miss anything of her on the field, curious to see her evolve with a ball at her feet. After her warm-up ends, she quickly makes her way to you, with a big smile on her lips. Leaving the small group that accompanied you, partly formed of your brother and Alessia’s family, you join her, leaning against the barrier.

"I’m glad you’re here. But I see you don’t have a jersey?"

You laugh softly, knowing full well that she's refers to one of the discussions you had the night before, during which you teased each other and where you threatened to show up with an Arsenal jersey.

"I didn’t have time to find one, but I promise, next time. And a Manchester's one."

Ona’s smile is getting bigger, maybe partly because you just promised to come watch her again, before you even know if you’ll like this game. She knows you watch football from time to time and sometimes you come here, but coming to see her is different. Unfortunately, the Spanish has no time to stay longer. The members of her team call her and you smile as you wave her to join them.

This will not prevent Ona from returning a few minutes later, walking hesitantly at you with a shy smile, a jersey with the Manchester logo in her hand. You take it and after folding it, you realize that her name and her number are on it. Without hesitation, you put it over your sweater.

***********

Later that night, you were in your apartment accompanied by Ona. After she offered to take you home, you had this time the courage to offer her a last drink before she heads home.

Sitting on your couch, you turned on your TV with a shitty reality show that neither of you really follows, rather focused on the discussion you have about the game. Ona's team won at the last minute of the game, managing the suspense until the end. You had a great time actually and you even miss some things on the pitch, all your attention focused on a certain Spanish defender. Alessia scored the last goal actually, for the greatest pride of her brothers.

"Not too disappointed that you haven't met Leah?" Ona teases you and you smile.

"I’ll get over it" you assure her, laughing softly.

Ona smiles again and you can’t help but admire her for a few seconds, your head resting on your hand, itself resting on the back of the sofa. In front of you, Ona imitated your position. After she showered, she put on a sports jogging bottoms and an orange hoodie. Her hair is gathered into a messy bun and a few strands fall on her face. Delicately you put a strand behind his ear.

"You look tired" you whispers, your fingers brushing against the skin of her cheek when you take your hand back.

"I am" she admits without stopping looking at you.

"You look beautiful, too" you whispers again, earning a new smile.

"No, that's you"

You roll your eyes before shaking your head while smiling. You don't want to play the fake modest, but in your eyes if there is one of you who was blessed by the fairy of beauty, it's definitely Ona. You look back at her right after though, feeling her hand under your chin. She gently raises her face in her direction, allowing you to realize that she has come closer to you.

"I really mean it. You’re beautiful."

"Ona..."

If your heart could get out of your thorax cage, it would certainly do so now as it beats so hard. With your proximity, you can see all the peculiarities of her face, starting with the different shades of her freckles. Her eyes shines with a particular glow, which has nothing to do with the shade of fatigue that was there a few moments ago. This moment of delicious tension lasts a few seconds before you speak again, your voice barely higher than a murmur.

"Just kiss me"

That was all she was waiting for, gently breaking the last inches between you. Her lips are light on yours at first, like a touch of butterflies, before coming more present. They are soft, delicate, sweet, perfect. This kiss is even better than any you could imagine during your moments of dreaming.

Ona’s hand gently leaves your cheek to slide onto your neck, causing shivers in every place she touches.

You briefly resume breathing, before initiating a second kiss. You gently tilt your head to the side to have a better access and you can not retain a slight moan when you feels her tongue caress your lower lip, asking access to yours. You accept, of course. And this time you feel completely attracted and overwhelmed by the mixture of feelings and sensations.

When you regain consciousness, well helped by the burning of your lungs that remind you that they need oxygen, you are literally lying on Ona, herself lying too on the couch. She has one hand on your neck and the other on your back, while yours are positioned on her waist.

"Well, this is interesting" comments Ona with a mischievous smile.

You blush and try to back off, but the hands of the Latina gently prevent you.

"No... Stay, please" she whispers softly, drawing you back against her.

You willingly accept, placing your face in the hollow of her neck. You smile against her skin when you feel her kiss on the top of your head and you tilt your head to have a better angle for looking at her. She smirks at you and you lean to kiss her jaw, her cheeks and every part of her beautiful face.

Some weeks after becoming official to your friends, Ona had to fly to Spain for a preparation camp for the national team. Your apartment seems empty without your girlfriend because even if you don't live together, you spend almost all your evenings with each other. When you have to study for university, Ona settles down next to you and watches a series on TV, taking advantage of Netflix to perfect her English with Spanish subtitles. Sometimes she falls asleep, waiting patiently for you to finish your work. Her adaptation to Manchester is getting better and better, even though she recently confess that she missed her native country a lot.

Being in exam period, you couldn't follow her and this is the first time you are separated for so long. So you wait patiently for her to call you, you can usually talk to each other through FaceTime in the evening and sometimes she call you at her lunch break. When she can't, you exchange messages. Ona sharing a room with one of her teammates, a certain Laia who apparently plays in Manchester City, you made the decision not to fall asleep by letting your FaceTime on. So you often end your nights exchanging messages, until one of you ends up falling asleep.

That’s what you’re doing now. Lying under your duvet on your side, you're already talking to Ona since 30 minutes.

You - Do you want to play a game?

Onita ♥ - What kind of game? You know I'm not alone in my room :-P Onita ♥ - I'm joking, what is it?

You smile, rolling your eyes. The way Ona seems always scared of hurting you or making you believe things she find strange is really cute. You already told her that you're not made of glass, but it's seems like it's stronger than her.

You - I have 12 questions to ask you and you have to answer the most sincerly possible

Onita ♥ - Seems fun. Go on Hermosa.

You - 1) If someone asks you what I am to you, what would you say?

Onita ♥ - That you are the most perfect girl in the world and that by an incredible luck you decided to be mine.

You - 2) What are three things you love about me?

Onita ♥ - Your kindness, how cute you look when you are focused when you're studying, your face.

You - 3) What makes me different of your past lover/s?

Onita ♥ - Well... Everything?

You - 4) What you dislike about me?

Onita ♥ - How far away you are from me right now :(

You - 5) What your favorite thing about me?

Onita ♥ - The way you show how you care about me

You - 6) What was your first impression about me?

Onita ♥ - I wondered why a gorgeous girl like you was alone and when we talked I found you kind, sweet and funny.

You - 7) What are three things I say a lot?

Onita ♥ - Oh man, My back hurt, You're beautiful

You - 8) What is one thing you hope for our future?

Onita ♥ - I really want us to continue to get along as well as we do now

You - 9) If we where together now, what would we be doing?

Onita ♥ - Probably cuddling while watching a movie. And I would kiss you on every inch on your face to distract you from :)

You - 10) What would you be doing right now if we never met?

Onita ♥ - Sleeping (This question is sad btw)

You - Sorry baby ♥ You - 11) How was your life before we got together?

Onita ♥ - I can't say it wasn't good because I would be lying, but you really made it better

You - 12) Will I forever hold a special place in your heart?

Onita ♥ - You always will ♥

You - Thanks baby ♥ You - I can't wait for you to coming home :(

Onita ♥ - Me too. Will you be free the day I'm coming back?

You - Won't you be tired?

Onita ♥ - Claro, but I want to see you. I really miss you a lot...

You - I'll be there :)

In fact, you even decided to pick up Ona at the airport. Your girlfriend introduced you to some of her teammates during one of your FaceTime, apparently they were curious to see the girl who Ona never shut about. You actually met Laia, Leila, Alexia, Jenni and Mapi this way. But thanks to this you could ask one of them to play the spies and give you the landing time of Ona’s plane. You wanted to surprise her, so it would be strange to ask her anyway.

Waiting with other people in the arrival area, you suddenly felt nervous. What if Ona actually preferred to take the time to shower and relax a bit before meeting you? You began to take a hundred steps, mechanically taking your phone out of the pocket when it will ring to announce the arrival of a message. It's from Ona who announces you that she has landed well and that she is about to take her suitcase.

A few long minutes later you finally see her pass the security doors, pulling behind her not one but two suitcases. The way she scans the room on the way out, you feel like she feels you before she even sees you. And, when your eyes finally meet, you feel like you’re in a movie for teenagers. The rest of the world vanishes around you as she runs towards you and jumps into your arms. Having the impression of finally being able to breathe completely again, you press her against you, smiling and feeling her buried her face in the hollow of your neck.

"I missed you so much" she whispers on your skin before placing her lips on yours.

You smile during the kiss, passing your arms around her waist to squeeze her more against you, making her fly a few centimeters above the ground.

It makes her laugh and ends your kiss, but you can’t blame her. You lay a kiss on her cheek as she gently turns in your arms to look behind her and you only realize at this moment that she's accompanied by Laia. She has recovered the suitcases that your girlfriend abandoned and is waiting patiently for the end of your reunion, a smile displayed on her face.

"Holà" she smiles, arching an amused eyebrow.

You greet her in return while Ona redo the presentations before informing you that they had imagined sharing a taxi. It's obviously out of the question for you to let Laia return alone and you immediately propose to drop her at home. You borrowed your brother’s car, as much as it serves the maximum.

"Didn't you leave with a single suitcase?" you question your girlfriend as you walk into the parking lot.

"Yes. But my mother gave me enough to fill my cupboards for the next three years. The good news is that you will be able to taste real Spanish specialties."

"Are you ok?"

Hearing your girlfriend's voice, you turn your face in her direction. You were watching the earth getting closer and closer, announcing that your landing was coming soon. Your fingers were beating nervously on your knee and your teeth were biting your lower lip so hard that Ona was really beginning to fear that it would eventually tear open.

"I’m a little nervous" you confess by quickly turning your gaze away.

That’s an understatement. You’re supposed to meet Ona’s family today and you’re so stressed out that you’re nauseous. Ona has already met your own family, she had anyway crossed them at the birthday of Alessia’s brother. But on your side you only met his big brother when he made the trip during a game to see his little sister play. The current has gone rather well, even if the latter seems rather to be the shy kind.

"You look like you’re going to throw up" Ona comment, arching an eyebrow.

"It's a possibility"

Ona smiles and gently shakes her head. Even if she finds your state of stress touching, she has the good idea not to emphasize it. Instead, she gently turns your face in her direction and places a tender kiss on your lips.

"Better?"

You smile softly, feeling the usual butterflies dancing in the hollow of your belly. That this feeling persists after several months together is a daily source of good surprise and joy.

"Mmh… Not really"

You try to mask your smile, in vain. However, Ona quickly understands what you want and lays a second, then a third kiss, each a little longer than the one before. Soon after, she backs down but places her forehead against yours, stroking your cheek with her thumb.

"You have nothing to fear, I know they will love you."

"What if they don't?"

"There is no risk"

"If they don’t like me, Ona, what do we do?"

Ona seems confident and it reassures you as much as it worries you even more. She is so convinced that she feels no emotion other than a joy to find her parents, her Spanish friends and the places where she grew up. But your question is deep, if things go wrong with her parents, will it lead your couple to a possible end? The idea terrifies you.

"If for some reason they don’t like you, I’ll change their minds. But trust me, there’s no reason why that would happend. Plus, Joan said you're really sweat."

You nod gently as the wheels of the plane touch the ground. Ona lays another kiss on your temple before focusing on what the stewardesses say. They speak Spanish but despite the intensive classes given by your girlfriend, you have trouble understanding what they say. They speak a little too fast and don't necessarily bother to articulate correctly.

After picking up your luggage, Ona takes you to the taxis. She seems to know the place like the back of her hand and you find it interesting to see her evolve in her world. You have already noticed that the timbre of her voice changes when she speaks in her native language and for some reason you find it very sexy. Perhaps because she tends to use Spanish during some of your intimate moments.

You listen carefully when she tells you of memories she has of places you pass through, a tender smile on her face. Stress made you forget that it was a way to get to know your girlfriend better and this realization hits you hard.

Ona’s entry into your life has changed a lot of things, but you must admit that you are also much more tactile with her than what you could have been with your former conquests. It’s kind of like she contaminated you and since she doesn’t seem to be bothered by this behavior, you stopped wondering if you were allowed to be. Then, after a new explanation from her, you lean over her to depose a tender kiss on her cheek, making her smile. And you’re back to vanilla ice cream in the sun state.

The journey takes a little less than an hour, you arrived at rush hour and there are a lot of traffic jams. It seemed to you that the taxi driver recognized Ona but has nothing else let appear than a big smile. But you end up arriving at your destination and you feel your heart start beating too fast and too hard when the taxi stops.

You barely have time to get your luggage out of the trunk of the vehicle and take a few steps into the driveway of the house as the front door opens. Ona’s Mother hurries to join her daughter, probably failing to suffocate her by hugging her. But Ona laughs and you see behind them Ona’s father, looking at his wife with a mixture of fun and tenderness.

"Oi déjala respirar (Let her breath)" he says, hugging his daughter at least as hard as her mom.

Ona’s mother’s attention is on you right after and you smile timidly at her. Now is the moment of truth. Over her father’s shoulder, Ona addresses her mother.

"Mamá, te presento a Y/N (Mum, this is Y/N)"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can you find yourself in a maternal embrace that surprises you. It takes you a few seconds to answer it, but if it amuses your girlfriend, your mother-in-law doesn’t seem to take offense at it for a second. Then she steps back and looks at you a few seconds before declaring

"Esta niña necesita una buena comida española (This little one needs a good Spanish meal)"

After eating for like twelve people, Ona take you to her childhood room, where you will both sleep during your holidays. She seems a little shy at the idea of you entering her room and you can't stop yourself to teasing her a little.

"What are you afraid of?" you smile, your hand on the doorknob. "You have a big secret hidden here? A3 photos of one of your ex maybe?"

"None of them. It’s just I never brought one of my girlfriends home, let alone my room."

Her confession surprises you and you immediately feel guilty for having teased her on the subject. Feeling stupid, you gently bite your lip looking at it.

"I'm sorry"

"Don’t be, idiota" smiled Ona, before signaling you to enter the room.

More carefully than an archaeologist entering a pyramid, you gently open the door to reveal Ona’s bedroom. The front door immediately opens onto the large window, giving itself the sea view. A double bed is on the left with a multitude of photos hanging above. A bedside table frames each side of the bed and at the level of the cushions there are several soft toys that seem to date from the childhood of the Spanish. Facing the bed is a desk and a TV, as well as one opening in the wall, giving access to what you imagine to be a dressing room. The whole is in sand and sky blue colors, reminder of the good Spanish weather.

"I love it" you smile, looking around you.

"Yeah?"

You hums, looking at the picture above Ona's bed. You can find pictures of Ona with her friends, her parents, brother, cousins, her on the beach and some of her childhood. Lost in your contemplation, you don't hear when Ona approach you but smile while feeling her arms pass around your waist. You’re a few inches taller than her, but that doesn’t stop her from pressing her chin on your shoulder.

"Te amo" she whispers before placing a kiss in the hollow of your neck.

"I love you even more" you answer her before you turn in her arms to pass her arms around.

"And I think my parents love you very much too"

"Do you think?"

Ona confirms her impression and you lean over to place a kiss on her lips. It’s a great relief for you, but in a few weeks Ona will surely tease you by telling you that she told you so. But you are so relieved that you already know that you will endure her jokes without the slightest difficulty.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" your girlfriend asks.

You accept happily and long story short, her wall will be decorated with new photos of you two this summer.

Whenever you had the opportunity, you went to Ona’s games. This makes you a regular at the stadium and you start to know most of the staff in addition to your girlfriend’s teammates. Some new players arrived last summer but were apparently quickly integrated into the team. Now that you’ve graduated and have a steady job, it’s also easier for you to follow Ona on the weekends when she has matches elsewhere in England. You usually move the same day of the game, the team being hosted in a hotel there are logically no places for you. You don’t like those nights away from Ona, to be honest. You are so often at her home that your apartment receives your visit only when Ona is far away and you couldn't follow her.

You can’t lie about not being afraid for your girlfriend. Even though she’s a badass who gets up almost all the time after tough tackles, there have been several times when you’ve almost faint. You remember perfectly the match of Ona against Arsenal during which she suffered several tackles rather rough and where she received a blow on the nose which makes her bleed.

Today, against Brighton, nothing could let you imagine that something special would happen. The game was quite pleasant to watch and there were only a few minutes left before the end of the game. It's at the 86th minute that the collision between Ona and the opposing player takes place and the moment you don't see her getting up, you know that something is wrong.

Despite her teammates at her side and the medical staff, your girlfriend takes long minutes before even sitting down. Unfortunately far from the place of the ground where she is, you cannot hear or even see what is being said. And the anguish you feel makes your whole body throb. Eventually, Ona got up to get out of the field and was probably about to return to play. Desperately trying to cross her eyes, it ends up happening and the Latin girl sends you a small comforting smile. It relieves you a bit, but you still feel that everything is not going as well as she would like to let it seem. It would not surprise you, the Spanish already told you that she didn't like to worry people around her.

And you’re right, since after a few minutes of play, Ona sits on the field, not feeling able to play. She's obviously out of the game, but you’re not allowed to follow her, unfortunately. Or at least not right away. Your brother, always with you, has placed a reassuring arm around your shoulders but this doesn't allow your heart rate to decrease.

It’s only some minutes later that you repent Mark Skinner, the coach, walking down the stairs of the family space to take you with him in the halls of the stadium. He takes you to the infirmary, where you finally find the one that makes your heart beat. Ona is lying on a bed, still dressed in her football outfit and boots. Her face is clenched, her hand on her eyes and she takes it off only when she hears the door of the room open.

"Hi sweatheart" you mumble softly.

She sends you a new little smile as you approach her, Mark having gently closed the door behind you. Not knowing if you can touch her, you decide to sit on the plastic chair next to her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Stunned"

You pout and gently place your hand on hers, squeezing it briefly.

"Have the doctors come to you yet?"

"Yes. They think I have a concussion"

That would explain a lot of things. From where you were positioned in the stadium, the shock did not seem so strong to you, but you apparently underestimated the thing. And you feel bad for it.

The door opens again, revealing a nurse and Ella Toone. The english girl carries Ona’s belongings and informs you that she has packed everything without having forgotten anything normally. You take advantage that the nurse looks at Ona to take a look at your phone and finds that you received messages from Ona’s brother and parents, asking you about their daughter or sister. You imagine that they had to write to Ona and then turn to you realizing that they didn't receive an answer. You can’t imagine what it must be like for them to be so far away from her, without knowing how she is. The idea makes you shiver.

You hurry to answer them while the nurse makes the last tests on Ona to make sure you haven’t missed anything.

"Who are you writing to?" asks Ona frowning.

"Joan and your mother"

She nods and you decide to take her boots off and to put her sneakers. You then help her put on a sweater and jacket, deciding together that she will shower at home. With the prescription and medication in hand, you can go home, much to your relief. Ona willingly lets herself be guided to your car, your arm around her waist and this allows you to realize how much she shouldn't feel good. Even if she's tactile, your girlfriend has a strong stubborn and autonomous side.

After a quick shower, you lay Ona down in bed, dressed in one of your sweatshirts. She seems tired, but not surprising given the situation. She took advantage of the drive to phone her parents and reassure them about her condition, Ella having been responsible for keeping the rest of the team informed.

Leaving her side for a few moments, you search the kitchen to make her a tea and bring her something sweet to eat.

"What do you need?" you ask her, looking at her carefully.

"Cuddle" she pouts and you can’t help but smile.

"Give me time to change too and I’ll be right there. In the meantime, take your medicine and eat something pretty girl."

You point to the tray that you placed next to her on the bed and even if she makes the grimace, Ona seizes her medication. You go to the bathroom to refresh yourself and put on clean clothes. In fact, you opt for jogging pants and a loose t-shirt to feel comfortable. After that, you go back to Ona and lie next to her. Ona doesn't lose a second before coming to cuddle in your arms and you gently caress her back with your fingertips.

You get lost in your thoughts, the only noises that can be heard are your two breaths and the noise of the cars that pass at the foot of the building from time to time.

"You scared me today"

Your voice is barely higher than a whisper, but in the calm of the apartment it seems to resonate quite loud. The nurse warned you to avoid too much sound or visual stimulation for Ona at the moment and you intend to stick to it. She comes up a little on you, so she can put her face in the hollow of your neck.

"I'm sorry" A few seconds pass before the brunette speaks again. "You stay the night?"

You snort and roll your eyes.

"Of course. As if I were going to leave you alone here under these circumstances. I wouldn’t want your mother to deprive me of her fidéua."

Ona giggles but you also notice that she begins to fall asleep. Deciding to let her rest, you add nothing, continuing to gently caress her back and hair.

"Sleep babygirl. I’m here to look after you."

Always.

[7ndipity]

Take a Chance on Me

Yoongi x Plus Size Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi met during his enlistment and quickly became friends, but what happens when your friendship begins to grow into something more?

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of insecurities and anxieties

A/N: A massive thanks to @bethanysnow for requesting this idea and for obsessing over it with me!😘 I’m so excited to work on this as a drabble series, I hope you’ll all enjoy it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

‘Okay, you can do this, it’ll be fine.’ Yoongi repeated to himself, fingers drumming anxiously against the steering wheel as he waited to pick you up from work, trying to quell his nerves before he spotted you jogging across the parking lot towards his car.

“Hey, Min.” You greeted him as you slid into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Y/n.” He said, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth in spite of himself, your presence alone managing to calm him, if only a little bit.

It was remarkable almost, how in just a few short months, you’d come to be such an important part of his life.

When you’d first met following his public service assignment, he’d been a bit hesitant of getting too close with anyone around him too quickly, but you’d managed to worm your way into his heart almost instantly.

He still remembered the first time he realized how much he liked you; he’d made some dry, sarcastic remark that no one else had really reacted to, unsure if he was being serious or not, but you had let out a quiet burst of laughter that had immediately set everyone else at ease. It was just a little thing, but it had played over in his head for the rest of the day.

He hadn't even known that much about you at the time, except your name, your department, and that the sound of your laugh was one of the best things he’d ever heard.

Before long, he had started finding more and more excuses to come by to see and talk to you, even if it was just for a minute as he brought some forms for somebody else to sign, eventually asking if you wanted to hang out together outside of work as well.

You’d known who he was of course, in your own words it was impossible not to, but you’d never treated him differently because of it, something he’d come to appreciate more and more as you’d gotten to know each other.

You were so bright and warm and funny, and had a way of putting him at ease that few others had ever managed, he found himself easily charmed by you, and it was honestly your friendship that had made the rather jarring shift between his lifestyles bearable, if not almost pleasant.

But more recently, he’d begun to realize that his feelings towards you had grown beyond those of purely a friend.

Yoongi craved you, he wished there was a better word or phrase to convey his feelings for you, but that was the best he could come up with. He craved your presence, your comfort, the sound of your laugh when you found something he did cute or funny. He found himself missing you constantly, even if he’d just seen you, wanting to wrap his arms around your plush figure and keep you close at all times. It was like he was addicted, and frankly, it scared the shit out of him.

“You okay?” You finally asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’d noticed he’d been quieter than usual, having barely spoken the entire car ride to your place, stirring up your concern for him.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I-uh, wanted to ask you something.” He started, scratching at his palms nervously.

“Okay.” You said, eyeing him curiously, making him fidget even more.

Fuck, it would be easier if you weren’t staring at him with those fucking eyes, he thought. They’d been one of the first things he’d noticed about you, one of the first things to put a chink in his armor.

He had spent the previous night laying in bed, trying unsuccessfully to come up with a more eloquent way to put his feelings into words, but as soon as he looked up at you, everything seemed to shrivel up and drift away, like leaves on the wind, leaving him with only the simplest of thoughts and question in his mind.

“Would you… go out with me?” He asked softly.

Your eyes went wide. “What?!”

“Will you go out with me?” He repeated.

“But, w-why?” You asked, flabbergasted.

“Why do you think? I like you, a lot.” He let out a huff of laughter, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Fuck, honestly? I think I might even love you, but I know that’s way too much out of the blue. I just know that I want to be with you, as more than friends, if you’ll have me.” He finished, glancing down at his feet awkwardly.

It was quiet for a long moment as you stared at him, stunned, letting his words sink in.

“I don’t… get it.” You said slowly.

He blinked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why me? I’m not exactly your type.”

“You don’t know that.” He interjected.

You scoffed. “C’mon, Yoongi, be serious,” You said, skepticism clear in your voice.

“I am being serious.” He said, looking at you with utmost sincerity. “You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”

You shook your head in confusion. You’d seen the type of people that Yoongi spent time around in his line of work, and they were very different from you; thin, beautiful, perfect. Not that you didn’t think you were pretty in your own way, but compared to the idols that he was typically around, the idea of you and Yoongi just didn’t make sense to you.

“But I’m just… me.” You said, the last part coming out almost as a question, not understanding his logic.

He smiled. “That's why I like you. You're open and honest and kind, you don’t hide behind some front or mask, and you don’t put up with anyone’s shit. You’re smart, and funny, and beautiful-”

“But I’m-” Your hand went as if to gesture to yourself, but he was quick to catch it in his own.

“Hey.” The sudden sharpness in his tone caught you off guard. “Don’t you dare try to sell yourself short, you hear me? When I say you’re beautiful, I mean it.”

You bit your lip, mind racing. You wanted to believe him, but there was that nagging voice in the back of your head that kept saying it wouldn’t work, something was going to go wrong.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to date though?” You pointed out. “What if someone finds out?”

“They’ll say ‘good for them’, otherwise I don’t give a fuck.” He said firmly. “What I do outside of that building is none of the company’s damn business.”

You smiled at that, but said nothing, still thinking.

“Look,” He spoke again, this time much softer. “I realize that this is a lot all of a sudden, and you don’t even have to answer today, you can take however much time you want to think about it, I’m just asking for a chance.”

It was quiet for a moment before you spoke again, softly. “Okay.”

He looked up at you. “Okay?”

“I’ll go out with you.” You clarified.

“You will?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah,” You nodded, grinning at him.

He beamed, letting out a relieved sigh before leaning across the center console and pulling you into a hug. “Thank you.” He mumbled against your hair, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“I like you too, by the way.” You said.

“I was kinda hoping, given your answer, but thanks.” He chuckled, smirking at you.

“Ugh,” You shoved against his chest lightly, but he was giving you no room for escape. “You could’ve just said it back.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, okay?” He asked, grinning at you.

“Fine.” You grumbled, feigning annoyance.

“Can I make it up to you?” He asked.

“Maybe. What did you have in mind?”

Instead of answering, he leaned closer, pressing his lips softly against yours.

[xxchumanixx]

kind of inexperienced reader with john nolan and he wants to try some new things. (smutttttttt)

preferably thigh or face riding

Something new

John Nolan x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, reader is a little inexperienced, thigh riding, smut

Word count: 786

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I know it's short, but I'm willing to do a second part with face riding. Hope you'll like it!

Enjoy!

A while ago, you and John had decided you wanted to spice things up a little.

You were still a little inexperienced, not having done much before other than the typical sexual activities like blow jobs and fucking, so John decided to take matters into his hands and show you a few things.

Right now he was struggling to keep himself together and not bend you over the table, pounding into you until you were screaming his name backwards.

You were standing in just your bathrobe before him, just about to shower, as he came home, sitting down at the table to write a shopping list, when you entered the room.

You wanted to take his hand and guide him to the bathroom to join you in the shower, but he had other plans.

"I want to try something new." John said, stopping you in your movement, his hands holding your hips in place.

Curious, you looked down at him, waiting for him to continue. Whatever it was he wanted to try, the heat pooling in-between your thighs only intensified at the unknown.

He guided you closer towards him, making you sit down on his thigh, causing your breathing to hitch, as your naked cunt made contact with the fabric of his jeans.

It was a new sensation, rough and somehow wild. It had you shivering in anticipation, heart hammering in your chest, as he unfastened the belt on your robe.

Then his hands found their way back towards you hips, fitting like a glove. They were made for you and only you.

"Okay..." he mumbled, the grip on your hips intensifying the slightest bit, as he carefully started to guide you.

"And now, just relax."

You did as you were told, trying to relax but stiffening, when he made you move on his thigh. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against your clit, a moan stuck in your throat.

It wasn't as pleasant as you might have hoped for, but John hushed you, eyes meeting yours. "It'll get better, I promise." he spoke softly, pecking your lips.

His hard-on was pushing at the front if his jeans, getting more and more uncomfortable for him. But he wanted to have you come on his thigh first, wanted to show you how good it would feel.

You nodded, relaxing again, as you exhaled shakily.

John started to move you again, forwards and backwards in a steady but building rhythm, tilting you slightly and there it was-

A moan escaped your lips, heat rushing towards your center and cheeks at the sudden pleasure the new angle brought you.

John smiled to himself, repeating the motion with more pressure.

It shot through your body, into your toes and up your head. The pleasure was constantly building, tightening the familiar knot in your stomach, as you stumbled towards your first orgasm of the night.

"John!" you breathed out his name in a raspy moan and he returned it with one of his own, biting his lip to concentrate on the movements, as your hands took a hold of his shoulders.

You slowly took over, getting faster. One of his hands cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the stiff nipple.

You jolted, seeing stars.

His lips attached to it, sucking at the peaked bud, tongue swirling around it. More sparks shot through you at his actions, toes curling.

"I'm close!" you rasped out, noticing how the fabric of his jeans became wetter from your arousal. It made it easier to move, as one of your hands fisted his shirt.

His other hand found your clit, thumb drawing quick circles, matching the speed of your movement, when he let go of your nipple.

"Come for me." he muttered in your ear and you followed his command, as you came hard.

The coil snapped, sending you straight over the edge, as your fluids soaked his thigh. It blinded you momentarily, his name falling off your lips in hushed whispers.

He helped you ride out your high as your legs gave out, eventually holding you in place.

Breathing heavily you tried to calm down.

John watched you with hungry eyes, waiting for you to come down from your high, glowing like a goddess.

"Wow." you managed to breathe out, chuckling at him. "That was amazing." He grinned back at you, before he made you stand up.

Looking down at his leg he tskd, shaking his head. "My my, look what a mess you made."

You blushed at his words, his need for you making them huskier. "Gotta clean that up."

You nodded eagerly, taking his hands in yours. "And I know just how to." you told him, walking towards the bathroom.

"Just relax."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@rookietrek @augustvandyne

@dhunhdchrihhchrih @nachofriess

[angel-kyo]

Pay it no mind

Part VI

In which reader confesses their feelings to Gojo, but it seems these are not returned (maybe?).

Warnings: reader is on the receiving end of rejection (kinda), and the fact that I'm obsessed with unrequited love is a warning itself. There is an implication of reader dying (but they don't).

Previous: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V

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

When you entered the coffee shop, Haruki was already sitting at a table in the corner.

He got up to greet you when he saw you approaching. “Did you have any trouble to find this place?”

You sat in front of him. “Not really. I actually had been nearby some days ago for work and saw it,” you replied.

He smiled. “Oh, does being a teacher involve much work outside the school?”

So, the work part had not been a lie, but being a little more explicit, you had been exorcising a curse. Of course, you could not tell him that.

You smiled back. “I don’t know about other schools, but sometimes we have to run errands here and there.” Haruki nodded, and you decided to change the subject before he could dig further. “Anyway, should we order?”

Over iced coffee and tea, you and Ikeda caught up on pretty much everything you had missed during your years apart. The elderly uncle he had moved in with years ago had passed away just before he finished high school, so with no family left in the country other than his avoidant father, he had gone to study abroad. He had returned to Japan to work for a big company in Osaka, but then he had been transferred to Tokyo, which led him to getting a small apartment there, which eventually led him to you.

You watched him sip his tea and place it back on the table.

Time really goes by quickly. It wasn’t that long ago we were at a similar place talking about the future and look at us. This is the future.

“You know? Back then, I wanted to come back after finishing high school, but it would have been so…” He moved his hands as if trying to grasp the right word.

“Complicated?” you offered. His lips curved.

“Not that it would have been easier anywhere, but I guess there really is a right time for everything, don’t you think? At least I got to see you again."

Ikeda was looking at you expectantly and you only nodded. He laughed. “Sorry, I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all!” It was nice listening to him. “I was just thinking how great it is that you have accomplished so much.”

“Thank you, but I didn’t mean to get carried away. I just think it’s nice to be back.” He made a pause. “What about you, though? So, you graduated, stayed here and became a busy teacher… Maybe found your soulmate yet?”

You snorted, almost spilling your drink as you shook your head. “My… No.”

Your own reaction had made you laugh, but what had really gone through your mind was a much more disheartening memory: Satoru's forced smile when you told him you liked him.

Ikeda smiled at your reaction. “What about your friends? Are you still close with those guys you used to hang with? The girl that used to come with you every time and the other two?”

“Shoko is a doctor now.” You smiled and looked through the window; it looked like it would rain. “About Geto…”

They did their best to cover it up, but you might have heard about an incident in a village...

Haruki watched your gazed had saddened, and he could infer it was not a pleasant subject, so he tried to facilitate a response “You drifted apart? That happened to me and many of my friends...”

Your eyes returned to his. “Yes… We don’t really talk anymore.”

That sounded better than saying ‘our friendship became complicated after he turned into a mass murderer and curse user.'

Haruki’s smile was apologetic. In his memory, Geto seemed to have been a nice guy, and from your expression, he could tell that, for whatever reason it happened, letting him go had hurt you.

It must be inevitable that people part ways even when they don’t want to, he thought.

Now, he was not sure if he should ask about the other guy. Would that sadden you too?

“I am still friends with Gojo, though. You remember him?”

He nodded. Of course, how could he forget about him?

You continued. “Actually, we work together. He is a teacher too.”

“Oh, well, that’s...” he was not sure how to put it, “...that’s interesting.”

He could not help but wonder what kind of teacher Gojo had become. Thinking it backwards, Gojo had always been throwing annoyed looks at him. No, that white-haired kid had not looked like teacher material at all back then.

Haruki was not dumb. He always knew Gojo disliked him, and that the reason was pretty much related to you, but it had been only once that your friend had confronted him directly. Would Gojo have told you about it? He figured probably not, and even if he had, the past is in the past.

***

“This was fun,” you told Haruki as you walked to the station.

“It really was”, he agreed. “Maybe we could go to where I used to work next time. You know, for good old times’ sake.”

“You should bring your apron!” You grinned and looked at the sky, “But sure, we should go, if it’s still there, that is.”

At the entrance of the station, Haruki told you he could walk to his apartment from there, so you said goodbye.

The day had been full of memories and, although overall it was nice to reminisce, it had left you exhausted, so you decided to go to bed early.

Maybe tonight you could dream of a softer time, before Shoko looked so tired, before Suguru slipped away, and before Satoru had to shoulder alone the burdens of the strongest.

As the raindrops tapped on your window, you slumbered into the memory of a young group of students laughing and running under the rain.

***

“[name].” Someone was tapping your forehead. “[name].”

Your eyes opened to be met with a pair of blue ones.

“Oh, good, you woke up.” Gojo shot you a smile. He was standing next to your bed, bending over you.

Slowly, your head turned to look at the time on your nightstand watch. It was 6:02 am.

Huh, he started being annoying earlier than usual.

Still laying down, you saw him straighten up. “I need your help with something.”

“It better be urgent, or I’ll have to ask you to return that key I gave you.”

You knew that would not be of much use anyway. Before giving him a spare key to your apartment ‘for emergencies’, Satoru would just teleport inside whenever he thought the situation called for it, which was basically whenever he wanted.

Of course, he did not use his key just for emergencies, but at least you had gotten him to use the front door since then. And he had looked so glad you had given him a spare key and even gave you one to his place, that you did not really have the heart to ask him to give it back despite his unnecessary intrusions.

He grinned. “We need to pick Shoko’s birthday present.”

There was going to be a small gathering that day to celebrate your friend’s birthday. She had insisted on not making a fuss about it, but she did say in a half serious tone that presents were mandatory. You had gotten her a bottle of that rare wine she liked a month ago in anticipation of this day, but apparently, Gojo had waited until the very last minute to get her something.

You turned in your bed and closed your eyes again. “That is not an emergency.”

“I just did not know what to get her. She was not thrilled with my choice last year, so I thought…” Gojo sat on your bed and went on rambling about how he had carefully picked Shoko’s present on a trip last year and how rude it had been of her to call it ‘ugly’ in front of him.

“What is this?” Shoko’s face had been unreadable, but judging by the way she was holding it, she was not pleased.

“I got it during my last trip. It is believed to bring good luck to your home, and you can put it in your living room so it…”

“Of course not. This is too ugly to be left where people can see it," Shoko had sentenced.

You sighed. “Fine. I will help you, but I need some more sleep first.”

“It’s a deal then. We will take a quick nap and then go. What do you think we should get her?” Despite being with your back to him, you could feel him laying down and accommodating closer to you.

It had been a while since you two had shared a bed. Yours was particularly small, so one of you would always take the futon or the sofa if he wanted to 'stay for a nap'.

“What are you doing?” you asked softly.

There was silence for a second and you thought he had caught up with the situation he was putting both of you in, but then he replied “Your bed is more comfortable. Besides, it’ll be just a minute, right?"

You were going to protest, but he continued. “I had a rough night.” His tone was lower now. “Indulge me this time, can you?”

You knew he had been on a mission last night, however, no matter how gruesome, it was not like him to complain about it, let alone seek comfort in others, at least, it had not been like that in a long time.

Would it be okay to comfort him as when we were kids?

You turned to face him. He was laying on his side already looking at you.

When you put your hand over his, Satoru was reminded of how you used to hold hands when things were rather unpleasant at his family’s state. It was a gesture of reassurance; you holding his hand was proof that he was not alone. He had never told you but there were times when he thought your hand had tied him to reality, it had kept him human, and he had loved you for it.

“I…”

“Sleep then. You probably need it,” you interrupted him and closed your eyes.

Would it be okay for him to tell you he loved you or would it make things awkward again? Would it still make you hurt because he had not reciprocated your feelings weeks ago?

In truth, he had not come so early because of Ieiri's present. He had done it because the curse he had encountered last night had gotten to him.

He had been told that thing was not really strong, but it could show people illusions of those dear to them dying in front of their eyes; it was the fear the victim would experience at that time what would make the curse stronger. Gojo had not expected to see you, but he did; and although he had snapped out of it almost immediately, it had been enough to make him rush to you as soon as he had finished the mission and changed clothes.

But now, with his hand in yours, Satoru closed his eyes, feeling a little more at ease.

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

Note: Huh... I thought this one would be shorter. Sorry.

Thank you for reading!

Next: Part VII

@mavs-stuff @witchbybirth @crookedlyaddictedone-blog @tqd4455 @maybe-a-bi-witch @mo0nforme @maliakealoha

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

Chapter 3

This week is finally over! Thank god. And I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

Word count: 2,636

Warnings: canon typical violence, panic attack, and suicidal thoughts

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

‘Perhaps I’ll get lucky and Daeron will get skewered by a jousting pole.’ You thought bitterly as Gaella yanked your corset tightly. You let out a weak sputtering sound as you felt your chest squeeze too tightly for comfort.

“Gods, Gaella, how am I expected to breathe in this thing?” Once King Aegon had allowed you to return to Bitterbridge you had to fight the urge to burn all of the corsets you had from your time in the capital. Luckily you had abstained from such an act as you could not afford to buy new ones with Bitterbridge in such disrepair.

The timing of these celebrations were unfortunate as many other houses were struggling to rebuild after the battles fought and part of you wondered if such timing was deliberate on Aegon’s part before waving the thought away.

“I suppose in short spurts and very infrequently.” Gaella scoffed, lacing you up tightly before reaching for a silken underskirt. “How this ever became standard is beyond me.”

You shivered as the cool silk slid down your back and cascaded around your ankles, reminding you of water dripping down your legs as your corset gave you another sharp twinge of pain that seemed to resemble being shot with an arrow. Your hands become clammy as Gaella threw another layer over your head, and smoothed out the yellow fabric skillfully. Jace would understand what you were doing right? He’d know that you had no choice but to play along with whatever cruel game Aemond and Daeron had planned.

“All right, my lady, time for your hair.” Gaella said before taking a second look at your face, now feeling cold and numb.

Your hands began to shake as your chest heaved shakily. But what if he didn’t? What if wherever he is, wherever your family was, they were disgusted by your complacency? By your weakness? You should have refused to bend the knee to Aegon after Rhaenyra died. Was she cursing your name from the other side? Or did she even care to watch after you from wherever the Stranger had taken her.

The two of you had been close once, when Jace was alive. Jace… It had been easier to forget the pain his absence had left you in while talking with Lord Celtigar, but now that Aemond had taken a cruel interest in you, you couldn’t help but remember the pain Jace had felt at the loss of his brother… Luke… Would Jace really-

“My lady?” You shook your shoulders abruptly, jerking yourself out of your trance before giving the older woman what you hoped was a comforting smile.

“My apologies, I think I drifted off again.” You gave a forced laugh before stiffly walking to the vanity. “I fear that being in the capital again is… bringing up some less than pleasant memories…” You added cautiously as Gaella gave you a searching look before nodding apprehensively.

“All the more reason to leave this horrid city as soon as we can.” She muttered softly, sweetly brushing your hair back just as she had done hundreds of times when you were a child perched on your mother’s lap. You felt your heart slow at the familiar gesture and reason began to return to your head as you watched her quickly braid your hair into a complicated updo that kept your neck free from hair that may irritate it.

You bit your nail nervously, a habit you’d had since you were a child as Gaella stepped back and looked at you with a matronly smile. “You are ready, my lady. And once the lists have been completed I’ll have a nice warm bath for you to return to.”

“You truly are sent from the gods, Gaella.” You rise from your seat to give the older woman a quick hug. It was not the most proper thing for a lady to do, but frankly you didn’t care.

If forced to look at the bright side of this demand, you had to admit that sitting in the royal box seemed like it would be much more comfortable than in the wooden stands where the rest of the crowds gathered.

As you finished ascending the staircase into the risen platform, several notable figures caught your eye as you made plans on who to avoid.

There were three rows in the box, each rising a step above the other as if it were a large staircase that had plush chairs at each level. In the very back were lesser lords, you did not recognize most of them and had no desire to make their acquaintance. They were farther behind the rest of the party and seemed as if their view of the matches would be blocked by Aegon’s banners.

The only notable among them was a woman with pitch black hair who was soothing a young boy with silver hair on her lap. You eyed the boy curiously. He was too young to be Aegon or Viserys and while Rhaenyra had been pregnant when Sunfyre had eaten her, her newest child was only three moons along and too early to survive such a blast. The strange woman paused for a second, her eyes flicking up to meet yours and you swallowed slightly as she eyed you with an intense gaze. It wasn’t hostile or judgemental, but curious bordering on recognition as you met her eyes before looking away, your gaze shifted to the second tier.

There sat the small council: Lord Jasper Wylde, Tyland Lannister who wore his hood as he always did nowadays, and Lord Larys ‘The Clubfoot.’ The three men were on the right of a large ornately gilded seat that sat Aegon himself, half of his face twisted by burnt flesh and you fought to keep your face stony so as to not show your delight as his discomfort. At his left was his mother and daughter. You felt a pang of pity flash through you at the young princess. She sat as still as a statue in her seat, with a dissociated look on her face that seemed as if she was well beyond her years.

A coy giggle diverted your attention away from the somber child to the final row, the occupants of which made your lip quirk into a scowl before being replaced by its regular neutral expression. There sat Aemond next to Carina Wylde on the side of his good eye, leaving only one empty spot on his bad one. A spot that just so happened to be next to Daeron Targaryen himself.

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you strode over to the spot, taking extra care to avoid glancing at the youngest prince as you sat down on Aemond’s left. But in your peripheral vision, a trait that Aemond did not possess, you noticed that he stiffened as you passed him and refused to look at you as well.

“Ah, Lady Caswell,” The One-eyed Prince said lazily, having to turn nearly his whole body to look at you. “How wonderful of you to finally join us! The festivities are about to begin.”

You hummed thoughtfully, staring straight ahead at the empty field refusing to look at either prince. “Well it wouldn’t do to miss such a… spectacle. It is why I returned to the capital, after all.” If he thought that he was humiliating you by placing you on the side he could not see in favor of Carina he was sorely mistaken. It only meant that you did not have to make tortuous small talk with the man and that his interest truly was waning.

“Yes well I was unsure that you would heed my invitation.” Aemond shrugged slightly. “As much as I would enjoy the pleasure of your company, as intended, your tardiness has made it so that my attention has been diverted.” You chanced a quick glance to Carina who pretended to be very interested in the favors allotted to each lady, but you knew that she was listening intently.

“I can see that.” You responded calmly, refusing to betray your irritation. “Lady Carina is an adept conversationalist, I take no offense in her presence.” You spoke honestly. Perhaps if he married her already he would leave you alone.

“Wonderful.” Aemond said in an insincere tone with a smile that did not reach his eyes, but as that smile widened you knew that you were not out of the dragon’s lair yet. “It seems like you will have to make do with my brother. I’m sure you both will get along as quickly as a noose takes to traitors.”

You saw red at his comment. How fucking dare he bring up your mother’s death in such a callous way? How dare he-

The younger prince on your other side cleared his throat as you fought the urge to throttle the man besides you. “The first pair are about to begin.” Was all he said, refusing to turn his head your way.

You fought to keep your breathing even and calm as two knights atop heavily armored horses took their places at the edges of the field. You didn’t know what house they belonged to and did not have it in you to care as their lances splintered against the solid metal of their breastplates.

It was now more than ever that you wished you knew how to wield a sword. Your blood tingled through your hands as you craved the ability to slice through as many greens as you could before you tasted the bitter steel of an enemy’s sword. Perhaps if you were able to, you might have been able to die an honorable death instead of living a dishonorable life as an oathbreaker, living as a ghost of yourself and shoveling away your rage for the fear of who else may be harmed from it.

Perhaps then you and Jace could be together. Perhaps you just wanted to be at peace and for the world to quiet. Perhaps the idea of following your mother’s footsteps crossed your mind one too many times. It would be so easy. To leave. Everyone else had already done so, so why not you?

Your mind flickered to an image of your family, once proud but now only you remained. Sighing you steeled your resolve once again. No. You couldn’t die. Not yet at least. You had work to do and a family name to restore.

You had lost too much to let your line end here at the hands of these cravens. If your desire to live was not strong enough on its own, spite may have to be your motivator. And a powerful one it was.

“You look lovely today, my lady.” Came a stiff voice beside you and finally you dared met Daeron’s gaze. Up close he looked like the younger boy he was. Only one and eight compared to your two and three.

You said nothing, vaguely hearing the sound of a body being dragged off the field in the distance.

“I-” Daeron took a deep breath before speaking again. “I had hoped that I could talk to you while you were in the city.”

You remained silent, staring straight into his violet gaze that held a pitying look similar to the one you had sent his niece only minutes ago. Perhaps you would be as somber as she was if you received such a stare day in and day out. You refused to let him see your pain. Pain that he caused, so he would receive nothing. The same terms he gave your mother and brothers.

Daeron flinched as metal clashed against metal and another round began, cutting off the awkward silence between the two of you and the crowd roared in approval at whatever the result was. “What happened… during the war…” He trailed off softly.

He swallowed slightly before he spoke again. “I did not mean for things to happen as they did that day.”

If he wanted you to respond he would be sorely disappointed as you were as still as the ice flowing through your veins.

“I did not know that Maelor was dead until we reached the gates.” He explained hurriedly. “I only sought to bring him home, to his mother- my sister.” His eyes widened as he continued, seeming to forget that you were there. “When my Uncle returned with his egg I made a horrible decision. One that has haunted me since the day it came to pass.”

‘And gods willing will continue to do so until the day you die.’ You thought bitterly, the words that were relayed to you ringing through your head again and again as he sliced through your brothers’ small bodies. Boys only five and two years old. ‘You will receive the same terms you gave my nephew Maelor.’ Maybe you could throw him off the balcony to be trampled upon by the horses below. Your victory would be short lived, but satisfying as all hell.

“I had only meant to burn the inn it occurred at.” You flinched violently as he gripped your wrists with white knuckles and eyes widened and far away. “You must believe me, I didn’t know it would spread as much as it did and when the gates fell… I didn’t know how to stop it. How to stop them.”

You scoffed as you tried to pull away from his vice-like grip. “So you are blameless in all of this. How surprising. You say that you could not control your own men, men you grew up beside as a squire, to which I ask did you really want to?” You hissed quietly, accidentally bumping into Aemond as you struggled out of Daeron’s grip.

Daeron blinked quickly, regaining his senses as he slumped his shoulders as he was about to answer.

“My Lady Caswell!” The three of you whipped your heads to the field below to where the tourney had been raging.

You let out a small smile at the sight of a lord you did not recognize, but was thankful for the distraction nonetheless. The young man had dark black strands of hair that clung to his forehead and a face that you could appreciate from where you were sitting. You recognized his shield immediately as that of House Leygood, another vassal for the Tyrells. The young man was battered by a fight, but still standing as he held his lance out towards you with a charming smile on his face. “It would be a great honor if you were to grant me your favor for the fights ahead.”

“Here.” A light feminine voice called out softly to you as you stood to greet the man below and you took your favor, a wreath decorated with yellow daffodils and white roses, from Carina’s outstretched hand. Carina beamed at you as you took the favor from her and turned to the field. Much to the unexpected displeasure of both Targaryen princes.

“I wish you good fortune on the battles ahead Ser…” You trailed off, gently sliding the wreath down the lance.

“Lucas Leygood, my lady.” You heard someone scoff behind you, but ignored the sound. “Well Ser Lucas Leygood, I look forward to watching you fight.”

The young knight gave you another bashful smile before steering his horse, a beast that had a brown coat with black speckles, off the field so the next match could begin.

As you returned to your seat you noticed Aemond giving you a venomous glare that made you want to smile wider. It seemed as if his plan to humiliate you in favor of Carina in front of eligible suitors had failed.

Although you resumed your previous silence, you found yourself lost in your thoughts about the two choices for a husband you seemed to have.

Taglist 🏷️

Let me know if you’d like to be added!

@dixie-elocin

@shari-berri

@ka1afbr

@sepherinaspoppies

@gorlillaglue25

@indycaelumskywalker

@tojisrealwifey

@fanfics4ever

@g-cf2020

[hotwaterandmilk]

So I decided to pick up physical copies of The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions from Yen Press on a whim the other day. I've been in such a nostalgia hole about Ragawa's works thanks to the Hanayume 50th celebrations and I remembered her manga adaptation of Konohara Narise's novels had restarted not that long ago. It made sense to get the books and begin a catchup re-read before the fifth volume comes out in English.

I'll be honest, I don't remember much about the Kyuketsuki to Yukai na Nakamatachi novels or manga from when I first encountered them. I had the first two manga volumes in Japanese at one point, but gave them away when the manga went on hiatus years ago. However, upon beginning my catchup re-read in English I was struck by how much the story resonated with me now.

If you've never read the series before now, long story short from Yen Press, "When a vampire from Nebraska named Al gets frozen in bat form, he winds up in Japan under the care of a dark and mysterious man covered in a bloody scent!"

I'd like to get into why I think this series is worth picking up now and for that it's probably easier to throw my ramblings under a cut.

I feel like the humorous elements of the series are what get talked about in the (admittedly scant) English language reviews for the series and, while the whole setup can be quite amusing, the more serious elements are what actually makes it stand out from other vampire tales with romantic elements. While everything is exaggerated, there are some very "real" aspects that help The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions stand out in an endless sea of vampire tales.

For example, Al being bitten by a vampire wasn't a ticket to easy street. There was nothing glamorous about what happened to him. That bite ruined his life and through no fault of is own, he rapidly became destitute. Vampirism in fiction is often shown leading characters to social isolation, but not necessarily to poverty. Given that Al has lost everything that connected him to his previous life, it makes sense that in our current capitalistic society he'd also lose access to even the most basic things our societal identities afford us -- including housing.

So yes, it's amusing that this bat-boy ended up flash frozen and shipped with some meat to Japan. However, the circumstances that led up to that outcome are given the weight they deserve. You truly do feel for Al in these moments because haven't we all been, at one time or another in our lives, perilously close to losing everything? These fleeting glimpses at the past sting in otherwise rollicking segments of the story as they should. Everything beautiful in Al's present is something that he didn't have during his lowest points and you truly feel for him as he works to prolong these moments.

Another serious moment that lifts the series even higher in my eyes is when it becomes aparent that Akira has access to human remains. Rather than handwaving away the access to blood as a convenient way to get Al the nutrition he needs, a significant amount of time is dedicated to the ethics surrounding the situation. The gravity with which all lives should be handled post-mortem and just a generally respectful examination of embalming as a process.

Unsurprisingly, I find the portrayal of Al's "incomplete" vampirism as a form of disability to be a compelling take on the mythos too. Al gets almost none of the "benefits" of being a vampire due to the whole process "not being done properly." What this leaves him with are a lot of things that make his everyday life different from not just humans, but "complete" vampires as well.

These differences mean he struggles to feed himself properly, feels significant levels of pain, and his body is often weak or doesn't behave the way he wants it to. The cause here is obviously fiction, but the way Al's acquired disability impacts his capacity to function to an acceptable level in a society of "normal" folks (both human and vampire) really struck me as ringing true, at least for myself and my own disabilities.

Yeah, I'm not going to turn into an adorable bat (and truly, bat Al is A D O R A B L E) but the struggle to make use of the few good hours in a day when my body works to a degree, that's so goddamn real. Al wants to contribute to the household, to pay back Akira and to be a functioning member of society... but it's not as straightforward for him as it is for others and that's something I appreciate being explored here.

Another thing that stands out to me is Akira's sexuality. While there are a lot of misunderstandings with Al and Akira that lead to people assuming they're lovers, when Akira is pushed into a corner about having a lover he shuts this down by describing himself as being frigid or having a low libido (in very blunt language).

I feel like the depth of this is conveyed well in the English translation by the subsequent line:

While at this point in the series Akira hasn't labeled his sexuality as being either demisexual or asexual, this is definitely something that it feels like the narrative is leaning towards. Particularly when Al clarifies the difference, in his limited language skills, between the physical and the romantic.

Akira is still figuring out what is comfortable for him in terms of dealing with people, so it makes sense that his progress regarding intimacy has only accelerated after meeting Al. The batty vampire is pushing him towards understanding more about himself and how he chooses to interact with those around him, but the ball is still very much in Akira's court regarding whether he'd like to explore either the physical or emotional aspects of their relationship further. I found that really refreshing?

That this story allows the dark-haired, brooding hero who is one part of our lead will-they-or-won't-they, to assert that he doesn't feel the same level of physical attraction that others do. That he isn't entirely confident in this either, that it's a part of himself he's never opened up about before, that it's something Al uncovers and isn't suddenly changed to fit what is acceptable. But that it doesn't lessen Al's interest in him, it's just part of who Akira is... gah! It really resonated with me idk. I love some smut, but I also appreciate it when a story focused on something as sexual as vampirism chooses to eschew this in favour of raw emotional edging instead.

I've pushed the more serious elements of the text in this ramble, but before I wrap up I should really note that there are some very funny moments too. For example, Al's bluntness here when he speaks Japanese.

The Vampire and His Pleasant Companions isn't the best work of vampire fiction I've ever read, but it uses its recurring themes of isolation vs. the need for connection to craft an enjoyable narrative. One that I feel lingers in my mind a bit more than others. While Al's unique form of vampirism leads to some absurd escapades, the story is elevated by having its emotional core remain grounded in the intrinsic beauty of everyday human interaction and how even fundamentally different people can connect in small but significant ways.

Blah blah blah, you should check it out, I can't wait for the next volume, etc.

[specialagentlokitty]

Maze x teen!reader - I’ll look after you

Could I request a platonic maze (Lucifer) x teen!reader where r is a homeless orphan, and maze grows attached them and becomes like a maternal figure to them and r isn't afraid of her demon side? - Anon💜

Since Lucifer had been spending more and more of his time with Chloe Maze had to find different things to pass her time, bounty hunting was fun, but she was often done pretty quickly so she sometimes just wondered around.

It was how she first encountered you, you were running out a store with a handful of food in your arms, occasionally dropping a few.

Maze was fast.

But a teenager trying to get away with theft?

She didn’t expect you to be as fast as you were but when she followed you around a corner you were just done. Not a single trace of you.

She was determined to find you so she searched high and low over the city, she spent weeks trying to find you until she eventually found you again doing the same thing.

Running from a different store with food.

It took a few more attempts before she actually found out where you were going.

You were leaving a manhole cover open nearby and jumping into it before closing it, so she followed you.

She quietly followed you, it wasn’t pleasant walking through the sewers but you didn’t seem to care, or you just didn’t notice the smell anymore.

She carried on taking mental notes on you.

You were covered in dirt, clothes slightly torn, you looked like you hadn’t had a good meal in months, you only appeared once a week or so, you never struck the store twice and you always kept your face hidden.

She kept following you until you eventually sat down on a pile of dirty blankets with your food.

Maze didn’t show herself right away, she stayed hidden and she watched you stuff everything under one of the blankets.

“You know this place stinks.” She calls out.

You jump, eyes flicking to everywhere you could see but you couldn’t see anybody.

“Who are you? Why did you follow me?”

“You’ve been stealing from different stores.”

You scowl a little.

“So what? It’s the stuff that’s nearly out of date, they’d just toss it anyways.”

“It’s still theft.” She replies.

“They have more money to replace it.”

Maze hummed a little, nodding in agreement because you were right, they did.

She leant against one of the walls, still keeping herself hidden from you.

“Why do you steal it?”

“The food banks are always empty when I get there, I always get shoved out the way or ignored, so it’s easier.”

“You don’t steal clothes?”

“No, nothing over a certain amount.”

It went quiet for a moment and the next thing you knew a jacket was thrown in your direction of whoever it was disappeared.

It wasn’t the first time you spoke to Maze like that, she started coming more often but never showed herself.

You knew her name, she knew yours, you knew about her jobs, and she knew a bit about your life but not much.

As the summer ended and things became colder that’s when Maze started visiting more, trying to coax you out of your hiding spot.

Was it concern?

Was this the same thing Lucifer felt for Chloe?

It couldn’t be, this was different, it was a strong desire to just take you home, get your cleaned up and well fed and never let you out of her sight, to keep you safe.

Maze made her way back down, and instead of staying around the corner she walked around and stood in front of you with her arms crossed.

“Stop being stupid let’s go.”

You glance up from where you were laid.

After waiting a minute Maze huff send picks you up, throwing you over her shoulder as if your weighed nothing, grabbed your bag with her other hand and left.

“I’m fine where I am!”

“You’re being stupid and you’ll freeze your ass off, and then I’ll have to take you to hospital and then tell you I told you so while you freeze your ass off.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as Maze brings you back up to the streets.

“Where are you even taking me?”

“Somewhere safe, shut up.”

She puts you on the back of her bike, pushes a helmet on your head and sits behind you.

When she got back to her shared apartment with Chloe she pushes your towards one of the bedrooms and gives you a warning look as she leaves again.

The next thing you knew you were pushed into the bathroom which had clean clothes for you.

You were more than happy to wash and change clothes, when you were done Maze studied you for a moment.

“You’re staying here.”

It was clear she wasn’t going to let you refuse, so you nod your head.

Maze wasn’t the best of cooks, but she did try, and though her food wasn’t great you still ate it which made her grin a little bit.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to explain this to Chloe yet but she didn’t care, you were staying with her, she was going to make sure you never had to be out there alone again because she knew how that felt.

You needed a parent, and maybe she wasn’t the best choice, but she felt a strong drive to care for you and protect you, and that’s what she was going to do

[famesau]

Saddling Up

Kieran Duffy x gn!reader

Summary: He lends a helping hand to get you over your fear of horses

Warnings: none

A/n: I actually don't like horses, they kinda freak me out but being a Kieran fan has made me start to like them a little. So here's a fic about that!

Becoming an outlaw came with many new struggles you had to overcome but one you couldn’t seem to shake was your fear of horses. You weren’t terrified of them but you sure as hell didn’t like them. Something about them made you uneasy, their big beady eyes and how unpredictable they could be only further made you dislike them. Over time this became more and more inconvenient. At first, this wouldn’t be a problem, you’d either catch a ride in the wagon or by a carriage if you really had to go out. Hell, you’d walk over taking a horse. But with the gang always on the run, you found yourself wanting to be more adventurous and included in gang activities. The others knew of your fear and most don’t judge you for it, others would tease and try to “help” you get over your fear by pushing you towards the horse forcefully. It never worked obviously. For a while you gave up on trying but that urge to get over your fear came back once Kieran became a member of the gang.

As much as you didn’t like horses you couldn’t deny how peaceful they all looked when Kieran was by them or pampering them. Everyone disliked him, some taking it to an extreme on more than one occasion. But you never had a problem with him. Sure he was an O’driscoll but everyone in the gang came from bad places before joining the group so you didn't hold that against him. Plus he seemed to be really sweet from what you’ve seen. Some days you’d find yourself sitting against a tree just watching him, admiring the way he handled the horses. You could tell from the way he brushed their coats and the sweet praises he’d whisper to them just how much he liked horses. On this particular day, the heat was intense. Everyone was either chilling in the shade or in their tents to hide from the overbearing heat. All except Kieran. 

He was once again pampering the horses, not only that but he refilled their water tanks. From where you sat you noticed how tired he looked, sweat trickled down his forehead and he often stopped to catch a breather. Yet he was still tending to the horses. Anyone with common sense wouldn’t be doing chores in this weather so he must’ve been lacking that. By the looks of it, he wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, which was a dumb idea but you weren't going to try to pull him away from his horse. So instead you decided to bring him something that would make his job a little easier. 

Kieran continuously worked on the horses, trying his best to make sure they too felt comfortable in these unfortunately torrid circumstances. But he would soon come to a stop when you reached something towards him. A cup of water. You stood about a foot away from him since the horse is directly behind him. He looked at you slightly surprised at first but he soon gave you a small yet warm smile and took the cup from you. 

“ I uh, thank you kindly..”

He said sheepishly, giving you a small nod in appreciation before taking a sip of the water. A pleasant sigh came from him as his parched mouth was now having a well-needed drink. He tilted his head back as what was a sip now turned to chugging, previously oblivious to how dehydrated he was. Once he finished a few droplets trickled down his chin, he went to wipe it away but stopped mid-way because of you. He stared blankly at you and you did the same. He stopped because you were still there, just slightly farther. At first, he thought he was making you uncomfortable but as he followed your gaze he noticed that you were staring at Branwen. He was the only gang member kept in the dark about your fear of horses. He relaxed seeing that you were bothered by him

“You wanna pet him?”

He asked curiously, placing the cup down on a haybale and resting his hand against his coat Gently stroking it before looking at you.

“No!”

You spat out.

“No, I'm good.”

You said again, your voice a little shaky but calmer than before. Your first shout made him jolt. He was about to apologize for asking but you spoke once more

“Never really like em..horses I mean.”

You mumbled, looking back at Branwen with a slightly weary expression. But even you could agree that he was a beauty. His uniquely colored coat and long white mane. You’ve never seen quite a horse with such a pretty pattern. Your eyes lingered on him, your gaze growing a tad bit softer. Kieran on the other hand looked confused and surprised. He’s never meant anyone, any outlaw, have a fear of horses. It was very odd to him.

“I uh..I ain’t ever heard of an outlaw being scared of horses.. that's new..”

He admitted. You knew he loved horses, everyone knew he did. If you can’t find him in camp just look for the horses and he’ll be there. Which is why your not liking them surprised him. He didn’t understand why someone could dislike such a creature. A puzzled look was on his face as he thought to himself. Debating on whether he should ask you why or not, eventually, he decides to.

“Is there a reason why yur scared of ‘em?”

“eh..I dunno..I’ve wanted to pet them but I always chicken out. Sometimes they’re too big or hostile looking...”

You explained, crossing your arms over your chest and rubbing your forearms. He listened intently to you, understanding where your fear came from. Some horses, if not properly taken care of or trained, could be a problem. But hearing you wanted to pet them made the idea bubble up in his mind. He’s been taking care of Branwen for years and his mammy and pappy worked with horses so he knew how to handle them well. Branwen was well trained and overall a passive horse. So if you wanted to slowly get over your fear of them, Brawen was a great starting point. Though you and Kieran weren’t well acquainted you both had a mutual level of respect with one another. So he knew if you didn’t want to try and get over your fear you wouldn’t be so harsh about it. So he took a short deep breath and spoke.

“D..Do you want to try andpet him? If ya don’t want ta I understand..but if you do I’ll stay by your side the entire time.”

He suggested, extending his hand towards you. Giving you a small nervous smile, more sweat accumulating on his forehead but he blames it on the heat. Stunned you just stood there, staring at him with widened eyes. He was the first person who seemed willing to help you over your fear. Sure he agreed that your fear was odd but he didn’t tease. The fact that he was willing to help touched your heart. You took a few more seconds to contemplate your next course of action. He assumed that your stare was from how forward he was. He cleared his throat then slowly started to retract his hand, feeling an enormous wave of embarrassment wash over him. But before he pulled his hand fully back you extended your hand and placed it in his, causing him to jump slightly from the sudden and unexpected contact. His palm was slightly damp from the continuous brushing mixed with the heat but that didn’t bother you. He didn’t speak, feeling like his voice was caught in his throat. It was nothing more than a simple hand hold yet the gesture made him freeze up.

“...I’ll pet him but that’s it..”

He went to speak but once again nothing came out. So he gave you an egear nod, glad you were willing to try to pet Branwen. Nervous excitement filled his being as he watched you take slow steps towards his mare. Your grip slightly tightened around his hand as you inched closer and closer, wanting to chicken out like every time before but unlike the other times you didn’t.  You had to get over this dumb fear. One day you could get in trouble and no one here would be there coming to save you. With all this running you were growing tired of being a burden, tired of feeling as though you weren't helping the gang to your full extent. You were now a few inches away from Branwen, close enough to touch him but far enough in case shit went south quickly. Kieran could feel your grip tightening around his hand, feeling the way your hand shook in his already shaky hand. He assumed you would’ve let go by now but little did he know his hand was the only thing grounding you, keeping you from leaving. You both stood there awkwardly, you both patiently waiting for your move. Hesitantly he began to brush his thumb gently against your hand. His skin was a little rough but his movements were gentle. He wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do, he immediately looked away, feeling an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. Surprisingly, the sensation was what you needed to bring your mind to the present. You grew lost in your thoughts but the feeling of his hand around yours made you snap out of it. You blinked a few and let out a short but quick huff, shaking your free hand a little as you slowly began to raise it towards Branwen. Hearing your breath made his attention fall back on you, still subconsciously rubbing his thumb against your hand. Your shaky palm finally touched Branwens soft coat. It took a minute before you felt comfortable to move your hand back and forth against him. A smile brushed Kieran's lips as he happily watched you pet Brawnen. His mare softly exhaled, trotting in place a bit from the affection. It was clear he was enjoying it, knowing that made your once shaky hands relax and grow slightly more confident. You were still quite nervous but happy that you finally touched a horse. After a few more pets you pulled your hand back, letting go of Kieran’s hand, and brought both hands to your chest. Feeling your heart practically leap out of your chest. 

“O-okay that's enough for me-”

You said with a nervous smile. Your voice is shaky with nervous excitement from what just happened. If only the others could see this big achievement of yours. 

‘You did good! See it ain't so bad once you do it, right?

“Heh...Yeah, I guess.

You replied, still clasping your hands closely to your chest, surprised and proud of yourself. Kieran took a step forward and started to pet Branwen, quietly praising him for being good for you. Like other times you watched the way he patted him with such tender loving care. 

“You really do love horses hm?”

“Mhm, always have…M-maybe if you’re up for it, I can help you with yur fear. Might like ‘em as much as I do.”

He said, turning back towards you with a small smile. Still brushing his hand against Branwen. After seeing how he helped you today he was pretty confident he could further help you. You appreciated how happy he seemed to help you. With that look on his face and the progress you made how could you say no? So with a smile you nodded, making his grin growing warmer.

“Yea sure…I’d like that.”