#does this open up the possibility that the last time we went into the book there was a sexy anime boy stitch just offscreen the whole time

[egophiliac]

buckle up lads we're going BACK INTO THE BOOK

[totaly-obsessed]

Goals and Glitter

Alexia Putellas x reader

-> Alexia comes in to teach a class for Alba and her co-worker

-> Happy early birthday to @wosoamazing!

-> Word Count: 3.100

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“Alba have you seen my - Oh.”

Stunned Alexia stood still in her sister's living room. She had just given herself entry to Alba’s house, trying to find one of her favorite dresses that she couldn’t find since the last time that her sister had visited her.

But she hadn’t exactly expected her sister to have someone over. This wasn’t the first time that the footballer had barged in on Alba’s situation-ships, but this looked quite different than she was used to.

Papers were scattered all around the room, and she had nearly stepped into an open glue stick that was just left on the ground. Alba was sitting on the floor, as close to the coffee table as humanly possible, covered in glitter and paper scraps. 

But she wasn’t alone. Next to her, just as messy as her sister were you. Eyes wide in surprise at the blonde who had just loudly made an entrance to the room that had previously been filled with excited chatter, just the music was playing in the background.

“Hello.”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister, who had always been awkward when she was confronted with unusual or unsuspected situations.

“Hi.”-

Dear God, You weren’t any better either.

The soft music kept playing in the background until Alba couldn’t take it any longer. “Alexia, this is y/n, the teacher I am sharing my class with this year, you know the one I already told you about? y/n, this is Alexia, my older sister, she’s a weirdo who doesn’t respect my privacy. Or closed doors.”

The room plunged into awkward silence while Alexia and you stared at each other, Alba taking a figurative step back, watching the two of you, like it was a tennis match, even though nothing was happening.

“Do - Do you want to join us? We’re trying to make the next PE lessons for the kids.” The blonde still just stood there, frozen in the door as you looked at her, a hopeful glint in your eyes.

“It’s football.”

Well if you would have said that first, the footballer would have already said yes yesterday, but it had been Alba, who knew how to get her sister back to earth. “We’re trying to explain the rules to the kids.” As if to underline your co-workers, and friends, statements, you held up a hot-pink flashcard, with ‘Goal kick’ in fancy letters at the top and a definition beneath that.

“A type of restart where the ball is kicked from inside the goal area; awarded to the defending team when a ball that crossed the goal line was last touched by a player on the attacking team.”

The midfielder's eyebrows went up with hesitation. “You’re gonna use that, to explain to seven-year-olds?”

Alba’s head snapped up, ready to pounce on the opportunity. “Well we’re not the pros, you are! So what do you think? Could re-work the cards and come into class to teach the kids first hand!”

The footballer seemed to consider, eyebrows still furrowed as she looked at one of the other flashcards. “Well you could use some help, that’s for sure.”

“Great! You have time tomorrow, and so does y/n. Same time, at your place!” Alba didn’t give her sister time to protest, instead stacking all her already-made cards together before shoving them into Alexia's hands.

“I’ll send you her number, we need to go now!” And with that the young teacher pulled you up by your hand, dragging you out of the door, leaving Alexia behind, who was still frozen in place, now all alone in a house that wasn’t hers.

Why was she here again?

—

The following day Alexia was pacing in her living room, a simple rule book on her coffee table, anxiously waiting for you to arrive. Alba had indeed given her your number, leaving it up to the blonde to contact you. And she did, with a timid “Hey, it’s Alexia! Here’s my address, does the time still work for you?”

Your much more cheerful response had been very much welcomed by the footballer, who for some reason, unbeknownst to her, couldn’t stop smiling at a silly picture of you and Alba that you had set as your profile picture.

While she had been waiting for you to come, the actual sound of the doorbell startled her to no end, before hurrying towards it, hearing Narla bark quietly, somewhere else in her house.

“Hi Ale!”

A shy smile was on the midfielders as she opened the door further, gesturing for you to come in. While she was closing the door, you had already taken off your shoes, placing them neatly on the ground.

“Oh you could have just kept them on, no need to have cold -” Just at that moment you pulled out a pair of fluffy slippers out of your massive handbag and put them on, “-feet.”

“My Mama would kill me if she knew I was wearing shoes in such a lovely house Ale.” 

The blonde could hear her own mother scolding her for entering her childhood home with dirty sneakers over and over again. But Alexia had always been in a hurry, even as a child. Scarfing down dinner so that she could go out and play football with her friends, not even changing her clothes. “You brought slippers.”

“Mhmm, I did! I always have them on me, never know when your feet start hurting.”

And in that moment Alexia knew that Eli would love you.

The Spaniard leads you through a gorgeous hallway into an even prettier living room. It was light and warm. It felt familiar and in many places, you could see a little bit of your best friend Alba shine through. She definitely chose that pink fluffy blanket for when she came over, and the amount of pictures on the walls truly showed how much Alexia loved her family and friends, sometimes she wasn’t even in them.

“Don’t be mad, but I got rid of your flashcards.” She looked at you in anticipation, after all, she had gotten rid of your and Alba’s work, and she knew how her sister would react if she had been here. “Oh, no worries! You know the game best at the end of the day!”

Well, that had gone over much better than expected.

“Would you like a coffee?”

“That would be lovely Ale, thank you so much!”

In the kitchen, she could take a couple of deep breaths. Why was she so nervous? The only thing she’s supposed to do is help you with your class, help them learn about football - her life. But now with you sitting there on her couch, the prettiest smile and pink fluffy slippers she could feel herself melting like vapor in the sun.

“Oh hello!”

Your voice was an entire octave higher than before, as you greeted someone. Shit, she forgot about Nala. A tray of coffee, milk, and sugar was thrown together as quickly as the blonde could before she hurried back to the living room, fearing how her small, but feisty dog was attacking you.

“You’re such a good girl!”

Much to Alexia’s surprise Nala was on the couch, laying in your lap, letting you pet her stomach. The dog was writhing back and forth with happy little yips, looking at you offended once you stopped, nudging your hand with her nose so that you would continue.

“Oh, sorry! Is she not allowed on the couch?”

Alexia was still standing there, tray in hand and had not moved an inch. Seems to be a common theme once you are around. What was up with her? You’re just meeting so she can tell you about football. No other reason. 

“No! Uhmm, Nala’s fine, don’t worry. She just doesn’t like new people. Well, usually.”

With a shrug, you gestured for her to sit down, as she was still standing there. The sun hit her back perfectly, bathing her in a glowy afternoon sun. She was the most stunning person you had ever seen, an incredible physique with an even better smile, and an awkward personality upon first meeting, that you just had to love.

There wasn’t much planning done, the blonde reassuring you that she would take care of it after deciding on a date, where (coincidentally of course) Alba wasn’t there. Most of the time together was spent drinking coffee and chatting about the most random things like Alexia’s dog lead collection and your incredibly large caffeine consumption. The blonde didn’t want to agree, that it was very on-brand for a teacher to drink a lot of coffee and energy drinks, insisting that it was very unhealthy and her coaches and trainers would have her head. Alexia loved watching you laugh, saying the weirdest things that she knew would make you laugh, talking a lot about Alba and Nala, hoping that you would never stop.

“I think I should get going now, it’s already getting dark. Thank you so much for having me Ale, and I will see you on Friday! Let me know if something comes up?” Alexia was adamant that there was nothing in this world that could make her forget, or come in between their agreed on date.

—

You had warmed your students up to Alexia coming, reminding them again and again to be calm not yell too much, and to listen to your guest. So when Friday arrived the kids knew what was coming. You had cleared the rest of the day, pushing the lessons back and cutting out what wasn’t needed just so your new ‘friend’ would be in no time rush. 

When there was a timid knock at the door the kids straightened up in their seats, excited to meet the woman that you had been talking so much about and to finally see her in person. After introducing the idea of Alexia coming into your students, a few girls squealed in excitement - telling you all about how big fans they were, and that they watched her play on TV.

“¡Hola clase!”

The footballer was met with a silent classroom as came in, but she could see the jitters and bouncing legs of the students as they looked at her with wide-open eyes.

"What did we practice yesterday, class?” the students jumped up from their seats, standing in the walkways “¡Buenos días Alexia!”. Well, that wasn’t what you had practiced. The older teachers make the students stand behind their chairs and greet them in a choir, it seems like their brains defaulted back to what they know instead of just staying seated like they usually do in your and Alba’s classes.

“Good job you guys! Right, so let’s all grab our gym bags and then we’ll make our way to the gym. Remember to find your buddy in two rows please!”

Alexia was stunned, watching you talk to twenty kids like it was nothing, floating back and forth, making sure all kids were accounted for and had their change of clothes.

“¡Hola Ale! Thank you so much for coming, the Kids are so excited!” And so were you. Not that you would ever say it but you had called Alba in a hurry, asking her what to wear and what to bring for food, insisting on bringing something for her sister 

The younger Putellas was greatly amused, telling their mother all about the mutual forming crushes between you and her sister. You had met Eli at a summer festivity last year, where you and Alba had decided to take on a class together, and it was safe to say that the women loved you. Just like her daughters, she had been enamored with your smile and friendly personality. Hearing that Alexia had taken a liking to you, filled her with joy. A perfect fit.

“Thank you for having me, I am also really excited to meet them!” Those kids meant the world to you, and she could see it. Your hand was clutching her forearm before shoving a lunchbox into her bag. “Would you mind walking in the back? So that no one gets lost? I still get a bit anxious about making the trip.”

The footballer was much more on the calmer side, watching as you counted the kids again and again. “Don’t worry, no one will get lost on our watch, we’ve got this. Hmm?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, she let go, making her way to the back of the line, immediately helping one of the shorter girls to put on her jacket.

Ben, a very anxious little guy, was already at the front of the line waiting to hold your hand like he usually did when the class left the room. “Let’s go then!”

You led the kids to the changing rooms before taking Alexia to one of the teacher's rooms. “Uhm, you can change here if you want to. I’ll look for another one!” Before you can close the door a warm hand closes around your wrist. “We can both change here if that’s alright with you. It's a big room.”

Alexia could see your nervousness as you turned around. “I won’t look, promise.” With a deep sigh, you decided to give in. Finding another unoccupied room would take too long and it was a part of the job, right? She probably changed in front of 10 people daily. But you were not a footballer that worked out three times a day.

There was a smug smile on Alexia’s face after she caught you staring at her abs in the mirror. “Hard work and dedication.” You could feel the heat shoot into your face as you looked away ashamed. She looked good and she knew it. The blonde was quite happy that you didn’t catch her staring at you. After all, she had a persona to fulfill. “Come on, let’s go!”

Even though she didn’t know where she was going, Alexia led you out of the room in the direction of shouting children. “Is it a possibility to go outside with the kids?” Sure she could do the exercises indoors, but most football was played outdoors and the weather was ideal for it. “Yeah, we have a small pitch just behind the gym.”

The kids were happy to hear you would go out, running in front of Alexia and you, who hand back to chat, in no need to hurry. But Ben was now glued to Alexia's hand, which felt very different in comparison to yours.

“Are you married to our teacher Miss Alexia?”

His endearing little voice sliced through the comfortable silence that took over after talking about your guy's plan. Ale couldn’t help but laugh at his innocent question and the way you seemed to find the floor incredibly interesting. “No, I’m not!”

The little boy let go of his new hero's hand and started running to his classmates, “That’s really sad!”, and then he was off.

“Well, he is certainly a character.” The blonde's arm brushed against yours, sending tingles all through your body. “Usually he’s quite shy. Sorry, I didn’t think he’d say that.” The smile was back on Alexia's face, “Oh don’t you worry.” Your head whipped up, questioning her statement as she continued to look ahead with a perfect poker face.

On the field, which admittedly could have been mowed before going there, the kids sat down, not caring that their clothes got dirty as Alexia stood in front of them, a book in her hands

“Hello everyone! I’m Alexia, and your teacher Miss Putellas, is my little sister! I am here today to teach you guys a little about football, my favorite sport of all time. Does anyone else like football here?” Seeing little girls jump up, with arms in the air shouting “Me! Me!” warmed the blonde's heart. 

How far the women’s game has come.

The next hour was filled with kids laughing as Alexia pushed them back and forth while explaining set pieces and general rules of the game, while you sat to the side, giving her a ball if she needed one.

An unexpected arm makes its way around your shoulders before a warm breath hits your ear “How’s it going?”

It was Alba, who had now sat down next to you, a cheeky smile on her face, that didn’t look that far off from her sister’s smug one. “What are you doing here?”

“Well I couldn’t just leave you two love birds alone here, could I?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. And you weren’t staring at her ass.”

“You’re delusional.”

Hearing her sister's loud laugh made Alexia turn her head at an impressive speed, catching her pinching your cheek in teasing. Quickly she told the kids what to practice before jogging over to you and Alba. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you too, dear sister! This is my class as well if you haven’t forgotten?”

Of course, she hadn’t. Really. How could she ever forget about her sister?

“I thought you didn’t have the class today?”

Alba couldn’t help but laugh at her sister's annoyed face. Her plan had worked, she had officially crashed whatever this was. “I didn't. But I can’t miss out on seeing you in my workspace, can I?” Her sister grunted, annoyed that she couldn’t have the day to herself. And the kids of course.

The rest of the day was spent with Alexia teaching the kids, managing incredibly well for someone who doesn’t usually work with 22 kids under the age of 10. Meanwhile, Alba made good use of her time by teasing you left, right, and center, not missing a chance to make fun of your obvious attraction to her sister, while you tried to help the footballer with moving cones or explaining something again.

The kids were much quieter on the way back, Ale had tired them out quite well, but Ben still wouldn’t leave Alexia’s side.

“Miss Alexia?”

“Yes, Ben?”

“Evie said that people date before they get married. So are you and Miss y/n dating?”

And there it was again, that nagging heat in your cheeks as Alexia looked up from your student, into your eyes. “I don’t know Ben, let me ask your teacher.”

Alba was trying not to scream while walking a couple of paces in front of you, pushing kids back into line when they wandered off, many of them trying to get back to her sister as they were now very interested in the blond woman.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me?”

“I would love to go on a date with you Alexia.”

A squeal left young Ben’s mouth before he let go of your new date’s hand, sprinting back to his friends and grabbing Alba’s hand. 

“I did it, Miss Putellas! They’re gonna get married!”

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Idk if you watched the movie Were the Millers?? But can you do imagine where reader never had a first kiss and charles and lando give her her first kiss ?? Like the scene with Jenn Anniston, will poulter, and Emma roberts ???

Grounded || LN4 & CL16

AN: Been a while since I watched it but this was fun to write ☺️ virgin!fem!reader

The backseat to Lando’s Range Rover was spacious and you stretched your legs out to settle in for the drive. A snow storm had grounded the planes in London and Lando had offered to put you both up for the night. As Charles assistant you had tried your best to find a hotel but with Christmas right around the corner everything decent was booked out.

Lando had said to call him if you ever needed anything, but you hadn’t been brave enough to use it until now.

“Are you sure it’s okay to drive in the snow?”

“It’s 4 wheel drive,” Lando replied as he looked at you in the rear view mirror and reassured you with a smile. “We’ll be fine, but if we get stuck at least we can huddle for warmth.”

Your eyes widened at the departing wink in the mirror and your cheeks could have melted all the snow within the greater London area. It would have been a service to the city worth a damehood by the King himself.

“Stop teasing my assistant, Lando,” Charles said with a laugh. “She accidentally deleted my calendar the last time you flirted with her.”

You wanted to argue but he had left you so frazzled you hit the wrong buttons on your iPad. It had been mortifying and the fact your boss was bringing it up again only made you slink lower in the leather seat. It was hard enough to work with such a handsome man, but the fact that his friends that he competed against were just as handsome made your life much harder. At least Charles paid you so there was a line of employee/employer relationship that kept things professional, but there was still the occasional comment that crossed that line - and you never knew how to handle it. Mostly, your brain just shut down.

Shoving your AirPods in, you started to open Spotify to find a distraction from your embarrassment and they both noticed it.

“I can’t help it, you cannot tell me that you don’t find the innocent vibe hot?”

Your fingers froze over the song you were about to play and realised they thought you were already listening to something.

“She’s my assistant.”

“That’s not a denial.” Lando was grinning from ear to ear. “I bet she’s still a virgin.”

You spluttered indignantly and both men looked at you, Charles over his shoulder and Lando in the mirror. Tugging the AirPods out you narrowed your eyes and lied, “I am not a vir-” you couldn’t even bring yourself to say it but you swallowed and took another attempt, “virgin.”

The weak lie caused a crack in the press of lips, until both men laughed outright. Huffing, you crossed your arms and looked out the window. “Does it really even matter?”

“Aren’t you even curious?” Lando shot back.

“I know all about sex, for Christ’s sake, I do read.”

“I’m not sure reading is quite the same as doing in this case,” Charles said, remembering the many times he caught you slamming a book closed at his entrance. He was even more intrigued about those thick volumes now.

“Reading doesn’t threaten to leave me disappointed as I have heard men tend to do.”

Lando scoffed and shook his head. “I haven’t had that complaint. Charles?”

“No, no complaints either.”

“I’m sure it’s less romantic than the books describe too, like kissing. What is so good about possibly chipping a tooth, or sharing saliva?”

The SUV screeched to a halt into a rest stop and Lando turned in his seat. “Wait. You’re telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Charles asked, before he turned and saw the telltales signs of your discomfort. “No, really? How? You are beautiful.”

Your mind went to that place of thoughtlessness, where every neurotransmitter misfired and your heart seemed to find itself beating in two places. “Uh…” you scrambled for an answer that they patiently waited for. “I don’t have any time to date so it just hasn’t come about.”

Charles certainly utilised your availability to be on call 24/7 but he hadn’t thought about the personal cost that took on you. He assumed you didn’t have or want a social life, not that he was the cause for it. Maybe that was why he next words slipped out without censoring, or so he told himself. “I will kiss you, right now.”

“Or I can, and I’m not your boss so there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it,” Lando countered, already unbuckling his seatbelt. “Everyone deserves a perfect first kiss.”

You gripped the seatbelt across your chest as you tried to understand why they were both unbuckled and opening their doors. Cold air rushed in as both backdoors opened and they slipped in beside you, mist billowing from their breath before the warmth was sealed inside once more.

Your lips felt dry and they watched as the tip of your tongue peeked out between to wet them. Your fingers were gently pried off the belt until each hand was laced with theirs but you still stared ahead at the unhappy quiet road. “What if I don’t want to be kissed?”

Lando scoffed but Charles turned you to face him with one curled finger under your chin and a look that made breathing impossible. “Then tell me you don’t want to be kissed,” he whispered as his lips drew nearer, his breath fanning your cheek. The touch of his lips were chaste at best, a caress on cheek before trailing closer to the place where words failed. Your toes clenched in your boots and you trembled with anticipation until the air burst back into your burning lungs. Your lips parted with the intake and he struck.

Your stomach that had been knotted suddenly erupted in the explicable feeling you had only read about. Butterflies, chaotic and energetic, fluttered joyously around your insides and a foreign sound escaped your lips that danced with his.

“I think she likes that, Charles.” A hand on your throat stole you from the taste that you certainly wanted more of and when you opened your eyes you found the pair change from green to blue. “My turn, gorgeous.”

Lando didn’t tease. His hand squeezed and you gasped in response, a sound so similar to what Charles had drawn from you. He took the opening you gave him and devoured you with the hunger of a starving man. His tongue dominated yours as he tipped your head back and deepened the kiss further until you were certain you were going to be consumed by him.

You welcomed it.

You weren’t adept enough after two kisses to know whose was better, both left you yearning for more. But they were parked on the side of the road and you were all too well aware that losing your virginity in the back seat of a Ranger was not what you wanted. Even if your body screamed yes.

“How do you feel?” Charles asked as he eyed your swollen lips and your dilated pupils between your flustered blinks with pride.

“Uh…” You told yourself to think but it was nearly impossible, and the men chuckled with the knowledge they had kissed you stupid.

“Just think of what other ‘firsts’ we could be,” Lando offered as he ran a thumb along your bottom lip, wanting another taste. “We could be snowed in for a while.”

“Wait, what?” They cut through your mental haze with clarity and you sat up straighter. “No, the airport said tomorrow…”

Charles shrugged and your brows pinched. “The storm’s worsening, it might be a few days until the planes can take off.”

“It’s okay,” Lando assured you with a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll look after you.”

[unhelpfulfemme]

Another thing I liked is how Laurent's trauma is handled, because usually when a character has a Secretly Traumatic Backstory there's some kind of annoyingly maudlin scene about it. Either they get into some kind of big conflict with the love interest and are forced to explain themselves so they don't get judged or dumped, or the love interest intrudes on a vulnerable moment and sees them being abused or somehow handling the consequences of that abuse, or they are explained the circumstances by a benevolent third party, and this changes their view of the abused character because now they're god's poorest meow meow and I just fucking hate it every time.

Like, this is why I stopped reading this type of story: because the amount of crowding and backing into a corner and privacy violation that happens to abused characters in order to coax them into opening up about it and reassure them that they're okay is so annoying. I feel like I've been psychologyposting on main too much lately, so I might explain later why I feel this way or I might not but in any case I hate it.

I love that this book is the literal opposite of that, that Damen not only doesn't crowd Laurent and insist that he open up, but that Damen ensuring space and privacy and time to calm down for Laurent when he's overwhelmed is repeatedly portrayed as an act of friendship and caring and love (that Laurent later reciprocates, because they both lose their heads when something pushes their buttons and understand this about each other).

I also love how Damen doesn't fall in love with Laurent because Laurent is sad and fucked up, or because he's so brave to have put up with the abuse, or because Damen too is sad like Laurent (I'm physically restraining myself from going off on a rant about how shared trauma is hardly ever a good foundation for a relationship): no, he falls in love with Laurent because he's whip-smart, and a good leader, and funny, and tender once he opens up, and a lateral thinker, and a man of integrity who keeps his promises and pays back his debts (and because he's pretty and blonde and good at sporty shit that Damen likes). Some of these things may have been shaped by the awful shit that happened to Laurent, as they were also probably shaped by his station or his education or his body type or any other circumstance of his life, but it's refreshing to have a character who went through awful shit but who also has other things going on for him that make him loveable instead of being completely defined by his trauma. And even when Damen finds out, the way he thinks about Laurent literally doesn't change at all - the things he likes about Laurent are still seen in the same light as always, Laurent's personality as a whole is still the same, even his attitude towards what Laurent did to him when they first met doesn't change much (as we see in the short story epilogue). And even this last bit is really cool because Laurent is never stripped of his agency or made out into some sort of helpless victim currently, both of which would probably mortify him with how much he's trying to establish that he's not at any opportunity.

And I also like how it's not necessary for Laurent to tell Damen about it in order for them to be close, nor does Damen push him into it. And everyone else seems to agree that it's Laurent's story to tell when and how he wants it told, except for the villain of the piece, who reveals it in the most awful way possible. This is particularly important because Damen spends three books grabbing everyone in Laurent's life by the shoulders and shaking them and going, "Why do you care about this guy??? Have you noticed that he's kind of an ashole?? Why are you loyal to him?? Why???" and no one ever says anything, because they're protective of Laurent and don't want to take away his agency or privacy because it's his fucking story to tell. Even after Damen finds out, we don't see him mention it and he probably lets Laurent open up or not on his own terms, as he does with everything else that doesn't directly concern him. Even though we've seen through Laurent's dialogue time and time again that he's probably conceptualizing it in some fucked up ways in his own head and needs yet to realize that he's not some kind of twisted pervert for what happened to him, crowding him about it before he's ready won't accomplish much.

And the story itself backs all this by never being maudlin about it even though it's obvious what happened pretty early on (I figured it out really early, I remember suspecting it almost immediately and being dead sure of it by the Ancel scene in the garden); it kind of elipses around it, gives hints and parallels to other characters in similar circumstances, has Laurent say incoherent shit that makes sense in context, has other characters hint at it, but with Laurent being one of the central characters it's cool that the story gives him that respect and doesn't wallow in the tragedy of it all.

[rubycruzin4abruzin]

Forbidden Crown - II

Summary: Five years after your last visit to Tir Asleen, you finally get to see Kit again. Although you promised your mother you wouldn’t let Kit influence you, her fiery personality and strong will draw you in, and open your eyes to a whole new world of excitement and adventure.

Pairing: kit tanthalos x princess!reader

Contains: fluff, reader’s subtle mommy issues, rebellious kit, weapons, sword fighting, stumbling upon mature illustrations, childlike innocence, implied parent death, one bed, sneaking out

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: this chapter does contain adolescents stumbling upon some ‘sensual’ illustrations in library books. It is purely meant to be part of a ‘coming of age,’ and I even had others proofread it to make sure it comes off that way. Anyways, here’s the second chapter of Forbidden Crown! :)

Almost immediately upon returning to Azarenth, you began pressing your parents about revisiting Tir Asleen.

Your inquiries began innocently. “Mommy, can we go and see the twins today?”

Each time, she’d shake her head. “Not today, sweetheart. Our responsibilities leave no time for such an endeavor.”

Then, you resorted to excuses. “Father, we’ve been so busy, we could really use a holiday. How about a trip to Tir Asleen?”

He’d chortle at the suggestion. “Princess, if we were to go on holiday, it certainly would not be to a place such as Tir Asleen!”

Every day, you would pose similar questions, and as time went on, your parents' refusals became curt, tinged with vexation. Eventually, you ceased questioning altogether, not wanting to further irritate them.

Despite your silence, your mind occupied itself with thoughts of Kit. You longed to keep in contact with her, but your parents thought you weren’t old enough to have your own carrier pigeon. In an attempt to keep her close, you even secretly wore her breeches beneath your dresses until they no longer fit, then kept them stashed in the bottom of your storage chest, hidden from your parents or any prying maids.

Every day, you wondered how she was doing, and every day, you wondered if she thought of you as well.

It wasn’t until just before the summer of your tenth year that you thought you would ever see Kit again. On a golden May afternoon, you heard your mothers voice calling you in from playing outside with some children from the nearby village. Disgruntled, you bid your friends farewell and trudged back in through the castle doors.

Upon entering, you immediately saw your parents sitting in the Great Hall, hands folded on the table in front of them. You gulped; this room was rarely ever used, with the exception of large gatherings or very important meetings. Hypothetical scenarios swarmed your mind as you desperately tried to figure out what horrible thing you had done to warrant a meeting in the Great Hall.

Walking in, you took a seat across from your parents, folding your hands in your lap and refusing eye contact.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we called you in here,” your mother began, never one to beat around the bush.

You nodded slowly, still declining to meet her gaze. Your father cleared his throat, taking over the conversation.

“Princess,” he began. “As you’re well aware, you are a child of nobility. It is very important to us that you grow up receiving the best education and training possible, and that includes learning crucial life skills such as independence and adaptability.”

Furrowing your brow, you nodded, confused. You didn’t have a clue where this conversation was going and frankly wished your parents would just get to the point so you could go back outside.

Almost as if she could read your mind, your mother jumped in. “Your father and I have been exchanging letters with the Queen of Tir Asleen. You remember Sorsha and her twins, don’t you?”

Your ears perked up at this, the mere mention of your long-lost friends sending a wave of sweet nostalgia to wash over you. “Of course! I loved playing with Kit.”

“And Airk,” your mother interrupted, hardening her gaze.

Forgetting that your mother wasn’t necessarily a fan of the Princess of Tir Asleen, you were quick to agree. “Yes, Airk too, surely.”

“After some back and forth,” your mother took a deep breath before delivering the news. “Queen Sorsha has agreed to foster you temporarily. You will be staying in Tir Asleen with her and her children for the summer months.”

Just for a brief moment, you swore your heart stopped beating before a burst of warmth exploded in your chest. Three whole months spent with Kit? Staying in the Tir Asleen castle? Away from your parents? The very thought made you tingle with excitement.

“This is not a holiday,” your mother interrupted your daydream as if she could see your thoughts. “You will be studying under an array of tutors and governesses, receiving a rigorous education and learning proper court etiquette. I hope you don’t think you’re going to spend the entire summer rolling around in mud with that filthy girl.”

Your mother’s slander against Kit made your blood boil underneath your skin, evaporating to your face and turning your cheeks a dark crimson. Every cell in your body wanted to stand up and scream at your mother before shouting Kit’s praises. Instead, you decided to seethe quietly, fearing that speaking up could jeopardize the trip.

As the conversation came to a close and you got up to leave, your mother called your name just before you made it out the door. You took a deep breath, forcing a grin as you turned to face her.

“Yes, mother?” Your voice came out strained and tense.

Her expression turned serious as her jaw stilled, mouth tight in a straight line. She peered at you through her brow, not breaking her gaze for one moment.

“Don’t let that Kit girl influence you. I mean it.”

The following fortnight seemed to drag as you waited impatiently for June to arrive. Each day seemed to tick by slower than the last, until you managed to develop an irrational hatred for the month of May.

When the morning of your departure finally arrived, a servant entered your bedchamber to fetch your storage chest, only to find the room empty and the chest missing. After informing the castle and a brief moment of panic, one of the guards found you already in the carriage, having dragged your storage chest by yourself all the way outside at the first sign of daybreak.

“May we leave now?” You asked, ever impatient.

The castle staff shared a hearty chuckle over your eagerness when your parents stepped outside, dismissing the crew before bidding their final farewells.

“Luck be with you in Tir Asleen, Princess,” your father began, bearing his familiar kind smile. “You’re not to worry about traveling alone, I hired the best coachman in all of Azarenth to ensure your safety.”

Returning your fathers warm grin, you leaned out the carriage window to wrap your arms around his neck. Your mother, nowhere near as affectionate as her husband, simply gave you a tight smile and a curt nod.

“Be on your best behavior for Sorsha, please.”

The day-long journey to Tir Asleen was long and winding, the wheels against cobblestone bricks gently rocking the carriage. Traveling alone for the first time had you a tad nervous, but the friendly coachman made sure to keep you company.

Soon, as the late afternoon sun began its descent, the castle of Tir Asleen gradually came into view. Nostalgic memories rushed through your mind as the stone battlements seemed to pierce the clouds. You leaned your head out the carriage window, feeling the warm wind on your face and breathing in the familiar smell of dew.

The carriage came to a halt at the castle entrance, the sudden stillness of the car making you wonder how long your hands had been shaking. Peering out the carriage window, you saw Airk near the front, sword sparring with another boy around his age.

Disappointment shadowed your face at the absence of Kit, but you tried to hide it. As you waited for the coachman to gather your things, you busied yourself watching Airk spar. He was quite the swordsman, staying quick on his feet, and countering each attack with focus clouding his uncovered face.

Despite Airk’s impressive skill, his opponent still seemed to have the upper hand. You couldn’t quite make out who he was due to a faceplate covering his features, but his technique was precise, perfected, almost as if he’d had to work twice as hard as Airk to get where he was.

Suddenly, Airk momentarily lost his footing on a slippery rock, allowing his mysterious opponent to take advantage and deliver one final strike. Airk tumbled to the ground, the anonymous swordsman moving to stand over him as he conceded defeat.

You couldn’t help but erupt into applause, after all, duels rarely happened in your kingdom. Startled, Airk and his friend turned towards you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’d arrived. You were about to approach Airk and exchange pleasant greetings when his masked adversary suddenly removed his faceplate, shaking out his hair and revealing his identity.

Shock hung from your features. This mysterious man wasn’t mysterious at all! Or a man! It was Kit!

“Kit!” You exclaimed, your voice coming out as an involuntary squeal.

She called your name back and ran to you, enveloping you in a hug. You buried your face into the crook of her neck, damp with sweat from the humidity of the faceplate.

“Your hair got so long!” You commented after pulling away.

It was true. Kits original short chop now flowed in waves down to her mid-torso, making her look oddly feminine even in trousers.

“I hate it,” Kit groaned, pinching a lock of her hair and frowning down at it. “It gets so hot, and I hate having to put it up.”

As she fidgeted with her hair, your gaze traveled down to her wrist, noticing a sandstone silk strand peeking out of her sleeve. Curious, you took her hand and pushed her sleeve up, revealing the ribbon she had stolen from you all those years ago.

“My ribbon!” You exclaimed, surprised and genuinely touched. “You still wear it?”

“Every day,” Kit answered truthfully. “It reminds me of you.”

You turned her wrist over in your hand, admiring the ribbon. The previously bright pink silk had faded into a blush beige, bleached from sun exposure. Once perky bunny-ear loops now drooped down her wrist, tickling the bottom of her palm. It was almost unrecognizable, this old ribbon that time had not been kind to, and the fact that Kit had worn it all these years warmed a special place in your heart.

Airk cleared his throat, startling you slightly as you had forgotten he was there. You offered him an apologetic smile, letting go of Kit’s wrist to shake his hand.

“Forgive me,” you chuckled nervously. “It’s good to see you again as well, Airk.”

The rest of the evening was spent catching up; the three of you laid on patches of grass and recounted events from the last five years until a maid rang the dinner bell. Even at dinner, all of you prattled incessantly. Airk eventually found he’d said enough and focused on his meal, but you and Kit talked through mouthfuls of food, much to Sorsha’s chagrin.

“You can eat or you can speak, but it’s terribly impolite to combine the two,” she scolded.

After the third or fourth lecture, you noticed how they would only come from Sorsha. A brief glance around the table confirmed your suspicions: Madmartigan was absent.

“Where’s your dad?” You whispered to Kit, worried that asking Sorsha directly would upset her.

Kit, however, perked up at your question, eyes sparkling at the mention of her role model. “He’s on a quest! He’s going to fight inside a worm!”

“He’s trying to destroy the Wyrm from the inside, Kit.” Airk corrected.

Kit brushed off her brother, ignoring his comment and continuing. “He’s been fighting the Wyrm for some time now. He’s so busy, but he always has a letter delivered to us on the first of every month!”

She sprang up from her chair, dashing to fetch the most recent letter before being stopped by Sorsha. “Kit, how many times have I said not to leave the table without being excused?”

Kit spun around with a dramatically curtsy and mimed pulling on an invisible skirt. “Mother, may I please be excused from this fine supper? Oh mummy, please may I?”

You stifled a giggle at her theatrics. Sorsha sighed, dismissing her with the wave of her hand. Kit sped out of the room, returning seconds later with a piece of paper and thrusting it into Sorsha’s hands.

“This one arrived today.” Kit explained, leaning over her mother’s shoulder.

Despite Sorsha’s annoyance with her daughter, she couldn’t help but smile as she gingerly pinched the corners of her husband's letter.

“My dear family,” she began reading as Airk rushed over, joining Kit in reading over their mother’s shoulder. “As I venture forth on this perilous mission, know that my thoughts are never far from all of you. My journey to confront the Wyrm may be ripe with danger, but carrying the strength of our family has gotten me through some challenging moments.”

“To my daughter, Kit,” Kit perked up at the mention of her name, leaning farther into the letter as Sorsha continued to read. “Your unyielding spirit and fearlessness are sure to serve you well in all that you do. Always remember to keep your sword sharp and your wits sharper.”

“To Airk,” it was Airk’s turn to lean into the letter. “My son, every day you continue to amaze me. I look forward to returning and watching you grow into the man I know you’re destined to be.”

“And to my lovely wife,” Sorsha’s voice cracked as she read. “Not a day goes by where I don’t picture your face. You are the light that leads me through the darkest tunnels.”

Sorsha sniffed, attempting to discreetly wipe away a tear before reading the last section. “I promise to return one day, victorious and bearing plenty of stories. Until then, I hope you’ll take comfort in these letters. All my love, Madmartigan.”

Kit looked up from the letter, eyes shining with undeterrable admiration. “When I grow up, I want to be just like him.”

Later that night, as you readied yourself for slumber in one of the castle's many guest rooms, a knock interrupted your solitude. You granted permission to enter, fixing your posture and bracing yourself to be greeted by Sorsha. However, your tension eased when the door cracked and Kit’s face poked through.

“I need your help with something,” she whispered, cautious not to disturb any sleeping residents.

“Why? What happened?” You inquired.

Without another word, Kit seized your hand and led you away. You protested at first, feeling naked in your thin nightgown outside the walls of your bedchamber, but Kit's hand wrapped around yours felt soothing, like a warm glove on a cold day, and you knew that no matter where you went, you would be safe as long as Kit was there.

She led you to the end of the hall, down a flight of stairs, and through the doors of the basement, only letting go of your hand to ignite a taper candle and shed some light into the dark room. Weapons of all shapes and sizes mounted the walls, their silver blades illuminating in the candle light. Various types of armor decorated the corners, including the faceplate Kit had worn earlier in the day.

“Is this…”

“The armory.” Kit answered your unspoken question.

You nodded, marveling at the room. Azarenth had an armory in their castle too, but it was heavily guarded, and strictly off limits to you.

Kit plucked a sword from the wall and laid it flat against her palms, presenting it to you. “I need you to cut my hair.”

“What?” You searched Kit’s face for any sign of humor, but found none as she stood completely serious.

“I need you to cut my hair,” she repeated. “I can’t reach back there, and Airk won’t do it because he’s afraid of getting in trouble.”

“What if I get in trouble?” You asked, still in disbelief at her request.

“You won’t,” she replied, completely sure of herself.

Kit still sensed your hesitation, so she put the sword down and took both of your hands in hers. “You’re not going to get in trouble, I promise. My mom won’t let me cut my hair because she says it makes me look ‘pretty,’ but what good is beauty if I’m constantly uncomfortable? Please, I really need you to do this for me.”

There it was again, that feeling of safety that surmounted whenever Kit held your hand. You sighed defeatedly, nodding in agreement. Kit beamed at you as she placed the sword in your hands, but the large piece of metal turned out to be much heavier than you expected and you ended up dropping it, the sword falling to the ground with a loud clatter.

“I haven’t actually… used a sword before,” you admitted sheepishly.

“Hmm…” Kit thought for a second before her face brightened once again, running to a nearby rack and picking up an oddly-shaped knife. “Dagger?”

You agreed, and Kit handed you the dagger, showing you how to grip the handle. As you clutched this foreign weapon, a new sense of power washed over you. You suddenly felt invincible, safe, but a different kind of safe from when Kit held your hand.

“How short do you want it?” You asked, still examining the jagged piece of metal.

Kit shrugged. “I just don’t want to have to tie it up in order to spar.”

She turned around, facing away from you and shaking out her long locks so they all flowed down her back. You gulped, gathering her hair in a handful just below her neck, hands shaking as the previous power evaporated into thin air and replaced itself with anxiety. With one quick slash it was all over, the sharp blade passing through her delicate hairs with ease. A sigh left your lips, relieved to have completed your task. You glanced down to admire your handiwork, but were met with a sight so horrific that the dagger fell from your unsteady hands, dropping to the floor with a sharp clang.

Her hair, once long and beautiful, was now absolutely botched. Tresses meant to float over her shoulders now curled just under her ears, while crooked sprigs stuck out in all directions.

“How does it look?” Kit asked, but you were too afraid to answer.

When you didn’t, she picked up the sword off the ground, admiring her reflection in the shiny metal. Her jaw dropped, eyes wide with shock. She reached up, carefully running her fingers over the butchered ends.

A lump rose in your throat as you became overwhelmed with guilt. “Kit, I’m so…”

“I love it.” Kit said in a low voice.

You blinked, not quite registering what she said. “Huh?”

“I love it!” Kit repeated, grinning from ear to ear. “It’s exactly what I wanted: short!”

“But it’s so choppy and uneven!” You exclaimed, confused by her elation.

Kit shook her head, sprigs flying in every direction. “I look the way I’ve always felt inside: a harbinger of chaos!”

She swung the sword around for effect, giggling like a little kid. You felt yourself relax as you watched her, relieved she wasn’t angry and somewhat enamored by her unbridled joy.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable slam of a basement door reverberated throughout the armory. A tall figure entered, holding a large torch that cast a looming shadow. You and Kit froze, tension palpable as the figure stepped forward, revealing itself to be Sorsha.

Her gaze immediately fixated on Kit’s hair, expression hardening into unreadable stone. “There was a clatter. I was afraid there might be an intruder.”

Slowly, she approached you two, both of you holding your breath in anticipation. She reached out to touch Kit’s chopped tresses tentatively, as if they would scald her. “Your hair…”

You glanced between Kit and Sorsha, a sense of dread settling inside you as you prepared your confession. “Your majesty, I…”

“I did it,” Kit interjected, surprising you. “I got fed up with my long hair, and since you wouldn’t allow me to get it cut, I snuck down here and did it myself.”

Sorsha squinted at her daughter, skeptical at her story. Noticing her doubt, Kit gestured towards you. “She’s here because she tried to stop me.”

Sorsha’s gaze shifted down, noticing Kit still holding a sword, while your hands were empty. She took a step back, her face darkening with a quiet anger. You held your breath, bracing yourself for the explosion, but instead her eyes softened as she turned to you.

“Your mother raised such a well-behaved young lady,” she remarked sweetly before redirecting her attention to Kit. “I wish I had done the same…”

You glanced over at Kit, who appeared unfazed by her mother’s hurtful words.

“We’ll continue this discussion upstairs,” Sorsha muttered through clenched teeth, seizing Kit’s arm and leading her away.

You watched as Kit was pulled out of the basement, the guilt from going along with her lie eating you up from the inside. Part of you longed to follow, to confess your involvement, but your feet stayed cemented to the floor, blocks of concrete too heavy to move.

Just before disappearing through the door, Kit turned to look at you, noting your terror-stricken face. You attempted to mouth an ‘I’m sorry,’ but she vigorously shook her head. Instead, she offered you a reassuring smile, sending a wink in your direction that made your heart squeeze. And just like that, you became certain that everything would be alright.

It would be a full month before you could speak to Kit again.

You were right to be worried about getting into trouble, because Kit had gotten herself into a lot. As punishment, she had been confined to her chambers for the past few weeks, only being let out to assist the scullions with chores. Sometimes, you would pass her walking with the maids in the hallways, and when no one was looking, she would shoot you a funny face that never failed to make you laugh.

The weeks without Kit seemed to stretch, each day growing longer than the last. You eventually grew bored with Tir Asleen, the absence of your friend diminishing the kingdom’s original appeal. Luckily, you at least had Airk to keep you company.

“Why do you think our parents keep pushing us to be friends?” You asked him one day, while you were both taking a stroll around the palace gardens.

Airk simply shrugged. “I wonder that too sometimes. Perhaps they want us to learn about each other's homes?”

You shook your head. “Azarenth is only a day trip away from Tir Asleen, not much to learn. Maybe they just want us to get along.”

“But I don’t recall any conflict between our kingdoms,” Airk remarked.

These were the typical conversations between you and Airk: mundane, frivolous words meant to fill an empty space. It’s not as if he wasn’t pleasant company, but he just didn’t excite you the way Kit did.

One early morning, near the end of the month, you were sound asleep in your guest bed when you suddenly felt a crushing weight moving on top of you, followed by the inability to breathe. You opened your eyes to see a dark figure over you, holding its hands over your nose and mouth. Fear coursed through you as your survival instinct took over, thrashing under the dark figure and screaming pleas muffled by its hands.

“Shh… shh… Princess…” the figure leaned down to whisper in your ear.

Your stifled breath hitched in your throat at the familiarity of the figure's voice. Forcing yourself to calm down, you stared up at the figure, eyes adjusting to the darkness until Kit’s unmistakable face came into view.

“Kit…” you whispered as soon as she removed her hands from your mouth. “What are you…”

“I’m not in trouble anymore,” she cut you off. “I’m free.”

“What…” you sat up to lean on your elbows. “Kit, that’s wonderful. But, what do you mean?”

“My mother’s focusing on Airk now,” she replied. “Come with me.”

She seized your hand once again and pulled you out of bed, disclosing her intentions while leading you across the castle.

“I’m usually awoken this early to assist the scullions with chores,” she explained. “However, this morning one of the more prying maids told me that I’m no longer needed, that Airk will be doing chores now.”

“But why?” You inquired.

“I’ll show you.”

She led you down to the large double doors of the palace library, opening them cautiously to avoid getting caught. The overwhelming smell of old books hit you as soon as you stepped inside, smacking you in the face before enveloping you in a warm hug. Your castle didn’t have a library as much as a few bookshelves here and there, so you couldn’t help but stop and marvel at Tir Asleen’s vast collection of books piled high as the ceiling.

“Come on,” Kit insisted, yanking you out of your daydream and pulling you towards a table in the back of the library that was covered with half-open books. “The maid said that my mother caught Airk reading these late last night, and that’s why he’s in trouble.”

“For reading?” You were puzzled.

“Not just reading,” Kit explained. “She said the literature was lewd.”

“Lewd?”

“Bad.” Kit clarified, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

Your brows furrowed, still confused. “But… how can a book be bad?”

Kit seemed unsure how to answer your question, but was curious to find out. She pulled a paper manuscript off the top of one of the piles and opened it to a random page, both of you gasping at the sight. While the text was nothing extraordinary, the margins of the pages were filled with graphic drawings of women in various states of undress.

Your finger trembled as you pointed at one of the women, the top of her dress pulled down to her stomach. “Is that…”

“I think that’s what they’re supposed to look like. When we’re older.” Kit whispered, not taking her eyes off the page.

Both of you sat at the table and stared at the page in awe, neither of you daring to speak. After a moment, you decided to pick another book off of one of the piles, the cover reading “Carmina Burana.” You glanced at Kit, who bore into you, silently daring you to open it.

Flipping to another random page, you came across a translated poem entitled “Si Puer Cum Puella,” and began to read. “If a lad and his sweet lover, in a room together linger—an ineffable game begins, in their abandoned lips and limbs.”

Looking over at Kit, you expected her to explain what the poem meant, but she seemed as confused as you were. Turning the page, you found more marginalia, these drawings far different from the ones in the manuscript. In the corner of the page was a drawing of a man, carrying a sword in a full state of undress that exposed his flaccid…

You slammed the book shut in disgust, cheeks burning a dark crimson.

“What happened?” Kit questioned.

With a shaky hand, you pushed the book in her direction. She furrowed her brow at you and flipped it open, thumbing through the pages until coming across the drawing. Horrified, she let out a sharp “eek” before slamming the book shut once again.

“Shhh…” you reminded her, remembering what happened the last time you two got caught sneaking around. She nodded, slapping a hand over her mouth.

Both of you stared down at the book as if it had burned you. The air around you felt thick, the only audible sounds being shallow breaths and your own heart beating in your ears.

“Airk has one of those,” Kit finally spoke in a low voice. “I’ve seen it. We took baths together when we were younger.”

“Do they all look like that?” You asked in disgust.

Kit shook her head, gesturing to the abandoned book. “Not like that!”

The two of you stood frozen for another minute before you decided to take a leap of faith, grabbing the “Carmina Burana” and flipping back to the offending page. You tore out the drawing, ripping it to shreds and shoving it down one of your stockings to dispose of later. Glancing over at Kit, she stood shocked, her mouth agape.

“I think boys are nasty,” you exclaimed, grabbing the previous manuscript and revisiting the page with the drawings of women, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Much better.”

For the rest of the summer, you and Kit made it a habit to sneak around in the dead of nights, embarking on secret little adventures just for the two of you. Sometimes you would revisit the back corners of the library to explore banned literature; other times, you would break into the kitchen to eat an entire jar of fruit preserves between the two of you.

But most nights were reserved for nothing but late-night chatter. You would hide in each other's rooms, whispering secrets that dissolved into the quiet of the night, like you did when you were younger.

However, these late nights did take a toll on your daily schedules; neither of you could stay awake during the day. When summer classes started around mid-July, you often found yourself dozing off in the middle of them, frequently waking up to the angry scolds of a palace tutor following the sharp thwack of a ruler against your desk.

One Saturday morning, you were at the breakfast table eating with the Tanthalos family, when you felt yourself start to nod off before being awoken by a sharp jab in the ribs.

“Ouch,” you exclaimed, glaring daggers at Airk, sitting next to you. “What was that for?”

He held up his hands defensively. “You fell asleep on your toast.”

Groaning, you took your napkin and wiped the butter off your cheek. Now that you were awake, you couldn’t help but notice that Kit, who usually sat across from you in a similar state of stupor, was missing.

“Where did Kit go?” You asked Airk.

He gave a half-hearted wave in the direction of the kitchen window. “It’s the first of the month. Where do you think she went?”

Sure enough, Kit had glued herself to the kitchen window, refusing to look away from the nothingness of the outside in case a messenger were to appear out of nowhere.

“Kit,” Sorsha sighed in exasperation. “Come back and finish your breakfast.”

“But dad’s letter hasn’t arrived yet!” Kit protested.

“It’s early morning, the day has just begun. I’m sure your father’s letter will arrive later, now come eat!”

Kit grumbled as she plopped herself back down at the breakfast table, wolfing down her meal in seconds flat before excusing herself back to the window.

Unfortunately, the day’s sun came and went with no letter in sight. By nightfall, Kit was still perched at the window, wringing her hands like a damp towel.

“Time for bed, Kit.” Sorsha commanded, a hint of pity in her voice.

Kit looked up at her mom with wide eyes. “What about dad’s letter?”

Sorsha sent her daughter a reassuring smile, not showing any concern. “Sometimes messengers can get lost, nothing to worry about. I’m sure his letter will turn up soon.”

Several days passed with Kit stationed at the window, growing increasingly anxious each day as she waited for something that never came. By the end of the week, still no letter had arrived, and even Sorsha’s calm composition began to falter.

“Mom,” Kit called from the window, voice coming out small and frail. “Where’s dad’s letter?”

Sorsha rested her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, peering out at the fading sky alongside her. “I’m not sure, Kit.”

“Is he alright?” Kit looked to her mother for reassurance, a small child desperate for a glimmer of hope.

Sorsha opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She turned away from her daughter, letting the silence settle between them like a thick fog. And that was the moment all light died from Kit’s eyes, the innocence of her childhood crumbling before her like a glass vase shattering on tile floor.

That night, you were preparing for a restful evening when your door flung open. Startled, you whipped around to see Kit standing in your doorway. She seemed fragile, like a baby bird with a broken wing.

“Hey,” she whispered, her red, puffy eyes visible in the dim candlelight.

“Hey…” you responded, confused. Your midnight retreats had been put on hold after Kit’s attention turned towards her father’s letter.

“I’m worried about my dad…” Kit admitted in a low voice. “Can I sleep in here tonight?”

Her words tugged at your heartstrings, filling you with sympathy. You agreed, climbing into bed and patting the space beside you. Kit smiled gratefully and crawled onto her side, pulling the covers over the both of you. It was a bit of a tight squeeze to cram two adolescents into a twin bed, as you both had done a lot of growing since your childhood sleepover. But as Kit buried her head in your chest and snuggled up close, the proximity didn’t bother you. The warmth of your bodies merged like two flames into a single fire, becoming one and the same.

“No one knows where he is,” she mumbled into the silk of your nightgown. “Do you think something happened to him?”

You gently scratched her back and soothed her labored breaths, taking a moment to choose your words carefully. “Kit… you are one of the strongest people I know. I really, truly mean that. If your dad has even a fraction of your strength, I know there’s nothing that could stop him from seeing you again.”

Kit’s breathing evened out as your words seemed to reassure her. Her eyelids fought to stay open, a week of restless nights finally catching up to her. You bent down, planting a gentle kiss on her head before you both drifted off to sleep.

Tag List: @chloepricesgirl @canmargesimpson @yourelliewillms @valenftcrush @camilleee222 @prettygirlfemme @slaytillieswooo @love4lyn @joanvisitsrome @athenalive @mih11 @j-pacifica @everybodyhatesari @vii-ofswords @sofi4v13

[monzamash]

tears and scraped knees — daniel ricciardo

fatherhood is about learning the art of letting go. dad!daniel ricciardo x you | 2k warnings – cute shit, mentions of injuries and swearing. masterlist

She was the light of his life the moment she entered it, screaming the house down and crying her lungs out. Pure love personified. She was the apple of his eye, the most precious gift he had ever been given and simultaneously the reason for the grey hair speckling his dark curls; the ones identical to hers. Like him, she was a firecracker, the joker, and the life of the party everywhere she went; smile bright, eyes warm. A rich chestnut brown, flecked with yellow, charming and stunning just like his.

To Daniel, she was your little twin. Your beauty was reflected in her in different ways – in her long locks and dark sense of humour, her tenacity and moral compass. She was strong like you, stoic in her beliefs and confident in her skin.

Smart, magnetic, a bit book-ish like you.

Sporty, energetic and kind like him.

Looking at your daughter was a daily reminder that he was half him and half you – a beautiful symbol of your love, your miracle.

“How ya doin’ back there kiddo?”

“Fine,” She mumbled under her breath, eyes focused on the perfect distraction from the morning ahead – her phone. 

You and Daniel shared a knowing glance; traffic building at the lights as you waited for the signal. There was no doubt in your mind that your daughter was saving herself from a stirring speech by bottling up her feelings. Her father was basically a glorified inspirational speaker in his retirement and she had been on the receiving end of too many over the years – each one cheesier than the last, she would confess to you whenever he was out of ear shot.

“Does Dad realise that I’m not one of his rookie drivers? Like, I know what I need to do to win.”

Strong in her convictions, just like him. A carbon copy.

“Remember to keep your elbows out today, especially around that Maddy girl. I know her dad and I reckon she’s dirty like him so watch her at the sta – ouch.”

Your fingernails digging into his forearm cut off Daniel’s spiel, his eyebrows furrowed and silently asking, ‘what the fuck was that for’.

“Just have fun out there, sweetheart,” You interrupted, saving your daughter from her father’s pep-talk, “Keep your elbows tucked in, shoulders with the part like you were taught.”

Daniel sighed and turned his attention back to the busy streets of Fremantle, weaving his way through the traffic like he was back in Monaco, living out the glory days. He was the first to admit that he was living vicariously through her and passionate about what the world had in store for his not-so-little girl. He saw so much of himself in her now, sixteen and on the cusp of what could be.

But you saw things differently to him. Her path wasn’t paved so clearly in your eyes and you made sure that she remained open to whatever life had to bring. She had it all in front of her; possibilities endless with opportunity and success but that didn’t have to be racing. Your dreams for her weren’t as rigid as Daniel’s; his plan to move the family back to the UK had been vetoed by you when your daughter came to you in tears, begging to stay in school and graduate with her friends.

“But babe, those friends don’t last. It’s all just in the moment when this could be her chance at getting her foot in the door,” He argued until he was red in the face.

“Says the guy who just had Blake and his wife around last week for dinner? Come on, Dan – it’s only a year away.”

“Realistically we should’ve moved when she showed an interest in bikes…” He grumbled, frustration simmering behind his closed eyes.

“What? When she was four? Baby, she’s only sixteen but still, she has her dreams set on riding and when the time is right, we will do everything we can to help her make that a reality…”

Your voice was soft; calming as you rounded the dining table and nestled into the open arms of your husband, “Just let her take the lead.”

Daniel dropped his head onto the top of yours and sighed, “You’re right.”

“I almost always am.”

That wasn’t the last conversation you and your husband had about Joey’s future, her grandfather and namesake chiming in with what he thought was the best thing for her budding career. She was the pride and joy of the whole family; everyone saw her talent from a young age but that kind of pressure had to be managed and that had become your life’s work. Her youth had been so hyper focussed on honing her craft that sometimes you felt like she had lost her childhood to the trials and tribulations of racing.

So you put your foot down where you could; namely saving your daughter from having to sit through another car ride hearing all about her dad’s accomplishments and mistakes – hoping she would learn from him but you both knew better than that. She was so young and so ready to make her own mistakes to learn from, like it should be.

She was stronger than both you ever were – a perfect amalgamation of your love.

One of hardest part about race day for Daniel was taking a step back. Of course everyone knew who Joey’s dad was and of course she copped shit for it. Your dad’s a flog and the only reason you’re here is because of him, had been a couple of the unsavoury post-race reports your daughter eventually confessed to you – teary eyed while she begged for you not to tell Daniel but you did because if anyone knew the power of harnessing negative energy, it was your husband.

But the hardest part of all for Daniel was controlling his emotions. He had Italian blood coursing through his veins after all, passionate and fiercely protective of both his girls. Once Joey came along, you knew the papa bear within that had been lying dormant would arise and alas, you were right. All of those crazy nights in bars all around the world, fighting off sleazy men had prepared him to be a girl-dad.

That side to him was glorious to you, endlessly sexy and usually rendered you useless when he decided to bust out the dad moves but to his teenage daughter, he was a total embarrassment.

“Racing under number 33 is Joey James Ricciardo.”

“Give ‘em hell, JJ!”

Daniel’s loud woo echoed through the small crowd, heads turning in your direction including your daughters and you could sense her scowl under the helmet – mortified.

“Daniel,” You scolded, smacking your husband gently, “She’ll kill us both.”

“I know I know,” He grimaced, “Fuck, I’m sorry – I can’t help it... That’s our baby girl out there.”

The image of your daughter, barely two years old, always flashed in your memory when he said things like that. It reminded you of the weeks spent teaching her how to walk. She was so small but so tenacious and you could see that same proud glimmer in Daniel’s eyes now as he did watching her take her first steps. It was mixed with the same wash of fear he had when he let go of her bike seat down that old gravelled road for the first time, praying to god she didn’t hurt herself and end up with tears and scraped knees.

And sure, that happened. Many Band-Aids and tubes of antiseptic were applied to her bloodied elbows and knees but she was a kid after all, feeling every bump in the road until she found her strengths and soared above the rest. She was as quick as a whip and even faster on track – destined to be her own hero but always inspired by her first.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Daniel mumbled as the two of you waited for the race to begin, his foot tapping on the dead grass and nails already chewed down to the skin.

His white cap was still pulled down, disguised as a promise to his daughter who wanted him to just blend in. Wishful thinking. But there was a time that she didn’t want him to come to her meets, insisting that her life would be so much easier if her dad wasn’t ‘the Daniel Ricciardo’ but you couldn’t buckle on that one.

“Your dad is a strong man but that would kill him, J.”

“But he yells out and brags to all the parents about me and the other kids bully me for it… He doesn’t understand how hard it is being a Ricciardo.”

“Hey,” Daniel’s soft voice startled you both, heads flying towards your daughter’s bedroom door, “If that’s what you want, honey I can stay home.”

She sighed heavily and clutched the lilac pillow on her lap, “I want you there, Dad but people are so mean to me and I just want to be normal for once.”

The mattress dipped as Daniel sat down beside you and reached out for his daughters hands, “You can be anyone you want to be, darlin’ – just say the word and we’ll make it happen. We can be normal… or try to be normal.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at your husband and give him a teasing nudge, “Try being the operative word.”

Daniel smiled and shrugged, “I’ll even wear a disguise. How about that?”

And here you were, hidden behind a couple of gum trees watching your daughter flying through the air and making her fathers hair greyer with every passing second. She was a force to be reckoned with and karmic retribution for all the years you spent white knuckling in garages across the globe.

“Now you know how I felt back when you were racing. Karma is a bitch, my love.”

“Maybe encouraging her to do this was a bad idea after all…” Daniel groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with his shaky fingers as you slid an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“This is sleepover camp all over again. You have to learn how to somehow let her go and spread her wings. That’s all she ever says to me, you know? I wanna be like dad – not afraid, free.”

“I didn’t even realise she felt like that…”

You softly smiled at your husband and pressed a soft kiss to his stubbled cheek, “Don’t tell her I told you.”

my hope for this little story is to build a cute world around it. i have a really nice outline for another part of this story so let me know if that's something you would like. and thank you to @vetteltea for her supportive nudge to post this x

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Floo

Words: 996 😮‍💨

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

It was like James had a sixth sense of when Sirius brought a man home, because the last eight times, he’d tumbled through the floo, needing help with something, or wanting to hang out or to check in on Remus. Each time Sirius had been utterly cockblocked by it.

The ninth time it happened, he’d had enough.

“How do you do it?” He snapped when Davey suddenly remembered that he had an early start in the morning. “How do you do this every time?”

James, to his credit, played dumb, “Do what? I’m just here to return Moony’s book.”

“Where is it?” Sirius said, looking at James’ empty hands.

“Where’s what?”

“The book.” Sirius growled, “The book that you’re returning to Moony, Prongs.”

“Oh, would you look at that? I left it at home.” James chuckled, “Oh well, no harm no foul.”

Sirius strode past him into the hallway and James heard his bedroom door slam. Remus poked his head into the living room a few seconds later.

“I think he’s onto you.” He said wearily.

“No idea what you mean, Moony.” James sat down on the sofa.

“What is it?” Something in the wards?”

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” James smiled as Remus dropped into the armchair.

“I just don’t understand why you’re doing it.” Remus frowned, “I’d ask if you fancy him, but you’re getting married in three months so I almost don’t want to.”

“No, I do not fancy Padfoot. Jesus.” James groaned, “But you do.”

Remus’ face dropped, “Don’t know what you’re on about.”

“Moony.”

“Prongs.”

“Remus.”

“James.”

“Look, I know sometimes I can be… unobservant, let’s say. But not this time.” James pointed at him. “I saw the two of you at our engagement party.”

Remus’ face suddenly went from very pale to very red. “Ah.”

“Yes, ah. It looked like the two of you were finally getting your shit together.” James looked at him over the top of his glasses. “So what happened?”

“Well, we came home, we… spent some time in Sirius’ bed. I woke up alone in Sirius’ bed and we’ve just… never spoken about it.” Remus shrugged, but James recognised that sad look in his eyes.

“Would it kill the two of you to have a conversation?” James sighed.

“Possibly.” Remus said, “It’s definitely been too long to bring it up now, though. And he clearly has no intention of doing so. If anything he’s bringing more men home than he was before.”

“But they’re not staying long are they?” James feigned confusion. “Fascinating.”

“This won’t end well.” Remus couldn’t help but smile. “I'm going to deny all knowledge. Wait, would me bringing people home trigger the same thing?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” James smirked.

“And that’s why I go to their place whenever the opportunity arises, instead of bringing them here,” Remus said.

“Well, that, and you’re not an asshole.” James’ smirk dropped. “I don’t get what he’s doing.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been over and over it in my head.” Remus said quietly, “If he regretted it, he could just tell me. It would suck for a bit, but I’m not a dickhead.”

“Maybe you just need to get drunk together again.”

“That’s a stupid idea.” Remus curled in on himself, tucking his feet under him. “Maybe I should think about moving out.”

“No!” Sirius stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and covering his mouth. James and Remus stared at him. “I don’t want you to move out.” He said quietly after an awkward silence.

“But you understand why he’d want to?” James frowned at him. Sirius nodded. “So, why?”

“I met Emmeline.” Sirius mumbled, “The morning after the party.” Remus’ mouth dropped open.

“Oh, fuck.” His head was in his hands, “Oh shit, oh fuck.”

“Yeah. She turned up for your coffee date wearing less than I enjoyed seeing on a Sunday morning.” Sirius came and sat on the arm of the sofa. “I may have been a bit snippy with her, honestly.”

“Wait, who’s Emmeline?” James asked, looking between them.

“She’s the woman that Remus brought home three days before your engagement party,” Sirius said, not looking at Remus, who was trying not to smirk.

“On a Wednesday, Moony?” James was bewildered.

“Sometimes trivia night is a good way to meet people,” Remus muttered. “I completely forgot that we had plans. Well, that explains why she blocked me.”

“That, and Sirius playing jealous boyfriend,” James added.

“I was not— I didn’t— Shut up, Prongs.” Sirius looked at Remus, “I figured it out afterwards that it was arranged before we… you know. And then I just felt gross for how I reacted.”

“You could have said something, you know.” Remus sighed, “You didn’t have to pretend it never happened and return to your carousel of men.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded, “It was shitty, and the shittier I felt about it, the more I spiralled, and then I thought you’d arranged this thing with Prongs to cockblock me, and then I was petty about it. And then I felt guilty about how petty I’d been, and then I spiralled some more, and yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Moony had nothing to do with it,” James confirmed.

“Yeah, I know that now.” Sirius pointed to the door. “Moody would have something to say about your awareness of your surroundings.”

“Moody can kiss my arse.” Remus shook his head, “We probably should talk about it then?” Sirius nodded.

“Well, that’s my cue.” James stood up. “You’re welcome. I’ll be around to fix your wards tomorrow. Please be clothed.”

“You’re lucky we love you, you know,” Sirius said as James waved before stepping into the fire.

“So at what point do we tell him that we’ve been together for six months?” Remus said as Sirius came to squeeze into the armchair. “He really thought he was onto something.”

“He means well.” Sirius kissed Remus’ forehead. “Love you, Moons.”

“Love you too.” He said, “Tell Davey we owe him a pint.”

Notes:

ha.

Also my headcanon (is it a headcanon if it's your own fic?) is that the first time it happened it was completely innocent, Sirius was just bringing a friend round for a drink or something, but then James showed up and was so pleased with himself that they concocted this plan

[preciouslittle-bhaalbabe]

"Little Dove"

As Astarion makes love to Esme once again after weeks of bonding, she says something that stops his simple plan in its tracks.

Smut, angst, feelings, guilt, fingering, PiV, soft domming, nice simple plans falling apart. ~2k words.

It had been a while since he drank from her last. Since before the intimate night they spent together. The scars were beginning to fade. He kisses her neck softly for a while. Lightly grazing it with his fangs, then biting into her tender flesh as gently as possible. He wraps his other arm back around her, reaching his hand up under her nightshirt, and resting it against her chest to feel her heartbeat. Esme stops painting and humming her tune, sets her brush down and relaxes into him, running her hand along his right leg at her side. Feeding sessions were never really sexual with them before. But he can't ignore the tightness he feels in his trousers with her warm body pressed up against his like this, and her soft hands running up and down his leg, sending chills down his spine. Soft moans escape from his throat against his will as he feeds. It had been a few weeks since that night in the woods. Neither of them had really spoke of it since. There was just a comfortable silence about it. An unspoken bond shared between stolen kisses when nobody was looking, and sleeping in the same tent most nights after everyone else went to bed. He craved her once again, and that was something he didn't plan for.

Esme was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her little tent with her easel lowered to the ground; painting the night sky by candlelight. A half empty glass of wine set on a wooden crate next to her. She hums softly to herself, as she does often. The sounds of the summer night; the crickets chirping, the water of the nearby lake lapping softly against the rocky shore, the crackle of the fire burning low outside, the sounds of her companions sleeping soundly in their tents, it was peaceful. She loved the night and the time she gets to spend under its celestial canvas.

She hears some rustling coming from Astarions tent across the way, and notices he seems to be blowing out the candles in his own little nook. The small flap seperating his space from the rest of the camp opens and he makes his way towards Esme's tent, holding the book he was reading. She smiles to herself then pretends not to notice him coming. Carrying on with her painting and continuing to hum her little tune. Astarion lightly taps on the tent wall and pokes his head in.

"Good evening, little dove" Astarion purrs. "Can't sleep either?"

"Oh! Hello Astarion. Was I being too loud?"

"Not at all, in fact I think your little melodies have lulled everyone else to sleep" he says fondly. He invites himself into her tent and closes the flap behind him.

"I hope you don't mind if I join you?"

"Of course not. You know I always relish your company" Esme says with a sweet smile. Astarion sets his book down on the nearby table next to the half empty glass of wine, walks over to where she's sat on the floor and sits directly behind her. He spreads his legs to either side of her and wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his head into her neck.

"What are you painting?"

"The view of the night sky from atop that temple of Selûne we encountered. The one that's now a goblin camp." Esme says sadly. Seeing the temple dedicated to her goddess defiled like that was a somber sight, and Shadowheart wasn't exactly comforting.

"You're making it look so beautiful. Like how it did during its prime." Astarion says.

"Mhm...Darling, are you hungry? Is that why you came here?" Esme asks.

"I came here because I missed you. But yes, a little. That might just be because I'm sitting behind such a decadent creature though." Astarion says, clearly smiling into her neck.

"You can feed on me tonight, if you'd like" Esme says, continuing her painting. She starts humming absent mindedly once more.

"Thank you darling." Astarion sits there for a few moments, holding her. Listening to her hum that sweet melody and feeling the vibrations from her voice radiate into his body. He adores how soft she is. How safe she feels. How she is the ultimate comfort of his racing mind and yet somehow the very cause of it as well.

Astarion gently moves her silver hair to the side with one hand while keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist. Exposing her pale, slender neck. She was ethereal, with pure white skin and light blue freckles peppered across her soft and kind face, making their way down her body like little stars. Pearlescent white scales lined her cheekbones up to her temples. Indicating her ancestry isn't purely elven. Cold pale blue eyes; curtained by soft, long white lashes, were focused intently on the canvas before her. She looked unlike anything he had seen before. Like she was sculpted from the moon itself.

Astarion focuses on her neck. Flawless for all except the two small puncture scars that indicated past feedings.

He tentatively moves his hand from her heart to her right breast, massaging it. Esme reaches behind her to run her hands through his hair. Breathing slowly. After a few moments like this, she lightly taps his arm to indicate that's enough. He unlatches his fangs from her neck. Licking and kissing the wound gently.

"You alright?" Astarion asks in between placing soft kisses on her left shoulder and tracing against her skin with his hands.

"Mm, mhm" Esme says.

"Oh, already speechless are we?" Astarion purrs.

"No it's just- your hands against my skin. It feels nice. Relaxing even."

"Mhm" Astarion hums, his mouth pressed against her shoulder still. He continues to trace his fingertips against her soft skin, exploring every curve he can reach. Esme seems in almost trance. Her heartbeat slowed and her breathing deep and low. Resting fully with her back against his chest. He moves both hands to her breasts now, tracing around her nipples as he watches them pebble under her nightshirt. His nightshirt actually. But he has let her keep it and he hasn't seen her sleep in anything else since.

"Darling, how would you feel about a little death with me?"

Esme opens her eyes and sits up to turn and look at him. The sudden loss of her warm skin on his makes him almost whimper. Without her, the night feels cold. Esme looks at him with an intense look of lust and desire in her eyes.

"I was wondering if you wanted to do that again" Esme says.

"Of course I do, that time was very special to me" His voice sounds almost desperate. He needed to feel close to her again. He craved it.

"And you, you were lovely". He takes her hand and starts kissing each fingertip. Then he guides her hand to his face to bring her closer. She understands and cups his face with both of her hands and presses her forehead against his. Closing the gap between them once more. Astarion crosses his legs and Esme climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. He places his hands on her hips and starts kissing her softly. Astarions trousers now showing a large and obvious bulge. He moves his hands down to her bottom and grips her flesh. Causing her to move her hips against him. She gasps and grabs the back of his head with a newfound intensity that he hasn't seen from her yet. He wonders how long she had been waiting for this. Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, he pushes against her, signaling her to stand up with him. Once standing he removes his shirt and trousers. Tossing them to the side.

"Hm" Esme chuckles, eyes full of fondness. "You're a work of art, Astarion".

"I was just going to say the same thing about you, my little dove". Astarion approaches her once again and lifts his nightshirt from her frame. Revealing that she was wearing absolutely nothing underneath. No undies whatsoever.

"Well now, is this a regular habit of yours?" Astarion purrs.

"What can I say? I don't like wearing undergarments" Esme laughs.

Astarion walks over to the small bed Esme has in her tent, climbs onto it and sits down, legs spread.

"Sit in front of me, love. Just like before".

Esme walks over and does as he asks. Sitting cross-legged between his legs on the bed. Astarion begins with placing his hands on her breasts like he was before. Massaging them gently and squeezing her nipples between his fingers. Then, with his left hand he slides down to her sex, already aching with arousal. His cock pressing against her back needily.

"Lean back against me and lift your hips, please".

She adjusts herself accordingly and Astarion slowly slides his fingers down to her clit, rubbing it gently. She's sopping wet already. So he wastes no time in inserting his fingers into her enterance, causing a soft moan to escape Esmes lips.

"That's it, sing for me, little dove"

Esme lets herself go and comes undone as Astarion teases her nipple and fucks her with his fingers. Her voice soft and gentle. He times his breaths with hers with his mouth pressed against her ear. The cold air sending shivers down her spine. He wishes she would scream his name loud, let the entire camp know she was his. But that's not like her. Everything about her is soft and quiet. Docile as a lamb. Her legs shake and her hips buckle as she rides over the edge of bliss. Astarion holds her against him tightly and bites into her shoulder, causing a slightly louder moan to come out from her. He didn't bite her to feed, he wanted to mark her. This sudden possessiveness coming out of seemingly nowhere. Esme collapses against his chest, breathing heavily. Astarion then adjusts positions so she is on her back on the bed and he is on top. He presses himself against her and kisses her deeply with a new hunger he can't quite place. He cradles her head in his hand and spreads her legs open with his knees. Propping himself up with his knees and elbow. Their tongues dancing together in unison. He then sits up for a moment, taking her in. Her eyes wide and wanting, her lips parted slightly and her chest rising and falling with every breath. A faint purply-red flush fills her face and the tips of her ears. She looked just as hungry as he was.

"You are absolutely beautiful" He says, breathless. Esme smiles wide and gestures him to come back to her. He returns to the position he was in and lines his hips up so that his cock is just coaxing her enterance. He moves the head of his cock back and forth along her slit to get the surface as slick as he can. Then pushes himself in. Esmes head reels and her back arches. Astarion runs his free hand along her spine and nuzzles himself into her neck once more. Only he gets to see her like this. His little moon maiden. His quiet and reserved angel. Only he gets to watch as she comes undone by his touch. He feels her walls clench then relax around his newly inserted length. Then he starts rocking his hips slowly. Relishing in every moment inside her. He has made love to countless people but even that first time with her, it has been different. All the time they've spent together. The late nights talking, the random gifts and gestures of affection, the stolen kisses and holding hands when they're alone. All of it was different. These past weeks with her have been nothing but pleasant. She is lovely and treats him with such kindness and care. Even though he lied to her and snapped at her and caused her pain. She has never once stopped being caring and kind. It's driving him mad. He just wanted safety and now he can't imagine life without her.

His thrusts become deeper and more passionate. Causing Esme to moan with that sweet voice he adores so much.

"Mmph, Astarion I-"

Oh gods no. Don't say it. He thinks.

"I love you"

Shit. Astarion whimpers and moans into her neck as those three little words send him into a frenzy. He thrusts into her with all the feelings he has. Anger, lust, guilt, grief, adoration. He pours it all into her. Before he knows it they're both reaching the edge together, and he's cumming harder than he can remember ever before. He falls into her and she wraps her arms around him. Lightly stroking his back with her fingers.

"You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know" Esme says sweetly. He can do nothing but hold her. No words come to him. He wants to tell her everything, that he had a plan, that she fell for it, but now things are getting complicated and he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what else he can be for her. But none of that matters right now. He can only think about how nice it feels to be held after sex. To not have someone ripped away from him never to be seen again. To have sex because he wanted to. He feels truly loved and cared for. And has no idea what to do about it.

[kteezy997]

The Lady in Waiting-Part Four//King Hal

Warnings: secret relationship, engaged Hal, brief mention of sex

Another kinda long read(:

You did not see the King at all the next day. But you were definitely kept busy with the future Queen. Her final wedding dress fitting took many hours, but she was finally at a point where she was content with the way it looked. It was extravagant and layered, not your personal taste, but your lady did look beautiful, as she always did.

That evening, you were finally free from your duties, and Sophia had retired to bed. You desperately wanted to forget about the wedding for a while and escape into a book, so you decided to take Hal up on his offer. You made your way to the library, elated to find it unoccupied.

You smiled to yourself and lit the candle to light up the room some. You browsed through the many books, but your mind wandered elsewhere. You had become increasingly aware of your inferior feelings toward Lady Sophia. She was an effortless beauty, all her life she had been told how lovely she was by everyone she came in contact with. You were never perceived this way.

Since your mother passed away though, your father did his best to make sure you felt special in your own way. He instilled in you the beauty of kindness and intellect. You knew you had value that did not depend on your looks. But the jealousy still persisted. This night, you realized how much you missed your family, especially your father whom had to stay back at home.

You chose to thumb through an English history book. You wondered if Hal’s ancestors would be featured. You hoped that the subject matter would distract you from your real emotions.

You sat down in a chair near the window and under the night stars. You enjoyed the quiet and the learning you were doing. About a fourth the way through the book, you heard the door open and your eyes went to it.

You grinned and shook your head slightly. “You always seem to find me, Your Majesty.”

Hal smiled, “Well, I have come to think that you and I are like two magnets, my dear. Once the force is there, they cannot help but be drawn to one another.”

You could not help but blush. “You are not to be speaking to me that way, my Lord.”

“Hm.” he hummed with a little smirk as he glanced over the sea of books, walking slowly with his hands clasped behind his back. “Forgive me, it is not an easy habit to break, my Lady.”

“I am no Lady, Hal.” you said, mindlessly letting your eyes scan the page of the book.

“You are to me. May I ask to be your friend? What harm is there in being friends?” you saw him furrowed his brows at you.

You sighed, closing your book, “Of course we can be friends. Perhaps I was too harsh the last time we spoke. Lady Sophia herself seemed delighted at the idea of you and I being close. She does not suspect anything further.”

He then smiled wider, “It is settled then, friend.”

You nodded at him, returning a smile. As his eyes lingered on you, you began to wonder if he thought about you, late at night, as you did about him.

“I cannot stay long. I must retire, I have council early in the morning.” Hal informed you. He was obviously not enthused about retiring early, perhaps he did not want to leave you.

“Oh, a shame.” you stood, “When I saw you come in, I thought we could enjoy one another’s company. Who knows if that will be possible once you are married.”

“Nothing will change, I can assure you that.” he walked over to you, taking your hand.

“What do you mean?” you frowned, keeping your hand in his.

“The Queen and I will not share a bedroom.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head, you were nearly frantic, “What? Why, Hal? Does she know this?”

“No,” he was oddly calm, “I have not discussed it with her yet, but I simply wish to keep my space as my own. I am not attracted to her in that way.” he closed his eyes for second, wincing slightly, “I do not feel any real connection with Sophia other than perhaps a friendly one. But not even close friends. So, we can live separately as husband and wife.”

You blinked, shaking your head in disbelief, “That will devastate her, Hal. What about…children?”

“She can have a child whenever she pleases but the…act will only be carried out for the purpose of conception. My doctor says I am in perfect condition to sire babies, so it shall not take more than a few tries with Lady Sophia.”

You knew what the act was, and you did not want to picture him doing it with Sophia, or any woman, really. “Hal, that is not a marriage.”

“It will be my marriage. I do not desire her. I desire you.” he started out firm, but his voice cracked slightly with the last sentence. He covered it up by clearly his throat. Still, you could see the tears well in his eyes.

“Hal, I am so sorry. I never thought I could have come between you and her. I feel so awful. I cannot believe I have done this to her.” you put your hand on your head.

“You have done nothing, my dear. It is me.” he took your other hand and held it to his chest. “I fell for you so quickly, there was nothing you could do. It was my doing. Please, do not blame yourself for what I feel.”

With that, you threw your arms around him, pressing your lips to his. You held his face so delicately in your grasp, “You are not alone in what you feel.” you admitted. “I cannot escape it either. I wake each morning thinking that I am cured, but then I see you and I am weak again.”

“I am weak for you.” he breathed out lowly, his parted lips not more than an inch from you. He shook his head, reluctantly saying, "But as I said, I have to retire for the night.” he tucked his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him. "Goodnight, my darling girl. Tomorrow, I have a surprise for you."

Your eyes widened, "A surprise? What do you mean, Hal?"

He chuckled, removing his hand from your chin, and backing away, "You will find out soon enough. Sleep well."

With that, Hal left the library, and you were suddenly anxious for the next day.

..................

Nothing out of the ordinary arose when you were getting Lady Sophia ready in the morning, until she said in the most excited voice: "Oh, I have wonderful news, y/n, Hal has arranged for my mother to arrive early for the wedding. She will be here today, just in time for a special lunch, just for the two of us. And it is all set up by my sweet, sweet husband."

He is not your husband, yet, you said in your mind.

"That is wonderful, Your Majesty." you said, figuring that now was as good of a time as any to start calling her that. She will be Queen tomorrow. You nearly shuddered at the thought of her and Hal's wedding kiss.

"Imagine:" she continued on, "the King of England, running a country and its people, with all of his royal duties and he somehow found the time to do something so special for his bride. Oh, y/n, I truly think love could be blooming between Hal and I."

"You do not know what love is." you did not realize you had mumbled the words out loud until you felt Sophia glare at you. "And neither do I, my lady, we are both so young!" you did your best to conceal your slip up, "But how exciting for you, and for the King as well."

She smiled, "Yes, we could be a love match, after all."

The woman was beaming, and you could not feel any more guilt in that moment. Guilt for your feelings, for kissing Hal, and for all of the other things that you desired to do with him.

Lady Sophia did not require your assistance during the extravagant lunch visit with her mother, so you were free in the midday. You left the threshold of the dining hall, heading for the library but just as you had approached the hallway, you heard footsteps and had no doubt as to whom it was.

"Y/n." Hal said your name as he approached you.

“Hal,” you smiled, “what are you doing here?”

“You did not forget about my surprise, did you?” he smirked, leaning in close to you.

“Are you sure the surprise was not for Lady Sophia? You sent for her mother a day early. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Yes, I did. But I did not do it for Sophia. I had the day arranged so you would have some free time and I could take you out riding. My horses are all ready.”

“Riding? You did this for me? Hal, if she realizes we are off together, alone..”

“She is busy. And I have met her mother, she is rather chatty, therefore I presume that they will have a lot to catch up on.” he grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Leaning in even closer to you, he said, “We have nothing to worry about.”

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[cambion-companion]

matey. I have this cute soft idea if you're interested in writing it ofc. basically fem reader where she's a lady of noble blood and knows aemond since they were kids. but there was always this awkwardness around them which slowly turned into disgust (lol bish why you lying, why you always lying) one day she's with helaena or lady friends and they ask her who she would marry from court if she had to choose which she replies with "I would marry aemond in a heartbeat" forgetting that she said that out loud with aemond overhearing it somewhere hiding behind a pillar or something lol. and the next day she keeps questioning herself why aemond is suddenly wearing his nice clothes, helping her with something? and then when she wants to bid him goodnight he replies with a sneaky "I would marry you too in a heartbeat" which ends with her all flustered or something lol. idk what this is honestly, It just popped into my head.

Hi dearest! I'd love to write a lil something based on this lovely prompt!

Aemond x reader | fluff | Aemond being as discreet as a car backfiring

Laughter surrounded you, the ladies you sat with in the fragrant gardens tittering to each other, blushes upon their dimpled cheeks. You set aside your book of Old Valyrian poems and leaned in conspiratorially. "Okay Rosaline, your turn. Who would you marry?"

Rosaline, a lovely curvy girl around your age with russet curls and a freckled face, laughed harder. "I cannot say, lady Y/N. Though lord Jason Lannister is rather easy on the eyes is he not?"

You shrugged. "If you go for that sort of pomposity, I suppose."

"Well, who do you fancy, Y/N?" Rosaline asked, huffing at you with slightly narrowed brown eyes.

You hesitated, all eyes now upon you, growing more curious with each second of silence.

"Well? Now you have to tell us!" A girl with straight brown hair piped up, her doe eyes mischievous. "You were so eager to hear our own secrets!"

"I...I've always. Well. Prince Aemond if you must know." Your fingers clasped together upon your lap, so tight your knuckles went white.

There was a beat of stunned silence, then the girls lapsed into another fit of giggles.

"Prince Aemond?" Rosaline choked.

"Haven't you been friends since you were children?"

"I thought they went for their siblings?"

"He doesn't have an eye, Y/N! How could you possibly think he's a suitable match?"

"Excuse me." You said rather flatly. "When any of you ride the largest dragon in Westeros, then you can talk."

"He is rather easy on the eyes." A Tyrell girl spoke in a thin voice. "Though I've heard rumors circulating he is rather callous and keeps to himself."

"He's not callous." You defended. "Though we do have our disagreements."

"Oh yes!" Rosaline tittered again. You fought the urge to smack her. "I've heard you two have been at odds the past few weeks. Lover's quarrel?"

"I-we are not-where did you hear...you know what it doesn't matter." You rose abruptly, forgetting the book beside you on the bench. "Aemond alone is worth a hundred times more than all of you put together. I would marry him in a heartbeat."

"What's under that horrid eyepatch he wears?" A sneering Lannister lady sniggered.

"Something far more interesting than what's under your garish skirts!" You shot back, a shocked silence following your impetuous outburst.

You cast one last scorching look over the gathered women, before gathering your dress and taking your leave of them, face burning.

You retired to your chambers, skipping the dinner feast, not wishing to see those girls again that day. You were still fuming. It was true, you and Aemond had not spoken since a heated argument a few weeks prior. However, this was not the first time you two had been at odds. Nor would it be the last, you reckoned.

A soft knock at your door roused you from your contemplation beside the fire. You rose from the sofa, crossing the carpeted floor and swinging the heavy oak door open to reveal Aemond standing in the doorway.

"Oh!" You said, too surprised to come up with anything witty.

"Walk with me?" Aemond held out his arm for you to take. His hair looked like it was freshly brushed, shining silver in the torchlight as he guided you down the hall into a deserted courtyard.

The evening air was alive with birdsong, the sky above a shock of orange and red as the sun made its western descent.

"I came to apologize." Aemond said as the two of you meandered out into the gardens you had spent your afternoon in.

"Apologize? You? Be still my heart!"

"Don't make me regret it, Y/N." The prince groaned, releasing your arm and turning to you, the vista of the city's red roofs and the sparkling sea framed behind him. "I behaved...rather appallingly and I regret not coming to you sooner."

"You were a bit of an ass, tis true." You smiled impishly at the way he fought down a grimace at your words.

"As if you were any better."

"I was right." You folded your arms across your chest.

Aemond clasped his hands tightly behind his straight back. "It is a matter of opinion whether Dorne is more progressive than us."

"No, Aemond. I'm afraid that's a fact."

Aemond breathed hard through his nostrils; you watched with interest as he collected himself. "I came to apologize not to argue further."

He opened his jacket and pulled out a small box from a pocket within. "And to give you this as a sign of my...remorse."

You squinted at him. "Did your mother tell you to say that?"

Aemond didn't answer, his brow raising at you as he gestured for you to take his gift. You lifted the box from his palm, undoing the string and opening it. A silver brooch lay within, bearing the insignia of your house. Small finely crafted letters spelled out your house words below the image.

"It's quite lovely, my prince." Your face softened as you took it out and fasted the piece to your bodice. "I will wear it with pride. Thank you."

Aemond graced you with a genuine smile, his eye lingering upon the pin now secured above your heart. You tracked his gaze with interest as it roved across your curves before snapping guiltily back up to your face.

"See something you like?" You teased, flashing a grin at him.

Aemond didn't answer, though he held your gaze as you stepped closer, noting how the breath caught in his throat at your sudden proximity. Your brow furrowed as you looked at the odd expression on his face, nothing you had seen there before.

"Are you well, Aemond?"

"No." Aemond shook his head. "Let us continue our walk."

The two of you walked side by side around the gardens, the deepening twilight enveloping you, stars unveiling one by one in the dusky sky. Your knuckles brushed against Aemond's, you extended your pinky, hooking it around his. Heat rose to your face as Aemond's fingers slid to tangle with your own, your hands intertwined as you strode along the path back to the Keep.

He did not break his grip on you, even as you stood again before your chamber door.

"This is where I bid you a good night, Y/N." He spoke softly.

"Yes, it is." You sounded breathless, not pulling away as he turned to face you directly, leaning down as he brushed his lips to the back of your hand.

"Y/N?"

"Yes, Aemond?"

"I would also marry you in a heartbeat."

You stopped breathing. He had overheard the whole exchange in the gardens. Blood rushed in your ears as, wide eyed, you watched as Aemond lingered long enough to take in your expression before he turned on a booted heel and strode down the hallway.

Gathering your wits once more, you shouted after him just as he reached the corner. "Aemond!" He halted, looking back at you with ill-concealed amusement. "Get back here or so help me..." You pointed to the ground in front of your door.

"We can continue this discussion tomorr-"

"No. No, you don't get to say something like that and just walk away." You hissed, leaving your chamber open as you stomped down the hallway to where he stood waiting, his lilac eye sparkling with delight.

Aemond took your forearms in his hands when you reached for him, pulling you in so quickly you stumbled, falling against his chest. "You overheard me today?" You asked, looking up at his angular face as his fingers traced your jaw.

"Mmm. I did indeed. You're quite the sight in your anger." His eye glittered. "Even more enchanting when it's on my behalf."

"They were wrong to say such things." You breathed, your voice only a whisper as the distance between your faces slowly closed.

"I rest easy knowing I have a champion in you, to defend my honor." Aemond chuckled, his breath tickling your lips.

You weren't sure who moved first, or if it was simultaneous, but you felt the press of his mouth against yours, your eyes fluttering closed as your hands buried themselves in his silken hair.

He moved against you, backing you up until you hit the wall, a gasp at the impact opening your mouth to him as he began exploring you with his slick tongue. The scent of him surrounding you, the feel of him caging you in, pressing his knee between your thighs, drew a soft whimper from your lips that he drank down with relish.

"Do that again." He murmured, tugging your hair until you exposed your throat to his touches.

"Make me." You smirked at the arched ceiling, quickly losing what little composure you had won back as he took your challenge to heart.

Aemond made you emit many more sounds of pleasure throughout the course of that night. Stifling your cries with his large hand at one point so as to not alert any nearby guard patrols. With the promises of a lifetime together to come he claimed you as his own, swearing in return to be yours until his dying day.

[janeyseymour]

Hii

Can you write a Mel x reader where they go to the PECSA and there is only one bed available? They describe themselves as reaaaally good friends until everything changes.

Can you make it with a happy ending? Ty ❤️

I hope this is what you were asking for!

What happens at PECSA...

WC: ~3k

“PECSA,” Melissa grins. “Here we come!” She turns in her seat to glance at you sitting in the back. Barb and her had been kind enough to let you tag along with them.

“Oh, Y/N,” Barb chuckles as she drives. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into tagging along with the two of us.”

“I know what I got myself out of by not going with Janine and Jacob,” you giggle. “I still don’t know how Gregory puts up with the two of them sometimes.”

“Love does weird things to that man,” Barb makes a face. “God, I can’t wait to not have to listen to those lectures and relax in a hot tub instead. I’ve been around a while, I don’t know why I’m still required to go to these things”

“I’m ready for a couple of math-o-ritas, and then I’ll be schmoozing all of the different companies to get them to donate supplies to Abbott,” Melissa cheers from her seat.

You, on the other hand, aren’t quite sure what to expect. The last time you went to PECSA, you mostly just kept to yourself and kept your head down. You were a new teacher, and you figured you should at least look like you were trying. But that was last year. Now, you have Melissa and Barbara to help you out, and if the three of you get caught not participating... you’re sure one of them will get you out of the sticky situation.

It takes you a bit longer to get to your destination, and both senior teachers are all grins once you’re finally there.

“Oh, PECSA,” Melissa sighs in content as she grabs her bags. “How I’ve missed you.”

“Come on, Melissa,” Barbara laughs. “If we want to be able to raid the minibar before the opening dinner, we have to get in there! Now!”

The redhead all but rolls her eyes as she moves out of the way, allowing the kindergarten teacher to grab her various bags.

“Jeez, Barbara,” you laugh as you look at the amount of things she’s packed for a weekend. You have one duffel bag and a backpack filled with everything you could possibly need, and she has... is that really five bags?

“I’m very serious about my nighttime routine, Y/N,” she says lowly. “I don’t look this good by doing nothing, you know.”

“C’mon, you two,” the redhead teases the two of you. “Let’s go check in and get settled in.”

You let Melissa and Barbara check in first before you step up to the counter. 

“Checking in for Y/N,” you say politely.

The clerk clicks around a few times on his computer before giving you a look. “I don’t have a reservation under that name.”

You look baffled. You had booked your room months in advance- you had booked it with Melissa’s guidance because she knew a guy who could get you a good deal. “That’s impossible, you say softly. I booked my room months ago.”

“Did you get a confirmation email?” The concierge asks.

“I did,” you mumble as you pull out your phone, searching for it. You pull it up as proof.

Your coworkers are watching curiously. It hadn’t taken that long for them to check in.

“You think she’s okay?” Melissa leans in close to Barb.

“I’m not sure,” the kindergarten teacher replies. “She looks a little frazzled.”

“I’ll check on ‘er,” the redhead tells her friend. “Watch my stuff.”

“You okay?” Melissa comes up behind you and sets a hand on your shoulder.

You take a shaky breath. “Fine. They just messed up my reservation, so now they’re looking to see where they can put me, and they’re figuring out how much I get back since I won’t be put in as nice of a-”

“They fucked up your reservation?” the redhead cuts you off. “Oh... Vinnie’s gonna get an earful about this one.”

“It’s okay,” you lay a hand on her arm. “It’s fine. It’s all gonna get squared away, and then we can focus on having a good time at PECSA.”

“No, I’m gonna-” Melissa looks like something has triggered her ‘fight-or-fight’ response.

“It’s okay,” you promise her. “It’s all gonna be fine. Things happen, mistakes happen.”

She doesn’t look very happy, but she does take a breath. If you say it’s fine, she’s trusting you. She goes over and tells Barb what’s happening, and they both come and stand at your sides.

Except then the clerk is coming back over to you, and he doesn't look too excited to share whatever news he has with you.

“Miss Y/N, I am so sorry,” he states quietly. “We’re operating at maximum capacity for this weekend due to the conference, and we will not be able to fit you in. We are in the process of providing a full refund to you as we-”

“What the hell?” Melissa asks from behind you. “How’d you goof up that bad?”

“Mel, it’s okay,” you say quietly. “I’ll just find a different hotel to stay in.”

“No, you’re not,” the second grade teacher bites out. “Because you’ll be staying with me in my room.”

“And we expect a full refund for her,” Barbara cuts in. “And some sort of credit. It’s the least you can do for the poor girl.”

“Guys, it’s fine,” you turn red. They’re fighting for you, and the idea of staying with Melissa? Well... you’ve had a thing for her since you first started at Abbott, but it’s never gone anywhere past coworkers. Staying with Melissa could be dangerous territory if you weren’t careful.

“Like hell we’re gonna let you stay somewhere,” the redhead tells you seriously as she picks up your bags. “The plan is to get hammered, and there ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you take an Uber to and from a different hotel.”

“She’ll be accepting an apology in some form of credit,” Barbara hits the concierge with a stern look again before the three of you walk away.

“Maybe I should just go-”

“Go where, kid?” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Barb drove, so you’re stuck here. Might as well make the best of it, yeah? Now, are you gonna share a room with me, or spend your time on one of these nasty ass couches in the lobby?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” you ask.

“Nope,” the redhead pops her ‘p’. “Let's go, hon. If we hurry we can still get a couple of glasses of wine in before tonight’s event.”

The three of you get into the elevator and head for your rooms. 

“I’ll meet you down at the pool in an hour?” Barb asks. At yours and Melissa’s nods, she lets herself into her room next to Melissa’s... and now yours too.

The redhead unlocks your door and gestures for you to go first. You look around. This place is... wow. It’s really nice. Whatever her cousin Vinnie did to get her this nice of a room had to have been pretty big. You set your things on the floor over by the rather uncomfortable looking couch that is taking up space on the other side of the room.

“Oh come on, Y/N,” Melissa chuckles. “You can put your stuff on the bed.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you mutter nervously, tucking a hair behind your ear and rubbing your collar bone gently.

“You ain’t intruding. I invited you to stay with me for the weekend,” she says pointedly. She glances at where you’ve decided to set your things. “And you’re not sleeping on that ratty ass couch, so don’t even try it.”

“You don’t think this is... weird for us to share a bed?”

“It ain’t weird if you don’t make it weird,” your colleague shrugs as she reaches for her bag. She pulls out a couple of shooters. “Now, are you ready to get PECSA weekend started or what?”

You, Barb, and Melissa end up by the pool an hour later. You had made your appearance, and now you were fully taking advantage of the fact that everybody else was so preoccupied with PECSA events that you had the entire pool room to yourselves.

“Best weekend of the year,” the kindergarten teacher raises her glass. 

“Seriously,” Melissa responds. “Bottomless margs, a heated pool, and a relaxing weekend with two of my favorite people.” While Barb smiles, you blush. You didn’t know you were that high up on her list. You honestly weren’t even sure you were on her good list to begin with, so hearing that you were in ranks with the kindergarten teacher definitely took you by surprise.

“To PECSA,” you say quietly and take off your coverup before reaching for your book. You miss the way that Melissa’s eyes check you out, just like how you had missed it in the hotel room.

You end up falling asleep not much later, a glass of mimosa sitting next to you, and your novel is open and laying on your chest.

Melissa looks over to you. “Wow.” She can’t remember the last time she’s seen you so still- so at peace. You were always running around at Abbott, and even when you were sitting, a part of your body was almost always bouncing up and down. Now, you just look calm. You look... gorgeous. Even with your hair tied up carelessly and no makeup on, Melissa thought you looked absolutely stunning. 

“Poor girl’s been working herself so hard this year,” Barbara tuts. “She’s been exhausted lately.”

That was not what the redhead was referring to, but she’ll play along. “I know,” she laughs nervously. “We’ve barely been here for an hour, and she’s already fallin’ asleep on us. Hope she can keep up with us later tonight.”

“It’s a good thing we were there when the clerk told her there wasn’t any more room,” Barb says, lips turned up. “Otherwise the poor thing would’ve probably Ubered home and not enjoyed this weekend with us.”

“Yeah,” the second grade teacher says noncommittally. She’s still got her eyes on you. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen you looking more beautiful than you do dozing off in the lounge chair. 

“Are you gonna be okay this weekend sharing the place with her?” She knows about Melissa’s little thing for you. She knows how much the redhead cares about you, and she understands how strong the other woman’s feelings are for you.

“I’ve held it together for this long, I can do it for another weekend,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “I have to. I ain’t jeopardizing our friendship.”

“But this weekend you have to share a room,” the kindergarten teacher argues.

“A bed,” Melissa coughs out awkwardly. “We’re sharing a bed. It's totally normal. Friends share beds all the time. I told her I wasn’t going to let her sleep on that ratty ass couch they have in there. But I’ll be... I’ll be fine.”

“You sure about that?” Barbara teases. 

“I’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Everything will be just... I’ll be fine.”

“Say it one more time, and I’ll believe you,” the older teacher chuckles. 

“I’ll be fine,” Melissa huffs. She takes her eyes off of you to take a sip of her drink. “I just can't get too hammered now.”

That’s what she said. But that was also four hours ago, and five drinks ago. You three are currently down at one of the parties. Barbara is speaking with a few of the handlers from different supply companies, you have had your fair share of drinks and are starting to stumble, and Melissa refuses to leave your side. She glares down pretty much anybody who even thinks about trying to talk to you.

Someone from Addington decides that they don’t give a damn about Melissa’s harsh looks and has to come over to attempt to flirt with you. You’ve made it quite clear you are having no parts of it, but he just won’t leave you alone. Melissa doesn’t like this one bit. She doesn’t intervene just yet though. She knows you are a strong independent woman who can handle this- unless you give her some sort of signal to ask for help.

“I’m really okay,” you slur out. “I don’ wan’ another. Thanks-s though.”

He just keeps trying to get you to drink another one, trying to make conversation with you even though you aren’t interested. He’s ignoring the fact that the redhead is right there with you too. You give Melissa a look that she interprets to be a plea for help. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t, but that’s how she takes it.

“Hey, asshole,” the second grade teacher finally taps his shoulder. “She said she ain’t interested, so beat it.”

“And who are you?” he looks her over. “Old, washed up-”

“I’d watch it if I were you,” Melissa glares him down. “Now get outta here, before I help you outta here.”

“Who even are you?” the charter teacher asks. 

Melissa, thinking that you are too inebriated to remember this tomorrow, bites the bullet. She wraps her arms around your waist and helps to steady you. “Her girlfriend. Now, seriously: beat it before I beat you.”

“Damn,” he puts his hands up in surrender as he walks away. “The hot ones always turn out to be gay.”

You’re intoxicated, but not because of the copious amount of tequila you’ve had tonight. No, it’s because of a certain coworker's arms being snaked around your waist and holding onto you tightly. 

“I think maybe it’s time for bed,” Melissa tells you gently as she continues to hold you up. You giggle as you lean into her, fully embracing how close you are and loving it.

“You’re- you’re warm,” you tell her. “I like that about you.”

“Well, yeah,” she laughs as she guides you towards where Barbara is sitting. “Hey, Barb. I think this one’s had enough, so I’m gonna take her up to the room and get her to bed, but I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Barb!” You try to launch yourself at the veteran teacher.

“Oh! Y/N!” the kindergarten teacher laughs. She lets you hug her, quietly mouthing, ‘Is she okay?’ to Melissa. At the redhead’s nod, she mouths, ‘Are you okay?’ to which Melissa nods again.

“Alright, sweetheart,” the second grade teacher helps pry you off of Barbara. “I think it’s about time we get up to our room and into bed.”

“Mhmm,” you hum. “As long as- as long as you stay with me.”

“I never said nothin’ ‘bout leaving,” she assures you. “Now c’mon.” 

The two of you somehow manage to get back up to the room, and at this point, Melissa is practically dragging you. She keeps one arm looped around your waist while she tries to open the door for you. It unlocks, and she pushes it open before guiding you to the bed.

“Sleep, hon,” Melissa instructs. 

“Don’ wanna sleep in this,” you gesture to the dress you’re wearing. She can’t necessarily blame you- it doesn’t look terribly comfortable.

“Okay, hon,” she sighs. She opens your duffel, blushing immediately. “Is there anything specific you want in here?”

“My t-shirt,” you mumble, already curled up on your side of the bed. She digs through your duffel bag, only to realize you forgot to pack a night shirt. Thank god she packed an extra. She quickly goes to her side of the bed and finds the spare shirt. 

She throws the shirt at you and instructs you to change, but you’re still struggling after several minutes. With a sigh, Melissa knows she’s going to have to help you change. She wishes she was undressing you, not helping you redress.

Once you’re finally changed, she helps you slip into bed and pulls the blankets up and around you. The teacher moves a few stray hairs away from your face before tracing a gentle line down your cheek with the pad of her thumb.

“Mel,” you whine when she pulls her hand away from your face. “Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” she promises you. “I’m just gonna change for bed myself, and then I’ll be right back, yeah?” You nod, and she walks into the bathroom with her own pajamas.

She takes a long time in the bathroom. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open, but you don’t want to fall asleep without her arms around you- they are safe. Secure. When she comes out, she’s shocked to see that you’re still awake.

“Hey sleepyhead,” she chuckles. “I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Waiting for you,” you try, but fail, to stifle a yawn. “C’mon.”

She climbs into bed, and you waste no time wiggling your way into her arms. You tangle

your legs together and force her to hold you as you rest your head on her shoulder.  

“You good, hon?” Melissa asks you gently, just barely daring to press a kiss to your hair.

“Wish we could do this sober,” you mumble, sleep threatening to take you. “But ‘m too nervous to say anything to you when not drunk.”

The redhead is fairly certain she’s hallucinating. Did you just admit you wished you could cuddle with her? Lay in bed with her and fall asleep in her arms?

“Well, sweetheart,” the second grade teacher sighs heavily. “Let’s just get past tonight, see what you remember tomorrow, and then we can talk.”

You nod. You’re still drunk, but you’re pretty aware of everything that is happening, and you know you’ll remember all of this tomorrow. But it’s that extra little bite that liquid courage gives you that allows you to say, “I love you, Mel,” before you tighten your grip on her and give in to sleep. 

Melissa’s eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t hesitate in saying, “I love you too, Y/N.” She presses a sweet kiss to the side of your head, and prays to God that when the two of you wake up everything is okay.

Next

[elrielsgarden]

Elain & ACOTAR 5

The next book in Sarah J. Maas's bestselling series Court of Thorns and Roses, though highly debated among the fandom, is 100% going to be Elain's. It has to be.

SJM states in a Q&A/interview transcript in the A Court of Frost and Starlight special edition: "But I do know that the Cassian and Nesta book is next. And I know what I want to write for the second spinoff, but I'm keeping the door open after that."

She also states in that same transcript: "When spring came, I was heavily pregnant-so I was really nesting-and we realized that the garden beds were pretty overgrown with ivy. There was literally ivy everywhere: in the garden beds, wrapped around the trees, crawling up the sides of the house. So I went into this obsessive, I-need-to-rip-out-every-last-strand-of-ivy-before-I-have-this-baby mode. And I remember the entire time I was ripping out the ivy, and trying to get some semblance of order into the garden beds, I just slipped into Elain's head. Elain is a gardener, and everything I did during those weeks became research for her book."

From these two remarks from SJM-within the same interview-we learn that she knows who the next book after A Court of Silver Flames will be, and she also knows she will be writing Elain's book. Therefore, the next Court of Thorns and Roses book will be Elain's.

This next ACOTAR book will be Elain's, and hers alone, in the sense that the title will revolve solely around her, just as A Court of Silver Flames does with Nesta. Of course, ACOTAR 5 will feature another POV, that of Elain's love interest.

Many people refer to ACOTAR 5 as "Azriel's book," but SJM has stated many a time what she says in a January 2024 TODAY interview: "I've always been drawn to writing women that can't be placed in any definable category." The focal point of every book SJM has written is the women, and so Elain will be the center of her book-not her love interest. This person will be Azriel.

The people who refer to "Azriel's book" are right about one thing, however. Azriel is set up in the ACOTAR series and in the most recent installment of the Crescent City series, House of Flame and Shadow. Both Azriel and Elain have been primed for their romance and future plot by SJM.

It is also crucial to point out that each of the spinoff novels are about side characters from the first three, automatically removing the possibility of "Azriel's book" having anything to do with Gwyneth Berdara, who arrived in the story in ACOSF.

Further, the title of Elain's book will revolve solely around her character, just as A Court of Silver Flames does with Nesta. Nothing about that title suggests Casein's involvement in the book, though of course he is the love interest and other POV. Elain's book, then, will follow this pattern, A Court of ________ _____, describing her character. Yes, Azriel will be the second POV, but just as with ACOSF he, the love interest and second POV, will likely not be indicated in the title.

In conclusion, the next book in the Court of Thorns and Roses series will belong to Elain Archeron, and be titled after her, and will feature Azriel as her love interest in the second spinoff novel. 🌸🦇

[acourtofthought]

"Elain draws away from Lucien because she doesn't like him and doesn't want him"

Really? An author who is notorious for hidden truths and "what you see isn't always what you get" yet some still believe she's resorting to something so simplistic for two of her future main characters? Two characters involved in Feyre's story from book 1 yet she's really gone the route of mating them in book 2 only to have them go absolutely nowhere together? To Elain ignoring her POC scarred mate because she's supposedly afraid of him though he literally does nothing but continue being as respectful as possible? Leaving her ex unharmed and not pushing her for anything?

This is the author who had Nesta push Cassian away time and again, looking to other males for physical release, only for us to find out she wanted Cassian from the first moment she met him and was terrified of what that meant.

But Elain definitely wants a relationship with Az because she was willing to kiss him and pushes Lucien away. 🤔

Wouldn't a more interesting reason for her behavior be something like this:

Elain was devastated by Graysens rejection.

She wept for hours at her father's headstone and continued to visit him at least once a month. We know she still mourned her lost life with Graysen in the novella as well.

Elain lost the two most important men in her life and it was very clearly a harrowing experience. She went from not eating, not sleeping, not drinking, and sitting silently in her room for months because of her lost humanity and separation from Graysen to Graysens rejection to the loss of her father.

And if those things felt that terrible, were that traumatic and she didn't even share a bond with either, then what do you think she'd feel if she were to open herself up to Lucien and he rejected her or he was killed?

In ACOWAR, she said that she could hear his heart, not just his heartbeat. And we know that part of what was in his heart at that moment was guilt over Jesminda's death and a feeling of betrayal towards her. .

If Graysens rejection of her stung as badly as it did, then what would a mates rejection feel like? Wondering whether she could ever compare to a female he pined for centuries after her death?

If her father's death was so painful, then what would the death of a mate feel like?

Certain parts of the fandom create a version of Elain that is so one dimensional rather than giving her credit for possibly having feelings toward Lucien that are deep and complex. That she could be dealing with the fear of opening herself up to him and is also in tune with his fears and his sadness and it's all overwhelming and scary. He's not scary but the intensity of what could be and what could then be lost is.

That maybe, just maybe, Az (for as nice as he's been towards her) was not a scary option because she knew any rejection would not cut deeply (evidenced by the fact that nobody noted her being sad after Solstice). If Elain is as observant as the characters say she is, then there's little chance she hadn't noticed the way he looked at Mor and knew on some level who his heart belonged to, though he's been starting to realize he isn't going to end up with her. Maybe Feyre was right in saying that Elain and Az might find peace and quiet together, but maybe it was never meant to last. Peace and quiet is not what legendary romances are built on. Maybe the peace and quiet was only meant to hold them over until she (and he) were ready to stop being afraid and finally face the things that scared them. Until she was finally ready to take a chance to truly opening herself up again, not just physically but emotionally.

[winniethewife]

It's undeniably real (Layla El-Faouly x The Moonknight system x Reader)

Chapter 1: Then, it's the best feeling I've even known

Words: 1282

Warning: sex mentioned not described.

Three months ago when my best friend, and childhood crush, Layla El-Faouly reached out asking if I would like to possibly be in a threesome with her and her Husband Marc I was surprised. One they never seemed the type for Non-Monogamy, and Two I was pretty sure Layla was over her Bi-curious phase a long time ago. It was a pretty amazing night. I was pretty sure I would never have sex that good again, but I was very wrong. I have sex like that all the time. About a week after that night they had invited me over again, this time, I found out a lot more. About Marc’s DID, About Steven and Jake, about Moon-knight, and their adventures around the world. I felt like I could probably take that all into stride as their friend, then came the next surprise.

They asked me out.

They wanted me to be in a relationship with them, all of them. I had felt like my heart stopped that second. It took me sometime to process it and decide.

It had been a long day at work, I had just managed to get in the door and get out of my work clothes when there was a knock at the door. I went to take a look though my peephole It was Marc. I opened the door with a half smile on my face.

“Hey, Marc. Come on in.” I smiled and gestured for him to come inside.

“Hey, I’m sorry to not call or something before coming over I...I needed to see you.” He says in his usual gruff voice. He needed to see me? This was something else.

“Oh, um Okay.” I closed the door after he walked in. “Is something wrong?”

“Look, I thought it would be a good idea if, I asked you on a date, and they Want to ask you on a date as well, Especially Jake, He and Layla, don’t exactly get along…It’s a long story.” He seemed anxious about it, about asking me out.

“Does Layla also want a date? Is this some kinda trail period? First four dates free?” I try to lighten the mood with a joke. Marc smirks and chuckles.

“Yeah, something like that. I’m sure Layla would enjoy that. Sorry…this is still new to me…to us.” He rubs the back of his neck and averts his gaze.

“And not to me.” Admittedly my last triad hadn’t ended well but I had more experience in this than they did. “Anyway you feel about it is totally normal. Its how you act on those feelings that matters.” We sat in the living room for hours after that. Talking about how he felt, talking about how the others felt, and talking about how we all felt about Layla. I put my hand on his knee at one point and he after thinking for a second put his hand on mine, and that’s when I think I knew, no matter how those first dates went, I was saying yes.

~

Now three months later I’m grocery shopping with Layla, trying to figure out what one of the boys wrote on the shared grocery list, her arm around my waist as I’m holding the list.

“I can’t read Jake’s handwriting, what the hell does this say?” She points at it.

“Horchata Mix.” I laugh

“How can you read that?”

“He leaves me little love notes, like in the book I’m reading or on my bathroom mirror. I had to figure out what they said. So I made a cipher.”

“Well Jeeze, For all the times I managed to get him to talk to me all he could do was cuss me out.” Layla chuckles. Layla and Jake had a rough start of it, when He first showed up he brought chaos into their lives again and after they had just managed to settle down again. Layla had every right to feel like she did, but Jake also had a right to live a life, and for some reason, He really liked living his life with me. Which made me think of our first “free date”

~

“Dress for dancing. Can’t wait to see you. -J” That’s all the text said. The text made me laugh. The short black dress that hugs every curve of my body, the comfortable dance heels from my days in dance class, delicate makeup, hair done nicely. I thought I did well. I was surprised when Marc and Layla had said Jake wanted to take me out first. Apparently he had practically begged. I thought they were kidding at first, until I had gotten the text from Jake. Once I was ready I checked my phone to see a text from Jake.

“Outside. –J”

I felt my heart start to race as I left the building. He was standing outside his car, a flirtatious smirk on his face, It was a little odd to see Marc’s body but know it wasn’t him, how he held himself, the way he dressed, it was all very different. I walked up to him. I looked him over for the first time, he was dressed very nice, dress pants, white button up, dark tie, and the pageboy cap pulled over his dark curls was a good touch.

“It’s good to finally meet you Hermosa. You look stunning.”  His Spanish accent was a bit of a surprise.

“Thank you Jake, It’s really nice to meet you too.” I smile and lean in to kiss his cheek, a soft chuckle leaves his lip before returning the favor.

“Tu eres muy dulce…” His Honeyed words hit my ear and a shiver goes down my back. He opened the car door for her and she sat down in the car. As we drove to the dance hall we made some simple conversation. We pull into the parking lot of the dance hall and Jake is a gentleman the whole way in, opening doors, taking my hand, ordering my drink, it was quite sweet. But I had no idea what I was in for when we hit the dance floor.

He takes one of my hands in his and his other wraps around my waist, and he gives me a warm smile. It was my turn to surprise him by knowing where to hold myself in a starting dance position, a small smirk on my face as he chuckles and we start to dance together. I feel my heart thumping in my chest as His dark brown eyes met mine, something in the quality behind them, was different then when Marc looked at me. Everything about him was sensual, every touch, every turn, every second I felt like I was dancing on air. At some point we took a break and sat down to talk.

“Where did you learn to dance Muñeca?” He asks

“I took a bunch of classes in college, and some more recently with my ex. ” I answered honestly “And you?”

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” He says with a chuckle. I laughed.

“Alright keep you’re secrets Lockley.”

“How else am I gonna keep you on your toes? Hm?” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I couldn’t help but laugh again.

~

I put the blue bag of Horchata Mix in the cart with a smile then looked up at Layla. Her coffee eyes looked at me with an affection I had learned to enjoy over the last three months. I was thankful every single second I had with them. I had learned many times over the years that love like this is rare and fleeting, I just hope this time it lasts.

~

Masterlist

Chapter 2

[cycat-carisi]

Lonesome Superhero

Pairing: Gator Tillman x f!reader (not romantic)

Summary: Gator keeps hitting on you and you finally give him a piece of your mind. He's not the sweet boy you once knew anymore - or if he is, it's far too difficult to see.

Tags: No spoilers! Angst. Post episode 1 and 2.

Warnings: language, misogynistic themes from the show

Length: ~1.3k

A/N: This just popped into my head and I needed to get it out. Gator is despicable and unless he has some major character growth, I can't bring myself to romanticize him. I do think his character is super intriguing though. I hope we get to dive deeper into what makes him tick throughout the season. (:

(Plus, I have a theory that Gator may have unintentionally been a witness to his mother's murder as a boy...)

Fic below the cut or on AO3 here

It's in the way the frosted glass door harshly swings open that immediately lets you know who is behind it. There could only be one person who felt entitled enough to barge into a retirement home like he owned the place.

You swallow thickly. Not again.

Turning around from your medicine cart, you find him standing there in his camouflage cargo pants and a black t-shirt that is two sizes too tight. His hands perch on his hips as his narrowed eyes and cocky smirk aim in your direction.

"Gator, please. Not today," you speak coldly.

His smirk only grows. "Oh, c'mon, babycakes, you don’t know what you're missin'!"

"Gator!" you scold, trying to hush your voice in front of your patients. "Come with me, please." Anger bubbles up inside of you as Gator's face contorts into a triumphant grin. He saunters forward as you lead him toward the back entrance of the small facility.

In the shadow of the building, the fall air nips at your bare arms. The chill, however, is easily quelled by your boiling blood.

"How dare you come to my place of work!" You waste no time laying into the Tillman son.

Your ferocity catches Gator off-guard, causing panic to dart across his features. He takes a half-step back, pulling his head and neck along with it.

Oh, but you’re far from done with him.

"For weeks now, you've been popping up wherever I go, asking me to go out with you in the most degrading ways possible! Every. Single. Time. I have turned you down, yet you clearly cannot take ‘no’ for an answer! And now you have the audacity to show up at where I work and do the same? No! It doesn’t work like that, Gator. I worked hard for my career. I went to college, got my license, and came back here to help my community. I am respected in this building, and I will not tolerate you waltzing in here like God's gift to women and disrespecting me in front of my patients!"

Out of breath and seething, you continue to stare Gator down. He looks downright gobsmacked – a mixture of a wounded pup about to run and a cornered hound ready to bite.

The silence is deafening. You wait for Gator to snap back like he always does – some moronic comeback that's as pathetic as his barbed wire LOL tattoo.

And predictably, he does just that. "What the hell?!!" he cries out, stepping towards you and invading your space. The pungent odor from his last puff of vape wafts off his breath. "I'm the law in this town! I'm a winner! All you ever do is humiliate me! You're fucking awful!"

"I'm awful?!" you scoff, eyebrows shooting skyward. You're about to rip him a new one when you simply stop and shake your head in pity. "What happened to you, Gator?"

Once again, the Tillman son is rendered speechless. His dark brow pinches together in confusion. "Wha-?"

You seize your opportunity to dive a little deeper. "I mean, what happened to the Gator from middle school? The one who used to be my friend? The boy who was sweet and kind and would spend lunch hours reading comic books with me. It's like you suddenly woke up one day and decided to become an asshole, always acting out in class and purposely bullying other kids. Doing reckless shit because your dad could get you out of trouble. And now? I think you've gotten worse! Hell, Mrs. Lakeland told me that you all but pushed Gladys Baker out of the way at the corner store the other day. What the heck is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?"

"I - I -" he stammers, head spinning. Then Gator swallows, puffing up his chest. "I take what's mine! I take what I'm owed. I made it through police training. People in this town owe me their respect, so I take it as I see fit."

"Newsflash! That's not how you get respect, sunshine," you retort. "Respect is earned, and from where I'm standing, all I see is a pathetic man-child whose daddy got him where he is today. 'My father is the sheriff' are the magic words that force people to step out of your way. That's not respect; that's notoriety from being a grade-A asshole!"

Gator's face twists into a snarl while his fists clench and unclench at his sides. You've clearly hit a nerve.

Even though you’d love nothing more than to lay into him some more, you remind yourself that it’s notworth the fight. Instead, your chest constricts with disappointment. "I don’t get it, Gator,” you speak softly. “Why do you let your father run your life? He says to jump and you ask how high. When are you gonna wake up and realize that he's just using you?"

If it wasn’t clear that you’d struck a nerve before, it certainly is now. Gator’s combat boot strikes the gravel, sending up a cloud of dust and dirt, and his cheeks glaze over with a deep red flush. "I don’t – He doesn’t –" Lost for words, Gator simply clamps his jaw shut. He kicks at the ground again and throws his hands to his hair, letting out a frustrated yell.

You hop back in surprise; a fearful gasp escapes you at his sudden outburst.

Gator's head whips back up, and those dark eyes meet yours.

Middle school was a long time ago, yet Gator remembers everything. He remembers how nice you were to him; how one day you saw this quiet boy sitting alone at lunch with a comic book and decided to come over and ask what he was reading. He used to dream of being as invincible as the superheroes in his books – Gator's way of shielding himself from everything that he'd seen. But then you came along and somehow made him feel a little less alone. He adored you and your friendship, eventually developing a little crush. That was, of course, before Gator was taught that girls weren't supposed to like comics, that men lead while women follow, and that his father's word was absolute. If he pleased his father, any situation could go Gator's way. The power sought after by characters in his comic books was right at Gator's fingertips; all he had to do was prove to the senior Tillman that he was worthy. Nothing else mattered.

And now? Gator almost had it. He was so close to having his father's approval. He was certain of it! Why couldn't you see that? Why couldn't you see how awesome he had become? He had buried his crush on you away while you were at college, but now that you were back, there was no reason to hide that he wanted you. And there should be no reason why you wouldn't want him either!

Except…your words today hurt. They made Gator feel puny and pathetic. How could you say that he was just his father's pawn?! He was his own man! A tough and strong and important man in this town...right?

You watch as despair briefly flashes across Gator's face before quickly being replaced by aggravation. He grunts again prior to spinning on his heels and stalking off.

No! Gator is his own man, and you were just the type of woman his father had warned him about! His crush is stupid, and so are you...

As Gator storms off, his ears catch your quiet words laced with pity. "Silly me for thinking that the sweet guy who read comics with me would still be in there.”

For the first time since he was a boy, tears stab at Gator's eyes. He scrunches his eyes closed and shakes his head, instead focusing on the sound of gravel crunching under his boots as he slinks away.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is loved ❤

| Series masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

[gh0stsp1d3r]

wait imagine tangerine with a reader who constantly brings stray animals home

Room for one more?

@kpopgirlbtssvt

Tangerine sighed, sitting down in the booth of the restaurant his brother had insisted on eating at. They just finished a mission, and he was tired. He ran a hand through his hair, and buttoned his shirt back up in attempt to look as neat as possible so they didn’t call the cops on them. Because last time they went somewhere, the cops had been called and it was a close call.

Quite honestly, he liked the quiet. He luckily had a book he hadn’t read yet in the car so he brought it in with him. Lemon was up and ordering the food.

He got comfortable, and started to read. He was happy he didn’t have to deal with the noise of a cat or dog scratching at the shower.

You loved to bring in stray animals constantly. He didn’t understand it. Like if you wanted a pet so bad just ask and he’ll be more than happy to get one.

But you constantly insisted on bringing them in for a minute or two. And you fed them, gave them a bath if they were dirty, and gave them some water and then let them go again.

It was sweet, it was. But it could get annoying. You were always getting scratched and bit. He wonders how you’ve never gotten rabies.

So even if he didn’t understand it, he dealt with it. And dealing with it included him helping you. He didn’t mind, and you had made sure to communicate with him before.

He found it cute how you held them and cared for them when no one else would.

Lemon sighed as he sat down with the tray, he put it on the table.

“Got you a milkshake. You seem pissed.”

“Shut up.”

“Whatcha readin’?”

“A book.”

Lemon rolled his eyes, and began to eat while ignoring him.

“Bro, you gonna drink that?”

“Does it look like I am?”

“I will take that as a no.” He took the milkshake and started drinking it himself.

Tangerine rolled his eyes, and continued reading.

Once he paid, they both left.

“You good?”

“I’m fine.” Was all tangerine said. He started up the car and started to drive.

He just wanted to get home already.

He dropped lemon off and drove straight towards your guys house.

He silently unlocked the door, he opened it up slowly so that just in case you were sleeping on the couch he didn’t wake you. He took off his shoes.

You were awake in your bed, reading a book.

He entered the room, and saw you. You looked up from the book and smiled at him tiredly.

“Hi, love.” You said, putting a bookmark in and putting it on the nightstand. Tangerine smiled back, and walked next to you. He kissed you on the forehead.

He began to get undressed, and comfortable. Then he laid down next to you. He put his arms around you.

“How was work today?”

“Shitty.” He mumbled, His breath hot against your neck.

“That sucks. ‘M sorry.” You said back.

“It’s alright, how was your day?”

“It was alright. Work was boring for me. But I found a dog earlier.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… he won’t leave.”

“Wait, so, he’s still here?”

You opened your mouth to speak when you both heard something walking into the room. You both turned your heads to the door, and his arms were no longer around you.

The small dog jumped onto your guys bed, and walked onto tangerine, he licked his face and he groaned in disgust.

“Can we keep him? Please? We have the room.” You begged. And he had to admit, even though he couldn’t see the dog that well he was still cute.

Tangerine thought for a moment. Stayed silent as the dog found a spot In between you guys.

“Alright.” He sighed.

How could he deny two adorable things right in front of their faces?