#god knows i should be sleeping and not setting up a blog

[ah-nakin]

I don't actually need a sideblog for anything, I guess I'm just here for the vibes for the now :')

[hellishjoel]

reborn

1.4k / pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

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summary: Joel’s long hair is a testament to a long life in Jackson, Wyoming. He hasn’t had time to get it cut since the birth of his daughter. 

warnings/information:  joel’s long hair appreciation post!!!!!, fluff, established relationship, a little swearing, soft!joel, girl dad!joel, jackson!joel, mother f!reader, ellie and joel are just fine okay!!, obvious maria appreciation, reader doesn’t have a physical appearance but has given birth

A/N: this is super short and I wrote it in 24 hours - you all know why we’re here, we saw that new picture of long haired joel miller and yadayadayada now we’re here! graphics by @saradika-graphics

There’s a new baby in Jackson. 

One more teeny tiny resident. The population sign must be repainted to acknowledge its three hundred and fifth resident. 

And she’s your little girl. 

She’s not just perfect, she’s the center of your universe. Wrapped in a freshly hand-washed baby pink blanket, a testament to the hours of labor in Jackson’s makeshift delivery room. Joel held your hand throughout. 

This was his second child, but his first with you. The flood of emotions was overwhelming, and you promised to stand by him, even if you could never truly understand the pain tangled with newfound joy. 

But you should have seen the way his eyes softened at the first sight of her. Everything changed, for the both of you. His once-buried fatherly instincts took over, walking with the delivery nurse from your bed to the small cleaning station. He couldn’t let her out of his sight.

Already so protective and wound around her little finger from the moment she took her first breath and wailed her first cry. 

Scream it, little one, tell the world you’re here and that you’re ours. You are already so loved with your big glowing eyes and round cheeks, your small hands curled into your chest, and you kick your tiny little feet. Stomp, roar, live. 

You’re born into the most dangerous time in history, but your parents are here to protect you. The moment your baby girl was born, you and Joel were reborn. 

One month old, and nothing has changed. Except for your and Joel’s sleep schedules. Tommy gave Joel temporary leave from patrol duties, which Joel did not protest. He found it impossible some days to leave the house for food and supplies. 

Ellie was helpful. Despite no blood relation, she and Joel shared many qualities. She didn’t let you lift a finger if she could help it. She had moved into the garage a few months back. After all, she was a teenager who loved having space.

“You sure you don’t just wanna move back inside the house, Ellie?” She was here more often than not, and her company and help were dearly appreciated.

“And wake up to a crying baby twelve times in the middle of the night? I love you guys, but no thanks,” she teased as you playfully rolled your eyes. 

“That’s fair. But the offer still stands.”

Ellie shrugs nonchalantly and lands beside you on the couch, laying her head on your shoulder as you both stare lovingly down at the baby sleeping soundly in your arms. 

“I know, but you should make my old room the baby’s new one. Besides, Joel just set up my stereo, and I blast that thing non-stop. No baby is gonna like that.” 

“Oh, trust me, we know.” You whisper as you kiss the top of her head, your cheek nudging against her brunette tresses tied back into a ponytail.

Ellie cooks some sort of monstrosity in the kitchen upon Joel’s return from Tommy and Maria’s. He holds piles of Maria’s hand-sewn diapers and onesies. She was a God send, a woman you consider a Jill of all trades. 

Oh, Maria. She always desired that Jackson would not fall into turmoil like most of the country had surely found its way to. In her eyes, Jackson would remain a thriving and welcoming community to those who were good of heart. 

That woman worked to the bone to ensure that Jackson’s residents were safe and happy. Living here was like living in a snow globe, safe from the outside world and protected from danger. 

As the de facto leader of the Jackson settlement, she wore many hats. From trading and supplies to security and community welfare, Maria made it her mission to ensure that all new families found their new home in Jackson to be an inviting one—a safe haven from their old lives and here to start anew. 

“Maria bartered for new cotton,” Joel whispers as he enters the living room, quiet so as not to stir the baby. 

“She did?” You ask softly, sitting up slightly as you feel his hand cup your cheek from above, tilting your head back so he can give you a proper kiss. 

“Yeah, she was gonna try and find somethin’ alternative to cotton for the diapers, but they set her up with some scavenged materials and clothing to make lots of diapers out of. Plus, gave her some stuff to cultivate it here. Y’know, be self-sufficient.” 

“Wow,” you mutter tiredly, rubbing at your eyes as your daughter begins to twitch in your arms. “I think she hears her daddy’s voice.” 

Joel cooes softly, quick to drop the items off on the kitchen counter with haphazard abandon. He grunts quietly as his knees scream for rest until he sits beside you on the couch with open palms. You delicately hand him the baby, and his eyes twinkle at the sight of her. He was adorably cute when he baby-babbled, though he swears he never does. 

“Hi sweet wittle girl, pretty pwincess, did you have a good day with mommy?” 

It takes you this long to realize how much his hair has grown out. Your fingers softly weave into the greying curls, twirling one around your finger before you let it fall into its natural waves. 

“It’s so long, baby,” you whisper like honey.

He lets out a quiet chuckle and absentmindedly leans into your touch. “I’know. Haven’t had time to get it cut,” he turns his attention back to the little girl swaddled in his arms, “and I think I know who’s been keepin’ me so damn busy.” 

You hum and gently clutch the curls at the nape of his neck, truly in awe of how long they were. You’ve never seen him let it get this long. As Joel would say, this is Tommy long. But was there really a look he couldn’t pull off?

“I, uh, I don’t want you to cut it.” Your words come off shy and sweet, making him melt as he slowly turns to look at you with a raised brow. 

“Is that so?” His southern twang rolls freely off his tongue. 

“Mhm, you look so handsome. I think I would cry if you got rid of that thick mane of yours.” 

He chuckles again, a low and sultry one. “Alright. I’ll keep puttin’ up with it.”

“Mmm, please do. It’s sorta doin’ somethin’ for me.” 

Joel pauses and watches as the aging sunlight shines over your face. He takes your hand in his large calloused one and squeezes, circling his thumb along your wrist. “You’ve given me a life I sometimes don’t feel like I deserve. A happy one. I don’t think there’s a way I can ever say thank you or I love you enough for how my life has turned out. Without you, I might be dead.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whisper as you rest your forehead against his own, both of your eyes falling closed. “You are deserving of every moment of happiness in this life. You make my life worth living. You saved us.” 

Joel lets out a wet chuckle, kissing the tip of your nose before meeting your lips delicately. 

In this light, the amber glow of the sun setting just beyond the walls outside, he’s so handsome. It truly makes your heart skip a beat. After all these years of pain, loss, and suffering, Joel is happy. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to make him. 

During the first few weeks in this new and unfamiliar settlement, Joel would shoot up in the middle of the night, upset that he had fallen asleep. He hadn’t slept in a home with four solid walls in so long, none of you had. You remember the first night he slept soundly, snoring like a madman and nuzzling into his pillow. He was safe. There were no clickers in waiting, no scavengers to fend off. His people were protected. He could breathe. 

Never did you once think that at the ends of the world, there would be room for you to feel like this. Reborn. It led you to Joel and Ellie and continued with your baby girl. Your lives are getting a second chance. 

You didn’t know how long it would stay like this because nothing was forever. But you would wake up tomorrow morning and run a hand through Joel’s hair, through the pretty curls that tickled his neck, and the opportunity for it to keep growing would be another sign that your lives weren’t ending. They were only just beginning.

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[poetlus]

“SIBLING RIVALRY” — katsuki bakugo & sibling!reader

SYNOPSIS: after being away from home, katsuki comes back for winter break. he reunites with his sibling, y/n, who’s missed him. when he realizes how bad him leaving affected y/n, he makes a proposal.

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

A/N: requested!! i wish i could find the blog to tag them, but i lost it :( im so sorry. hopefully u see this requester, cus i really enjoyed writing it!! proofread by @sepptember & @lemkay-luminary :)

“Mom, when is Katsuki coming back?” You asked as you took a nibble of the snack in your hand. You’re both on the couch, sitting arms length apart.

“It should be some time tomorrow, what with New Year’s and all. If that kid doesn’t come to see us for the holiday, I swear he’s gonna get it the next time I see him.” You giggled at your mom’s response, making her laugh too.

“I miss him, ma.” You say as you bring your knees to your chest.

“Me too. Miss that kid like crazy.” She brings you closer to her, rubbing your back.

“He’s, like, my inspiration, y’know. I wanna be a hero just like him.”

“Meh, maybe without all the yelling? He’s gonna give civilians a serious headache if he doesn’t cut that out.” You giggled again, this time in agreement with your mom. You leaned your head on your mothers shoulder, her pajama shirt acting as a pillow. You yawned, thinking about your childhood with Katsuki. It was always filled with laughter and banter. You hoped nothing would change when he came back, although it was very likely that things would. After all, you're both getting older, you’re both maturing. Change was inevitable. After almost drifting off to sleep multiple times, you finally decided it was time for bed.

When you woke up the next morning, it was a little after 7am. You didn’t expect to wake up this early, but you figured it was just your body’s way of telling you that you were excited to see your brother.

You got up and started your morning routine. You took a shower, made some breakfast, and then scrolled on your phone until about 9.

Then, you heard your front door open.

“Katsuki!” You heard your parents exclaim. You shot up from your bed and raced down the hall, nearly slipping on a carpet and crashing into the corner of a wall.

“Holy crap, it’s really you!” You shouted when your eyes fell on your brother. You ran up to him and acted like you were going in for a hug. Right before you made contact with him, you smacked his arm. Hard.

“Why haven’t you been responding to my texts?! Is it that busy at UA? Surely you have some time to respond, so why is it that I’m constantly on delivered?? You think you’re too good to text me back, now that you’re almost a pro-hero? Is that it?!” You barked.

“Quit hounding me, will ya?!” Your brother shouted back, smacking your arm back. You jumped back and rubbed the tender spot.

“Hey! That hurt, you ass!”

“Yeah?! Good! I wouldn’t have smacked you if you didn’t hit me first!”

“Well I wouldn’t have smacked you if you had just responded to my texts!”

Your sibling banter went on for another minute, your mom finally tearing the two of you apart.

“God dammit, you kids are no different than when Katsuki was living here! Can’t you just get along?!” The two of you glared at your mom, who was glaring right back— as if she was daring one of you to say something.

“We missed you, Katsuki.” Your dad said from the kitchen, breaking the semi-awkward silence.

“Missed you too, dad.” Bakugo grumbled. He then pushed past you and went to his room, you followed him.

Once you reached his room, you leaned against the doorframe as he set his bag down.

“You still haven’t answered me.”

“Listen, I’ve just been caught up in hero work, okay? I’m not meaning to ignore you. I always am thinking about you, mom, and dad. You know that— don’t be dumb.” Another awkward quietness fell over the room.

“How’s it here without me?” He asked you.

“It’s really quiet. Kinda unnerving, not gonna lie. It’s like…too quiet. How’s it at UA?”

“It’s good. The dorms are good. The guy I have a room next to is like, my friend or whatever. How’s school?”

“Ooh, a friend? What’s his name? Is he cute?”

“His names Kirishima, and no. He has the weirdest hair I’ve ever seen.”

“Do you have a picture?”

“No. Shut up.”

“Ugh, you suck. Have you met any real pros?”

“Duh, a bunch. My teachers Erasurehead— I’ve even met All Might.”

“Woah, no way! How’s that?? Is he as cool in person?!”

“Hell yeah he is.” Bakugo smirked. “You never answered my question.” He looked up at you from his spot on the bed.

“What question?”

“How’s school?” His brow furrowed, as if he felt like he was being tricked.

“Oh,” You huffed slightly. “It’s okay. Boring.”

“Yeah? You make any friends at least?”

“Um.. yeah I guess.”

“You guess? Whatdya mean you guess?”

“I dunno..” You looked like you were going to keep talking, but you stopped yourself.

“Gettin’ good grades?” Katsuki changed the subject. “Ya can’t get into UA without good grades.”

“Mhm,” Katsuki sighed.

“What’s with the dry responses, assface? You were so bubbly just now when we were talking about me.” he, clearly frustrated with your change in demeanor.

“It’s nothing, dickwad,” You returned his energy back, but then quieted down again. “I just feel like we aren’t as close anymore. Ever since you got into UA, you’ve changed so much. You’re a lot more…serious. Not like when you were living here. And now, especially when you’re in the dorms, we’re even further from you. It’s like you’re gettin’ to be a stranger.” You quickly realized how much you confessed and stiffened up.

“But— but forget about it! I don’t care that much anyways.” You turned around and began to walk out of Katsuki’s room, the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks warming quicker than you expected.

As you stepped foot out of your brother’s room, you heard his voice.

“Hey, come back!” You stopped and turned around. “What makes you say that, huh? I’m not a stranger, I’m your brother. I’m always gonna be with you.”

“What makes me say that is the fact that you left me here. I don’t have anybody to talk to when I don’t want to talk to mom or dad. I’m alone, Katsuki.”

Your brother sighed and motioned you to come sit beside him on his bed. When you did, he wrapped an arm around you to bring you closer to him.

“I know I left you. You think I don’t feel bad about that?” You were quiet as tears began to blur your vision. “I think about you every day. I really do mean it when I say I’m too busy to respond, but I am thinking about you. The whole reason I left is because I’m thinking about you. Saving you, protecting you, being your hero.” A tear formed in your eye and fell onto your leg.

“Quit cryin, you big loser.” He took his arm off of you and playfully bumped your shoulder.

“I love you Katsuki.” You said as you wiped your tears and sniffled.

“I love you too, kid.” your brother’s words were soft spoken and gentle. “I’ll make you a deal.” You perked up in confusion, the tears from before quickly drying up.

“If you promise— and I mean cross your heart— that you won’t embarrass me in front of my friends, I’ll talk to Mr. Aizawa about bringing you to UA for a day. You can babysit Eri or something.”

“What?! You mean it?!” You gasped lightly.

“Only if you promise!” He shouted.

“I promise, I promise! Cross my heart!” You yelled back, gesturing to the right side of your chest.

“Alright.”

The two of you spent the rest of the day with your parents, eating a delicious home cooked meal and spending quality time together. Once it got dark, the four of you all retreated to your rooms after a long day. You were watching a movie when you heard a knock on your door.

“Y/N,” Katsuki’s muffled voice said.

“What?” You called from the other side of the door.

“Can I stay the night in here?” He opened it, revealing him in his black band tee and plaid pajama pants. You smiled.

“Sure, but I’m not giving up my bed. You can sleep on the floor.” He huffed, unsatisfied with your answer.

“But your bed’s so comfortable! You got the memory foam mattress!” He whined.

“Too bad, so sad. Take it or leave it, stupid.” Katsuki sighed and walked towards you, flopping onto your bed anyways.

“No! Katsuki, get off!” You shouted as you realized what was happening too late. You attempted to push him off of your bed, but to no avail. He was staying on that damned bed whether you liked it or not.

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Three

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART TWO

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Certain thoughts and feelings are starting to arise in Wanda whenver she looks at you (god forbid she touches you). Despite these feelings, Wanda has no idea how to shift the dynamic. Resigned, Wanda knows she needs to ask for help and the advice she gets is probably going to land her in another bizzare plan.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: another wacky plan that probably is gonna get Wanda in trouble LOL

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~3.8k

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Wanda lays with her arm behind her head, staring at the ceiling while she waits for you to finish in the bathroom. 

This was an opportunity, wasn't it?

Alone at night, in one bed, in close proximity—this would be the perfect opportunity for Wanda to make a move, isn't it? The perfect opportunity to create some sexual tension so that you'd look at Wanda differently. 

So...so, should she—Wanda gulps—cuddle you?

You and Wanda have cuddled many times in the past. It was nice to have someone to snuggle up to when watching a movie; the habit slid right into place so easily. 

But those times had been innocent. Wanda hadn't been thinking anything about it other than how comforting it was. 

Now—Wanda's thinking about other things. Touching would be exciting—exhilarating, even. 

Yet, the more Wanda thinks about it, the more rigid she becomes. 

Should she...should she just try to wrap her arms around you like usual? Or should she try to get a little frisky and "accidentally" let her fingers trail underneath your shirt?

Wanda blushes so hard, rolling over completely, and pushes her face into her pillow. She screws her eyes shut. 

God, she wanted to scream. 

"Are you trying to suffocate yourself to go to sleep?"

The sudden voice makes Wanda turn over. You enter the room with a tiny smile on your lips as you toss your worn clothes onto a chair in the corner. Your PJs consist of a worn-in oversized t-shirt and shorts, though Wanda knows the shorts are mostly for her sake as you prefer to sleep without them. 

Oh, if you only knew Wanda had absolutely no qualms about you sleeping without them. In fact, to be generous, Wanda could insist you sleep without your shirt, too. 

Wanda takes a deep breath, trying to will the blood in her cheeks to leave. Her head is slightly dizzy from the thoughts.  

"You know how I am if I wake up in the middle of the night," Wanda sits up and replies wryly, clearing her throat as it's suddenly dry. 

You grab a water bottle from your desk, opening it to take a sip before you close it and toss it towards her. Wanda catches it, opening it immediately to take a gulp of water. She stares at you as you apply chapstick to your lips for the night before you shut off the lights and make your way toward the bed. 

In the dark, Wanda feels her heart start to race with anticipation. The bed dips, and Wanda takes a shaky breath as she closes the water bottle and sets it aside. She lays back, staring at the ceiling, hearing your soft sigh of contentment of finally being in bed. 

You're lying on your side facing Wanda, but when she turns her head to the side, your eyes are closed as you breathe steadily, trying to fall asleep.

Wanda swallows. She wants things to change so badly. Wanda wants you to look at her differently, to notice that as the blueprint to your type, you could just have the original—if that was what this is all about.

So, Wanda turns on her side, blood pumping in her ears, making it nearly impossible to hear anything as she shuffles closer to you. You've only been on one date with Raye, and it didn't even end with sex. It's not cheating, Wanda tells herself. It's really not. 

When Wanda's face to face with you, her limbs almost feel numb. She wants to do something, but she doesn't even know what. The more she thinks about being bold, the shyer she's getting. 

Wanda's starting to chicken out. 

Wanda's hand pauses right in the middle of the space between you two. 

This is so stupid, Wanda thinks. She's never going to be more to you than just a friend. You're never going to think about her the way she thinks about you. You—

Fingers slide between hers, grasping her hand flat against the bed. 

"Do you remember the first time we had a sleepover?" Your voice carries through the quiet of the night, somehow gentle but crisp as it makes its way to Wanda's ears. 

"You mean when I cried because I'd never slept anywhere other than at home and was scared of the dark?" Wanda replies wryly. 

Those days were long gone, and right now, she's grateful the dark can hide her red cheeks. 

You laugh. "Yeah, but then you still didn't want to leave and made me hold your hand the entire night."

Wanda groans, caught between wanting to pull her hand away in embarrassment but liking the feel of your hand too much.

"I remember holding your hand so seriously because I couldn't let my best friend be so sad, especially after she wanted to stay despite crying," you chuckle quieter this time. "I kind of miss those days; they were simpler."

"What do you mean?" Wanda feels you stroking the back of her hand with your index finger in a small line.

"Back then, you used to cry about the dark and scraped knees, and I could make it better by just holding your hand. Now, you cry about boys breaking your heart and homesickness, and you're still sad after I hold your hand," You sigh like it's your fault.

"I'm not sad," Wanda insists, a whine in her tone. 

"That's why you crawled into my bed at midnight?" Even though Wanda can't see, she can tell you have your brow raised. 

"Maybe I just want you to hold me," Wanda bravely says. Her heart is doing that thing again, and she thinks she might actually be entering into cardiac arrest. The cowardly part of her backs out and softens the statement. "Maybe at 14, hand-holding was enough to solve the dark and scraped knees, but as adults, we need something else."

It's quiet, and for a second, Wanda thinks she might've made a terrible decision and wants to burst out crying. Her words are caught in her throat, and her breathing feels shallow. Even though she doesn't really want to, she's about to tell you she's just joking, but you move closer.

It's slow as if you're trying to be careful not to make the wrong move, like accidentally kneeing her in the crotch. You move like you're trying to make sure everything slots together perfectly. 

The hand-holding is gone with her arms over your waist, and yours are over hers. Your hand settles loosely against her back, the warmth of your palm seeping through her shirt. Her face is pressed against your chest, and the embrace is warm. 

Wanda doesn't know what to feel; it's too much at once. She feels warm, nervous, horny, content, and mostly dizzy. 

"So, you admit you are sad," you joke quietly in the dark. "I knew it, you lying brat."

Despite the dizziness, Wanda gumbles, "I'm not sad, you stinky accuser."

"So, you don't feel better then?"

There's a moment of silence again. Wanda doesn't know how to quite articulate how she's feeling. She is better, she supposes. But she also feels crazier. 

"Yeah, this is better," Wanda manages to say. "14-year-old us wouldn't even be able to wrap our heads around this."

Your chest rises and falls in quick succession with laughter. "Oh my god, shut up and sleep."

Wanda mutters something, but it's completely unintelligible. Time passes too quickly, and Wanda slowly starts falling asleep again. 

It's not quite the sexual tension she hoped for, but this was just as good. 

"Just a heads up, I expect to be the little spoon at some point. Return the favor, brat."

Wanda smiles. No, this was perfect.

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Wanda takes a deep breath, letting her eyes flutter close momentarily. 

She knows she can't delay this anymore. Wanda's hit a wall in her progress, and she needs to admit that she doesn't know what she's doing anymore—not that she really knew what she was doing in the first place.

This was going to change everything—somehow make it more real. The thought of it makes Wanda somewhat glum, but she resigns herself before she takes another breath and rings the doorbell. 

Wanda hears footsteps approaching the door before it opens, and Natasha stands there with an iced coffee in her hand. 

"Oh, Wanda," she blinks in surprise, "I didn't expect to see you."

"Really?" Wanda asks dryly. "Even after you texted me that you were bored with nothing to do today 6 times in a row this morning?"

"Yes, and like the terrible friend you are, you were pointedly ignoring it," Natasha raises her brow at Wanda.

"I wasn't ignoring it," Wanda denies. "I'm here, aren't I?"

Natasha snorts but then opens her door wider, stepping to the side to let Wanda in. Once inside, they make their way to the kitchen, and Natasha begins fixing Wanda a cup of cold brew.

"Want anything in it?"

"Do you have oat milk?"

Natasha hums absently, but Wanda knows the redhead heard her. As her drink is being made, Wanda taps her fingers against the counter, feeling the nerves thrum against her veins. She's unsure how to bring it up but doesn't want to beat around the bush. There's a time crunch, and Wanda can't afford to waste any more time. 

"Natasha," Wanda says just as Natasha sets her cup down. "I'm in love with—"

"Bug?" Natasha cuts in. "Yeah, I know."

Wanda's jaw drops. "What?" She says before she slumps in her seat. "Is it because of our phone call a couple of weeks ago, or did you suspect all along?"

"No, I mean, kind of yes," Natasha scrunches her nose. "I don't know if I would say I suspected all along. You've always been close to Bug, but she was always quick to correct anyone back then that you were just friends, and to be fair, nothing happened. I think soulmates can exist as friends too." 

Wanda purses her lips but nods, and Natasha gives her a smile.

"But," Natasha interjects. "I did start to suspect after our phone call. I mean, you and Bug do everything together, so honestly, I wasn't that shocked if you both wanted to get married at the same time and live in houses next to each other. I think it was more the fact of how upset you got."

"Yeah," Wanda sighs, rubbing her temples.

"But mostly, I knew because Yelena told me."

"What!?" Wanda squawks. "She wasn't supposed to tell anyone!"

"I'm not anyone," Natasha sticks her tongue out. "I'm her sister. We gossip almost daily."

"Ugh, did she tell you—"

"How you took her on the worst date of her life and stalked Bug and Raye? Yeah," Natasha looks sympathetic. "I'm glad you went home instead of waiting outside while they did it."

"They didn't do it!" Wanda jumps up in her seat. "Apparently Raye got hung up on a phone call, so it didn't happen and she came home."

"Oh, really?" Natasha's brow scrunches together. "Raye—"

"What?" Wanda interjects. "Is Raye saying they slept together? What a dirty liar—"

"God, no—" Natasha rolls her eyes. "Calm the fuck down, jeez. Raye didn't say they did, but she didn't say they didn't either. Unfortunately, you won't be able to use that as an excuse to break them up."

Wanda groans, slumping back into her chair again. She reaches for her cold brew and sips at it dejectedly. 

"So, spill," Natasha prods. "After all these years, why did you suddenly get a change in feelings? Is that why you ended things with Vision on Yelena's birthday?"

"I don't know if it's sudden," Wanda mumbles but launches into a long monologue of everything that's happened since Stupid Steve dropped the information bomb on her and every single thought that accompanied each event.  

45 long minutes pass before Wanda finishes with how she's been more cuddly the last week but is having trouble moving past that. 

"Have you managed to create any sexual tension?"

"No," Wanda sighs frustratedly. "I don't know what to do! In our years of friendship, I've changed in front of her before and worn sexy outfits, and we already have physical affection between us. Nothing has ever happened and it was never weird. I don't know how to change things!"

"Why don't you just confess to her?" Natasha asks with a tilt of her head.

Wanda scoffs as if that's the most ridiculous thing she's ever heard. "Because she only sees me as a friend, so I can't confess until she sees me as a potential partner. It will clearly boost the odds of my confession being accepted, duh."

"Right," Natasha replies dryly. 

"So?" Wanda taps her nails on the counter impatiently. "Do you have any advice or should I ask Yelena?"

"As if," Natasha snorts. "Yelena's idea of flirting is bullying. It's a miracle that Kate hasn't tried to cancel her on social media. I highly doubt Yelena's method will work for you."

"So, what should I do?" Wanda laments. 

Natasha hums. "I guess it's true you've been friends so long that normal things other people would do wouldn't work for you. She has seen you in so many sexy clubbing outfits and hasn't done anything, and unless you start groping her private bits, I don't think physical touch will spark anything new."

"This is great advice," Wanda says sarcastically.

"But do you know how to make those things work?" Natasha asks, rolling her eyes at Wanda's tone. "You need to make her aware that you could potentially be hers."

"I've literally just said—"

"Right now, you're just her best friend that's probably going to end up dating another guy. And as long as she thinks that, those things will never work because in her brain, she can only see you as a friend," Natasha cuts Wanda off. 

"Okay, so..." Wanda drags out so that Natasha will continue on. This was making sense and leading somewhere!

"So, there's two new things you need to add to your relationship," Natasha pauses. "Awareness and jealousy—and not the jealousy like 6 years ago when you thought that exchange student was replacing you as her best friend."

"In my defense, Shuri was trying to," Wanda gripes.

"You know what you need to do?" Natasha ignores Wanda's comment. 

"What?" Wanda asks warily because Natasha has that smile on her face. And when she gets that smile, something crazy is about to come out of her mouth.

"Tony and Pepper's 10-year anniversary party is next Saturday, right? You need to bring a date. A girl date," Natasha grins. 

"But I don't want to date other girls," Wanda groans. "Plus, how am I supposed to get a girl to go on a date with me if I need to tell her it's actually to make someone else jealous. That's literally terrible to hide."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Natasha waves her hand nonchalantly. "I have a coworker who can help. She owes me one, so she'll do it without actually expecting anything."

Wanda is in disbelief. 

Natasha then perks up. "Actually, this is perfect because to really open up Bug's eyes, the person you go on a date with should be similar to her. Then, she'll think about how she could be dating you. This coworker is perfect for it; she's nice, if a little sarcastic, and has similar humor."

"Is she hot?" Wanda asks.

"Yeah, of course she is. I can't set you up with an uggo. That would never make her jealous."

"And she's into girls?"

"Yeah, she's single right now, though."

Wanda's eye twitches. 

"What?"

Wanda tries to take a calming breath before nearly yelling, "Why didn't you set up Raye with your other coworker then!?"

"How the hell was I supposed to know you'd fallen for her at that point?" Natasha winces.

It's a fair point, a completely valid one to make, but Wanda still holds a grudge against Nat for putting Raye in your path. 

"Also, why does your company have so many sad, single coworkers? I mean, I guess you're also single—"

"Don't get mean, or else I won't help you go shopping for a dress."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Another few days pass, and Wanda finds herself taking deep breaths to give herself courage again. 

Natasha just texted her that the coworker, Darcy, confirmed she was available, and everything was set. 

So now, Wanda just has to work up the nerve to tell you she has a date for Tony and Pepper's party. A girl date. 

"So," Wanda's voice is slightly shaky. The two of you are eating dinner while watching some trashy reality TV show that Wanda can't even focus on right now. Wanda wishes she hadn't said anything because now she doesn't know what else to say. "Are you, uh, excited for Tony and Pepper's party?"

You don't take your eyes off the TV, completely invested in what is happening even though you never watch reality TV on your own. 

"Yeah," you answer. "Raye will be back in town, and I'm bringing her along."

Wanda chokes on the potato that's just starting to slide down her throat. You turn over to look at her with concern as she grabs her drink. 

"You okay?" 

"Wrong pipe," Wanda gasps as she clears her throat. "What were you saying? Raye's coming with you?"

You smile, "Yeah, she's back in town later this week, but my photoshoots conflict with her schedule until the party."

"Awesome," Wanda grits out through her teeth with a forced smile. Suddenly, all that missing courage builds up in Wanda, along with pettiness. "That brings me to the fact I wanted to tell you I have a date to the party too."

"Oh?" You pause the TV, fully accepting that neither of you is watching it now with the conversation at hand. "Who's the lucky lad?"

Wanda actually hesitates. A part of her is nervous to tell you, even though she knows you'd never think of her differently or judge her. She sometimes wonders what's going on in her brain because if Wanda actually got with you, it would inevitably mean you'd know she was into girls. 

Or was she just into you?

Now was so not the time to be trying to figure this out, Wanda swallows. 

"Uh," Wanda starts, feeling a little sweaty. "It's actually with a girl. Natasha is introducing me to someone."

There's silence for a moment, and Wanda's gripping her plate of food so hard, even if she's trying to pretend she's not. In an attempt to take the pressure off herself, she stares pointedly down at her plate. 

Wanda's heart still feels like it will leap out of her chest and run to her bedroom to hide under her pillow.

"You're into girls?" You finally say after a long moment of silence.

"I think so," Wanda mumbles weakly. Well, she was definitely for sure into you. "I think I've always been but never really given it too much thought since I was dating Vis for a long time." AKA, Wanda's always been into you but never realized until recently. 

"So...now that it's really over between you and Vis, you want to try dating girls?" Your tone is careful, and Wanda wishes she could dive straight into your brain to find out what you were thinking. 

"Yeah," Wanda says, still looking at her plate. 

"I'm a little hurt."

The words make Wanda's head snap up. Your face does look a little crestfallen, even if you're smiling. 

"I guess you told Natasha first since she's setting you up on a date?"

"Oh," Wanda is caught off guard. "I mean, kind of? It just...sort of came out when I was with Natasha last. I wanted to tell you first, I just didn't know how. I think I was nervous. But I swear—"

"Relax," you smile at her. "You don't need to explain it."

"No," Wanda insists. "I did really want to tell you, but I just didn't know how to broach the subject, and I was trying to ask Nat for advice on what to do, and then it just spiraled."

You start laughing, which stuns Wanda.

"Man," you laugh into your fist, trying to balance your plate with one hand on your thighs. "Sometimes I forget how spastic you can be."

"Shut up," Wanda would throw a cushion at you, but you'd probably spill your food everywhere. 

"It's fine," you tell her sincerely. "I'm just...shocked is all."

"How come?" Wanda asks carefully, cutting up her already bite-sized potatoes even smaller to seem nonchalant. 

There's a pause, and Wanda peers through her eyelashes at you. You're lost in thought, trying to absorb the information.

"I guess...I just never thought about it either," you shrug. "I always thought you'd marry Vision and if not him, then another guy who is just barely good enough for you."

Wanda can't help but laugh at that because you've been somewhat vocal throughout the years that while you didn't mind Vision, you didn't think he was good enough for her. You got more vocal each time they broke up after getting back together. 

"So," Wanda says after the laughter dies down. "Do you think it'd be weird? Seeing me with another girl?"

You shift your weight, adjusting on the couch. Your face doesn't show much of what you're thinking, and Wanda's wondering if you're doing it to spare her feelings in any way. 

"I don't know," you finally say. "I guess maybe it depends on the girl."

The words give Wanda something to think about as you take it that the conversation has ended. You resume the TV, quietly eating your dinner, just as Wanda does. 

Wanda wonders if you're imagining yourself with her. She could definitely feel the shift in your thoughts as you process the information. 

It was out there. It was really out there that Wanda didn't just date boys. A part of her is actually curious about her date with Darcy, even though she knows that it's not really real. Wanda wants to know if she actually would enjoy dating other women or if she's only in love with you.

Natasha's right, Wanda thinks listlessly. If Darcy was anything like you personality-wise, as Natasha suggested, would Wanda be interested? If Wanda couldn't have you, would she resort to dating women like you?

Would you notice such a pattern? 

Everything is getting more complicated, and Wanda is starting to think she's digging herself into a deeper and deeper hole. In some ways, it would be easier to just confess to you outright. Yet, she can't bring herself to do it. 

There's a deep longing to make sure her odds are at their best when Wanda does. She badly wants you to feel the same, or at least be open to trying with her. 

It's probably wrong, but Wanda needs to know if it was a possibility that you'd get jealous—jealous like Wanda's been. 

Wanda really, really hopes you get jealous in the way it means you want to be the one dating her. 

"So," you say, breaking the silence. "Kind of weird that Natasha has a bunch of single coworkers, right? Wonder how they haven't started dating each other."

Wanda turns to you, a giant smile on her face. "That's what I said!"

There's no way in hell Wanda is ready to let another person have you.

PART FOUR

[credince--writes]

I just found your blog and holy shit the size kink fic with König hits different! Your work is so good, I'm glad I stumbled across it!!

I was wondering... Would you be able to do the breeding kink part as a continuation?? Please 🥺 It's totally cool if you're not comfortable with it!!

Ask, and with nearly a month-long wait you shall receive.

Hands (2)

Prompt:

Continuation of the Breeding Kink (mildly) explored in the shower scene of part 1.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - AO3

König x Fem!Reader

Oh, how pitiful.

I mean, look at you.

Look at how you sat there, on that chair in that shitty little office scribbling away at paperwork whiles your eyes came so close to shutting on their own. Drifting off to sleep while you should be working.

Sitting back in your seat and raising your hands to your face, rubbing against your eyes in an attempt to chase away the drowsiness that seemed to be working to glue your eyes shut.

Glancing down, noticing how even your handwriting had started to become sloppier with your drowsiness you decided that yea, sure. You'd accept the defeat against your exhaustion and trudge back to your room.

Setting the pen down, bunching the papers together, and pushing them into a folder to be tucked away for the next morning. Standing from your chair, pushing it in, and turning off the lights to the office you made your way, slowly out into the hallway headed in the direction of your soon-to-be cavern of slumber.

Aka your room with that shitty little cot and the light that made the horrible buzzing sound.

Trying to ignore the few other people buzzing about you couldn't help but try to walk that much quieter as you walked past your boss's door.

There was no way he could see you, the blinds were shut.

Just a few more steps-

The sound of the handle turning and the door sliding open- "Hey! Well, aren't I luck I caught you. Deliver this for me?" Extended in his hand, a folder.

You wanted to tell him to shove it.

You really did.

That awkward, 'i know you're tired but I'm your boss so do what I say' a smile plastered on his face.

You sigh.

Nodding.

Extending your hand out and grabbing the folder, nodding a little bit while he thanks you for glancing down at the paperwork and turning around to begin walking in the new direction to deliver the paperwork.

...

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Come on."

"Just a little bit more."

"Please?"

"I'm talking to a fucking storage room."

"Who makes these fucking cubbies?" You snarled, leg extended with one awkwardly lifted up and pulling yourself up by your left hand, extending outward trying to stuff the folder in the correct receptacle.

"God- fuck!" Your hand slipping, sending you sliding back, your foot going over your head and sending you tumbling to the ground, landing ass first on the cold cement floor.

You groaned, thankful for the fact no one had been there to see your fall.

The sound of the door pushing open, and a male voice calling out. "Hello? Is everything all the right?"

König.

Your face burned. Shameful, bright red.

And you stayed silent, hoping that by not responding he would simply leave.

So you sat, looking like a dumbfounded puppy with a folder of papers scattered to your side, still awkwardly sitting on your ass with the twinge of pain in your rump from your unruly fall.

But the sounds of his boots against the floor coming closer-

"I'm alright!" You squeaked out.

"Oh, Ärztin." You could hear him exhale, shoulders slightly relaxing as he glanced down at the scene before him. "Why did you not responded to my callings a moment ago?"

"Kind of hoping you shut the door and didn't investigate." You sighed out, awkwardly laughing, tilting your head up to look at him. "As you can see I have had a fall."

"A soldier who would not investigate those sounds has no place here." He scolded lightly. "Now, Ärztin, up you go."

Because you could protest, he reached down, large hands grabbing around your waist. The hands engulfed around your midsection as he lifted you as if you weren't as much as a duffle bag to be tossed over his shoulder while he marched through the halls.

"Oh-" You gasped, suddenly being upright and back pressed against his chest. "Thank you, König." You paused for a moment, looking down and realizing his hands were still wrapped around you, holding you by your midsection, and your back was pressed up against his chest.

"Of course, Shatz." You could hear the smile from under his hood- the snarky little tone dancing around in his smug words. "Now why had you fallen?"

"Just, um. Getting this." You motioned to the folder. "Up there." You motioned to the too-tall cubby.

"Ah, leave it to me." He said, releasing your midsection and grabbing the folder, easily lifting his arm and placing it into the cubicle with no problem.

"Gonna have you file the paperwork from now on." You joked.

"Ah, I prefer my work on the field. Thank you though. Good night." He curtly nodded his head and left as quickly as he had arrived. Leaving you puzzled- embarrassed- and lingering on the feeling of his large hands wrapped around your waist.

...

At this point?

It was not innocent anymore.

Your cheeks burned as you laid back in bed. Hand reaching down past the soft expanse of your tummy and pushing through your waistband.

Just thinking of it being him.

König sliding his hands around your body- feeling you. How his hands could envelop all of your arm, the majority of your thigh, how they slid up against your breasts and one hand completely reached around your fragile little neck.

The light squeeze gives the warning to behave.

Pulling you up into his lap, his legs folded at the knee as he leaned back, pulling your back up against his chest just as he had you lifting you off of the ground. Hand wrapping around your neck and the other hand snaking around and diving down.

The single, large digit would dip between your folds and gently tease at your entrance collecting all of the evidence of your excitement, dragging it upwards, and slowly circling your clit.

The sound of his breath, hot and heavy against your ear and neck as his hood would be lifted, just enough for his teeth to graze against the tip of your ear.

Arching your back and releasing a whine, his hand leaving your clit and grabbing hold of your hip. The large hand grabbed hold of the flesh and bone and pulled you back onto him, stilling your movements and proving any resistance against his intentions wouldn't be tolerated.

"Are you going to be good for me, Shatz?" His voice was breathy- husky. Deep as he growled the words into your neck, moving his hand back down to slip a finger into your tight pussy.

"Yes, please. yes, I'll be so good I promise-"

"You sound so sweet." He compliments, before pushing another digit inside of you, hand reaching up and pushing two fingers into your mouth- stretching out to your tongue and pushing down against it holding your mouth open in the process.

You let out a choked moan sound, the heat in your abdomen at the pressure of his fingers curling inside of you- another outstretched and rubbing smooth circles into your clit with he pad of his finger.

You could feel the saliva gathering in your mouth, tongue fighting against his fingers and closing your mouth, sucking on the digits and swirling your tongue around them.

He chuckles, softly but in that deep dark tone that feels as if it's vibrating out of his chest as he removes his fingers from your mouth and leans forward. Attaching his mouth to yours and breaching your mouth with your tongue.

His fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, wet sounds filling the air and mingling with the soft moans of your heated makeout session. Feeling his tongue invading your mouth and pushing up against yours, the feeling of his spit mingling with your own in your mouth.

Pulling your head back, a thick string of saliva bridging off of his tongue into your mouth. Lifting his hand from your pussy he pushed them into your mouth- not even in a gentle manner. Pushing them inside of your mouth and collecting yours and his own spit and pulling them back before pushing three fingers into your cunt.

"a-ah... Ah." You cried out, the feeling of his fingers stretching your pussy open causing a slight burn as he slowly pumped them in and out.

"Doing so good for me. Need to make sure you are ready. Do not want to do the hurting of my sweet little Ärztin, do I?"

You nodded, mindlessly bucking your hips down onto his fingers as he began to pump them in and out with more purpose.

Against your thigh, you could feel it. You were sure of it- his large and hard cock pressed up against you straining against his pants.

Your hand reaches down, trying to grab his waistband but his hand snags your wrist quickly and pins it to your waist.

He tsked, curling his fingers in a way that made little spots of white appear in your vision. Body falling forward as a moan escaped your lips.

"Oh, does that feel good?" He mocks teasingly. She knew that if she could turn around and see his face it would have that snaggle-toothed grin. The evil little glint in his eyes. A monster holding its prey ready to devour.

"Yesss....." You whine out. "I want you, please."

"You do, do you?" He asks, mock innocence as he continues to push and pulls his fingers from inside of you.

"I do. Please König."

You could feel the shuffle of his hand reaching for his waistband, pulling his belt with a metallic clatter and the zrrrt of his zipper. The sound of rustling fabric as his pants were dropped and his boxers pulled down.

He gripped his cock, rubbing the head of it against your thigh and smearing the bead of precum that had accumulated on it. Rubbing the sensitive flesh against the soft skin of your thigh.

His breath shuddered behind you, as he brought his hips back lining his cock up against your cunt and pushing forward slowly.

His hand wrapped around your front, stabilizing you and bringing his finger forward to rub slow circles into your clit as he continued to push his cock into your tight wet hole.

He groaned- in appreciation would be the only explanation as he bucked suddenly, the feeling of his cock raking against your walls sending you into a tailspin.

"Come on soldier, fuck me." You half whined- half ordered.

His hips and breath stuttered before snapping back and forward as one hand held your throat pushing your back to his chest, the other wrapped around your hip and dipping down rubbing against your clit.

"I will, Shatz." he hisses out, pulling himself out completely and thrusting himself back into the base.

The coil in your tummy pulled tight, the sound of your moans becoming higher pitched while his fingers continued their onslaught against your clit.

"You gonna cum? be a good girl and cum on my cock?"

"Yes- yes I'm gonna-"

"Then be a good girl, cum on my cock while I fill you up."

You moaned the feeling of his jacket against the skin on your back, the slight scratch of some kind of velcro on his pants, and the hot feeling of his finger on your clit sending you over the edge. The fluttering walls of your cunt gripped onto his cock as he continued to snap his hips back and forth into your wet pussy, the squelching sound of wet skin and the slapping of his thighs against yours.

He huffed, grunting, then grunting again before removing his hand from your clit and neck. both hands reaching down to your hips, holding you in an iron grip, and pushing his cock as deep as it could as he came inside you.

His body snapped like a rubber band, wrapping around you as his head fell on your shoulder, feeling his chest heaving behind you as he kept his head rested against you and hips pushed as close to yours as he could.

He lifted you, sliding a hand down to your pussy and using two of his large fingers to push his cum back inside of you, fingering your oversensitive pussy in the name of keeping his seed inside of you.

God,

his hands.

You glanced down, staring at your knees and the sound of the bedside lamp making the strange buzzing sound that would keep you up at night if you forgot to turn it off breaking you from your trance.

You sat, ass resting against your calves with your hand dipped down, fingers curling up into your pussy while you dreamed of him splitting you open on his cock. Holding you up by your waist with his big hands.

Two fingers inside of you, what would it feel like if it were his real fingers? The ones you'd inspected so many times. You could imagine the feeling of the rough pads of his fingers-

But his cock?

Oh, that was a mystery you'd remain to dream of.

[yarrayora]

Idk how to explain properly, but I’m a really big fan of the dynamic you portray between Marcille and Falin. I’ve always loved . idk how to say.. divorce? trouble-in-paradise? arcs/portrayals that look at problems in otp, and yours is super interesting. Sorry if this is weird just wanted to say :)

not weird at all! im flattered, thanks!

i wasnt really into farcille at first, mostly i was just impressed an f/f ship managed to be the fandom's no1, basically proving that when two female characters in a mostly male dominated cast are allowed to bond with each others and be their own characters people will latch on to them

mostly though aro touden siblings is still my no1 and even back then i didnt care about shipping because any type of romantic relationship in dunmeshi is less interesting than the potential of political intrigue the worldbuilding set up (yes, even chilchuck's failing marriage is less interesting to me than how living in the dungeon was safer for the orcs than being neighbors to human civilization) (shocking, i know)

but it all changed when i saw the daydream hour about marcille thinking falin looks cute in feminine clothing while falin herself is obviously uncomfortable with it

i can't sleep. i have to think about this. i have to think about how it's their first love and their first relationship and one is going in blind while the other set up her expectations based on a harlequin romance novel. they are NOT in the same wavelength at all and neither of them are particularly good at communicating their intention, with falin who grew up a convenient kid because she thought it was the least she could do for her family and marcille who frankly speaking was used to being treated as someone superior back at the magic school

thank god kabru exists because who else is going to give them a real advice for their very real relationship? chilchuck will be like "okay just break up" while not seeing the mirror to his own relationship with his runaway wife. senshi, wise as he is, is never in a romantic relationship. laios would be like :((( you guys are fighting? and gets stressed out on his own which makes it even more stressful to the girls. namari is like. "i, uh, please talk to kabru."

anyway theres also the bonus comic about falin inviting marcille to watch daltian clan's opera adaptation and while there is something to say about marcille thinking the humans playing elves doesn't fit her aesthetic (and the difference of societal expectations of dressing up as a different race in dunmeshi universe compared to in ours) all i can think of is that in modern day au where daltian clan has a movie adaptation marcille has a tumblr blog where she posts Hate on the daltian clan movie tag and calling it criticism which it is but also not the place, girl, go to rotten tomatoes for that

falin also has a tumblr and she and marcille had no idea the other is a tumblr user. falin made a post like "just watched daltian clan with my gf i get why shes really obsessed with it now" and marcille, against her better judgement replies to the post like "really sorry that you were misled by your girlfriend like that, you should read the novels instead, it's way better."

laios who sees falin looking shocked at her phone asks whats up and then after receiving the answer says "wow sounds like a real jerk! just block them"

anyway thats my modern day farcille when there's no high fantasy problems involved

[buggyjuggie]

Hi Hi! I recently found your blog and really liked your work.

I was wondering if I could request some HCs about a masc reader who stays up late and wakes up super early (ex. Staying up till 12am but waking up at 3) but somehow is usually very energetic and hyper?

The character(s) are up to you, if thats okay? I read through the rules and everything and I think this is okay, but feel free to ignore if I messed up anything! 🫶

──★ ˙ ̟Mk1 characters x Masc reader who wakes up early and goes to bed late

「 ✦ Johnny Cage ✦ 」

* Come on you know he definitely does the same thing.

* Doesn’t understand how your so energetic. If he wants to be anywhere near your energy level he NEEDS a crap ton of coffee.

* Easiest way he gets the both of you to sleep is by having a movie marathon or having a gym date and exhausting yourself’s.

* He always ends up going to bed/passing out first so you end up following him, even if Johnny can’t talk you still enjoy cuddling and being next to him.

* You end up picking him up from shoots and sets after long days, because your the only person he trusts that would still be awake at these hours.

* After a long day that was supposed to be about the both of you hanging out he ended up eating sugary snacks to stay awake and had the biggest sugar crash ever.

「 ✦ Liu Kang ✦ 」

* When he learned of your habit was really worried for you, despite the fact that he has spent eons alone Liu Kang still remembers when ordinary people should go to sleep.

* Always tries to somehow convince with his words of wisdom for you to go to sleep earlier (it almost never works but its worth a try)

* I think that a god like him doesn’t need sleep but one of the ways he gets you to sleep earlier is by cuddles. He’ll hug and use his natural body heat to lull you to sleep.

* Both of you are opposites of each other but manage to make it work he takes time to do exciting and adrenaline pumping activities and you enjoy spending time with him drinking tea, meditating and talking about anything that you can.

* Anytime he sees you being hyperactive it always puts a smile on his face, just is stuck in trance watching you and being happy that he gets to have this.

「 ✦ Li mei ✦ 」

* HOW?? JUST HOW??? she always asks herself.

* Being Sun Do’s first constable requires a strict schedule, despite the fact that she likes doing her job waking up early is not one of them.

* When she wakes up early Li mei tends to be grumpy and down she absolutely can’t understand how you getting so little sleep are in a good and cheery mood.

* She makes paper lanterns that help both of you fall asleep, they smell like lavender.

* If Li mei’s having a hard day she appreciates your energetic personality, it puts her in a good mood and help’s to keep her spirits high when struggling with Outworld’s conflicts.

* Let’s you take care of her spirit lion since both of you are very energetic and it has grown attached to you.

「 ✦ Mileena ✦ 」

* Thinks that you just have a hard time sleeping.

* Because of the way her base outfit is designed i think Mileena owns a lot of fuzzy and warm sweaters. She gives then to you as a hope that it’ll help you sleep better.

* Tries to do literally everything to get you to go bed earlier royal massages, big fancy beds with fluffy pillows, essential oils and whatnots.

* Is surprised that after all that your still full of energy, starts to think that it might be magic or a spell.

* You offered to do some of the more tedious jobs or her’s so that she can enjoy her time as empress, Milleena didnt like the idea of making you do her work but you still insisted by saying that if you let her, both of you will have more time to spend together and she caved.

* You sleep a lot in Mileenas room because she has a lot of flowers that help her fall asleep more calmly and keep her tarkat affliction from coming out. The flowers help you because they remind you of Mileena the happy memories and moments spent with her make for the most adorable dreams and even date ideas.

「 ✦ Havik ✦ 」

* An agent of chaos hell bent of causing mischief any where possible and a little to no sleep human who somehow is extremely energised to a concerning extent. I think thats a math made in heaven.

* Like Liu kang i don’t really think Havik needs to sleep yes he does get tired but doesn’t have adherent need for it.

* Thought at first that you were also from chaosrealm due to your high energy and hyperactivity.

* Noticed your how your sleeping was inconsistent but because he has never dated a human before he doesn’t do much about it, think’s that this is just how humans are.

* Still offers to let you rest or even rest with him if he sees that your starting to get tired or are gonna crash.

* Both of you are the most chaotic couple in world and he loves it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Once again I’m so sorry this took so long to get out. I really really enjoyed writing this one especially because i got to write for any character i wanted so that helped me thing outside the box. I didn’t really have any specific way of integrating masculine terms or action i just mainly tried not to baby the reader.

Hope you enjoyed reading :3

[irkimatsu]

requesting a little husk giving sweet tender aftercare after wrecking your shit in his bestial form, as a treat <33 - love con (+ jeronimo lol)

Con! Jer! <3 Is this a treat for you guys, or for me?! Either way, I think we'll both enjoy feasting on this one!

Set with Overlord Husk because it's my blog and I do what I want. GN!Reader has just been fucked out by Husk in his bestial form, and then he helps wash them off. Lots of cuddling and nuzzling and compliments and god it's so sweet my teeth hurt. But I'm still calling 18+ because this sweetness is obviously taking place right after rough sex.

---

By the time he’s done with you, you can barely breathe. You’re left sprawled out on your stomach on his giant bed, over his luxurious silk sheets, as you try to remember how to move your limbs… or find a reason why you should move from this spot in the first place.

Overlord Husk still looms over you, his hot breath hitting your skin. His large paws rest on either side of your head, his right paw tightened around the golden chain affixed to the jeweled collar around your neck. You admire the long claws at the tips, thinking about how they dug into your hips earlier… no way could he do that now. They were so much smaller before he transformed; he’d rip you to pieces at this size.

“You okay, doll?” asks a rough, gravelly voice that’s still struggling for breath.

“Mmm…” You’re not sure yourself if that’s a yes or a no. You’re too exhausted to think. All you want to do is sink into sleep in these soft sheets, never moving again…

A light moan escapes your mouth as a large, rough tongue starts lapping at your shoulder blades, slowly working its way down your spine. When your relationship first started, it took you a while to get used to the barbs on his tongue (among other places), but now the gesture only feels comforting. You know he doesn’t mean to hurt you; you know he couldn’t even imagine it. It’s what allows you to let his abrasive tongue drag its way across your skin, without ever wondering what would happen if he licked too roughly.

He wouldn’t do anything too roughly with you, so it wasn’t worth thinking about.

“Can ya turn over?” he asks. All you can do is groan again; moving on your own is definitely not happening for a while. Thankfully, you have him to help. Moving carefully so as to not injure you with his claws, he turns you over using the paw that isn’t still holding your chain. He takes a moment to look you over, remaining still and silent. His face is so much more animalistic than normal now, with a more pronounced snout and two long, prominent fangs.

You use what little energy you have to lift your arm and cup his muzzle. He nuzzles into your palm in response.

After you let your arm collapse back onto the bed, he resumes grooming you. He starts under your chest, avoiding the most sensitive areas, and laps his way down your stomach.

As his head moves downward, you can’t help but think of where he was not too long ago, holding your legs wide open in his paws as his huge tongue lapped so lovingly between them…

“Fuck…” you whisper to yourself as you remember how much he made you shudder.

You feel him slowly shrinking above you, his presence becoming much less looming but still no less comforting. Now that he’s back to regular size, his tongue has much better control over where it grooms you. He licks his way back up your body, still moving carefully over your chest so he doesn’t overstimulate you. He soon reaches the side of your neck and focuses his attention there, purring and nuzzling against your collar.

“You did so good, baby…” he says, and your heart swells at the praise.

“So did you, sir…” You wrap your arms around him and hug him tight as he laughs.

“Sir… still sounds as good as the first time,” he says. “So, everything was okay? I wasn’t too rough?”

“You were perfect,” you assure him as you lightly scratch his neck. You’ve always heard warnings about making deals with Overlords, especially a greedy, demanding beast like the Gambling Demon…

But as he lays over you like this, you can’t imagine any other role in this world than that of his loyal pet. He always takes such good care of you in exchange for your loyalty, after all.

“What would make you comfortable now?” he asks.

It takes you a moment to decide. “Mmm… a bath? I could use a cooldown…”

“Of course.” You hate that he has to get off of you for even an instant, but soon after he stands, he effortlessly scoops you into his arms, supporting under your back and knees and pulling you close to his still-pounding chest. Before he moves again, he can’t help but lick your cheek, purring again as he does so. The chain around your neck dissolves as he carries you into his master bathroom and gently sets you on the bench of his large tub. He turns on the tap, but doesn’t close the drain. He fiddles with the knobs as he holds a single finger underneath the running water, frowning and grumbling about the water on his fur, but he eventually finds the right temperature. He shakes his finger dry as best as he can, then retrieves a cloth from a nearby shelf and runs it beneath the water.

You love soaking in this large tub by yourself, filled with hot water and the various calming scents Husk keeps the bathroom stocked with, but you also know that’s a luxury Husk could stand to live without. Still, his idea of bathing with you is just as relaxing in its own way.

After the cloth is properly soaked, he turns off the tap. He then dabs a bit of honey-scented oil onto the cloth, then takes his spot next to you on the bench. The cloth is cool against your skin as he massages your neck with it; not the usual temperature you prefer for a bath, but after the exertion you just went through, your heated skin could use it.

“Lean against me,” he says, and you follow the command without even thinking. He holds you in one arm as he continues wiping you down with the cloth, knowing by now exactly where you like to be rubbed, with which patterns and pressure. You snuggle against his shoulder and sigh at the cloth gently rubbing up and down your spine, lulling you halfway into sleep. His gentle kisses to the top of your head only relax you further.

“God, you’re beautiful…” he murmurs as he wipes your hip, trying his hardest not to tickle you too much. “I love having such a beautiful treasure…” He pushes up on your shoulder slightly to make you sit up, then starts massaging your chest, showing it much more tender care than he had earlier.

You only hiss a little as the cloth runs over a fresh bite mark, one of the many reminders on your body that the Gambling Demon has decided you belong to only him.

“Sir…” you whisper.

“It’s Husk now,” he reminds you, gently running a paw down your cheek. “When we’re like this, it’s Husk.”

“Husk…” you repeat.

Perhaps as a reward, he kisses your lips as he continues cleaning you off. His kisses are so much less hungry now, but he can still show so much passion with such a gentle touch of his lips against yours.

“Feeling better?” he asks after the kiss. He’s gazing at you with deep compassion and concern, an expression you never could have imagined from him when you first met him at his casino all those months ago.

You wonder how many others have seen him with that expression, and you can’t help but enjoy the idea that you’re one of the lucky few.

“Much better,” you say before returning to cuddling him and nuzzling under his chin. He holds you tightly for a brief minute or two, silently rocking you and enjoying your presence.

It’s so cold when he lets you go and steps away for a moment, but he soon returns with a plush, wine-red robe. He helps you into the robe and ties the sash shut, and after one more kiss, he picks you up again. You wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you back to bed, in no hurry for him to put you back down. You’re once again forced to lose his touch as he lays you down on his mattress, but he’s quick to join your side. Once he’s laying on his back, he grabs your sides and pulls you on top of him.

“Let me know when you’re settled in,” he says.

You rest your head on his chest, your senses basking in his soft fur and warm skin, his steadily beating heart and the faint traces of that day’s cologne. “Okay… settled.”

He doesn’t pull the blanket up over you. He doesn’t need to. His arms and wings wrapped firmly enough around you to keep you warm and protected as you sleep.

“I love you, my jewel…”

[sports-on-sundays]

It kills me to see all the requested: nope! In your fanfics

How about, reader struggles to sleep due to the stress of her work & travelling so he comforts her and helps her sleep? I’ll take any f1 driver or barca player.

help me sleep / Pedri González

Summary: Pedri x girlfriend!reader

Warnings: censored cussing, sobbing, work problems, stress, anxiety

Requested?: YEs! yEs!!!!! YES, MATE, IT IS REQUESTED!!!!

Author's Note: First request, baby!!! I love you so much bestie! <3 I'm so happy you saw my subtle-not-subtle begs for requests 😭!!! And I hope it's okay I chose Pedri; the other day I was having major I-Miss-Pedri syndrome that we've all been having for the past however many months (I don't even want to think about how long it has been) so I decided as a tribute to my boy, the first request on my blog should be him.

I say 'tribute' as if he's dead or something 😭

I feel like I'm acting way too excited about this request for it to be normal, but that's okay! I'm happy, and I owe it all to you! Now, let's get into this-

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock went the clock on the wall. That stupid old clock that wasn't even set to the right time. You sat on the living room couch, at 2:34 A.M., dealing with work sh*t.

You walked in this evening, feeling ready to literally collapse, and was greeted by your boyfriend as the welcoming committee. It was sweet. He had bought you your favorite treat and flowers and everything and let you snack on it. Had a little snuggle with you. And the moment you stood up, telling him you had to unpack from your long work trip, he pulled you back down on the couch. "No way," he had said. "You're tired. Your bags can wait 'til tomorrow. For now, just relax."

And he really had convinced you. He really had. Soon after that, you had gone to your bedroom and gotten snuggled in together, and within minutes, you were fast asleep.

Only to wake up three hours later. You stared at the ceiling for a solid fifteen minutes, unable to fall back asleep as the stress of work and everything you hadn't gotten done and needed to get done crushed you.

Realizing there was no chance of you falling back to sleep now, you slipped out of bed as slowly as you could, as to not wake up your boyfriend, and quietly walked (or rather, stumbled, because of the extreme lack of sleep) to the living room.

And so now you sit on the couch, barely alive, feeling like a lump on a log but on steroids, dealing with work sh*t.

Suddenly, you get a message from one of your co-workers, though. Bad news... You click on it, and in the moment, with everything you've already gone through within the last seventy-two hours, this is enough.

You swallow, your phone slipping out of your hands. I'm trying so hard. How could my job be on the line? Your head falls into your hands, and you let out a angry groan, letting out quick, little breaths.

God, I can't do this. I can't do this anymore. I need help. Please, I need help. I just can't keep doing this any longer. I can't do this anymore.

Your eyes well up, and that turns into a tear. And that tear turns into another one. And those tears turn into crying. And crying into weeping. Tired, pathetic, pitiful weeping, until you're flat-out sobbing, unable to control it. The world spins as another glowing text comes in on your phone on the rug and your laptop shows more emails and the bags in the corner of the room are still full of your things from the work trip and and and and and...

Suddenly, strong, warm arms around your trembling body. You lean into your boyfriend's body, blubbering between gasps, "Pedri you weren't supposed to wake up... I know you're going through a lot too... I don't want to stress you out... I'm sorry..."

"Shhh," he soothes, rubbing your back. "Do you really think you're on your own? My love, we help and love each other. You can be vulnerable. I know it's hard. Don't you think for a second that I don't want to help you."

"This isn't your problem..."

"Your problem is my problem, because I love you," he mutters close to your ear. He gently closes your laptop and powers off your phone. "You don't need to worry about that right now."

"Pedri-" You grip his shirt, looking at him slightly manically. "Yes I do. I could lose my job."

His jaw tightens, but he says, "What you're doing is impossible. If you lose your job because it's too hard, then maybe you shouldn't be in this job. And it's not because you're a failure. It's because you're expected to do much more than anyone should be able to handle. If you lose your job, I'll be the first to support you until you can get a new one. Okay? But we don't even need to worry about that right now, okay?"

"But-"

Suddenly he takes your wet, tear-stained cheeks in his hands, and looks at you earnestly right in the eyes. "But right now, you need to calm down. Come on; why don't we go to the bedroom, okay?"

"Uh- y- yeah," you get up, feeling terrible at how much a mess you are. Pedri walks to the bedroom with you, his arm around your shoulders the whole time. He fetches a damp rag and gently wipes your face with the cool towel. You shut your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as Pedri pulls the blanket up to your torso. You lean back, sitting upright on the blanket.

"Can I get anything for you?" he asks after he finishes, taking your hand gently.

You shake your head 'no'. "Just sit down. All I need is you."

He nods and slips onto the bed and under the blanket next to you. Straight away, you lean your head on his shoulder and clutch his hand in yours. "Y/n, you know that it'll be okay," he murmurs. Not even a question. A fact. You know that you'll be okay.

"But Pedri, what if..."

"No 'what if's right now, okay?" He pulls you closer to you, rubbing your shoulders. You sit quietly together for a while, before Pedri slowly sinks into a laying down position, pulling you down with him. You snuggle close to him, resting your head on his chest. When you yawn, he says, "You're tired. Anything I can do to help you sleep?"

You breathe gently. "Just... talk to me."

He nods and starts whispering. At first, you listen to the sweet little things he's saying as he gently strokes your hair, but soon you're too tired to comprehend them. Soon your eyes are fluttering shut, and your mind is switching from daytime thoughts to nighttime dreaming.

Within your dream, you feel a soft kiss on your forehead and Pedri's perfect sweet-as-honey voice murmur, "Buenas noches, mi amor."

[victoria-daydreams]

The Hare and The Tower

Chapter Fourteen: Vile Rumors

AN: *scratches neck* yeah so remember when I said this chapter would be out a couple weeks after I posted that preview, well I got an upper respiratory infection literally that same week and between trying to recuperate, work, and school this was put on the back burner. Hopefully, with this chapter being long it makes up for the absence. And God help me, it's been so long since I've written anything so be easy on me lol.

Trigger Warnings: age gap, vomiting

Word Count: 5.3k

Taglist: @dogmatic255 @sidechrevans @amethystwonders11 @ladysindar @sweetwanderlust05 @newandykes @helloimlateforeverything @loveofvernonslife @stitchattacks @dariequeen @kishie8 @girlonfireice @snowymarvel1205 @greenlightower @harrypotteranna23-blog

If you want to be added to the taglist just leave a comment.

Summary: Still reeling from the fallout with Otto, Jesmyn is quickly forced to learn two harsh lessons. The transgressions of her husband are also hers to bear and brazen half-truths are worse than lies.

Chapter Fifteen: We Light the Way

A terrible dread washed through Jesmyn as she approached the carved, oak door ahead of her. The corridor was far too dark, too quiet. Her body felt heavy, and the air was akin to molasses—each step closer seeming to take a greater effort than the one before. Fear, panic, and apprehension coiled and collided within her, the onslaught of emotions created a horrible churning, stomach twisting vortex.

Coming to a standstill just outside of the door, she reached out with a trembling hand to knock on the door, but froze in mid-air.

"I've been informed I'm to travel to Driftmark with Princess Rhaenyra. We sail at dawn," Jesmyn announced quietly, her hand limply dropping back to her side.

Standing outside of Otto's bedchamber door, a shiver ran down her spine for the night seemed colder than most. Jesmyn could only stare at the warped flaws in the wood, waiting for a reply, but ultimately was met by silence. Jesmyn strained her ears for a sign of movement behind his door, for she knew he was awake, and he knew that she knew it as well. With each passing second, Jesmyn felt her heart turn into lead, sinking down further and further in her chest. She remained silent for a few more moments.

"I'm here to bid you farewell Husband, as we part on our separate journeys," she continued, placing her hand on the door. "You are angry at me, this I know," she acknowledged, releasing a shaky breath. "But I will not depart without speaking these words. I love you Otto," she said. 'Despite the harsh words we traded, my heart remains yours. Should anything—"

Forcefully, the door swung open drawing a startled gasp from her as the heat of husband’s gaze burned into her own. Otto's expression was unreadable as ever, his jaw was set tight while his mouth a thin line. They held each others stare for a few seconds, both waiting for the other to say something. Jesmyn broke first.

"I will not let our last words be ones we regret," she said firmly

Another long, uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Still, Otto only stared at her, an act which only began to draw Jesmyn's ire. She knew her husband well enough that she didn't expect an immediate reconciliation, but the hope was there in her mind. To her, this silence she was being subjected was bordering on ridiculous, did he not comprehend her words? She was set to sail on the unpredictable waters of the sea.

"I see," Jesmyn said softly, with a nod. "I shouldn't have came. I'm sorry for disturbing you," she apologized, dropping her eyes from him to the floor. "May sleep find you well, Husband," she wished, before turning away from Otto.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Jesmyn walked back down the corridor to her own chambers. The sun will be up again in a few hours or so.

"You posses both beauty and brawn,"

A velvety voice broke through the silence, lingering in the air like a caress. Jesmyn froze in place, mid-step, before slowly turning back around. Once more, her brown eyes stared at Otto’s blue and for the first time she finally noticed the tiredness around his eyes; the way his face was paler than usual. Their argument had taken its toll on him far more than he would let on.

"It's why I was so keen on securing your hand in marriage," Otto continued, deeply exhaling as he moved towards her. "Yet, your intellect fails you when it comes to Rhaenyra. Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you," Otto noted, coming to a stop in front of her. Leaning down, he pressed his lips against Jesmyn's hairline. "Knowingly or not," he uttered, before kissing the top of her head and lingering there for a bit.

Otto drew back and pushed the few loose hairs from where his lips had touched.

"Otto," Jesmyn whispered, leaning into his embrace.

But as quickly as his embrace came, he retreated from her. Entering his chambers, Otto spared one last glance at Jesmyn before he shut the door.

~~~x~~~

The Next Day

Sitting on the quarterdeck, needle and thread in hand, Jesmyn listened to the waves gently crash against the sides of the ship; the wood creaking as they swayed in the ocean. One by one, Jesmyn's needle stabbed through the white fabric. Her stitches small and perfect, forming the shape of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon unlit.

Unconsciously, she let out a breath, slow and heavy, while pulling the needle through again. All of the events from the day before still weighed heavily on her mind.

"Your stomach must be made out of cast iron, Lady Hightower," Criston said warmly

With a grin, Jesmyn looked away from her work to the knight standing in front of her.

"It has a mind of its own," she replied. "Some days I'm the vision of perfect health. Other days—"

Not too far off in the distance, Viserys groaned loudly before vomiting over the edge of the ship.

"Not unlike that, I suppose?" he questioned, slightly amused.

"Very much that," she agreed, laughing lightly. She felt her babe kicked her, as if to express its agreement. "Poor man," she added, shaking her head and glancing at the ailing king.

"Lady Hightower, may I ask you something?" Criston inquired, bringing her attention back to him.

"Of course," Jesmyn answered, a kind smile on her lips. "And there's no need for titles, we're not in front of the court. Jesmyn will be just fine," she corrected. "Ask your question Criston, my ears are open," she encouraged, gently laying down her sewing into her lap.

"Before you married Lord Hightower, did you ever think about... running away?" he asked, an unfamiliar tinge of anxiety in his words. "Freeing yourself from the duties and responsibilities unfairly placed upon you?" he went on.

Jesmyn chuckled softly, "What highborn girl hasn't?" she asked back, her shoulders slightly bouncing with humor. To answer your question, I have Criston, many times, ashamedly," she confessed.

"What stopped you?"

"Well, my family of course. I would miss them so very dearly," Jesmyn explained, as if it was obvious. "Gods, I couldn't begin to imagine the heartache my mother and father would suffer," Jesmyn continued, shaking her head. "Not only that, for my entire life I've known nothing but comfort and privilege. The thought of discarding that to be free, but poor is…unthinkable," she finished, her brows knitting together.

"Is that what most highborn girls believe?"

"I have no doubt they do," Jesmyn insisted confidently. "Make no mistake Criston, we highborn girls may constantly bemoan and complain about what is expected of us, but we know what's at stake if we don't," she assured. "I don't mean to offend, but I must say, you’re asking such strange question Criston. Why? Jesmyn wondered, her curiosity piqued.

Criston shifted from one foot to the other, "What if there was a highborn girl…one who was willing to runaway and forget all she's ever known?" he posed.

"Is she running away by herself?" Jesymn questioned, her brow furrowing.

"No, with her lover," he answered, hesitating between sentences. "Her lover who wants to take her away from everything she despises about her station,"

"Criston," Jesmyn called lowly. "Tell me, which highborn lady do you speak of?" she inquired, curiosity now morphing into concern.

"It's only a hypothetical, milady," Criston uttered, making Jesmyn's eyes narrow in suspicion. "But, should this lover and his lady runaway, know he would bring her unimaginable happiness," he said. "He has heard his lady's complaints, and wishes to free her from it all," he claimed, hope shining in his eyes.

"Criston, whatever you're thinking about doing, stop," Jesmyn stressed. "This will only end poorly for both of you," she warned.

"You don’t believe she would except my proposal,"

"Whoever this Lady is, It’s unlikely she would," she replied bluntly, with a scoff. "She's not going to give up her titles, her land, or riches for some lowb—” she continued, abruptly letting out a sharp gasp.

Her sewing needle had bit into the tip of her finger. Jesmyn couldn’t begin to recall when she had grasped her embroidery again. Crimson quickly rose to the surface of her skin, falling in heavy drops.

"My Lady!"

"I'm fine," Jesmyn reassured quickly, grabbing her handkerchief and pressing it to wound.

Silently, she was thankful for the prick against her finger, her next words would’ve crushed Criston’s hopeless romantic heart

~~~x~~~

The wagon ride to High Tide was one of bumpiness and strained silence. Lord Lyonel Strong, the new Lord Hand sat directly across from Jesmyn, casting glances of pity at her much to her annoyance. She didn't want his pity nor did she need it. Rhaenyra was seated next to her, refusing to spare her father a glance.

For the last stretch of the ride to the castle, the party had to leave the wagon and walk to the stone archway gate. Reaching the top of the stairs, the doors swung open to reveal High Tide in all its glory. Towers made out of gray stone and crowned with roofs of silver that reached high into the gloomy skies above.

The sound of steel clanging against each other drew Jesmyn's eyes away from the grandeur castle and to the two figures sparring a few feet away from the royal entourage. One possessed silver hair which she easily knew belonged to Laenor Velaryon, the other with red hair was unknown to her. The two men bowed in front of the party. It was also in that moment when Jesmyn realized no one was there to greet them.

"How odd," she thought.

"Where is Lord Corlys?" Lord Strong asked, annoyed and offended by the disrespect. "He should be here to receive the King," he reminded.

Lord Strong's words barely left his lips when the doors to the castle opened and a silver-haired man and woman descended the staircase The young woman could be none other than Lady Laena Velaryon.

"Welcome to High Tide, Your Grace," Laena greeted, with a bright smile on her face as she gracefully came down the steps.

"What is the meaning of this, Lady Laena?" Lord Strong demanded pointedly, taking a few steps forward. "Is this how House Velaryon greets its King?"

Lady Laena's smile remained, "My father has but just returned from his long journey and he has hastened to the Hall of Nine to await Your Grace's arrival," she explained easily, walking closer to them.

"Let's just get on with it," Viserys stated tiredly.

With that, everyone followed Lady Laena into High Tide. Jesmyn looked at the King from the corner of her eye, his brow glistening with sweat from the trek up here and his breathing heavier than anyone else's. It was worrisome to see Viserys’ health rapidly deteriorating before her eyes. The effects of his worsening illness had sucked away the luster of his healthy complexion and been replaced with a sickly white color. From what Otto told her, poorly healed wounds littered Viserys' body and the cost of that led to having two fingers on one hand removed. It's why he always wore gloves nowadays.

Once Viserys and Lord Strong walked inside the Hall of Nine, the guards immediately closed the door before Rhaenyra, Laena, or Jesmyn could enter themselves.

From her left, Jesmyn heard Rhaenyra let out an annoyed huff. Jesmyn could hear the Princess' thoughts without having to have them spoken. First, father decided who she should marry and now she's not even allowed to join the conversation.

"Come," Laena said as she intertwined her arms on Rhaenyra's and Jesmyn's. "Let us see what might be had to break our fast,"

~~~x~~~

The three girls conversed with one another while enjoying a fine breakfast. After about an hour or two, Laena gave Jesmyn and Rhaenyra a tour of High Tide. When their tour concluded, Rhaenyra decided to depart from the group so she could speak privately with her betrothed. Laena followed suit, being escorted back to her room by one of her servants for a dress fitting. This left Jesmyn to her own devices.

Leaning over on the outdoor balcony railing, Jesmyn exhaled as she gazed out at the ocean. The view was something straight from a painting. Above, the sun beamed down onto the gentle waves below her causing the water to take on a tint of gold. It was beautiful—breathtaking, really. The ocean reminded her of his eyes. They were deep, powerful, and sometimes mysterious, yet always comforting and gentle. Jesmyn smiled inwardly at the thought, wondering how Otto is fairing on his trip back to Oldtown.

Glancing down, Jesmyn could see the silhouettes of Rhaenyra and Laenor far off in the distance on the sandy shore.

"I must admit, I was surprised to learn of your presence amongst the voyage with the royal party,"

Jesmyn's breath caught itself in her throat, startled by the voice. Turning away from the railing, Jesmyn did not anticipate to see Princess Rhaenys in front of her.

She dropped into a curtsy, "Princess Rhaenys," she greeted, lowering her head. "It's an honor," she added sincerely.

"I hear a congratulations is in order," Rhaenys said, motioning for her to rise. "Laena told me you are with child once more, Lady Hightower"

"I am, Princess Rhaenys," Jesmyn answered, beaming ear to ear. "Thank you," she said, dipping her chin slightly.

"This will be your third child, correct?" Rhaenys questioned curiously.

"Yes," Jesmyn replied, her hand instinctively coming to rest on the bump. "There were some complications in my last pregnancy, but Lord Hightower and I made it through," she informed, rubbing her hand up and down her stomach.

"If you are here, I'm curious to know where is the Lord Hightower?" Rhaenys wondered. "Seeing as he has fallen out of the King’s favor," she reminded.

"My Lord Husband is returning to Oldtown," Jesmyn informed. "No doubt he’s already making the long journey back to The Reach," she guessed.

"You will not be joining him?"

"No, I will not, neither will the twins. King's Landing will remain our home," Jesmyn answered. "Princess Rhaenyra offered me the position of being her lady in waiting a day before my husband's dismal," she explained. "I accepted,"

Rhaenys only hummed, her eyes doing a once over of Jesmyn, "I can't imagine your husband was enthused about this arrangement,"

"Livid more like," Jesmyn corrected, a mirthless chuckle escaping her lips.

"And yet, this outcome, unfavorable as it is, Lord Hightower still managed to succeed in one aspect," Rhaenys said, her gaze turning into a calculated one. "Albeit, a small one," she added pointedly.

"And that is?" Jesmyn asked, not liking the shift of mood in the air.

"You, Lady Hightower," Rhaenys answered simply. "Who better to be his eyes and ears while he's away from court than his own wife, a lady in waiting to Princess Rhaenyra herself," she said, making Jesmyn's eyes bulge.

"I-I would never—" Jesmyn spluttered.

"There are things we think ourselves never capable of doing, but we wound up doing them all the same," Rhaenys cut in, taking a step closer to her. "Loyalty, seems to be a weakness for Lord Hightower. When push comes to shove, we'll discover together if you share that same weakness as your Lord Husband, Lady Hightower," she finished in a whisper, as Jesmyn visibly shrank back from the icy glare.

~~~x~~~

King's Landing

With a cold stare, Jesmyn scanned the near lifeless shell that was supposed to serve as her living quarters from now on. It was a downgrade from The Tower, but pleasant nonetheless. The space was cozily furnished, echoing the opulence and expensiveness of the quarters she resided in with her family when she was unmarried.

Unceremoniously, Jesmyn allowed herself to plop down onto the plush settee before maneuvering her body to lay flat on her back. A loud, exhausted sigh came from her as her head rested on the arm of the settee, one of her ankles dangled off the cushion. Jesmyn's entire morning had been chaotic since the moment the ship sailed from Driftmark back to King's Landing.

Standing at the quarterdeck, Jesmyn watched the foamy waves as they rocked the ship through the water. A light sea wind blew against her, moving her hair slightly into her face. It all happened so fast, one moment she was admiring the sun shining brightly in the clear blue sky. Then, Criston storming off in her direction, his mood darkening anything in the vicinity and cryptically uttering three words bitterly as he passed, "You were right,"

Lest she forget the most startling occurrence of the morning, King Viserys collapsing to the ground after taking one step outside the wheelhouse in King's Landing. A shocking scene to witness, but Jesmyn's mind couldn’t have been further elsewhere. Since last night, she remained in a sour mood after her conversation with Princess Rhaenys, which she knew Rhaenyra had noticed the change in her demeanor.

What was she supposed tell her? That her older cousin accused her of being just as deceitful as her husband was and attacked her character? Rhaenyra would only brush it off as Princess Rhaenys' personality of not being one to mince words or her usual cynicism. To keep her sanity, Jesmyn decided to remain silent and to brood, her feelings had been dismissed more than enough times in the past two days, she was ready to snap if it happened once more.

Slowly, Jesmyn's eyes began to droop low, the toll of the voyage beginning to weigh on her body.

"Lady Hightower," a handmaiden called softly.

Jesmyn's eyes fluttered open, shifting them to the young girl in front of her, "Yes?" she answered irritatedly.

"You've been summoned," the handmaiden informed.

Exhaling heavily, Jesmyn swung her feet to the floor and pushed herself up from the settee into a sitting position. An action her baby was not particularly fond of as they gave a sharp kick in her kidneys which caused her to suck in air and wince. Gently, Jesmyn rubbed circles on her stomach to calm her baby down before gingerly standing up.

"Am I to meet Princess Rhaenyra in her quarters?" Jesmyn asked, her hand resting on her bump.

"It wasn’t the Princess who summoned you, milady," the handmaiden corrected, making Jesmyn's eyebrow arch. "The Queen wishes to see you,"

The journey to Alicent's chambers was longer than it should have, inexplicably she began to feel nauseous with every step she took forcing her to make several stops along the way. Standing outside the Queen's private chamber door, Jesmyn squeezed her eyes closed and pushed out a deep breath.

A handmaiden opened the door, allowing her to enter the room, but Jesmyn's steps faltered when she realized Alicent was not alone. Criston was inside as well. The door shut behind her and Jesmyn curtsied to Alicent.

"My Queen—" she began, but stopped when she felt her stomach attempting to leap out of her throat. Jesmyn clamped her hand over her mouth, trying to quell the nausea.

"Oh you poor thing!" Alicent comforted, standing up from her seat and rushing towards her. "Has the voyage left you ill?" she asked, her eyes sympathetic as she helped Jesmyn to her full height from her bow before leading her to the sofa she occupied only moments before.

"It's nothing," Jesmyn reassured, watching Alicent sit back down. "I just need to lay down and this sickness will pass,” she explained.

"Then I will try to make this quick," Alicent stated, which made Jesmyn cock her head slightly. "Sit, why don't you," she suggested nervously, patting the empty cushion beside her.

"I am not fragile Alicent, honest," Jesmyn said, chuckling at her friend’s fretting.

"As you wish," Alicent said, with a nod and an uneasy smile. "I…I—how should I say this?" she questioned, but it was directed towards herself.

Jesmyn frowned at the swift change of mood from Alicent and glanced over to Criston. Briefly, he met her stare before guiltily lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Has some—"

"Rhaenyra lied to you!"

The sharpness of Alicent's interjection struck Jesmyn with icy coldness as she slowly digested her words. Jesmyn's heart faltered a beat, an invisible dagger plunging into it. A pressure on her chest.

"No…no…" she choked out in denial, slowly shaking her head back and forth.

Jesmyn's stomach suddenly twisted itself violently into a tighter knot than it had earlier. For a moment, she could feel nothing, and yet everything all at once. She couldn't speak, her body going numb, feeling light and heavy at the same time. Jesmyn was scarcely capable of forming a coherent thought. Rage, horror, sadness, and betrayal coursed through her, fighting each other for dominance.

"S-She swore on her mother's grave!" she whispered to herself. "She swore on her mother's grave!" she repeated, in near frenzy.

To remain standing any longer was a growing challenge for Jesmyn by the second, when finally her trembling legs gave out beneath her. She sank down onto the sofa, a fog clouding her mind while dizziness spun through her skull. Jesmyn's heart pounded in her ears, filling her head with noise. She couldn't hear anything outside the deafening sounds of her own breath. Otto's words from last night gradually became deafening in her head.

"Too blinded by friendship to recognize it is very the manner of how she manipulates you,"

Faintly, Jesmyn thought she heard her name, but couldn’t make out the owner of the voice saying it.

"Jesmyn?" the voice asked, somewhere in the distance

Suddenly, a pair of hands, that were soft yet firm, grasped her own. They forced Jesmyn from her daze, causing her eyes to snap up to meet Alicent's.

"Rhaenyra wouldn't do that to me," Jesmyn said, her voice hoarse and sounding nothing like her own. "I—I value our friendship so dearly, I went against my own beloved husband," she continued airily, still feeling far, far away from her body.

"It's true, Jesmyn," Alicent reaffirmed, squeezing her hands. "She lied to you, to us," she shifted her stare to Criston. "Tell her Ser Criston," she demanded.

"Lady Hightower, it was I who laid with Princess Rhaenyra that night," Criston confessed, looking down in shame.

Jesmyn swallowed Criston's confession bitterly, "She told the truth, on a technicality," she said, inhaling a deep breath and shuddering slightly. "Daemon didn't fuck her in that pleasure house, but it was you who took her maidenhood?"

"Yes, My Lady,"

A gasping, broken sob reverberated in the air, "W-What have I done? My marriage is in…ruins ….and for what? Jesmyn wondered, her voice wavering as her words came out in short breaths. "I–I need to write Otto, I—" she went on, until her stomach lurched suddenly and Jesmyn gasped. "I think I'm going to be sick,"

Swiftly, a chamberpot was held out in front of her which Jesmyn snatched into her grasp before hurling into it, spewing out her meal from earlier in the morning. She remained in the same position for a while, still retching.

"Thank the gods, a servant just cleaned that and left it here," Alicent commented, rubbing Jesmyn’s back.

Raising her face from the chamberpot, Jesmyn's stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of the contents within the pot. Gingerly, she placed the pot down onto the table, fearing that she'd throw up again if she stared at it too long.

"Alicent, I'm so sorry you had to bear witness to that," Jesmyn quavered, reclining against the sofa and clutching her stomach. "You as well, Sir Criston," she added, looking over to him.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Alicent stated.

"I must go," Jesmyn announced shakily, dabbing the corners of her mouth with the inside of her wrist. "Arrangements need to be made," she informed, standing up.

The abrupt movement caused stars to dance in front of her eyes. Jesmyn’s hand shot out to grip the back of the sofa chair to steady herself, feeling her heart rate speed up.

"Jesmyn?"

She waved her hand dismissively, "I'm fine," Jesmyn assured, with a tight smile despite exhaustion creeping over her.

"Are you sure, Lady Hightower?" Criston questioned.

"I said I’m fine Sir Criston!" Jesmyn repeated sharply, releasing her grip from the couch and righting herself.

Taking a few steps forward, Jesmyn felt herself sway on her feet while her sight became strangely blurred. She blinked in rapid succession, blood pounding wildly in her ears and drowning out all sounds around her. Unsteadily, she moved forward again, however this time Jesmyn could no longer feel the floor beneath her feet. The room began to spin right before Jesmyn's eyes, rendering her sense of direction completely null. Darkness crept around the edges of her blurred vision, forcing her to close her eyes and orient herself. It was a misguided action to take.

Once her eyes shut, her knees buckled beneath her sending her collapsing to the floor.

~~~x~~~

Jesmyn awoke with a start, her eyes snapping open as a startled gasp escaped her. Wildly, her eyes darted around in confusion and panic as she took in her surroundings. A few seconds passed before Jesmyn realized she was in her bed within her new quarters, safe. Squeezing her eyes shut, Jesmyn exhaled heavily and rubbed her hand over her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, Alicent stood just inches away from the foot of her bed.

"Gods!" Jesmyn exclaimed, her body jolting with fright.

"Apologies, I didn't intend to scare you," Alicent said gently. "I heard rustling from within here, and came to check on you," she explained.

Carefully, Jesmyn pushed herself up from the bed and leaned back against the headboard.

"What happened?" Jesmyn asked, blinking and rubbing her eyes once more.

"You fainted," Alicent answered, looking over her in concern. "It all happened so quickly, you were unsteady on your feet, then you just crumbled to the floor. I don’t know what was worse, seeing you collapse or hearing it. Scared Ser Criston and I to death,"

Jesmyn's hand shot down to her stomach, "My baby—""

"Is just fine," Alicent cut in reassuringly. "Maester Mellos assured me as much," she answered, causing Jesmyn to let a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling now?" Alicent questioned.

"A bit dizzy, still," Jesmyn replied, turning her head to look out the window to see the sun was beginning to set. "I could only imagine what your father would say if he witnessed my fainting spell," she remarked, a small grin creeping on her lips.

"Probably forbid you from ever leaving the bed and have you waited on hand and foot" she joked, and the girls shared a laugh with each other.

Jesmyn faced Alicent again, "By the Seven, Otto's fussing over could be unbearable, but now that he’s no longer at court with me, I'll miss it more than I thought possible," she admitted, her mood turning solemn and dropping her stare down at her hands.

"And it's my fault," she thought.

A frown creased her forehead, "Has she heard about the incident, the princess?" Jesmyn spat out, disdain dripping from each word.

"She has, but I had a handmaiden to relay the message that you are not to be disturbed, maester’s orders," Alicent answered, with a half smirk.

"Good," Jesmyn said, nodding to herself. "I don't know how I will bring myself to assist Rhaenyra with all the festivities for her wedding this week, let alone, the opening feast tomorrow," she commented, her eyes narrowing.

"So don't," Alicent responded simply, making Jesmyn raise her head in shock.

"What do you mean, don't?" Jesmyn repeated, brows furrowing.

Alicent moved to stand by her bedside, "We'll discuss it further tomorrow, when you're better," she said, bending down to give a quick peck on Jesmyn's cheek.

~~~x~~~

Lords and Ladies from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms flocked to King's Landing to celebrate the wedding of the two most powerful Houses in Westeros, the Targaryens and the Velaryons. The joyous festivities commenced with a grand feast, promising a night full of dancing, drinking, and merriment. However, these feelings were not shared by all.

In silence, two young women walked the halls of the Red Keep side by side. For Jesmyn, everything was numb and nothing felt real. She walked daze like through the halls, following the noises from the throne room. Almost a decade long of friendship and good will, gone within a blink of an eye. All from one, little half lie. A lie which Rhaenyra allowed to leave her lips effortlessly.

"The ceremony is beginning," Alicent noted, rousing Jesmyn from her stupor.

Standing in front of throne room, Jesmyn could hear Viserys' echoing voice behind the massive doors.

She looked to Alicent, "We've discussed this for hours on end, but now that the moment's here I find myself rather nervous," Jesmyn admitted.

"Don't be," Alicent insisted, turning to face Jesmyn. "Princess Rhaenyra has made it crystal clear where her loyalties lie," she reminded, her eyes hardening. "It's time we do the same," she declared quietly.

Jesmyn glanced down to both of their gowns they donned for the evening, green like the beacon of Hightower.

"We will certainly turn heads that's for sure," Jesmyn stated, a slight chuckle escaping her.

"Head high," Alicent ordered gently, using her finger to lightly lift up Jesmyn's chin. "What are we?" Alicent questioned, allowing a small grin to form on her lips.

"We're Hightower women," Jesmyn answered confidently, with a smirk.

"And what do we do?"

"We light the way,"

Holding each other's stare, Alicent and Jesmyn nodded their heads in unison.

"Shall we?" Jesmyn asked, holding her arm out.

"With pleasure," Alicent responded confidently, linking her arm with Jesmyn's. "Open the doors!" she demanded, staring ahead at the guards.

With a low creak, Jesmyn could see a sliver of the throne room and at the center of it stood Viserys, still giving his speech.

"Reaching back to the old days of Old Valyria and the Age of Dragons. With House Targaryen and H-" Viserys cut himself off mid sentence, as the sound of the doors opening drew his attention ahead.

Every courtier followed his gaze to the doors where Alicent and Jesmyn stood arm in arm. Instantly, murmurs filled the room as everyone rose to their feet, Hightower being one of the first houses to do so. The two of them were the essence of grace as they made their way deeper into the hall. Jesmyn dared glance in Rhaenyra's direction to see her subtly horrified expression, Jesmyn told a lie of her own this day; that she was too unwell to assist and attend the feast tonight. When truthfully, she wished to be as far away as possible from the princess. Jesmyn kept her face neutral. Her eyes were detached, scornful, but she was more composed than she had been for the past 48 hours, albeit without her typical jovialness.

Jesmyn passed her family's table, catching the stares of her family members. Curiosity was in all their eyes, they were well aware how close Jesmyn had been with Rhaenyra. So, for her to be making such a bold move with Alicent, who was draped in Hightower green they knew something must of went down. Jesmyn met her parent's stare, silently telling them, we'll speak later.

Approaching the Hightower table, Jesmyn smoothly removed her arm from Alicent's and seemingly glided over to where Hobert stood. A proud smirk on his lips, Hobert bows his heads to Alicent along with several members of the table. To Jesmyn's surprise, her good brother extended this gesture towards her as well which she happily returned.

"Hobert," Jesmyn greeted quietly.

"Good sister," he responded, extending his hand out to help her sit.

Once Alicent was seated at the table, Viserys began to resume his speech which Jesmyn and Alicent had interrupted with their dramatic entrance, but it was apparent he could not remember where he had left off. It wasn’t until Lord Lyonel Strong slightly leaned over to Viserys that he remembered his train of thought.

"With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united," Viserys continued, "I hope to herald a second Age of Dragons in Westeros," he proclaimed, which received applause along with some banging on the tables. "And after tonight's small affair," he joked, causing laughter to echo in the room. "Seven days of tournament and feasting – and at the end of it all – a royal wedding between my daughter and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark,"

Applause thundered across the hall once more and shortly thereafter, Rhaenyra and Laenor's first dance followed. All eyes were glued the couple as the beating of drums echoed in the hall, taking Rhaenyra's outstretched hand Laenor began their dance with one another.

"Good brother," Jesmyn called lowly, and Hobert shifted his attention to her. "Might you have room for a wheelhouse of three on the trip back home?" she asked curiously.

"Don't you mean four, good sister?" he corrected softly, with a small grin which Jesmyn shared.

When the dance was finished, lords and ladies flocked to the dance floor to join in with the dancing as well. Meanwhile, Jesmyn was on her feet to mainly stretch her legs, but it quickly turned into Hobert proudly showing her off to the rest of the Hightower's at their table.

"There's another son of Oldtown growing within her, I'm confident!" Hobert exclaimed, beaming happily at the thought.

In the most bizarre turn of events, Hobert's and Jesmyn's relationship had actually blossomed due to the birth of the twins. The way the older man incessantly pestered her about having children, people would think she was married to him and not his younger brother. Looking back now, Jesmyn realized all he truly wanted was nieces and nephews to spoil, but gods above, he could've been so less cruel about it.

She laughed, "My stomach is hanging low," Jesmyn remarked, holding the bump.

"No, it’s going to be a girl this time around!" a female cousin disagreed, eyes gleaming at the thought. "Twin girls!" she added excitedly.

"Otto would faint," Jesmyn replied, another laughing bubbling out of her.

"Yes, and he wouldn't be the only one," Hobert stated humorously.

A chorus of laughter rang out from the Hightower table and from the corner of her eye, Jesmyn saw Alicent approaching them. For the first time that night, Jesmyn saw a genuine smile on Alicent's face as she walked towards her uncle. Bowing before her, Hobert lightly grasped her arms and bore a proud grin once more.

"Thank you for coming, uncle," Alicent said, happily greeting him.

"I worried that given leave of your father's shadow, you might wither in King's Landing's sun. But, I see that you stand tall. Know that Oldtown stands with you," Hobert declared, and Alicent with nodded a tiny smirk at his words. "I see you even managed to talk some sense into Jesmyn about returning home," he mentioned, making the vein Jesmyn's forehead throb.

"Oh, I didn’t—"

"Hobert, I was just beginning to grow fond of you, until now," Jesmyn bantered, but also was half serious.

"My daughter jests, she was taught to never hold grudges," Lord Clarick stated, from behind her.

"Wait until I tell you about the antics Rhaenyra's been up to recently, that will surely make you rethink that lesson," Jesmyn thought.

She spun around, "Father!" Jesmyn greeted happily, walking towards him with her arms outstretched.

Grinning, Lord Clarick brings her into a careful hug feeling her growing belly against him.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Jesmyn. The Queen told me that you collapsed yesterday," Lord Clarick said, with a small frown as he took a hold of her hands.

"I'm fine Father, a combination of tiredness and a little nausea from traveling to Driftmark and back," Jesmyn lied, squeezing his hands to reassure him.

"Speaking of The Queen," he began, his voice dropping so only she could hear him. "What was—"

Suddenly, screams pierced the air in the hall, causing Jesmyn to flinch before whipping her head to the dance floor.

She stepped away from Lord Clarick, "What’s going on?" Jesmyn asked, panic in her question.

Then, the crowd started scattering like rats from the area where scream originated and the throne room was plunged into absolute chaos. Bumping and shoving quickly ensued as the mass attempt by courtiers to run toward the exit led to people being trampled on. Jesmyn was just barely able to react in time to protect herself and her baby. With the crowd jostling around her, she was pushed further and further away from her father and Hobert. Frantically looking around through the sea of bodies, she managed to catch the eyes of Hobert who was next to a younger Hightower cousin.

"Hobert!" Jesmyn screamed, terror in her eyes as she protectively pressed her arm against her stomach.

Hobert looked at the young man and pointed to her, immediately he fought his way over to her. Strong arming his way through, he scooped her up as if she was light as a feather and began carrying her to safety. Jesmyn searched the crowd from her new vantage point, still trying to determine what caused all this, but even from the shoulders of her cousin, she couldn't see.

However, despite the madness that enveloped the throne room, a single thought arose in Jesmyn's mind, pushing out all others.

"This disastrous wedding is nothing less than what Rhaenyra deserves,"

~~~x~~~

A few days later

Servants hurried about to and from, carrying trunks of various sizes to the many wheelhouses that lined the courtyard of the Red Keep. At the center of this tempest activity stood Jesmyn, being seen off by two members of the royal family.

"I do wish you would stay, but I think being among family and friends in Oldtown will do well for you and the babe," Alicent said, a smile gracing her features. "And the little ones too," she added, giving Vanesha's button nose a playful squeeze.

Squealing in laughter, Vanesha squirmed around in her older sister's arms.

"I couldn’t agree more, my Queen," Jesmyn responded, mirroring Alicent's expression. "It's been too long since I been in Oldtown. Despite our quarrel, I know having the twins home will bring your father the much needed joy after everything that has transpired," she commented, as Alicent handed Vanesha off to the waiting handmaiden to take her.

"You'll write me the moment you're safely inside Hightower, yes?" Alicent questioned earnestly.

"Was there ever a doubt?" Jesmyn asked back humorously. Her eyes slid to Criston, who stood protectively next to Alicent's side. "Ser Criston, I trust you will look after our Queen with my departure? True friends are so difficult to find in these times," she mentioned.

Criston bowed his head, "You have my word, Lady Hightower," he promised, a ghost of smirk on his face.

With a smile, Jesmyn moved away from Alicent and Criston and towards Rhaenyra who stood with her new sworn shield, Harwin Strong. Sauntering purposefully over to the princess, the pebbles in courtyard crunched underneath Jesmyn's shoes. Even with the flurry of activity around them, the strident noise pierced the air in the otherwise noisy courtyard.

Standing in front Rhaenyra, Jesmyn had gone from cheerful to stoic in a split second.

"Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn greeted curtly, curtsying to her.

"It pains me to see you go. I was so looking forward to our spent together as my lady in waiting Jesmyn," Rhaenyra said diplomatically, and Jesmyn involuntarily quirked an eyebrow at the use of her name.

"Yes, well, after having some time to reconsider my decision following that nasty business that occurred at your wedding feast, I've come to realize something," Jesmyn stated, peering down at Rhaenyra with an expressionless stare. "Without my Lord Husband, I find King's Landing an ill-suited environment to raise my children, so many unsavory characters here at court. It would be ashamed if they were tainted by proximity," she asserted, her eyes boring into Rhaenyra's who subtly shrank underneath their gaze.

Jesmyn let Rhaenyra suffer under her withering stare a few seconds longer before clearing her throat and removing her arms from underneath her cloak. In her hands, Jesmyn held an object slightly larger than both of her palms put together.

"I do have a gift for you though, Princess Rhaenyra," Jesmyn informed, keeping the object face down. "Something for you to remember me by in my absence here," she finished, finally the presenting the gift to Rhaenyra.

With its face up, Jesmyn held the finished embroidery of the High Tower of Oldtown, its beacon lit.

[crybaby-bkg]

I smell roses on your neck

Choso x reader Synopsis: While running from your toxic ex boyfriend, you stay at a small motel in an even smaller town. There, you meet Choso, seemingly the only worker there, who also, coincidentally never seems to sleep, either. He's nice for the most part, if not a little weird due to the fact that he's a vampire. Warnings: unedited bc I feel like poo 😭, vampire choso so vampy things of that nature such as biting, blood drinking, murder (not to reader!), reader receives oral sex and there is blood involved but not period sex, unprotected sex, riding, abusive unnamed ex boyfriend and I think that's all. please let me know if I missed anything and please enjoy!! Word Count: 10k Minors/blank/ageless blogs DNI! Also available on Ao3

When it started to absolutely downpour, you could only sigh quietly to yourself with a shake of your head. It was late, your car was running out of gas, and there wouldn’t be another gas station for a few more miles. Fuck, why did everything have to go so wrong so quickly? If you just had a couple more days to prepare, to pack your bags, to leave without him ever seeing you, you wouldn’t be in the shitshow you’re in now. 

Your ex was a bit…clingy. Fuck that, he was an insecure, manipulative, controlling piece of shit and you were tired of it. After years and years of putting up with his shit, isolating yourself from everyone you’ve ever known, messing up every relationship with too many people, you finally decided to put your foot down. Get your shit, sneak out quietly in the night, start afresh in a new town with the money you, perhaps, hypothetically speaking, drained from his account. 

Except that he had come flying home the moment you took a single cent from his account, catching you in the middle of loading your car. There was a fight, there were tears on his end, eye rolls on yours, before he began screaming and threatening you. You had managed to escape when a concerned neighbor came out to your aid, and you flew down the street of the suffocating neighborhood he had kept you in. 

He gave chase for a little bit, and you realize that he knew where you were due to the tracker you’re pretty sure he put on your phone. So you chucked that out of the window, stopped a few towns over to liquidize all of the money in your account, insistent on carrying untraceable cash. 

It had done you some good for the first week, but the money was already starting to dwindle (fuck inflation, honestly). So you find yourself, now, at two in the morning looking for anything that’ll help you in the current moment. 

And almost like some forgotten god heard your prayer, you see the flashing lights of a motel just a quarter of a mile ahead. You lower your head in thanks, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you start to veer off in the direction of the motel. It didn’t have to be perfect; as long as it was cheap and there weren’t any weird Bates Motel shenanigans going on, that was fine with you. 

Pulling up to the motel, the first thing you note is how vacant it is. There’s only one other car in the parking lot, and you’re not sure if thats for the employee or another customer. The emptiness should alarm you that something must be amiss, but you’re too tired, too run down, finally out of adrenaline, to care much. You grab your bags, two stuffed to capacity, and your purse before hopping out of your car, locking it behind you. You try to peek in at through the shabby blinds of the first-most area, where the receptionist desk resides, but its hard with how the rain begins to pour down even harder. You can’t see much beyond the silhouette of a single person sitting behind the desk, and you can only hope that they don’t hit your head too much in pricing. 

You dart into the receptionist area, cold and wetted by the rain, your hair a mess, the cold instantly seeping through your clothes. You wipe your face a few times to clear the rain, setting your luggage down by the front door when you finally look up. You’re greeted by a single man behind the desk, who stood the moment you slammed the door behind you. He’s tall, his form slightly lanky by the way he curves in on himself. His skin is pale and his eyes are dark, rings circling them, a thick tattooed line across his nose, his black hair pulled back into a bun at the base of his scalp. 

His thin eyebrows dart up at the sight of you, but he doesn’t move to help you. Just keeps staring at the way rainwater clings to your lashes, the hollow of your throat with every shake breath you take from your run from the car, how you clutch your purse tighter under your arm. Something about him unnerves you, and you don’t know if its because you’re here all alone in the middle of the night with this silent stranger, or if its something deeper, something primal, that’s telling you to run. 

“Hello,” you greet first, taking a tentative step toward the front desk that the man stands behind. “Are any rooms available?” 

The man, Choso, his name tag reads, doesn’t say anything for a long while. Just continues to stare at you with this almost wide eyed look. He inhales deeply once, twice, licking his lips before he glances down at the sign in book in front of him. He picks up a pen in a lone cup, sliding it toward you with a nod of his head. 

“Yes, we have available rooms.” He says, clipped, short, before he takes a step back, digging at something under the desk. You frown, wondering if the rainwater’s made you stink already, smell of mold and mildew. But you shake it off, gripping your purse a little tighter under your arm as you step up until you’re right at the front desk to look down at the sign-in book in front of you. 

“How many?” Choso asks, suddenly right across from you, when you could’ve sworn that he had started to venture toward the back office. Your head whips in surprise, his dark, plum eyes staring right into yours. It takes you aback for a second, the intensity of his gaze, how it seems he hasn’t blinked since you stepped foot into the lobby. You let out a nervous little giggle, feeling a little delirious from your lack of sleep over the past week. 

As you stare at the dark haired man, he raises a single eyebrow in question, glancing down to the book in front of you. You realize he had asked you a question and shake your head, a tinge embarrassed at how you were surveying him so unabashedly. 

“How many what?” You ask with a cock of your head, twiddling with the pen in your hands. Should you sign now? Should you wait? Do you pay first? Gods, you wished he would speak more instead of just looking at you with that inquisitive look, his eyebrows drawn and his mouth tight. 

“How many will be staying in the room?” He clarifies, his gaze fixed on your eyes, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, the softness of your jaw. He takes you in, quietly, observationally, as if he were trying to memorize each and every line of your face. It makes you fidget where you stand, wonder if you should lie, say a friend is joining you, your husband, some lie that you’re not alone. 

But maybe you’re just being ridiculously paranoid after dealing with such a control freak for so goddamn long, that you’re wary of any and everybody. Chewing your lip for a second as you consider what you should tell the front desk worker, he takes in the silkiness of your mouth, your pink tongue that darts out to lick where your teeth had just dug into. He swallows thickly, inhaling once more when you flutter your eyes up to his own, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. 

“Just me,” you admit quietly, hope you’re not sealing your own death sentence, that you won’t end up with some shitty movie about your life of trusting the motel worker who eventually killed you. But instead of leering at you, of trying to advance from behind the desk, snatch you, Choso simply nods and gestures to the open book in front of you. 

“Please put your information down. Will you be paying with cash or card?” He asks smoothly, as he takes a few steps away from the desk to a little further where you can’t much see. You hear the jangle of keys and he emerges from the darkness that shadows the lobby holding up a key for you. You quickly sign your name in the book and put the date down, before you look up at the worker once more. 

“Cash. How much is a night’s stay?” You ask him, already starting to dig around in your purse for the money. 

“Forty per night.” He states, his voice low and quiet, almost drowned out by the pitter patter of rain against the roof of the building. You pause as you try to do the math in your head; this place is as cheap as you’re sure you’ll get, so you should stay here a little longer, right? At least a week, and you can scout the area out, find a new phone, look for some apartments to rent nearby, and you’ll only be spending about two-eighty for the time being, not including food. You can manage, you’re pretty sure. 

“I’ll just pay for the week.” You mumble, counting the cash in hand before sliding it over to Choso. His hands are thin, fingers long, the pale skin seemingly luminescent in the darkness of the room. He doesn’t count the cash after he picks it up, just slides all of the twenties into a single drawer. Only then does he slide the keys over to you, his finger lingering on the cool metal before he releases them, when you snatch them up. 

“You’re in Room 2. Enjoy your stay.” Choso says, his voice dropping into something low, makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You nod to him in thanks, trying to scurry out of there as soon as possible, but you’re stopped when he’s suddenly beside you again. You jump back with a small yelp, your eyes big as you blink at him, acutely aware of the fact that he’s now blocking your path to the door. 

“My apologies for scaring you,” he says softly, nodding his head once. “I was just going to take your bags to your room for you.” He motions to your belongings that sit right beside the door, and you realize with a sigh that he wasn’t trying to trap you in the same space. You smile at him, tiny, before waving him off with a hand. 

“Oh, no, its okay. I’ve got it.” You reassure softly, going to pick up your bags when he steps in front of you again, a slight frown on his face. 

“I insist.” He says, voice firm as he picks up your bags in each hand. “It’s raining out, and you wouldn’t want to set these on the ground as you open the door.” 

Choso doesn’t take no for an answer after that, as he opens the door and waits for you to exit. You can only stand there in slight shock at his forwardness, wonder if it was a mistake to stop here and not just sleep in your car for the night. But you bite the bullet, too tired to put up much of a fight and lead him to your room, although you’re sure he doesn’t need much guidance. 

You unlock your door and turn around, ready to take your bags from him, but Choso slides his way into your room, easily and gracefully, as if you hadn’t been standing there at all. You can only sputter at him as he sets your bags down carefully at the foot of your bed, flicking your lamp on that spills a yellowed light into the room before he meets you back at the door. 

“Have a goodnight.” He says, finality lacing his tone, as he makes his way back to the office. You can only stand there in shock at his audacity, before you simply shake your head and walk into your room. You deadbolt the door that night, and put an extra door stopper you had carried with you, just to be safe. 

You collapse onto the too hard bed, spreading out, only able to kick your shoes off before the tiredness of the last week catches up to you. The rain lulls you into a sleep that’s more peaceful than you’ve had in a long time, with dreams of pale skin, violet eyes, and an aura that is all encompassing. 

…

The next day, you start early with getting your life back on track. You peel out of your still soggy clothes with a groan, hop in the shower and take your time getting ready. Your outfit of the day is simple, and you’re ready to go, when you realize that you don’t know jack shit about the town you’ve stopped in. But you quickly decide that asking Choso, as he seems to be the only soul around, is your best option for the time being. 

He’s still there, as if he never left the previous night. He’s already looking at you by the time you enter, like he heard you from the moment you first closed the door to your room. He cocks his head in question at you, as he stands from his seat to greet you. 

“You’ve been here all night?” You ask him, expecting there to have been a shift change. But Choso only nods once, his fingers curled on the desk beneath him as he knocks his knuckles against the dingy wood. 

“Yeah,” he says softly. “My coworker is out sick at the moment.”

“Oh,” you frown, glancing around the bare space. “What happens if you have an emergency and have to leave?” Choso only shrugs at you. 

“There won’t be.” He says, his tone final, leaves no room for extra questions. You just glance at his hard stare, how he takes every piece of you in, inhales deep before letting out the air through his soft looking lips. 

“What can I help you with?” He asks when you stand there quietly for another few beats of silence. You perk up at the question, remembering why you even left your room in the first place. 

“A few things, actually.” You say, before rattling off all the places you need to go and find; a gas station, somewhere you can buy a new phone, a grocery or convenience store, clothing stores. Choso writes all the places down for you and their addresses on a piece of paper, his handwriting light and thin and cursive, a lot better than your chicken scratch, and you’re on your way after that. 

The gas station is, thankfully, not too far, and you’re able to get a full tank of gas before your car completely breaks down on you. There’s a convenience store right around the corner from there, and you do a bit of grocery shopping, stocking up on a lot of snacks and instant meals for when you don’t want to leave out of your motel room. 

From there, you spend the day shopping, a bit of a fuck you to your ex and all the money he’s been hoarding, despite telling you that he didn’t have enough to get you the nice things he would promise emptily to you. You don’t go crazy though, aware that the money is bound to run out, but that you’ll have a job and a place to stay soon enough to earn everything back. 

By the time you’re pulling back up to the motel, you take note of the diner just across the street. You were too tired to pay much mind to it the night before, but now, your stomach growls at the mere sight of it, aware that you hadn’t eaten much today besides a pack of noodles in the convenience store. You pull up in the spot right in front of your room, unloading your bags for the day, tucking in the new phone you had just purchased into your back pocket all the while. While it wasn’t the latest phone, it managed well enough. 

You’re finished loading up your room with your belongings, when you close and lock the door behind you, ready to step over to the dinner, when you catch a glimpse of Choso about to enter into the front office. He catches your eye and nods once to you in greeting, one foot in the door, when you get an impulsive idea you’re sure you’re going to regret later on down the road. 

“Hey,” you call out to him, making him pause in his movements to turn toward you. “Wanna join me for dinner?” His whole body freezes before his eyebrows turn down in question, his body shifting toward you as he comes the door to lean against it. 

“I thought you went to the convenience store?” Choso asks, glancing over to your car where your empty cup of noodles still sits on the dash in front of the passenger seat. You only shrug at him, fiddling with your fingernails as you take him in in the light of day. His clothes are baggy on his tall form, as he adorns a cream colored hoodie with a logo you don’t recognize on the front despite the heat of the day, a pair of black sweats, thick sneakers, and a baseball cap that shadows most of his face. Just looking at him makes sweat start to trickle down the back of your neck, or maybe its the way he seems to keep licking his lips long enough at the sight of you? 

You shake away the thought, stuffing your hands in the back pockets of your jean shorts as you nod your head over to the diner. 

“Yeah, I did.” You reply softly, turning your body to face his the same way he does to you. “Still doesn’t mean I feel like cooking, though.” You say cheekily, smiling at him all the while. But he doesn’t reciprocate the action, instead seemingly frowns more at you, as he shoves his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie, eyes glancing from you, the diner, to the chair he must always sit in behind the front desk. 

“Uh, I don’t know. I still have to man the front desk.” Choso says, his voice unsure, as he tilts his head at you. Your skin seemingly glistens in the softness of the setting sun, pinks and oranges casting a slight hue to your skin, to the veins in your neck, to the swell of your plump bottom lip that curves into a smile once more. 

“Be real, Choso.” You roll your eyes at him, saying his name for the first time since you’ve met, unaware of how the sound of it rolling off of your tongue physically pains him like no other.  “No one’s coming anytime soon. And if they do, we can get a seat near the window so you can watch the front door.” 

You’re not sure why you’re trying to persuade him to eat with you. You don’t even know the guy, just barely met him less than twenty-four hours ago. But its something about him that interests you as much as it unnerves you. Maybe its a piece of you that wants to better understand why he seems to call you into him like a siren enticing a man, as he simultaneously makes every ounce of hair on your body stand at attention. 

Choso just stands there for a while, his heavy lidded eyes so low as he rakes his gaze up and down your body. He seems to be contemplating his next words, makes you want to shrivel up on the inside, take back everything you’ve said to him in the last few minutes. 

“Why are you asking me out to dinner?” He finally asks after a while, his head tilted to the side just so. You shuffle on your feet, feeling suddenly so exposed, so wide open to why you really crave the presence of a man you barely know. 

“Because, I hate to admit this, but I would like some company.” You utter softly, a faint smile on your face as you start to bare yourself to this strange man, ever so slightly. “Can’t remember the last time I got to sit down with someone that actually could fucking stand to be around, and just eat. Plus, you seem lonely cooped up in here all day and night.” You tease him, winking once, as he laughs softly through his nose, just a simple gust of air. When he doesn’t say anything, you hold a hand up, backtracking. 

“You don’t have to join me though, its fine.” You tack on, body turning away from him as you get ready to haul ass with your tail tucked between your legs. You hadn’t made the first move with anyone in so long, so used to your ex always being so overbearing, taking without ever asking, considering your feelings. Used to every relationship you’ve ever had with anyone in your life slowly dissipating into nothing, so reaching out first has become foreign on your tongue like an undiscovered language. 

“No—no, I think I’d actually like that.” Choso says, stops you in your tracks when you turn to leave. Your face lights up instantly at the barest hint of his smile, your own cracking your face as you turn to him once more. The blue and red neon lights of the diner across the street make him look even paler in the setting sun’s light, cast an almost eerie glow to the darkness of his eyes, the soft slope of his nose. 

“Really?” You ask in disbelief before gesturing him to the diner across the street when he nods once. “Great. C’mon then.” 

You both walk in silence as you cross the street. Choso holds a hand out in front of you when you go to cross, unaware of a quickly speeding car. He stops you, gently, before placing a hand on your back to urge you forward when the roads are clear. Your face is warm at the feeling of his cold, large palm still placed on the expanse of your back, and try not to deflate when he pulls away to open the door for you. 

You’re seated instantly in the damn near empty diner, which isn’t much of a surprise to you. Your waitress is an older lady who looks a little warily at Choso before she turns to you, taking both of your orders down. She scurries away as soon as your order leaves your lips, and you fix Choso with a questioning look that he only shrugs at. You two sit in silence for a few beats, before your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“So,” you start as you fold your hands together on the table, resting your chest on them as you look at Choso from under your lashes. “What’s your story?”

He only cocks an eyebrow to you in question, as he leans back in his squeaky seat. He shifts again, arms folded in front of himself, as he twists his mouth this way and that. His eyes, shadowed by thick black lashes, take you in, his gaze slow, predatory. You shiver in your seat.

“What do you mean?” He asks after a while, his head tilted to the side. You shrug, sitting back when the waitress comes fluttering back to your table and sets your milkshake and burger and fries down in front of you, and Choso’s lone soda in front of him.

“You know,” you mutter around a fry, gaze on the table between you two, feeling as though it’s an entire world apart. Something about him feels so…out of reach, like he’s somehow floating above you by merely sitting in your presence, like you’ll always be his inferior. But the way he smiles so faintly at you, urging you to continue talking, yanks him down to sitting right in front of you; normal; human.

“Who are you?” You ask with a shrug as you pick up your burger. “Where did you come from? What are your parents like; do you have any siblings; how old are you; how’d you end up with a job in a town like this?”

Choso sits there for a long while, his hands still stuffed in his pockets. You look at the soda in front of him that he still hasn’t taken a sip of, and he finally does at your look. Leans forward, wraps pale pink lips around the clear straw, suck just the tiniest bit. He licks the dribble of it from his bottom lip when he pulls away, and you look away guiltily when he clears his throat ever so softly.

“Those are a lot of questions.” Is all he says after a few beats of silence. You snort with a roll of your eyes, drinking your milkshake as you narrow your eyes at him.

“Question for a question?” You offer, but Choso only raises an eyebrow for further elaboration. “You ask me a question and I’ll answer, and in return I get to ask you a question that you’ll answer.”

At that, Choso seemingly considers your offer, but he ultimately shakes his head at you. You try not to deflate too visibly, your fries suddenly soggy in your mouth.

“I’ll answer your questions, but I only have one for you.” Choso says, his voice velvet under the rickety crooning from the old jukebox in the corner of the diner. You perk up at that, eyebrows raised in question as you nod to him, pulling your milkshake over to sip from.

“Go right ahead,” you nod to him, pushing your drink away as you fold your hands on the table once more to give him your full attention. Choso mirrors your position, his thin brows pulling down as he frowns at you, makes your heart begin to sink at just the sight.

“What are you running from?” He asks, his tone dropping as he leans in even closer to you. You freeze at that, heart suddenly in your throat as an image of your furious ex chasing you down the highway emerge in the forefront of your mind. You swallow thickly, the food in your belly suddenly souring at the thought.

With the corners of your mouth pulling down, do you push away your plate. Choso glances at it, but his gaze remains locked on you for the time being. You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you ponder your answer, try to figure out the best and simplest way to put it.

“Not so much of a what, really, as a who.” You start, settling back in your seat as you begin to fiddle with your hangnails. “My ex boyfriend was a piece of shit, plain and simple. Controlling; manipulative; insecure; jealous. I got tired of his bullshit and isolation, drained his account and ran for the hills.”

It feels good to admit, even if you’re technically incriminating yourself of theft. But you sigh, slumping into your seat as you snatch a fry from your plate, chewing a little too aggressively. But Choso’s deep chuckle pulls you out of your stupor of what you’ve done, and when you look to him, it’s the first time you’ve seen an actual grin on his face, white teeth on display and all.

“Admirable.” Choso states plainly, tipping his head to you. Before you can ask him to elaborate, he starts to rattle off what you soon realizes is answers to your previous questions.

“My name is Choso Kamo. I grew up in a lonely house with my father and four brothers, and when I became of age, I fled. I do, however, still regret leaving my little brother behind, but I thought it was best at that moment.” A melancholy kind of look crosses his face for a brief second, before he gazes back up to you, his hands splayed on the table in between you two.

“My father was an asshole, never knew my mother. Been on my own for a long while now, and I guess I never believed I could go much farther in life than an overnight job as a motel clerk.” Choso pauses there, and you both know that there’s still a lingering question that he has not answered yet. When he doesn’t seem to cough it up, do you ask once more.

“And your age?” You murmur around your straw, soft lips wrapped around warm plastic. Choso licks his own lips at the sight before he glances up to meet your eyes.

“I’ve been twenty-seven for a while now.” He answers after a beat too long, the response raising one too many red flags in your mind. But you don’t pry, only share your own information in return, even though he never asked.

“Do you have a partner?” You ask when the night runs late, and you’ve had two milkshakes now, and he’s still on that same soda from earlier. Does his mouth not run dry with all the talking you two have been doing? Choso only shakes his head, mouth pursed as he tucks a stray raven-black lock behind his ear.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone.” He murmurs, eyes lowered before they meet your own once more, his gaze shifted, his look predacious. “Is that question for your own personal sake, to know whether or not you should flirt with me?”

The question catches you off guard so much that you bark out a laugh. A few lingering patrons look over their shoulder at your loudness, and you feel your face begin to heat up in embarrassment. You cover your face with your hands, smiling, before you flip him the bird. You hear the softest chuckle emit from his thin mouth.

“Am I that obvious?” You question jokingly before running a hand down your face to settle into your lap. “No, I’m just curious. Didn’t know how you’d manage with a partner if you’re cooped up in that motel lobby twenty-four-seven.”

At that, Choso shrugs. He sinks back into his seat as he stuffs his hands into his hoodie pockets, his joking demeanor diminishing second by second. His eyes get this glazed over look, the black line across his nose scrunching ever so slightly when he furrows his brows. His face becomes contemplative, and you wonder if you’ve unknowingly crossed a line. You reach out to take back your words, but Choso speaks before you can.

“It’s not a lifestyle everyone can easily adjust to.” He says softly, his eyes sharp, focused on the condensation that slides down the second milkshake you’ve acquired. His words feel packed with something deeper, something you’re not sure you’ll ever truly wrap your mind around. But you’d like to find out.

You go to ask him what he means, what this lifestyle entails, if you’d be able to adjust, to join him, but he stands before you can. Declares that he’s going to pay the tab, despite you trying to refuse. He steps off before you can, leaving you sitting there with a twisting feeling in your gut, your hands wringing in front of you.

Choso walks you to your doorstep afterwards. He’s gotten quiet since he paid for dinner, and you feel guilty for getting so much while he only had a barely sipped on soda.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say slowly, your door ajar as you pull your key out, gaze low on his face, around his soft mouth. “I needed that.”

You don’t specify what you mean, but he seems to understand either way. Choso nods at you, hands shoved in his pockets as he begins to back away.

“Anytime.” He promises, never turning his back until you nod at him in return. You step into your room, pausing when he calls your name once. You look over your shoulder, hopeful of—of something more, hopeful for the night to not end just yet.

“Call me if you need anything, yeah?” Is all Choso says. You deflate ever so slightly before you nod once more, scurrying into your room, embarrassed of the hope that was surely bleeding into your eyes.

You go through the motions of getting unready from the day, stepping in the shower, putting on the new pajamas you brought from the store today. You turn on the television, mindlessly watch some new alien sci-fi show on one of the few channels available in the motel rooms.

When that gets boring, do you finally turn off the lamp, turn down the tv, and go to lay in bed. It’s squeaky and hard and uncomfortable, but it’s the best you can get at the moment, you suppose. You just wished these rooms had beds that had just a bit more of a spring to them.

You pause. An idea pops into your head that might be a terrible one, but you’ve been much bolder since you liquified your exes account and ran off with everything in tow. So you roll over on your side until you can grasp the lone telephone on the nightstand by the bed, dialing the number to the front desk. He picks up on the first ring.

“Hello?” Choso’s voice is pure sin over the phone, a low kind of rasp that makes impure thoughts run through your head. You squeeze your eyes shut when he calls out your name, wonder how he knew it was you just from your breathing.

“I need you.” You say simply, voice breathy, soft. Choso doesn’t respond for a long while, and before you know it, he hangs up. You don’t have time to feel much embarrassment or frustration when there’s a knock on your door, one that you quickly answer.

He stands there, his stature unnervingly still, as if he waits for a simple command to bleed from your lips. You only gesture him in, arms wrapped around your body as you realize your state of undress, clad in only a knee length nightgown, damn near see through.

Choso’s thick lashes flutter when you unwrap your arms from yourself, closing the door roughly behind him with a kick of his thick boot. You instead place your arms around his neck, gently, wordlessly. His skin is cold against the warmth of your own, makes goosebumps raise along the flesh.

His gaze is unending, the violet in his eyes swirling, fighting against devouring you. He wraps his arms around your waist until your front is pressed directly against his, makes a breath get caught in your throat at the proximity, the eye contact, the shift in the atmosphere around you.

“Kiss me.” You demand, softly, gently, as if the words seal a fate you’ll never be able to return from. And maybe it’s too soon to be kissing other people after such a messy breakup, when you’re still on the run, still in hiding from your ex that wants everything about you back into his wicked claws.

But you can’t be damned to think much about that when Choso lowers his lips to yours, slow, achingly slow. His eyes flutter close only when the soft skin of his lips have skimmed yours, a groan so deep emitting from his chest that it rattles your rib cage where it presses against him. He holds you to him so tightly that you couldn’t escape if you tried, and you don’t think you ever want to leave his embrace, not when he kisses you like this.

All encompassing. Overwhelming. Gentle. Sweet. Too much. Not nearly enough for how much you crave him. There’s an allure to his mouth on yours, makes something primal in you scream, and you’re not sure what message it’s trying to send.

Flee. Stay. Make a home within the confines of his skin. Run for your life. Pull him close. Protect your flesh. Preserve your heart. Meld with him. Become one. Flee. Flee. Flee.

But you find yourself pulling him closer, thighs spreading ever so slightly to allow him to slot his knee between yours. His teeth graze the plumpness of your lips, his hands dip down to cup the globes of your ass, his tongue darting out to taste the whine from your throat.

“Choso,” you whimper out when his knee presses against you just right, your voice breathy. That seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s been put in, making him pull away from you entirely too soon.

Choso takes a step back, untangling himself from you. You’re cold now without him, your nipples hardening at the sudden frigidity that floods the room, the way his face hardens. You reach for him, but Choso only takes another step back and another until his back is against the door. He has a wild look in his eye, cups his hand to his mouth as if in shock at the act of kissing you. Your chest squeezes a little more than you’d like at the subtle regret that lingers on the creases of his mouth. 

“I have to go.” Choso announces suddenly, his face wild, his hands flexing and stretching with every passing second. You step to him, go to ask if he’s okay, if he’s feeling unwell, but he flees from your room before you can. The only thing he leaves in his absence is the crisp bite of the wind when he slams your door shut.

…

You go two days without seeing much of Choso, too busy holed up inside of your room, sulking. You try to look for jobs and apartments that are in your budget all the while as a means to distract yourself from the hurt that still lingers in your chest. 

What had you done wrong? Did he think you were moving too fast, as you had just admitted to running from your ex? Did he fear that he was simply a rebound? 

So many questions wrack your brain as the day bleeds into night, the air unusually cold for it to still be summer. You can only wrap yourself in the thin blanket tucked into your bed, refusing to go to Choso to ask for something extra, something thicker, afraid of how he might look at you. If he might have that same face that he did after he kissed you. The thought makes your throat tighten up in shame, and you dig yourself deeper into the cocoon of your bed. 

You start to doze off after a while, eyelids heavy from scrolling nonstop in your search for a new life, when theres a sudden slam of a car door. It doesn’t bother you much, your eyes briefly opening before they flutter shut once more. Its not until you hear the familiar grating voice of your ex that your eyes fly open, your heart suddenly sinking into the abyss of your belly. 

How? How could he have found you? After you liquified all of the money at some random ATM in a convenience store five towns over, you were sure that there was no trace of you. So how had he caught up to you?

There’s a yell of your name first. You lay as still as humanly possible, despite the fact it feels as though your heart may beat out of your chest, may bulldoze right through your ribcage and roll and splatter on the dirty motel floor beneath you. You barely breathe, a hand cupped over your mouth as if he could hear your very breath if you shuddered too loudly. 

“Cmon, babe!” Your ex’s screeching voice cracks almost maniacally. “I just wanna talk. I’ll forgive you for stealing from me, if you just come back home with me.” 

His voice edges closer. You don’t think he knows which room you’re in, so he tries every room he sees. There are eight, and you’re in the second one. It won’t take him long to realize that the other rooms are empty, save for one more, and you’re sure he’s already spotted your car parked between rooms two and three. Fuck. 

You try not to screech when theres a sudden banging on your door. He calls your name again, loud and unhinged, his voice nearing something that makes primal fear start to curl into your spine, make your body stiff with panic and fear that you’ve been caught, captured, cornered. 

“Just fucking come out already!” He yells, kicking the door so hard you fear that it’ll come flying right off of its hinges. You’re tempted to get up, to just appease him as you’ve always done, when theres suddenly a deeper, much more controlled voice that rings out. 

Choso. Fuck, you don’t want him to get caught in your mess. You knew your ex was crazy, most likely carrying a weapon in order to scare you into going back with him. You couldn’t let Choso get caught up in your bullshit trying to play savior. 

So you spring up from bed as fast as you can, steps as silent as you can manage them, as you peek out from the corner of the dingy curtains, ready to signal Choso to just back off. But instead, you watch the pale man grab your ex by his nape, his nails suddenly much longer than you remember them being, as he begins to drag him around the motel, beyond the front desk. You freeze, mind reeling with a thousand possibilities of what Choso could be doing, what kind of strength he must have to haul your ex off without so much as a single hair out of place. 

You find yourself jerking awake from your own imagination of the horrors your ex might bring upon Choso, despite being the one scuffed at the current moment. You couldn’t put a thing past him. So you throw on your flip flops by the door and a stray jacket, your legs instantly getting goosebumps from your exposed nightgown when you swing open your door. 

You hiss out your exes name first, and then Choso’s, arms wrapped around yourself as you try to bite back a shiver. You don’t see either one of them, and you’re sure that Choso must have dragged your ex to behind the motel. You only hope that the dark haired man isn’t injured too badly. 

You try to creep as quietly as you could around the building, fearing the sight that you might come across, the fight that is bound to have been happening at the current moment. But when you turn the corner, you freeze. Every hair on your body stands at attention, your gut screaming at you that you’re in danger, that you must be prey and that you have to flee to save yourself lest you be forgotten in the belly of the beast that stands in front of you. 

There, Choso holds your ex up by his shoulders, pinning him to the wall of the back of the motel, his mouth on his neck. Choso’s eyes are closed in bliss, as your exes eyes roll into the back of his head, a soundless scream gasping from his mouth as he tries to put up a fight against Choso, his legs kicking uselessly. 

You watch as the life drains from his face, as the tanned skin of his cheeks suddenly becomes devoid of color, his eyes blank, white and lifeless, his body limp. Choso drops him without further preamble, his body falling into a heap on the dirty concrete, his bones crunching from the force of it. At the sound, you can’t help the scream that tumbles from your mouth, instantly alerting Choso of your presence. 

His head whips over to your direction and the only word that comes to mind is predator. His canines are elongated, reach past his bottom lip, his mouth stained in red drips that slither down the curve of his throat. Rivulets of it stain the white of his hoodie, the one he wore to dinner with you the other day, makes you think about how that could’ve been your crimson that creates patterns on the previously untainted material. 

“Don’t be scared,” Choso whispers after a second, holding a hand to you in surrender, his nails curved and yellowed and long. The sight shakes you, makes you take a step back and then another until you’re bolting around the building. You trip over your own feet without ever falling, breath heavy in your chest as you make your way to your room, looking over your shoulder all the while. You don’t see Choso, and you fear that when you turn around, he’ll be there. 

You make it to your room, hands shaking as you grapple with the slipper doorknob, cursing at yourself for taking so fucking long when there was a predator right behind you, lurking, somewhere in the shadows. You rip open the door after what feels like hours, damn near take it off of its hinges, pressing your back to it when you slam it shut. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, gather your nerves as you try to figure out what your next move should be. 

“I’m sorry that you had to witness that.” Choso says suddenly, making a scream rip violently from your throat as you shake all over, eyes wide. He’s in your room, somehow, even though you didn’t see him behind you and he couldn’t have outran you when you took off running and the fucking door was locked behind you. 

“How the fuck did you get in here if I didn’t invite you?” You ask him shakily, body frozen in pure panic against the door, as you blink at him from where he sits on your bed. The bottom half of his face is still bloody, his pale pink lips still painted vermillion, his fangs still resting heavily on his bottom lip. Choso has the nerve to look like a kicked puppy left out in the rain, pathetic and small, despite the fact that you just witnessed him rip away a mans life through a vein in his throat. 

“I own the building, so I technically don’t need permission to enter any of the rooms here,” he mutters, his lip pouted ever so slightly as he looks down at his hands. His nails seem to have retracted, but there’s still faint hints of blood from where it dribbled down your exes open neck, pooled into the cracks and crevices of Choso’s palms. The thought makes a shiver wrack up your spine as you inhale heavily. You try to gather your words, understand what’s going on in front of you, what you just witnessed, what dreams and imaginations from your childhood have actually come to life. 

“So you’re a vampire.” You state more than ask, your words slow, soft, unsure despite the fact that Choso’ fangs have only just now started to slowly retract back into his bloodied mouth. He nods once, his hands folded neatly in his lap as he curls over himself while sitting on your unmade bed, still warm from when you laid in it. 

He doesn’t say anything for a long while as you stand against the door still, body tight and ready to spring into action at any given moment. But Choso just sighs heavily, before he lays back on your bed, his head cushioned by the pillow you just laid on, his hands folded over his stomach. He takes in a deep inhale at the scent that has covered your sheets, and in the darkness of your room, does the pale moonlight make the crimson staining his mouth look like the smear from a kiss from a lover. 

You tiptoe over to him slowly, careful, cautiously until you stand over the bed. Choso looks down at you without moving, your breaths steady, a realization that he hasn’t taken a single breath since you’ve met him, save for the inhales of your scent when you linger close. He holds a hand out after a while, in invitation to you, his nails short, his palms still splattered with blood. Your exes blood. 

You take his hand. Crawl into bed beside him, rest your head on his shoulder and cry more than the moment you realized you were in a shitty, lonely, toxic relationship. He lets you soak his hoodie, his neck, his cold, lifeless neck, and holds you tight to him, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“I hated him,” you confess. “I didn’t feel bad seeing the life drain from him. I was just scared to look someone so bloodthirsty in the eye.”

“I would never hurt you.” Choso says so quickly, his words sure, his voice leveled. 

You’re not sure what to say to his confession, so instead, you kiss him. Taste the coppery tang of blood that stains his mouth, ruins your own. Fit your tongue along the silkiness of his own wet muscle, glide over the smoothness of his gums, goad his fangs to slide out, to join you. Choso moans against your mouth, pulling you closer until you crawl on top of him, his hands linked at the base of your spine before the other sneaks up to hold your skull in large, cold, bloodied hands. 

“Why did you leave me the other day?” You ask him against his mouth, panting, feel the throb between your legs at the way you smear the blood on his mouth everywhere; the angle of his cheek, the tip of his nose, his chin, his jaw. Choso just huffs softly, bringing you back down to his mouth to lick at the inside of your hot cavern, his other hand sliding down to rub over the roundness of your ass, exposed by your hiked up nightgown, jacket thrown away somewhere. 

“I was scared of losing control,” he murmurs, nipping at you with dulled teeth. “Scared that seeing you, tasting you, would make my fangs come out, terrify you.” You pout against him, hips starting a slow grind against his pelvis where you feel the swelling of his cock start to come to life. You gasp against him when he holds you still, angle his hips up until they meet yours through your thin material. 

“Are you scared?” Choso asks, fisting a chunk of your hair in his hands, baring your throat to him, his teeth suddenly sharp as they skim your smooth flesh. Your heart jumps immediately to your throat, in fear, anticipation, lust, worry, desire. 

“Or are you turned on at the sight of your exes blood covering the both of us?” He angles your head back down with his words, puts the crime that he just committed on full display, a tinge of worry lighting the darkness of his eyes. But instead you swallow, cunt starting to throb at the sight, at the lust that bleeds from his very being into you, at the nudge of his mushroomed tip pressing right where you need it most. 

“Both.” 

You fall into each other after that, Choso’s movements entirely too fast for you to keep up with. It makes you dizzy in which the speed that he moves; you’re on your back and he’s on top of you; your shoes are ripped off; his shirt; your gown; his pants; your panties; your hands are choked in his grip above your head; his teeth graze your nipple. 

You feel like you have whiplash, as you cry out at the coldness of his mouth suddenly on your skin, your back arching off of the bed. You want to touch him, reach for him, feel the silkiness of his hair in your grasp, as you fight against his hands. But Choso doesn’t let up, takes his time with licking slowly around your areola until your nipple perts up, hard and stiff. He flicks it with the tip of his tongue, suddenly forked, suddenly warm, suddenly too much. 

He looks up at you through his fringe, through black lashes as he widens his mouth over your breast, his fangs bared, scraping the fat of your tit without ever breaking the skin. You cry out in a mixture of pleasure, maybe pain, your senses confused of all of the sensations at once. He sneaks a hand down between your legs, parts them with the simplest nudge. You let him in, thighs spread wide around him, open, inviting. 

Choso slides down your body slowly, finally releasing your hands that instantly tangle in his hair, releasing his twin buns from their coiled up embrace. You push his head exactly where you want it to be, and he follows, good, dutiful. 

Positioning your legs over his shoulders, Choso nibbles at your inner thighs, close to where you want him to be without ever getting there. He opens his mouth wide again, and you don’t expect the bite that comes, that makes you yelp and jump, your leg kicking out in shock. The sight is pure erotica, as Choso looks up at you from under his lashes, his mouth red and pulled tight around your thigh, blood leaking from the wound he drinks upon, his lids heavy, as he gulps down the taste of you. When he pulls his fangs out, its with a moan so filthy, you can hear your hole squelching from how wet you’ve become. 

“You want to become my meals? Would you do that for me?” Choso asks, his voice raspy, a husk that makes your hips gently nudge against his face, but he ignores the crying of your cunt instead for the tears that leak down the softness of your cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you agree mindlessly, pushing his head once more in the direction that you need it to be in. Choso only rests his head against your thigh that still bleeds, lapping softly at the still open wound with low, heavy eyes that promise a life of ruin for you. 

“Yeah?” He asks, smiling when you pout, offer your cunt up to him once more. He takes the bait, finally, and kisses your clit with bloodied lips. It creates a lewd, wet smacking sound, makes your thighs jerk in pleasure, your eyes rolling from just the simplest of contacts. 

With how much he’s been teasing you, you don’t expect for him to eat you out in a way that is anything but slow, torturous. But you guess Choso has been wanting to taste you just as badly as you needed his mouth on you. He dives in almost hungrily, sucking at your clit until it borders on painful, before he soothes it over with licks of his tongue. He holds the bottom of your stomach with his palm, the other sliding two thick fingers inside at the same time. Its a painful stretch, makes you whine and pull at his hair, and he matches your frustration with another bite on the juncture of your hip and thigh, making you cry out. 

He finds his place back between your legs, his mouth now dripping with your slick, with your blood, with his spit. Creates a messy harmony of sounds between your legs as he fucks his fingers inside of you, scissoring them until your soft wall give in to his stretching, his tongue lapping at your swelling clit all the while. 

When he bites you again, you cum with a cry, unexpected and loud, your lower body shaking so violently that he has to hold you down with both hands. His tongue never stop licking at your clit, nibbles on it with too sharp teeth when you pull his hair, making you whine at him. Choso only laughs under his breath before he pulls away, not without another lick of the blood that dribbles down your sides in thin, dark rivulets. 

Choso stands on his knees before you on the bed, shredding off his own boxers with his nails that quickly slide out before they find their place in his nail beds again. His cock springs out, thick and pale, veins forking along the shaft, his pubes dark and curly at his base. His tip drools with precum, connects to your skin, and you want to taste it as badly as he tasted you, but Choso has other plans. 

He uses that vampiric speed once more, and you find yourself seated in his lap as you face him, his legs crossed under you, yours wrapped around his narrow waist. You’re eye to eye with him, find a reflection of your face in the darkness of his eyes, your blood tainting his mouth. You kiss him, let him raise you up until your cunt nudges against his tip, let him drop you on his fat length torturously slow until you’re seated against him. 

“So full,” you whisper, a gasp escaping you as you wrap your arms around his neck, pull him in so close that your bodies begin to meld together. Choso hisses when you clamp around him, fits his teeth against your neck without ever biting. 

“Tease,” you murmur, starting to lift yourself as much as you can, feel the achingly pleasureful slide of his cock against your greedy walls. You bring him to you, bare his neck to your dulled teeth and bite with such a force that it causes the vampire to laugh. 

“Cheeky, aren’t you?” Choso mutters, before he picks you up again before dropping you back down onto his cock. You let go of him to gasp, to moan out your pleasures, and he barely lets you get a word out before he picks up the pace. 

Your ass slaps against his muscled thighs, his nails digging into your soft flesh until you bleed, and you meet him as much as you can. Scratch and bite and claw at him until black blood bleeds from his wounds, until he growls and bites and scratches in return, until red mingles with inky gore. 

He reaches a hand between the two of you, nails retracted once more so that he can thumb at your fat clit, circle it until you start to shake and spasm on his cock. Choso lets you moan against his mouth, lets you bite at his bottom lip until it bleeds, lets you whine against him and choke his cock until you’re bursting like a dam. 

“There you go, just like that, angel.” Choso says, his voice soft as satin, his cock bruising your insides so good you can’t help the tears that escape the corners of your eyes. He looks so pretty staring up at you in his lap, still bouncing you on his cock, covered in blood and your cum and pure adoration. 

When he cums inside of you, he pauses, his mouth mashed against yours, a grunt heavy on his soft, soaked lips. Choso squeezes you to him, pulling on your bottom lip with sharp fangs until you bleed, to which he quickly laps up with a greedy tongue. You chase it, chase the taste of copper and slick and spit until it coats your tongue heavy and thick. You moan at the feeling of him spreading inside of you, covering every inch of you, his mouth still lapping at whatever he can reach. 

You sit in his lap like that, his cum spilling from your parted lips, your blood mingling on your chin with his own, his cock still seated inside of you, kicking with every clench of your cunt around him. You try to catch your breath, watch how his own chest doesn’t rise and fall as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear, admiring you in your post orgasm glow. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you not breathing.” You admit softly out of nowhere, making Choso chuckle under his breath. 

“But you can get used to the black blood and feeding on humans to survive?” He asks against your breast as he pillows his cheek against it. You hold him to you, your own face buried in the softness of his hair, your cheek smushed against him. 

“Only if you feed off of me, and shitty men.” You counter cheekily, not expecting him to actually laugh, loud and hardy, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible. 

“Agreed.” He says softly, and you can’t help the smile that pulls at your face. 

thank you all so much for reading! kind comments/likes/reblogs are so greatly appreciated!

[bamboobooshark]

MARC SPECTOR X LITTLE!READER

⊹₊⟡⋆ CAN’T SLEEP : 640 WRDS

<RATING: PG, FLUFF & AGERE>

A/N : Long time no see y’all! I was gone for so long due to hospitalization but I am back and ready to write! Here’s a short and sweet something for Marc since I’ve never written a fic exclusively for him! Enjoyyy. WARNINGS: Momentary mention of whiskey.

<SFW INTERACTION ONLY, MDNI/18+ ONLY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED>

Lately, Marc has been struggling more than usual to fall asleep and stay asleep. Though he was able to use you as a sleep aid by holding you close and keeping you safe, he woke up at about two in the morning. He snuck away from your shared bed to go grab something to drink. He made his best attempt to quietly grab a bottle of whiskey and slowly pour some of it in a small glass. The second he heard the bed squeak, he snapped his head in your direction. Even though you had heard and felt him getting out of bed, you wanted to try and spy on him before actually getting out of bed. He kept staring at you, watching you like a hawk.

He sighed deeply after a few minutes passed, murmuring to himself as he went to go sit on the couch. Once he was relaxed, you got out of bed and shuffled to the arm of the couch that he rested his elbow on. “Why are you awake right now? You should be asleep, baby,” he questions while looking up at you. “But I don’t wanna be asleep,” you pouted. Marc chuckled as he noticed your regressed state. He gently patted the couch cushion next to him. “Come here, kid,” he said. You didn’t hesitate to walk in front of the couch and plop down next to Marc, shimmying so you could comfortably rest your head against him. He smiled and wrapped a hand around your bicep, running it up and down carefully.

“Dada, I wanna cuddle. Pretty please come cuddle with me! Please? I can’t go to bed with you,” you pleaded as you nudged your head against him like a cat. Marc chuckled softly as he took a small sip from his glass. He sighed softly and shook his head. “I know it, baby. I know it. I just can’t sleep tonight. I need you to go back to sleep, and I’ll take you to get breakfast in the morning,” he offered with all honesty. You shook your head no and pouted. Tears pricked your eyes as you huffed. Marc frowned slightly as you began to huff and sniffle. He squeezed your arm reassuringly. You nudged his hand away and crossed your arms against your chest. “No,” you grunted. He looked like he had just been thrown out like an old toy. “Please, kid. I need you to go back to sleep,” he told you with desperation in his voice. “I’ll only sleep if you come cuddle me. It makes me feel safe from the closet monsters,” you confess to him. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, resulting in a quiet giggle from you. God, there was nothing he loved more than hearing how safe he makes you feel.

He grunts and groans as he gets up and stretches once he’s on his feet. You look up at him curiously while tilting your head. “What are you doing, dada?” you asked anxiously. He snickered at your worried expression and pulled you up into his arms. “I’m not going anywhere, my starlight,” he assured and kissed you gently. "Well, what are you doing then?” you demanded to know. “Shh. Calm down. I’m just taking you to bed. We can cuddle,” he tells you. He carefully walks over to your bed and sets you down on the mattress. He helps you to snuggle under the covers and gently tucks you in. “Look at your little self. You look snug as a bug,” he comments with his hands on his hips. You giggle and shake your head in response as Marc climbs into the bed with you. He gets himself comfortable before placing an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his torso. “There we go,” he sighed. “I won’t leave you again. I promise, baby.”

[kydrogendragon]

Oooooh, Sex Professor Hob and/or Porn Star Hob, please!

Yesss, I love both of these honestly, so have snippets of both! I think, technically, these both came from asks on Gabe's blog. The Porn Star one was an older one at this point. I'll have to see about tracking down the links. Since these are longer, I'll shove them below a Read More.

Porn Star Hob:

"Dream?" Hob asks, eyes wide as he watches the King of Dreams and Nightmares slowly slide to his knees in front of Hob's naked form. A set of cool and pale hands rest on the dip of his hips, thumbs caressing the tan skin beneath. Before he can get another word out, Dream's warm tongue reaches out, licking up his length. He moans, hands darting forward to claw into Dream's shoulders. A few heads turn in the studio at the noise. Hob's cheeks warm, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than he ever has before in this line of work. "Dream, what are you—" "I would attend to you personally, if you are amenable," Dream says, the tip of Hob's cock resting on those pretty red lips as he stares up through his lashes. It's a sight that just about breaks him. His grip tightens, closing his eyes so he doesn't cum all over his lover's face right here and now and ruin the entire shoot. Though, if he's honest, Dream could probably get him hard within minutes again if he tried. Hob's pretty sure his body's become hardwired to respond to Dream and that damn smirk of his by this point. Taking a breath, Hob opens his eyes again. Dream sits, resting on his knees, still looking up at him with that intense gaze Hob loves so much. But he doesn't move further, clearly waiting for Hob's permission to continue. "I—God's wounds, Dream. Yeah, of course, I'm always amenable, but—" Hob licks his lips. "—I just can't cum yet." Dream smirks. "I am well aware of what this job I would take would entail, Hob Gadling." As if to ensure Hob believed him, Dream moves a hand from Hob's hip and circles his fingers around the base of his cock and squeezes. The pressure is perfect and taunting and Hob's beginning to fear for his sanity. Normally, the fluffer's that he worked with would either give him a simple handie or hold him in their mouths. It worked, kept him hard, but that was about it. With Dream here, now, looking like the porn industry's twinky wet dream—ha—yeah . . . Hob's fucked. He'll be lucky if he makes it through the rest of the shoot at this point.

Sex Professor Hob:

(For some context, this one features Ace Dream who's working through his own internalized acephobia [kinda] and Hob's his tutor [who also fucks his willing clients])

“Who's making you smile so much?” “It is no one.” ‘As you deserve too. You getting that cake you talked about?’ “No one my ass. You get a new girlfriend and not tell me?” Jessamy reaches for his phone, but he pulls it closer to his chest, ignoring the blush at his cheeks. “I am still quite single, thank you for the reminder.” He sighs, clicking the screen off. He will send Hob a picture once it is made as he promised. “It was just my history tutor. He sent me a picture of his cat.” Jessamy rolls her eyes and leans back into the seat. “Should have guessed it was a cat. Makes much more sense in hindsight.” Dream shoots her a look which does nothing but make her giggle. “Who're you seeing by the way? I've got that Early Asian history class on the docket next semester and I know I'll be desperately in need of help.” “His name is Hob Gadling. I think you would like him. He's an exceptional tutor.” Jessamy's eyes go wide. "Oh my god," she says, slamming her drink onto the table. Dream is grateful for the lid lest it end up all over him instead. "The sex professor?" Dream's brain stops. "The what?" "Gadling! Colloquially known as the Sex Professor? Oddly attractive tutor? Does English and History 'officially' but most people go to him for the sex?" Dream feels as if he's been tipped into an alternate reality. "Professor Gadling. Hob Gadling. Sleeps with his clients? His younger clients" "Okay, you make it sound bad when you put it that way. Never heard a bad word about him in that regard. People say it's always very consensual and that he's also a very good lay. Lucienne's gone to him." "Lucienne has slept with him?” "Yup! Told me it's where she learned some of her moves." "I do not need to hear this." "Are you gonna sleep with him? Lots of people claim he's the best they've ever had. He's apparently as good of a teacher in bed as he is behind the desk." "Jessamy—" "You could probably use some stress relief. Maybe he'll give you a reward for passing that test of yours?" "Jessamy, please stop." She blinks and raises her hands in surrender. "Okay, I hear you. Topic: dropped." "Thank you." He folds his head into his arms where they rest on the table, trying not to think too hard about everything he just learned from Jessamy in a matter of two minutes. Of course he'd manage to find the one (he hopes it's just one) university level tutor that also offers "sex education" on the side. He can hear Desire's voice in his head already. “Dream!” His name is called from the counter. He takes a deep breath in before extricating himself from the booth. He grabs their items, his own drink secured between his chest and arm, and sits back down. The crepe cake does look delicious, but now as he looks down at it, all he can think of is what Jessamy had said. Had Hob been trying to coerce Dream into sleeping with him? Is that why he was texting him things unrelated to their sessions? He takes a sip of his coffee and tries to focus on Jessamy's trailing story about the latest art department drama. He never sends Hob a picture of that cake.

Wip List

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Here's another one, my foot is numb cuz dog's sleeping on my lap and I can't move.

Pregnant? His human is pregnant? Gabriel nearly knocks his human over when he rushes to hug her. She's crying? Don't cry, unless it's out of happiness. He purrs and kisses her cheeks, he plucks the pregnancy tests from her hands to look at the results himself. They've made something! Would it be a boy or a girl? He's torn. He's had brothers for the bulk of his life but a little girl that looks exactly like his human?

He purrs happily and peppers her with kisses, good little human, he'll take care of her as her pregnancy progresses. He'll handle all the housework so she can rest and focus on growing their child. Their little miracle. Perhaps it's not as much a surprise to him as it is to her. He is aware of a few of his battle brothers with bonded humans that are "single mothers" with little ones that look suspiciously to those Blood Angels. Maybe it is mostly his fault for not using protection when he's fully aware of this possible end result. But... this can be a little surprise from him to her right?

He rumbles as his human mutters about needing to set up check ups and a nursery. He can handle the nursery, can he go with her for her check ups?

Set after Gabriel's Valentines day special

You feel your leg bounce as you rub the barely visible bulge on your stomach. You know exactly who the father is... given that he was the last person you had sex with. Gabriel coos to your softly sitting on the floor next to you trying his best to comfort you. Oh God you were an Astartes-fucker... and you got pregnant! He rubs your hand as he is certainly feeling your panic rising.

Gabriel should feel guilty as there was a possibility of getting his dear human pregnant but he just wanted to show her how much he loved her and was this not also the greatest way for him to show his love? His eyes flick over to the nurse as she calls her last name and he helps her up.

"Emotional Support Astartis?" She says with a smile and you just nod.

"Yeah I'm a mess of emotions right now." You say softly replying as you worry about people finding out... would someone try to take your kid?

"Well you've got your big guy. Lie down please." You obey and she tucks some of those hospital paper around you and some tucked into the top of your pants as cold get is rubbed on your stomach.

Gabriel watched just cooing happily but internally he was doing his mental checkmarks... he would have to tell the acting chapter master what he had done and then the chief apothecary would want to look her over... and then the small coven of alpha legion that is friendly with the legion? Were they basically a legion again? Either way they would make sure no one suspected anything.

You gasped seeing the blurry blobby mess that was your fetus? kid? You just were surprised to even see something perhaps you were hoping to be told no it was no longer there. You look over at Gabriel and you can tell he's holding his breath his eyes focused on the screen just looking over the little blurry blob with you. You wonder if they would have his red hair...

The visit goes well as you hand Gabriel the ultrasound picture... it doesn't look like much but... you can tell it means a lot to him. For Gabriel as he looks down at the little photo. Of course, the Apothecary would be able to get a clearer picture of their child but he didn't know why... but this was something he was going to cherish.

@egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts

[livelaughghoul]

Lewis Hamilton - Birth Chart Analysis

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only, nothing observed or taken away from this should be considered fact. As a reminder, I know fuck all about Formula 1, I just like fast cars (DALE EARNHARDT LIVES ON IN MY DREAMS, GOD BLESS AMERICA). 

Additional disclaimer: I am fucking tired y’all. My week at work has been actual hellfire, and I started my summer classes so I am back to averaging like, three hours of sleep a night and I am overworked, underpaid, and barely surviving (I am NOT thriving). I did NOT dive into the aspects of his chart, honestly, I am exhausted and posting this literally in the middle of the night. As soon as I finish this, I am knocking out for the foreseeable. If anyone really wants, I will look at the aspects, but my eyes are starting to hurt. I’ll get to his tarot reading sometime after I wake up. 

Anyway, here is my look at Lewis’s birth chart, since there seemed to be a lot of interest in his overall chart, I went ahead and dove in much deeper than I have on the others. If there is more interest in this, I am happy to do this for others as well. Unfortunately, I am not able to promise the accuracy of these, as a majority of the charts will be done using UTC unless there is a reliable birth time provided anywhere. 

THE PLANETS:

Sun - Capricorn 

A Capricorn Sun to me is like a warm summer day with a perfect breeze, a feeling of coming home after a long day at work, and a perfectly baked apple crisp. It’s reliable, strong, and levelheaded. With this placement being ruled by Saturn, there is a lot of attention paid to time, how long it has taken to accomplish goals, the milestones, etc. I have no doubts that Lewis is the type to remember those important dates and want to make them important. Lewis has a long-term plan and has it planned out in an incredible amount of detail. The goat is applicable in all terms, steadfast, balanced even in the uncertainly, and stubborn.

Moon - Cancer 

I get the sense that Lewis opens up slower, but when he develops trust with someone it takes a lot to break it. There is so much protective and loyal energy with this placement, I have no doubts that once Lewis finds his people, he does everything in his power to ensure they feel valued and protected. Lewis has a gentle heart, and he loves deeply, like DEEPLY. There is a lot of emotions there, and with a Cancer in Moon there is a a tendency to almost be afraid to feel these emotions because they can be overwhelming. I think that Lewis has done the work necessary though to embrace being as emotional as he is, and there is a sense of power in the emotions he feels. 

Rising - Scorpio 

This is such an intense and petty rising sign, I love it. I also just have a soft spot for literally any Scorpio placement (even toxic men with a scorpio sun). In terms of rising, it’s a lot of resourceful placement, Lewis probably feels a sense of calm when he is in charge and feels that he has control. The one downside to a Scorpio rising is that there is a bit of a temper, like, it takes a lot to set it off, but my god, when it gets going, it’s a verbal tearing down that you would not expect. It’s got people walking away thinking about the things said for hours. 

Mercury (Planet of intelligence) - Sagittarius 

This is really nice placement, but it tells me that Lewis absolutely hates any sort of censorship or PR training. Real big jack of all trades in terms of hobbies, and a natural ability to just pick things up and be absolutely amazing at them. Knitting? One youtube video and hes a professional. Baking? No problem, practically a professional from the one time he read a blog online. Lewis is always open to learning new things and challenging himself. I have no doubts that this man is full of wisdom and grace. 

Venus (Planet of love and pleasure) - Pisces

Again, Lewis is in-touch with his emotions, and is so devoted to those that he deems worthy of his heart. While his chart does indicate that there is a tendency to have a bit of a temper, I have no doubts that once there is a spark there, he is the most gentle and kindhearted man there is. He is devoted and will cherish you with his everything. Unfortunately, there is sometimes a lot of self-sacrifice that comes with this placement that can make relationships difficult in the long run. 

Mars (Planet of physical energy) - Pisces 

I personally find this to be a pretty intense placement. It’s not necessarily due to the physicality of it, I just think that there is a lot of emotion that comes with Pisces, and when it clashes with the physicality of Mars, it can be hard to balance them out. I think that there is a tendency to shoulder others' issues and make them his own. Since Lewis is so in touch with his emotions, I think that there is a deeper and better understanding of what he needs to feel stable in a relationship.

Jupiter (Planet of luck, optimism, and success) - Capricorn 

This is an interesting placement, for a few different reasons. It’s one of my less preferred placements, but it’s definitely not the worst out there! The success in Lewis’s life can truly be attributed to his hard work and dedication. This also tells me that there is going to be longevity to the success, it isn’t just going to end. 

Saturn (Planet of responsibility)  - Scorpio 

Saturn here brings a lot of obstacles, but a lot of them tend to be on the emotional side of things rather than physical. Either there is going to be a huge disagreement between him and someone close to him that blows up into public attention, or this has already happened. This brings back some of that stubborn influence that we see in some other placements, his career is going to be something that lasts well past retirement, it isn’t just going to fizzle out. Retirement isn’t going to be traditional at all, his career is going to extend well past his driving days. 

Uranus (Planet of change and originality) - Sagittarius

Even when faced with change, Lewis is going to handle it with grace. We start to see some of the more unconventional beliefs here too, this tells me that there is a lot of spirituality and reliance on the self and manifestation. 

Neptune (Planet of mystery and illusion) - Capricorn

Lewis, the man that you are. I love a Capricorn Neptune because it is whimsical, driven, passionate, and truly in touch with the natural world. There is a lot of dedication to the self and others with this placement. There is so much hope and desire to understand the world at large and how it works with this placement. With Lewis being so connected to his emotions, I think that there is a lot of emotion tied into this placement as well. There is a lot of balance and self-soothing that can be done through this specific placement. 

Pluto (Planet of death and rebirth) - Scorpio 

Pluto is interesting. I definitely think that there is a lot of passion here, like a lot. Going back to everything else in his chart, this really kind of ties it together really well. I think that there is a lot of balance here. I mean, there is a lot emotion and passion everywhere in the chart, and then we get to this? Where it kind of becomes this overwhelming desire and passion to get their own way. 

THE HOUSES:

First house (House of Self) - Pluto, Saturn, and Southern Node

Saturn in the first house tells me that there is a lot of weight placed on Lewis’s shoulders, the majority of it being there by his own doing. Lewis values hard work, and it really shows through his entire chart. Pluto shines through in more of the personality than the work ethic, Pluto in the first brings this natural charism and charm, that welcomes people in and attracts them naturally. The Southern Node here is pretty brutal, and I think a lot of it comes down to how much emotion is carried through the chart. With the Southern Node here, it can be easy to inadvertently hurt others through words or actions. 

Second house (House of Possessions ) - Uranus and Mercury 

I love Mercury here because we are literally seeing it in real time. There is a luxury to it, an ability to continue pushing the boundaries and just build more financial security and comfort. If it’s something that he believes will make his life easier, he has no problem dropping a pretty penny. I also love Uranus in this placement, because again, we literally see it. It’s typically seen in making great finances in an unconventional career (I would argue and say professional motorsports is unconventional). I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that he has an antiques collection or at least an interest in the vintage or antique world. 

Third house (House of Communication) - Neptune, Sun, and Jupiter

Lewis will have a natural talent for being well-spoken and eloquent in his speech and finds it easy to build a connection with others. There is a lot going on in this house, so I think that there may be a tendency to be disorganized in thought more so than anywhere else. Since Jupiter is the planet of luck, I definitely think that Lewis could talk himself out of any sort of trouble. He just needs to find a mutual connection and it’s game over. I don’t think Lewis would be the type to take advantage of this natural ability to charm others, but I do think there might be a tendency to weaponize it when he is feeling wounded. Neptune brings a lot of balance here, and really furthers the belief that he is a spiritual babe! I have no doubts that Lewis finds the occult to be interesting! I would literally give anything to have a chat with him over some occult ideals. 

Fifth house (House of Creativity and Sex) - Venus and Mars 

LITERALLY THE BEST FUCKING PLACEMENT. We have the planet of pleasure and love in the same house as the planet of energy and assertiveness. Venus tells us that Lewis is a natural romantic, and he knows how to make someone feel like they are the center of the universe. Paired with Mars, we see that there is almost an impulsivity to this romantic aspect of things, and that competitive nature comes through. He is going to be the best thing that has happened to someone, he will make damn sure of that. 

Seventh house (House of Marriage and Partnership) - Northern Node

I love the Northern Node here, truly. I’ve said it already, but I’ll say it again. Lewis Hamilton is willing to commit, to his career, to friends, to partners. He is not afraid of commitment at all. This natural charm that he carries is so infectious. He absolutely is going to be the best husband out there, like holy shit. 

Eighth house (House of Death and regeneration, and legacies) - Chiron 

I don’t love the wounded healer being in this house, like at all. To me this symbolizes holding onto things that he should not, likely leading to a festering rage. As I stated earlier, it likely takes a lot to get to the point where Lewis feels that it is necessary to end a relationship in any capacity, it is going to cause a lot of personal pain and bring up a lot of challenges. 

Ninth house (House of Mental Exploration) - Moon 

Lewis is a philosophical man at heart, I have no doubts that when he gets on a topic he is passionate about, he gets deep. I love this placement for him, because it usually means a lot of success in travel, and it’s my understanding (I am sorry for my lack of f1 knowledge guys), that he is constantly traveling. 

[the-blaze-empress]

Small Gods

Chapters: 8/? Fandom: Dream SMP Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Technoblade & Phil Watson | Philza, Ranboo & Phil Watson | Philza, Niki | Nihachu & Phil Watson | Philza, Philza’s Relationship With Himself, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Technoblade/Phil Watson | Philza Characters: Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Niki | Nihachu, Toby Smith | Tubbo, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Jack Manifold Additional Tags: Background Ranboo/Tubbo, Alternate Universe – Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Trans Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), He/Him and They/Them Pronouns for Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Accidental Self-Harm, past transphobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Queerplatonic Technoblade/Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), God Ranboo, Other Additional Tags to be Added, Phil and Techno are very ambiguous interpret them how you want Summary:

Techno’s question weighs heavy on his mind even hours later, when the room is dark and Techno is snuffling in his sleep, and Phil knows he should be doing just the same.

Is he okay?

It needles at him. Pokes and prods and works its way in through the cracks Phil keeps trying to patch up. It finds the emptiness in his sternum and it writhes there, twisting and turning and aching.

The answer is clear.

— Or, Phil feels empty, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not.

---

Small Gods is back!!!

thats right!! it's back!! ive spent the last month slowly chipping away at editing wil out, replacing him with jack. it's my first time writing him, so he might be a little wonky in places, especially because he's covering up wil's lines.

there is a new chapter ready and waiting to be posted as well!! it's not out yet, but it will be in the next couple of days, when i have the time to post it properly. for now, all i've done is update the fic, and add a few new tags.

as ever, there is no upload schedule to this fic. and as ever, it isn't over until i say it's over. it may have taken me a year, but i still care about this fic so much and intend to see it through. it just might take a little more time than i first thought.

the sincerest thank you to everyone who's still here and still reading. thank you to those who have moved on, for enjoying it even in its half finished state. thank you to those who have been waiting patiently, and thank you to those who may have forgotten this even existed in the first place and are just rediscovering it. you all mean the world to me.

here's to another however many chapters of small gods!!