#he is the prettiest of the boys don’t tell soap

[verdantcreek]

gaz doodle for the soul

[lushrve]

hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader

cause who doesn't want the image of these boys all sweaty and bloody in hockey gear (also i haven't mastered writing in a scottish or manchester accent yet so don't come for me)

you’re a figure skater, something you’ve devoted your whole life since childhood to. over the years, you’ve honed your craft, becoming one of the best in your area. you do well enough at competitions; not olympic material, but skilled enough to bring home a state title every now and again. you take pride in the way your body glides across the ice, painting pretty pictures with each scrape of the blade of your skate. it’s methodical, structured, clean. if you close your eyes, you can almost pretend you’re dancing on clouds.

it’s a small town and there’s only one ice rink for miles, so of course you run into the local hockey team practicing and warming up for matches. you don’t know most of them (don’t care to, frankly), but some are more notorious than others.

the team captain and center, price, the tactical mind behind their victories. from the few games you’ve watched them play, you can tell that he calls the shots. you watch as he sits on the bench, watching his teammates rush back and forth across the ice. it’s like he sees beyond the game. sometimes, you see him close his eyes, like he’s seeing a play take shape in his head, before calling out to the others and making it happen. they always listen, his booming baritone too compelling to disregard. (that voice made you feel something too, but you didn’t want to admit it.)

then there was a defenseman, simon. you just knew him as “riley” by the last name emblazoned on the back of his jersey. but if you listened closely (and you did), his teammates called him ghost. it didn’t take you very long to find out why. ghost was a large man, all broad shoulders and hard lines. he preferred the silent approach to taking down an opponent, slamming them against the boards before they could even register the sound of his skates scraping the ice. he played dirty, your eyes often meeting his when the referee threw him in the penalty box. (he winked at you once as he cleaned some blood from his lip, fresh from a fight. you pretended not to notice.)

left wing belonged to johnny, a scottish man they called soap. he got his nickname from his assist record, always coming in to clean up what price or ghost or another teammate had fumbled to lead his team to victory. he was quick on his feet, but brutal. while ghost was the primary muscle, soap wasn’t afraid to get physical if someone was coming between him and a goal. soap was also mouthy, chirping in his thick accent across the ice to get in the other team’s head. half the things he said, you don’t understand. hell, the other team probably didn’t either. but the tone was what mattered. (he leaned over the plexiglass after a solid win, personally inviting you back to their next home game. you blushed crimson.)

right wing was kyle. by far the prettiest one on the team, you thought. he’d take his helmet off as he skated back to the bench, running a hand through his sweat-soaked curls. the sight of him was like a work of art, a canvas brutalized by the nature of an aggressive team sport. he wasn’t as quick to get physical as the others were, but the moment everyone dogpiled on the ice, he was right there in the fray, throwing punches that landed just as loud and hard as the rest of them. the way he moved on the ice almost reminds you of your routines, careful and choreographed. he knew exactly where he was going, and he always hit his marks. (you wondered if he always moved like that, wondered if he danced through life.)

ghost and soap approached you after a win, coming up into the stands after they’d stripped themselves of their gear. while soap looked a bit smaller after shedding the heavy padding, ghost didn’t. still a hulking wall of muscle. “oughta sit in the stands mo’ often, birdie,” soap chirped, a smug smile on his face as he leaned on his hockey stick. “y’r like a good luck charm fer us.” you blushed pretty, averting your eyes and missing the way the two men looked at each other. you’d do just nicely, they thought. ghost cleared his throat, your eyes snapping up to him like he’d commanded it. (he could’ve. you would’ve obeyed.) “when d’you skate again?” he asked, arms crossed over his expansive chest.

“y’ve seen us in our element. now we wanna see you in y’rs.”

[mobbu-min]

☆ grandma's best friend ☆

summary: in which you’re tasked with picking up your grandma after her knitting club and can’t help but fall in love with the handsome man sat right beside her.

a/n had this in the wip hell for forever. i was going to add azul but.... i have the hardest time writing him, so maybe he'll appear in another piece. also this takes place after they have graduated from nrc!

characters trey clover, deuce spade, jack howl, silver & lilia vanrouge

tw cursing

 Despite living in the same house with your grandma since the day you were born, there were still plenty of things you didn’t know about her. And truthfully you weren't one to pry into her, what you considered, pretty mundane life. Early morning walks, baking a mountain of cookies and breads and watching soap operas weren’t really your things. 

 So not once, never in your life, did you expect that you’d be stopped dead in your tracks the moment you entered through the glass doors of your grandma’s friend's sunroom. It was supposed to be a knitting class for older women, right?

 Well, apparently your grandma decided to be super mean and not tell you about the absolute hunk that came every week. 

 You watched from the entry as he laughed along with your grandma. It was like you could hear church bells in the distance. You instantly could tell with the way your grandma and the other ladies flocked to him and talked so sweetly to him that they were absolutely smitten with him. 

 As if sensing your rising temperature, your grandma turned her head around and waved you over. “What are you doing all the way over there? Come here, sweetie.”

 You suddenly felt so shy and quickly averted your gaze. Your stomach doing backflips the closer you got. Why did you feel like you were going to explode?

 As your grandma introduced you, you peaked up at him only to freeze in place the moment your gaze caught his. And the moment his lips stretched into the prettiest, most dazzling smile you’ve ever seen, you knew you were down bad. 

 Like really bad.

Trey Clover <3

⋆ Trey Clover, the baker’s son. Everyone knew him as a kind and gentle soul. You’ve known him since you were young, going to the same elementary school as him and his feline friend, however that all you were. Simply classmates and your desire to know him outside of that was zero to none.

⋆ So safe to say, you haven’t seen him since he was a preteen and suddenly the image of a lanky, nerdy looking boy with a shy smile dispersed when you saw him.

⋆ Tall, strong and handsome, not to mention a fine looking ass. He’s definitely changed since you last saw him. And suddenly, all the older women talking about trying to hook up their daughters with the baker’s son suddenly made a lot more sense. He was the definition of husband material.

⋆ And you were determined to make him yours.

☆☆☆

“Hopefully you remember my granddaughter, I know she can blend into the crowds easily.” You grandma laughed joyfully and despite her fraile statue, the heaviness of her hands persisted causing you to stumble forwards.

Chuckling awkwardly, you smiled crookedly at Trey who smiled easily at your grandma’s antics, seemingly used to it. Placing a large, yet comforting, hand on your shoulder he steady you, “Don’t worry, Mrs. (l/n), I have a pretty strong memory.”

“Hmpf, and hopefully you keep it then, lest you end up like your grandmother over there.” Your grandma jabbed playfully at the chubby woman who glared softly in her direction.

And yet despite your best attempt to listen to the both of them bicker back and forth, the warmth sweeping through your thin sweater was enough to keep your attention on the young man. Catching your gaze, Trey’s honey eyes twinkled with curiosity, “Hey, (y/n), it’s been awhile.”

Like water hitting oil, your heart exploded into thousands of little sparks the second your name rolled off his tongue. How can one person sound so sweet? Like sugar and sprinkles and everything sweet? It was not far!

“Hehe, yeahhh.” You drawled out, your cheeks ablaze and hot to the touch. Doing your best to reign in your heart eyes, you coughed into your fist and smiled sweetly at him, “H-how have you been? Last I checked you were in dentistry school, right?”

Scratching his nape, Trey hummed, “I was, but after my dad hurt his back I came back to help with the bakery. It didn’t feel right to leave my mom to take care of the bakery, my dad and siblings all by herself.”

Ah, a family man, how nice, you cooed internally. Now, you haven’t thought of settling down anytime soon, but for him? Your ass is sat.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Trey. That sounds horrible.” You said with full sincerity, your heart aching for him. “Have you thought about going back though?”

“I’ve thought about it, but…” His gaze roamed around the room filled with elderly ladies laughing and joking around, to them greeting their partners with warm welcomes and honey eyes, until settling back to you. Mirth swam through his pretty eyes, “I kinda like it here.”

Your heart, the romantic thing it was, was set zooming into the sky and exploding into fireworks. While you knew it was merely coincidence that you just happened to be here and asked that particular question, it was all you needed to decide that whatever future Trey wanted was one you were going to be a part of.

The world can call you whatever, a romantic, a simp, you didn’t care.

Tilting your head, you smiled sweetly at him, “Yeah, I do too.”

This was going to be your happily ever after.

Deuce Spade <3

⋆ It took you a second to recognize the boy that struggled to untangle the yarn on his lap, but the moment his wide blue eyes scanned the room to see how far behind he was, you knew.

⋆ Deuce Spade, the former bad boy turned honorary magical student.

⋆ You wouldn’t say that you didn't like him, more like you don’t know him. Your paths never really crossed, with him always skipping school and all. Though you did always have a soft spot for him, afterall he would consistently turn a blind eye every time you snuck out of p.e.

⋆ And you couldn’t deny the tiny crush you had on him either. Something about his bad boy behavior that made your young nerdy heart swoon.

⋆ So who could blame you for blushing the moment he laid eyes on you.

☆☆☆

 Pretty, was the first thought that crossed your mind. Also, that he looked a lot like his mom, who you’ve tried to get with multiple times before hand. Sadly your homemade lunches and pathetic attempts at flirting did nothing to convince her to give you a chance. However it did convince her not to bill you every time she had to fix up your old beaten up car. 

 He looked a lot older too. His big bright blue eyes, a little narrower yet still glowing like the sun shining down on the sea. His soft cheeks were gone, a lot more slender and mature, yet he still maintained that youthful pink hue to the apple of his cheeks. And if you looked closely enough you could see the black ink of tattoos peeking out of his cerulean sweater. 

 You could feel your cheeks blossom into the all too familiar hue of the cherry blossoms that grew outside the windows. You hoped your makeup would mask the heat radiating off your cheeks. Clutching onto the straps of your bag, you shuffled towards your grandma, who stared at you with knowing eyes. Curses, I should have never left my diary where she could see it. 

 Just as you opened your mouth to greet your grandma, your breath hitched. It was like you were staring into the ocean, the glimmers in his eyes like clear waters. You were in awe at how a simple look from a guy you haven’t seen in ages could leave you so breathless. 

 A sharp jab to your ribs quickly ripped you out of whatever shoujo-esque moment you were having. Crumbling over, you gingerly held your side and wheezed. Your grandma, the blunt old lady she is, paid your suffering no mind and was quick to chastise you. “Goodness (y/n), have I not taught you nothing? It’s rude to stare.”

 Like a knight you’ve read about in plenty of romance novels back in your preteens and teens (even now honestly), he came to your rescue. 

 “It’s alright, I don’t mind Mrs. (l/n).” You could hear your grandma huff and turn away, probably to gossip with the other ladies. Despite her old age, her strength has yet to fail her and her elbows were, unfortunately, sharp. Yet, all that pain disappeared with a gentle touch to your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?”

 Raising your head, your eyes widened at the closeness between you both. You were sure at this point your makeup did nothing to help the ever darkening color of your face. If anything it was probably being wiped off with how much you were sweating. 

 Laughing nervously, you shook your head and smiled, “Y-yeah, I’m good. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

 Amusement danced in his eyes. Rubbing at his own side, he nodded along, “Tell me about it, she sure packs a punch.” Familiarity sparkled across his features, “(y/n), right? You were a grade above me?”

 “Yup, it’s been awhile, Deuce.” Sitting in your grandma’s spot, you took one of the sweet strawberry jam cookies and popped it in your mouth.”What have you been up to lately?”

 Sitting down, Deuce hummed, “You know, uni and stuff. Studying isn’t really my forte, but I’m trying hard.”

 “Making your mom proud?” You teased softly. With how often you were over at her house, you heard plenty of stories of his recent endeavors. Not to mention, you could never get over how fondly she spoke of her only son. The type of love and proudness that was totally unique to her. 

 Sighing, Deuce ran a hand through his hair, “I sure hope so…”

 Punching his shoulders, you scoffed, “Oh, c’mon Deuce, give yourself more credit. You're practically the light of her life. No matter what happens, she’ll always be proud of you.”

 Warmth flooded his gaze at your words. Despite knowing that, it was always nice to hear it said out loud. Playing with the loose threads of his sweater, he easily turned the conversation around, “Uh, but what about you? My mom says you're at the house every week to get your car fixed.”

 “Oh, yeah…haha…” You laughed bashfully, praying to the Sevens that she didn’t mention your flirting. Placing a finger on your chin, you stared up at the ceiling, “I’ve been good. I work at the local tattoo shop as a receptionist. I’m hoping that Mr. Stevens will finally accept my portfolio, but from the looks of things…I think I’m better off trying to get an apprenticeship in the city.”

 Nodding along, Deuce grinned, “I remember you always doodling on everything. I’m surprised you didn’t try…um…professional painting? Is that a thing? Like galleries and stuff?”

 “I wanted to, but it was too expensive. Tattooing though? Pretty accessible money wise, it’s just a pain in the ass to get someone to take you under their wing.” You sighed tiredly. Shrugging your shoulders, you turned your gaze to Deuce and grinned, “I guess we’ve both been busy trying to make something of ourselves huh?”

 “Yeah, I guess we are.”

 Hearing your grandma call out your name, you knew your conversation had to come to its end. Rising up, you fixed your bag and offered Deuce a soft smile. 

 “It was nice talking to you again. I’m kinda sad it was cut short.”

 Scratching his cheek, he averted his eyes, “Well…it doesn't have too.”

 Tilting your head, you looked at him in confusion. Something warm and electric blooming in your chest. 

 Reaching into his pocket, he took out his phone and offered it to you. Smiling nervously, he stuttered, “L-let’s exchange numbers and if you aren’t too busy, let’s get some drinks sometime this week.”

 It was like thousands of angels came down from heaven at his proposal. This was everything your little preteen heart had ever wanted, and who were you to deny her?

 “That sounds like fun!”

Jack Howl <3

(reader is a wolf beastmen too!)

⋆ Muscles….

⋆ So many muscles…

⋆ You could feel your knees quiver and threaten to crumble under your weight. You’ve seen plenty of muscular people in your life, but never one with such a gentle touch as him. The way he held the croquet needle was as if he was afraid he’d break it with his full force.

⋆ To the gentle sway of his fluffy snow white tail told you everything you needed to know about him.

☆☆☆

You considered taping your own tail against your leg with how fast it wagged behind you. Don’t be fooled, you loved who you were, but you didn’t love how easy it was for others to decipher your emotions through the simple beat of your tail. And it appears that, no matter how hard you try to feign a cool and mysterious persona, everyone could see how much of a dork you were by simply looking behind you.

Your grandma stifled her own chuckles behind a wrinkled hand, “Jack, this is my granddaughter, (y/n). I hope you can both get along.”

Both of your ears perked up the moment your eyes caught his, golden like the sun surrounded by fluffy white clouds. Again, your grandma giggled and busied herself with other matters. Deciding to let fate take charge.

Nodding your head, you smiled shyly, “It’s nice to meet you, Jack. It’s not often I meet other wolf beastmen here.”

You liked to think that's why you were so excited, and certainly not because he was practically your dream guy. Oh Sevens, it felt like you were in a dream. You wished you wouldn’t wake up.

Jack nodded, his expression stoic, but much like yourself, his curiosity was clearly shown by the twitch of his ear and wag of his fluffy tail. You instantly realized he wasn’t much for talking. Typically with anyone else, you’d find it awkward, but with Jack, you found yourself at ease.

Leaning against the window frame, you gestured to his green and brick brown coasters, “I like your coasters, they're so pretty. Are they for anyone in particular?”

Shaking his head, he moved besides you, “No, it’s actually for me. I thought it would look nice underneath my cactuses.”

His voice was deep, but not too deep that made you shudder, deep and smooth like you were floating through a river. A steady beat unlike your heart. From your spot you could smell his cologne, a light sandalwood fragrance that mixed well with his natural woodsy scent.

Humming softly, you pulled your tail to your lap to prevent it from hitting him and gently ran your fingers through the soft fur, “Cactuses, huh? You must take very good care of them.”

“I do. They seem easy to care for, but they need a strict schedule to make sure they grow strong.” Jack said proudly. A smirk that sent your heart into cardiac arrest present on his clear brown skin. And then as if he suddenly remembered something, he looked down almost bashfully, “And well, some are also for my family.”

Ugh, he just keeps on getting more and more perfect! You internally squealed. Calming yourself, you asked, “That’s nice of you. Handmade things from the heart is always the best. Is that why you’re taking these classes? I typically don’t see guys like you willingly hanging out in a place like this.”

Leaning his head back, Jack thought, “I thought this would broaden my horizons. Knitting and crocheting requires patience and discipline. So in turn that would help me out when I work out.”

“Training the mind, while training the body!”

“Mh-hm.” Glancing down at you, he grinned, “I’m glad you understand. The guys in my work out group were jerks about it.”

Grinning, you gently nudged him with your elbow, “They sound like a bunch of airheads then.”

Jack chuckled under his breath. They type of laugh that would have every head turning. The type of laugh that you would hear rarely, like a special treat. The type of laugh you knew you wanted for yourself.

Right then and there, you decided you were going to do your hardest to make him yours.

Silver <3

⋆ Beautiful, stunning, angelic, you could go on.

⋆ The boy in front of you was straight out of a romance novel. The knight perhaps, judging by his build. But his face totally screams prince.

⋆ You could feel your heart racing in your chest that it was almost painful.

⋆ And dear sevens, he just smiled.

⋆ Yeah, you were screwed.

☆☆☆

“I am so sorry!” You apologized profusely, hastily taking out napkins from your bag to dap onto his soft pastel blue sweater. Searing heat painted your face. Pure embarrassment piercing your chest.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He said softly, gently prying your shaking hands away. “Things like this happen, no need to get so worked up about it.”

If this was any other instance where you weren’t fighting your demons, you would be swooning and thinking to yourself that your dreams of becoming the main character of a shoujo anime finally came true. But no, the world hates you. So you were having a difficult time not feeling bad, especially when his sweaters looked so…

Expensive… you sighed internally, trying your best not to eye the large weird shaped blob staining his chest. “Still, I am incredibly sorry. Maybe I can pay for dry cleaning?”

A smile, soft and so, so, so pretty, formed on his face. A gentle shake of head caused his silky silver hair to fall delicately across his clear glasslike skin, you weren’t sure if you were feeling awe or envy at this point. With an amused tone that held no annoyance, he reassured, “I told you it was okay, didn’t I? I’m not mad at all, so you shouldn’t feel bad.”

Then his smile fell. Looking crestfallen, he sighed, “If anything, I should apologize. Your coffee is all gone now.”

Immediately alarm bells began to ring all throughout your head. A boy as pretty and nice as him should never be sad, it said. Fix it, it demanded.

Holding up your empty cup, you laughed nervously, hoping to ease his imaginary burden. “No, no! I have so much left! See!” A sad single drop touched your lip. You wanted to end it all.

Despite your pure hatred for the world right now, the boy in front of you found it funny. Or maybe he was pitying you. Either way you’re taking it as a win.

Covering your mouth with your hand, you laughed alongside him, “Maybe if I was an ant, then maybe that would have been enough.”

Clearing his throat, he gazed softly at you and held out his hand, “I’m Silver.”

Without missing a beat, you shook his hand, “(y/n). It’s nice to meet you, Silver.”

“Likewise.” Leaning against the wall, he asked, “What brings you here?”

Perking up, you swayed back and forth on the balls of your heels, “I’m here to pick up by grandma. Though she’s typically not this late.”

You spared your phone a glance. She was twenty minutes late. You would have gone in to see, but last time she scolded you big time. You weren’t really in the mood to deal with her nasty temper.

Silver nodded. “Me too. I came to get my father, but it seems like the class is running longer then expected. -sigh- I shouldn’t have fallen asleep earlier.”

“You feel asleep?” You asked with a light laugh.

Pink dusted his face and his auroral eyes stared up at the sky, “Yes. It’s a bad habit I’ve had for a long time. Anyways, I was supposed to attend today, but well…”

His bashful expression made your heart swoon. Was it possible for a angel to look any more angelic? Apparently yes, judging by the way the sun perfectly hit his features and the sudden appearances of birds and little critters.

“It happens. I was supposed to come too, but I spent too much time getting ready that my grandma left without me. Something about her having to get there early.” She has been acting so strange lately, you hoped she wasn’t getting sick.

“Odd, my father had to get here early too.” Silver hummed, remembering the way his father buzzed in excitement.

A few seconds passed by in silence. Mulling over each other words, you both began to piece together the reasons for their odd behaviors. Looking up at Silver, you gasped.

“You don’t think…”

“Perhaps…”

As if answering your questions, the doors to your grandmother’s friends sunroom burst opened. Followed by her friend’s exasperated yells and two gleeful gigglings. Spinning around the both of your gasped.

“I told you both! Next time I catch you guys kissing in my sunroom, I’m kicking you out!” She huffed.

“Ehehe, Mrs. Eliza no need to get so pent up! We were merely getting acquainted!” The small, youthful looking fae giggled. Hugging your grandmother from behind.

“Acquainted! In my sunroom?!” She gasped indignantly. Her face was hot in anger.

“You’re just mad I’m getting more action than you have in the past 30 years!” Your grandmother cackled, kissing the fae’s cheeks lovingly.

Before the older lady could lift her broom up to wack your grandmother, Silver stepped fowards with an apologetic smile, “Ms, I’m so sorry for my father’s behavior.”

Instantly her anger died down at the angelic boy. Her frown turning into a sweet smile. “Oh, you sweet boy. No need to apologize for your father. Goodness, how did that thing even raise such a sweet boy like yourself.”

Despite Silver's smile, you noticed the way his fist clenched at his side. You rose a brow at him. Ignorant to his quiet anger, she waved the two older figures off. “Just get out of here.”

Once she was outta sight, they both burst out in laughter. Holding each other up as their lungs expelled any air left. All of your grandma’s odd behavior suddenly made sense.

“What the heck?” You finally said, earning their attention. Pointing to the mischievous looking fae, you asked, “This is why you’ve been getting home late? Because you were getting…getting…”

“My freak on.” Your grandma giggled. You suddenly regretted setting up her tik tok account.

Placing at hand on Silver’s shoulder, you gagged, “Oh god, I’m going to puke.”

“Oh please, no need for your theatrics dear.” Your grandma hushed, already making her way to your car. Over her shoulder, she jabbed, “Unless your jealous that I got a boyfriend before you!”

You gasped so loud that it made Silver jump. “Grandma!”

The fae, floated towards your grandma and kissed her cheek. Rubbing her shoulders, he grinned, “Now dear, don’t be so harsh on the youngin’s. I fear it’s a common issue among them all.”

Silver bristled next to you. His cheeks heated up at his father’s remark. Romance has never been his top priority.

“Do you hear them, Silver! They’re mocking us!” You hissed, your face hot with embarrassment.

“I hear them loud and clear.” He sighed. Looking at the fae, Silver asked, “Father, I never expected to find out you were seeing someone. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His magenta eye widened at the hurt in his son’s voice. You and your grandma looked at him quizzically. Placing a hand on Silver’s arm, you rubbed it reassuringly. And definitely not because you could feel his toned and defined muscles.

“Ah, well your old man is entitled to his secrets.” Pointing to your grandma, he added, “Like my dearest!”

“I never kept it a secret. She just never asked, Lilia.” Your grandma retorted.

All three pairs of eyes fell on you. Suddenly finding your shoes the most interesting thing in the world, you chuckled stiffly, “Well…she's not wrong…”

Shaking her head, your grandma offered joyfully, “How about a nice cup of tea and muffins to settle things out!” Then nudging, who you now know as, Lilia, she winked, “We might not be the only one’s in a relationship soon enough.”

Catching her drift, he eyed the both of you playfully, “Ohoho! Oh lovely. I’ve always wanted grandchildren.”

Confusion fluttered through your features. Looking at each other, you were suddenly very much aware of the lack of space between you both. Jumping back, you both stared at each other bashfully. Your grandma and Silver’s father’s laughter floating in the distance. Your heart drumming against your rib cage at Silver’s shy face.

Sevens, I think I’m going to die!

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Omega!Gaz x Omega!reader x Alpha!Price….

Gaz has a pussy here, you’ve been warned. Either male omegas have cunts or he’s trans, pick whichever you prefer because I sure as hell don’t explain shit.

Omega-Omega couples were rare… but not unheard of.

You and Gaz were one of the rare examples of a pair of mated Omegas, and while it had been hard in the beginning (not for the reasons anyone assumes. Heats were, if anything, easier with another Omega) people around you would cite you two as an example of a perfect couple- just two people who loved each other more than anything else.

Gaz had worked hard to get where he was- to prove he could serve and hold his own right alongside betas and alphas without being a liability. It’d been hard, the military wasn’t exactly always the most progressive place, but Price had welcomed him into the 141 with open arms, treating him like he would any other soldier.

He’d felt accepted in the 141- at home, and after a while, he’d eventually decided to introduce you to his team, figuring you had a right to know the men who kept him from coming back home in a box and trusting Price to be accepting and respectful of your relationship (and also to keep the less socially-adept members of the team from making any off comments)

And it had been great- Price stood up to shake your hand as Gaz introduced you two, treating you like any other even when you fumbled the greeting and extended the wrong hand. He’d sat across from you and Gaz in the circular booth the group had claimed in the pub, giving the two of you kind smiles as he asked occasional, respectful questions about your relationship.

The night had nearly gone sideways when Soap had started to ask “So- like, the two of you, how does that work for your, you know.. hea-“ only to be immediately shut down with a stern glare from Price and the man Gaz had introduced as “Ghost” smacking him on the back of the neck.

You and Gaz had never considered opening up your relationship to an Alpha or beta. One too many insensitive comments (not unlike Soap’s, though at least his didn’t come from a place of malicious intent) and Alphas taking the first chance to trample over your relationship just because you were omegas has put you both off the subject as a whole.

But, Price’s protective demeanor, the scent of whiskey, smoke, and something distinctly him hanging off of him, the way he’d clap Gaz on the back or shoulder, treating him just like he would Ghost or Soap, the small, U-shaped smile he seemed to only give the two of you- and that was all it took for your resolve to crumble.

And Price? Well, he was just happy to have the two prettiest, sweetest omegas he’d ever met dropped right onto his lap.

All this time, he’d been keeping his emotions and desires under wraps- resisting the urge to shove his pretty new sergeant down on his cock until he choked and gagged, painstakingly applying the sticky, annoying little white patches over his scent glands so Gaz wouldn’t find his scent overwhelming or obnoxious and wouldn’t be able to tell when his scent got heavier after staring at Gaz’s ass a moment too long.

And then to find out his sergeant was mated? To another omega?? Oh the things that ran through his mind. The two of you would think him derange if you’d known the things he wanted to do to the two of you.

And of course, when he meets you, he’s only down worse. Seeing his sergeant and his precious girl he’d talk about so fondly- and he could blame him, you were a sight. A pretty girl like you for a pretty boy like Kyle, it was fitting.

That entire night at the pub, he’d been chanting don’t be a prick don't be a prick don't be a prick in his head like a mantra, desperately trying to stay professional and respectful. He was digging his nails into his thigh so hard trying to ground himself that he was half concerned he’d break skin.

Only to then, afterwards, find out that you two were pinning over him almost as bad as he was for you? To find out that the pair of omegas he wanted nothing more than to absolutely destroy were practically offering themselves up on a silver platter?

Oh, he was ecstatic.

When Price first gets the two of you into bed, he’s mean, sitting back in his chair and lighting one of his fancier cigars and smirking as he makes you two scissor and grind your clits together for him- not letting the two of you stop until he’s done with his cigar and both of you have cum.

He’s content to sit back and enjoy the sight, watching you cry and writhe under Gaz in over stimulation from already coming as he holds you tight and grinds his clit against yours desperately, panting out pleading, breathy apologies over not being able to cum faster.

Price likes to have the two of you kiss too- especially sweet kisses shared between the two of you that devolve into desperate, needy make out sessions all under Price’s watchful eyes.

He just likes to watch his omegas love on eachother- giving the two of you occasional instructions to give her a hickey for me, Gaz. Mark her all up for us. Love, how about you help our boy get out of those jeans? Good girl, good job.

He’ll give you or Gaz permission to hump the other’s thigh, only to take it away right as you're about to cum and laugh at the desperate, strangled plea he gets in return.

He’ll pull the two of you to your knees in front of him, having the two of you make out around and worship his cock. One of you will take him as far as you can in your mouth, while the other sucks and kisses at what doesn’t fit and at his heavy balls.

And fucking the two of you is an ordeal with how needy you can be- Price usually ends up with three fingers buried in one of your cunts and his cock stuffed deep in the other, trying desperately to keep pace and keep it together even with two whining, needy omegas under him.

[sheeluvsme]

John Soap mactavish headcannons !

LETTS GET READY TO RUMBLEEE!! Hi everyone! I saw how everyone really liked my last post about price and Valeria !!! So i figured I’ll do our boy soap next :))!! Who should I write about next? I was thinking könig…lmk!!

CW// This is SFW and NSFW!! there will be female anatomy used Lightly, also NOT proof read LMAOO , ANGST! ( warning nurse! Reader, brief death) semi public stuff? Just let me know if I missed anything!!

When you first met soap , you really thought he was WEIRD AS SHIT

He like completely puzzled you with his jokes 😭

You two met at a pub!! He had claimed to think your face was familiar and you told him you worked for army medical. You were a army nurse ! That’s when it clicked in his tiny little brain, because lord knows he’s been to medical lotssss of times.

The first thing that pulled him in was your laugh. When you finally started laughing at his stupid jokes he couldn’t help but smile like a teen boy.

Soap is also good to you! He i a sweetheart and lovessss taking you wherever you want to go, he mostly likes going shopping with your for two very important reasons 1. To make sure no one fucks with you 2. So he can get his favorite candy.

He actually likes watching you shop and be in your own little world! He thinks it’s cute because when he’s focused he does the same thing.

He knows you have anxiety about alottttt of things and he is right there for you! He knows public places scare you because of germs and also just some many loud people

He finds it funny your so loud and assistive at your place of work but as soon as you hit the public you turn into a shy little thing and he adores it!

Especially when you don’t want to bother people, your sitting there with your cart … waiting for this one person to move… and he’s like “ what you waitin’ for lass?” And you jester to the person in-front of you. He can’t help but smile and shake his head at you “ excuse meh’ ! We gotta get by you” he louder then he should of announced 😭

Soap always says the most random funny shit to you, he knows you have quite a gruesome sad job sometimes , so coming back home with him and his humor really helps!!

One day you absolutely came home in tears , you were shattered, your heart felt so so sore. He couldn’t help but immediately sore to you hold you. “ aye aye ..sweetheart what’s wrong-?! Did someone hurt you? Is it your boss again because I swea-“ you just shake your head no. You quietly explain to him through your tears a kid died on you. There was nothing you could really do but make them comfortable but you couldn’t help but feel sorrow. Because you definitely wanted kids with soap. So this scared you. He just holds you so tightly stroking your hair. “ it’s ok sweetheart. You did your absolute best. It’s ok..”

He always know how to exactly get you feeling better. Even if your sick ! You yell at him to stay away from you because you’re sick and have gross germs!! But he literally couldn’t care he picks you up anyways kissing you and hugging you!

He wasn’t very educated on periods at first but you definitely taught him , maybe a little too graphic because after he hugged you and told you how lucky he is to have a dick LMAOO

On your period he like genuinely calls it ‘ Shark week! ‘

He’s the type to say , when you ask him to grab you pads and says ‘ what size pussy you got ‘ PLSPSLLSL

You catch this man listening to the lady Gaga or Katie Perry 100% AND YOU KNOW WHAT HE LITERALLY HAS NO SHAME

He thinks your just the prettiest thing wearing his shirts !! Makes him secretly go nuts

He admires you a lot , the way you have to be up at ASS O’CLOCK in the morning for work and you still make him lunch or morning coffee???? He wants to be YOU when he grows up LMAOO

NSFW

He also like price has a primal urge to make you his baby momma LMAOO

He loves telling you that during sex “ yeah? Like that? You like when I’m deep inside you hm? Gonna’ getcha’ fucking pregnant with my kid.”

He is a MAJOR bitter

He loves biting you everywhere and leaving his marks on you. It’s his favorite thing getting up after you watching you slip on your scrubs and try and cover your neck bites with makeup. He can’t help but cheekily smile

He is also a MAJOR pussy eater , loveessss eating you like a starved man , especially overstimulation.

He will eat you over and over and over till your literally sobbing and saying you can’t anymore ( he of course respects your request)

He is BIGGGG on in public stuff ‼️‼️

Like if your out for a nice dinner you can’t help but send a glare his way as his hand creeps up your thigh. “ what do you think your doing?” You playfully smack his hand away. “ what dose it look like I’m doing hm?” He whispers. “ it looks like your focused on the wrong food.” You keep yourself together as you sip your wine. “ I’m a man who likes his dessert before his dinner what can I say?” You choke on your wine.

DONT even get me started when your out clubbing together going to a pub with a few of 141 to have a good time , you yourself are having too much of a good time. Your buzzed , warm , and feeling damn good, your make up worked out perfectly and your clothes fit you JUST right.

Soap leaves his eyes off you for one minute and he sees gaz and price chuckling as they point to you , clearly having the time of your life in the crowded dance floor , soap is chuckling too until he notices a guy gawking you and obviously too close for his comfort. Your oblivious to what’s happening honestly there’s so many people smooshed together, your too focused on dancing.

He quickly sets down his drink squeezing through people, quickly apologizing. He grabs your waist quickly pulling you close before looking back at the guy that was very close to touching what’s his. Soap quickly says �� step off. She’s with me.” You quickly turn around to see your beautiful boyfriend and smile “ Johnny!! I was wondering when you’d come out here and show off your sweet dance moves!” Obviously teasing him. Because his ass can not dance 😭

Soap hears you and smiles but he’s quietly brewing. Suddenly he’s dragging you to the clubs bathroom. Thank god it’s a single use. “ wha- cmon was my dancing that embarrassing?” You tease him wondering what the hell is happening. “ no love. Not that. Just..” her huffs grabbing you pulling you close. “ people keep ogling’ whats mine. I don’t take very kindly to it.” Your cheeks heat up. You’ve never seen him like this but your not complaining. You didn’t even notice people looking at you. “ well I promise I’m all yours Johnny..” he quickly sticks his lips to yours. Hungrily kissing you , licking into you. “ soap- every one else is gonna-“ he quickly cuts you off. “ let them. I’m having you right now whether they like it or not.”

Soap seems more dominant but he is half and half sometimes he just needs to be your good boy ‼️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️🙋🏻‍♀️

He absolutely LOVESSSSS when you top him or sit on his face. If he’s tired but still really wants you THATS when he turns into putty in your hands.

He fucking loves when you pull on his Mohawk ‼️ he can’t help but whimper and god damn is so beautiful.

BIG ON PRAISE let that poor boy know he’s doing good!!! Degrading him just makes him feel competitive, then the tables will turn..

He loves begging you to let him cum in you , “ please- please let me cum in you. Fucking hell!- haa- please please. I want you to feel good-“ of course with him you obviously CANT say no!!

He’s also pretty good with after care, he likes taking baths with you because soap does enjoy a good bubble bath!!

Next morning you wake up late because it’s your day off, he’s gone for work already but you smell something? You walk into the kitchen and he made you breakfast and coffee with a small note. “ gotta take care of my girl after she takes care of me , I love ya ! -your secret admirer” and ofc he spells like half of that wrong but its ok because you do indeed love your boyfriend!

Thank you for reading!!! Hope you enjoyed <33

[danibee33]

Don’t mind me.. just thinking about singledad/neighbor!Soap 🫶🏻

Thinking about how curious he would be to come home after work to see the big moving truck blocking his drive.

The townhome that shared a wall with his had been blissfully empty for months now, the last tenant had been a pompous old cunt, the kind that nagged and complained about how noisy the kids were.

Ah, his kids- who were currently, probably, driving the nanny just a bit mad. Two boys is no easy feat, much less a 2 year old with the same mischievous tendencies as his father, and a 5 year old who was too smart for his own good.

“Ach, definitely gets that from his mother.” he always says, even though everyone knows the man is smart as a whip.

But it’s when he nearly collides with a brown, cardboard box that he finally meets you.

You, who looked nearly on the verge of tears as you peeked your face around the side of the box before sitting it down,

“I’m- sorry..”, you apologized at least three more times before even making eye contact with him, looking up to see the outrageously handsome man just barely holding back a smile.

Soap’s curiosity was more piqued than ever, hearing your thick American accent- seeing you fumble for words before blowing out a long sigh,

“It’s been a long night- uh- day. I don’t know anymore.. I had a thirteen hour layover, and I haven’t slept in I think over twenty-four hours now? and you.. but, none of that matters. Ha.. um, hi.”

Oh- Fucking hell, you’re adorable. And he’s in trouble.

You extended a trembling hand, your name spoken so softly he could’ve missed it if he were further away- but he thinks he likes the sound of it.

“John MacTavish.. nice tae meet ye, lass.”

The weak giggle that tumbles from between your lips is a sweet sound, one he instantly finds himself craving more of-

“Somethin’ funny?” He asks, cocking his head to the side, your hand still in his because he noticed you haven’t made any effort to pull away.

And fuuuuck, the way your cheeks bloom an even brighter red makes your features somehow even more gorgeous- it’s honestly not fair, the universe giving him the prettiest little thing for a neighbor.

“No.. I just- your accent- and you, you’re very nice, oh- oh my god.” You finally let go of him, scrubbing the same hand over your face, “You’re.. my neighbor. And I’m blocking your spot. Christ alive.. I’ll move it, I’m sorry-“

Before he can tell you it’s fine, that you really didn’t have to, you had already flitted away.

+++

He doesn’t see you for another week. He sees the moving truck disappear, spots a sparkly holiday wreath on the door the next day, hears you quietly moving about mostly in the evenings, and sees your chimney puffing white smoke- but never you.

Until finally, the sound of his snow shovel draws you out.

You hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, it was that early. Sleepily making your way downstairs, pulling on your ridiculous fluffy robe as you go- Scotland winters would certainly take some getting used to.

It’s then you hear the oddly repetitive sound, scraping followed by a dull thump. Over and over.

You peek through the curtains, seeing your neighbor- your very good looking neighbor- bundled up in a thick plaid jacket, his overgrown mohawk covered by a black beanie, the dark curly ends just barely poking out around his neck.

He’s shoveling your walkway, oddly tan cheeks colored pink from the cold and exertion-

Without thought, you unlatch your chain lock, flipping the deadbolt next before yanking the door open,

“What are you doing?”

Nice.. real fucking smooth-

Soap looks up in surprise, big blue eyes meeting yours before straying- seeing your legs bare under the fuzzy pink robe, your hair pulled up in a messy bun, little baby hairs flying this way and that. (God, he’s so fucked, isn’t he?)

You watch him stand straight, casually leaning against his shovel when that same lopsided smirk as before graces his lips,

“Well.. we got a good bit o’ snow last night, and I figured since I were already up and at ‘em, I’d do the neighborly thing, y’ken?”

——

🫣🫣 oh god, I’ve watched waaayyyy too many cheesy holiday movies - send help.

[bb-eilish]

Can you please write some bella swan fluff 💟

OMG YES I CAN!!

Pairing: Bella Swan x reader

warnings: gay kissing❤️

You remember the first day you met her, you were sitting with your friends at lunch. Angie freaking out about what she’s gonna do for the school newspaper, Jessica suggested the new girl and Angie’s face lit up.

You heard about the new girl from them but never got to see her for yourself, the boys couldn’t shut up about her though. After taking a sip of your water you feel the urge to pee, sighing lowly you excuse yourself. Making your way to the bathroom, it being gross as usual. They seriously need to clean up in here more, this is torture.

Finally done you leave the stall to wash your hands, thinking of the new girl again. You wonder if she’s pretty, your heart starting to pick up a pace a bit. Scrubbing your hands a little faster you wash the soap off and dry them on your pants as you basically run out of the bathroom.

Making your way back to lunch you scan the room, just looking at everyone interact with each other. Your eyes meet the table with your friends once more and it’s almost like time slows as you make eye contact with the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen, you try not to trip over your feet as you get closer to the table.

Shyly, you sit back down where you are and your friends jump at the chance to introduce you, Mike talking the loudest, “Y/n meet the new girl, Bella. She just moved here from Arizona” he practically yells while he and Ethan shove each other.

You make eye contact with her, you swallow before saying, “Nice to meet you, Bella” trying your hardest to not ogle her too much.

“Y-yea, nice to meet you too. Y/n was it?” She says while holding her hand out. You nod your head giggling, reaching for her hand.

The handshake making you blush, after you’re done greeting each other you look back at the others. Angie is giggling with Jessica and the boys looked stunned.

“What” you question, they’re eyeing you two like you just kissed or something. They go back to talking amongst themselves and you start eating. Hyper-aware of Bella the entire time.

Your heart only slows when you say bye to everyone, leaving to go to your class. But of course before you leave you make eye contact with Bella as she waves at you, smiling softy you’re on your way.

Math was filled with thoughts about her, how pretty her hair was, how her eyes sparkled. You were totally swooning over the new girl, and her pretty hair. You wondered what it would feel like between your fingers, you snap out of it and finish the math packet in front you.

____________________________________

You’re with everybody on your way out of school. They seem to really like Bella too, except Jessica. She kept saying snarky things and it started to get on your nerves, Bella thankfully didn't seem hurt by it. Your friends walk her to her truck, teasing as they see it for the first time.

You all hang around it, cracking jokes and shoving each other. They start leaving one by one, and suddenly it’s just you and Bella. Not thinking you say, “I love your hair, it’s so pretty” while reaching for a strand.

Suddenly realizing what you’re doing, you apologize profusely while blushing.

“Thank you..” She mutters while looking around, you panic and say your goodbyes. Starting the walk to your house. You don’t get very far when she calls out, “Y/n, would, um, would you like a ride home?” She’s rubbing her neck as you turn to look at her.

The blush coming back all at once, you softly smile at her and call back, “I would love that”.

You can’t believe a pretty girl like her is giving you a ride. She gets in the driver's seat as you make your way to the passenger door, you tell her your address and she plugs it into her GPS.

The ride home was actually really nice, you expected it to be awkward. But you and Bella actually have a lot in common. You both used to take Ballet as kids, you both moved here recently plus more.

When you arrive at your house you take a deep breath and ask if she wants to come inside and hang out.

“Y-yea, I"d love to” She stutters, looking like a deer caught in headlights. You smile and hold the front door open. She walks past you and you realize she smells amazing, you scold yourself for being creepy.

Leading her to your room, you ask if she wanted to start on homework or do something else. She agreed on doing homework.

You sit down on your bed, next to your pillow, she sits next to you on your left. "What subject are you gonna work on?" you mutter, glancing at her. You end up staring a bit, she seriously takes your breath away. The way her brown curled hair sits on her shoulders and cascades down her arms. It frames her face perfectly, especially her cheekbones.

She turns your way and catches you staring, you offer her a smile. She sheepishly smiles back and says "English, I'm not very good at it"

"Wow that's great" you chuckle, she looks at you questioningly while giggling.

"Wait no, I mean that's my best subject. I'll help you" You laugh, doubling over. Your laugh soon infects her as she can't keep the laughter down. Her giggling soon turned into more.

You both calm down eventually and get out your English binders, giggling here and there.

"Alright, what's your homework?" You ask while flipping through the binder, "parts of speech" she murmurs. You can see her glancing at you in your peripheral. You wonder if she feels the same way, your heart immediately reacting to it.

You go to the section in your binder that has parts of speech, luckily finding a cheat sheet you made. It has the definitions of each part and examples, your fingers go to pluck the paper out but you retract your hand quickly.

You wince as you look at your index finger, a small cut etched in your skin right above your nail.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay? Do you need a bandaid?" She asks as she digs in her backpack, coming back with said bandaid in hand.

"I'm fine, but sure" You say flapping your hand, the small cut burning pretty bad.

She holds out her hand and you freeze for a moment, a second later putting your hand in hers. She already peeled off the paper and tentatively wraps the bandage around your finger. You can't help but stare at her, her tongue poking out in concentration.

When she's done she looks up at you, mouth slightly agape.

"Thanks.." you trail off, both of you still captured by the other's eyes, you drift your eyes down to her lips for a split second and you're suddenly leaning in.

It's like you're in a trance, she has such a way of captivating you. Meeting you halfway your lips cautiously meet. You pull away slightly to let out a shuddered breath and go back in, kissing her with more confidence.

She kisses back more as well and your heart is leaping in your chest, you pull away fully. "I think you're so pretty" you confess, unashamed. Her eyes widen and the blush covering her face deepens.

You see her take a breath and lean in again, kissing you once more.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

Just had an idea, what if s2 was Billy figuring out about the three teens that no one will talk about. And why the prettiest boy he's ever met has gigantic claw marks on his shoulders.

Tommy noticed them, Billy saw him side glance the marks a few times but never bring it up. It was concern and confusion that made Billy’s gut churn, unprecedented emotions based on how roughly they’d been treating Harrington for the last four days, but worry nonetheless.

Billy wanted to reach out and touch them. The almost jagged lines. Like a large cat had jumped him from behind and tore up his shoulders by trying to bring him down. Scars that were mostly healed, leading all the way down just past his shoulder blades.

Tommy set his soap back and didn’t meet Billy’s eyes, “Thought you ditched boy scouts, Harrington?” Billy clenched his fists and tried not to reach over and sucker punch the idiot in the gut.

Steve was all dewy eyed to the point that Billy felt the need to…touch. He lifted a finger. Steve refocused on the two around him and chuckled humorlessly. But gave no other response. Billy made sure to narrow his eyes enough that when Tommy reopened his mouth, it immediately shut again.

-

Steve wasn’t at school the next day. In english, Billy couldn’t help but blame Tommy’s thoughtlessness. Nancy sat next to him with a   medical gauze around her forearm and bags under her eyes. Billy didn’t waver when she caught him staring.

“What do you want, Hargrove?” her voice didn’t steel as much as it usually did.

“Where’s Harrington?” he demanded, almost asked to leave the room after hearing how obvious he sounded.

Nancy raised one of her brows and set her book down, “He’s—” she looked down at her papers. “Just keep to yourself, Hargrove.” He checked the teacher talking to a girl in the front of the room and leaned toward Nancy more so he could speak lower.

“Either you tell me now or I find out sooner or later.” Nancy didn’t lift her chin. “Was it a fight? Did Harrington try to get friendly with the wrong sort again?” He didn’t miss the way Nancy’s fists clenched. “I heard you messed him up a bit last year. Your new boyfriend get too rough or somethin’ again?”

She hunched her shoulders and Billy tilted his ear towards her, “Don’t you dare bring Jonathan into this.”

Billy smirked, “Touchy subject. So,” he looked between her scowl and her brimming tears, “Who was it then? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure Steve has perfect attendance. He wouldn’t just skip unless something was wrong, his language grade is bad enough.”

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

“I’m just stating a fact.”

Nancy pointed her thin finger at him, “And stop talking like you know him. You don’t know shit. You don’t know what he’s been through or about the monsters that hurt—” She abruptly cut herself off and looked down. Like her mess up was nothing.

But Billy got the gist.

-

Neil went to bed at exactly 10:30 PM every night. That gave Billy approximately nine hours to leave and return.

He left and prayed in curses as he rolled down the street in the dark. Drove all the way to the Harrington house and tried to ignore the shadows as he ran to the front door.

“Open up, Steve!” The door opened less than a minute later. “Why don’t you tell me about anything? Nancy is really bad at giving information and she’s also really bad at keeping her mouth shut, so we’re never telling her about whatever this is for sure.”

“What are you saying, Billy?”

Billy didn’t have an exact answer to Steve’s question. All he knew was that Steve had a nasty cut along his jaw and he limped as he walked through the foyer.

“Was it the shadow things that did this to you?” Steve was brighter than he was perceived, he knew people. And he knew Billy just as much as Billy knew him, maybe even better. He didn’t have to explain things to Harrington.

“When did you see?”

Billy hesitated and then leaned down to pull up his pant leg, revealing the fresh scar by his ankle, “Something grabbed me the other night. Figured the police wouldn’t know what the fuck to do. So…” he shrugged and quieted as he saw Steve nodding.

Harrington started pulling up the hem of his shirt, “We’ve somehow managed to keep this crap under the wraps, it’d be a shit show if we lost it now. Hopper would have our heads.”

Billy followed the shirt as it was strewn over an accent table. He closed his eyes and looked away. Steve’s shoulders were dark, raw pink. Reflections of the old lines were re-etched, something out of a horror movie. He caught more in the mirror above the table by accident and pressed his lips together. The pretty, pale expansion of Steve’s mole spotted back was ruined by even longer rips. Some were badly covered in band-aids while others looked haphazardly stitched together.

“Nancy’s hands shake a lot when she’s under pressure.”

Billy sucked in a breath and straightened up, Steve looked unsurprised at his reaction. He could see him trying to offer a consoling smile, but it landed flat as he shivered in the cold draft of the house.

Billy panicked a little and stepped forward to finally touch, “Common, I’m gonna take care of you, Princess.”

[moonctzeny]

Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten  x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

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

The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

 "Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.  

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you. 

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough. 

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he 

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made. 

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you. 

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning. 

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight. 

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him. 

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings. 

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines. 

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty. 

“He doesn’t even love you” 

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?” 

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance. 

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling? 

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands. 

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over. 

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you. 

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

[dreaminpetals]

I love how you write Andrew, could I have a little mermaid au where his s/o is a mermaid and it follows the events of the disney movie?? Or it can be a normal mermaid fic if you're not familiar with it, no pressure. Keep up the great work <3

🌊 the little mermaid // andrew kreiss

you had always been fascinated with human culture, particularly the people that lived above your aquatic kingdom. the castle you lived in was located directly under what your friend bonbon called a railway. everyday a train would zoom past, full of humans with different lives and destinations. you longed to grow legs and ride a train yourself. alas, you were stuck under the sea with seahorse drawn carriages as your main mode of transportation.

bonbon had been teaching you about conductors, the brave humans who controlled the trains, before you realized you were almost late to see your favourite train fly by. it was going to arrive any minute now and you needed to see it.

unfortunately, when you swam as fast as your little tail could take you to the railway, embers and rubble were scattered throughout the terrain as far as the eye could see. the train had... crashed?

your first instinct was to search for survivors of the wreckage. after digging through heaps of metal and ash, you found a man struggling to stay afloat. "i've got you!" you yelped, battling the debris with your tail and bringing him to the surface to rest atop a loose seat from the train.

when you got a good look at the human you saved, it was as if cupid struck you with one of his arrows. he was a man with skin so pale it was almost grey, and beautiful white hair despite looking so young. it was unlike anything you've ever seen before, did all humans look like this? his eyes fluttered open and met yours. they were a coral hue and absolutely breathtaking. looking up, you recognized his hat from the stories bonbon rehearsed to you... he was the train conductor! oh, you were so glad that he was safe.

merfolk were meant to be kept a secret from the humans lest they be hunted for their scales, so once a spotlight flashed over the man you returned home, giggling all the way back. you got to touch a human and it was a handsome one too! you couldn't wait to tell your sisters about it.

arriving at the castle, you were instantly greeted by two of your sisters, emily and vera. they both wondered why you were covered in soot.

oh yeah.

you were a bit dirty from rescuing that train conductor.

they washed you up with some soap while you gushed to them about the boy you saw, but none of them were very impressed with your actions.

"humans are the reason we lost our father, he was killed by pirates, do you not remember?" vera scolded you as she massaged soap into your scalp, "there are plenty of mermen for you to choose from so please, please stay away from the surface. i don't want to lose a sister," if she wanted to nail guilt into your head then it certainly worked, you felt awful. was saving him really that heinous of a crime? you couldn't simply ignore someone if they were about to die, human or not.

emily scrubbed at your tail and tut-tutted you, "humans are dangerous creatures and only wish to hunt us down, i'd advise seeking mental help if you find yourself attached to one... please y/n, we only want the best for you."

halfway through her speech you suddenly became dizzy. you heard the sound of a young girl cackling in your ear, and you swore you saw a flash of purple swimming away, right outside your window...

*

the sea witch, yidhra, let out a boisterous laugh when she learned of your current situation. a mermaid has fallen in love with a human? oh, this was too good!

yidhra specialized in making deals with unsuspecting merfolk, she collected their souls like an oyster would collect pearls. young lovestruck girls were the most vulnerable of targets, she could see herself winning big off of you. the daughter of miss nightingale, ruler of the seas? you being a princess in love meant you could hand over the key to the kingdom if you could spend just a day with your beloved. dangerous schemes swam through her head, this was going to be the deal of a lifetime.

meanwhile, above the surface, the train conductor who nearly tasted death was going nuts thinking about you. hushed whispers of townsfolk taught him that mermaids were ravenous creatures who only sought to lure sailors from their ships to consume their souls, but a mermaid had saved him. nobody believed andrew; they insisted he had been pulled from the wreckage by one of his crewmates and merely hallucinated a mermaid. a mermaid would never save him, they would only drag him down further.

their words ate away at andrew. were mermaids as misunderstood as he was? his entire life, andrew had been cast away as a monster. rumours circled around that his lack of pigment was caused by sucking out the souls of his train passengers for nutrients. the mystery girl he saw wouldn't leave his mind, every waking moment he heard her voice, a melodic chirp that promised to save him... if only he recorded her appearance, he couldn't remember what she looked like if he did try to find her. only her voice. he longed to meet her. he longed to repay her, nobody deserves to endanger themselves to save andrew kreiss of all people.

*

when you stirred, all of your sisters were gathered around your clamshell bed. frantic whispers filled the room as you sat up and placed a heat compress on your head. it felt like someone hexed you.

"she has a slight fever, but i trust that y/n will make a full recovery with some rest," emily explained to tracy, your youngest sister who was beside herself with worry. "she likely went into shock from seeing a human up close. fret not, demi is preparing some medicine as we speak."

soon enough, their voices fizzled out and were replaced by a ghoulish group of whispers in your ear. it sounded like several children and an old woman speaking all at once. "come to yidhra's domain, sweet princess. you will meet your human love if you follow my instructions." your human love? your ears perked up the moment you heard her mention the train conductor you had fallen for. suddenly gaining a burst of energy, you told your sisters you were going to take a breather in the castle garden and swam off. they were left dumbfounded.

before you raced to yidhra's domain, you told your feathered friend bonbon what you were up to, just in case something happened. you had no idea how much this would pay off later on.

yidhra's domain intimidated you the moment it came into view. it was a serpent shaped cave made of bones surrounded by gardens of disembodied, broken souls. they moaned and weeped as you swam past them. miss nightingale warned you about yidhra, insisting that you never make a deal with the sea witch. however... she wanted to reunite you with the train conductor, she wanted to help you! none of your sisters understood how you felt, but yidhra did.

"is yidhra here?" you called out to an empty room lined with bookshelves and potions, a cauldron brewing in the centre. then, a pale blue woman with a serpent's tail emerged from the dark.

"sweet princess, have you come to make a deal with me?" she purred, tilting your chin up with a bony finger. you nodded. "you'd go against mommy's wishes for a human boy?" this time her tone was more condescending, but you nodded anyways.

"he's a train conductor, a brave man... oh yidhra, he's perfect, you'd know if you met him!"

yidhra snickered, slithering back to her bookshelves and carefully removing a contract with a floating pen. "what if i told you that you could see him again, dearie?" she used magic to teleport the contract into your hands, along with the pen. "if you sign this contract, you will become a human for three days. if the boy gives you true love's kiss by sunset of the third day, you'll stay as a human forever and fall in love, yadda yadda,"

you nodded, it sounded like a perfect deal. who knew yidhra could be so generous?

she gave a deafening clap of her hands. "hush. i'm not done." then a devilish grin corrupted her features, "if he doesn't kiss you, then you can kiss you and your kingdom goodbye. i will replace miss nightingale as ruler of the seas and you'll be the prettiest soul in my patch. deal?"

silence enveloped both of you as you thought this through. three days was plenty of time, all you had to do was kiss. he was your true love, your soulmate, it was a naive thought but you had never felt so much for another person before.

"silly me, i forgot to mention," yidhra stifled a cackle, "you won't have a voice, sweetie. you'll be a mute. will this conductor still fall for you when you can't chit chat with him?"

damn her, of course there had to be a catch.

you gave a shaky nod, mumbling that it was a deal. the laugh she let out was unlike anything you've ever heard, what was so funny? she couldn't stop howling as she dropped various potions into her cauldron, steam and green flames overriding your senses. "sing! sing for me, you foolish girl!"

singing a lullaby you grew up with, you signed the contract and felt your voice fade away along with your consciousness.

*

when you rose, you were on the shores of a freezing cold sea, the conductor staring down at you in disbelief. thank god for the seaweed covering your shivering form.

andrew blinked at you, visibly concerned. "i ah... i... i noticed you," he reached out a trembling hand which you gladly took to hoist yourself up. your feet buckled under you. wait. feet? looking down you noticed that you were a human, you had legs and feet! you could hardly contain your excitement, yidhra was helping you! your attention shifted back to the man in front of you, pulling you close to his chest so you wouldn't fall. "you washed up on the... shore. are you okay?" he was fumbling over his words and seemed so uncomfortable around you, like he wasn't used to the skin to skin contact.

you tried to answer but your words were caught in your throat. she wasn't messing around when she took your voice, you couldn't produce any type of sound whatsoever.

"ah, you're... you're scared of me, aren't you?" andrew tried to hide the hurt in his voice, "so scared you can't walk or talk. well, run off to your family now. go tell them you saw andrew the train conductor, that he tried to eat you... i know you're thinking it," andrew. your love's name was andrew!

he tried to drop you and turn on his heel to leave, but the moment you hit the grass he had to turn back around to check if you were alright again. he couldn't leave you.

you pointed to your throat as you stood up, knees wobbly. you made an 'x' shape with your arms and shook your head. andrew had an unreadable expression, but slowly began to nod in understanding. "oh, you can't speak? i'm... sorry for assuming, the people around here are... they're... not the kindest. they're wolves."

his eyes flicked to your body and saw the seaweed barely clinging to you. did you fall overboard or something? he wanted to respect your privacy so he stared at the water beside you as he set his coat over your shoulders, still averting his gaze. it was cozy and smelled like mint. the fur lining on the inside warmed you right up. "you would have froze in that. i'm not sure where you're... from, but... ah, just follow me," you gave him a grin and he walked you back to his home which wasn't far. it was right beside the grand railway you loved observing. it felt like a dream to visit it while andrew had his arms around you, even if he didn't know who you were.

he saw your jaw drop at the sight of the railway and the parked train. "that's my family's train, folks here aren't too... nice to me, but... they appreciate all our hard work," from what you could gather, he seemed to be an outcast. you related to that.

once you arrived at his house, he dashed upstairs to what you presumed to be his mother's room, because he returned with a stunning, sequinned dress. it was the same colour as your mermaid's tail!

after you were dried off and dressed, he sat down at the dinner table with you. for dinner you two ate some beef stew, one of his favourites. it was so amusing to him how you tried to brush your hair with a fork before the meal. he wanted to make small talk with you, but what would we say? it wasn't just the fact you were mute, but he's never eaten dinner with anyone other than his mother before. she passed years ago and he was left to fend for himself in their shared house, he's been entirely alone since you turned up. what could he say..?

"may i guess your name, miss?" andrew asked after swallowing some carrots, his voice as shaky as usual.

you gave him a playful thumbs up.

"great... hm, you strike me as a galatea."

thumbs down.

"violetta, then?"

thumbs down.

"ahh, okay... strike three, you remind me of a y/n."

thumbs up, and a bright smile on your face!

"n-no way, y/n? well, y/n... i'm sure you don't want to live with a monster for the rest of your days, so... i'll contact rescue... you'll be home by tomorrow morning,"

that made you flinch. tomorrow morning? you had to kiss him within three days! you vigorously shook your head and he tried to decipher what you meant.

"do you have a home? memory loss?"

you shook your head to both.

"ah, so you... saw your home get destroyed when you washed up. i'm sorry y/n." he stirred his beverage to break the silence, but the look he gave you was nothing short of heartbroken. how would you ever tell him you were a mermaid? "a similar thing happened yesterday... a train i was on crashed, and... a uh, mermaid saved me. nobody believes me though, but i felt her tail, heard her voice..."

his words made you freeze.

"you're the only person i can say this to, but... i think i love her."

you fainted.

*

after tucking you into his mother's bed, andrew headed outside for some fresh air. the salty smell of the sea would always help steel his nerves. running his calloused fingers through his hair, he reflected on the chaotic past two days he was being dragged through.

a mute girl who lived on a ship crashed and landed right in front of his home. he could barely handle the pressure of caring for you. you were adorable, charming, and the kindest person he had met, but he wanted to find the mermaid who saved him. he wasn't sure if what he felt for you was love or not, all he could think about was the mysterious mermaid.

then, as if fate hadn't been unpredictable enough, he heard her voice coming from a few feet away. an ethereal woman emerged from the sea, silky black hair matching her pitch black dress. she looked so mysterious, but her voice was all too familiar to andrew.

"oh, my sweet conductor, i became human out of love for you... please, let us marry as soon as possible!" the woman spoke in that relaxing, life saving voice. he could listen to it all day. he didn't know that she was hijacking his mind with a powerful love spell, he would become infatuated with more than her voice very soon.

"m-my name is andrew kreiss, miss... miss...?"

"tomie yidhra. but oh, how i yearn to be tomie kreiss! i don't view you as a monster in the slightest, i only wish to nurture you and love you for the rest of my days... you're the strongest and bravest man i know, please marry me! marry me andrew!"

how could he say no to those words, dripping out of the air like honey? no, really. he couldn't say no.

"i would love to."

"the day after tomorrow, at sunset... let us be wed, andrew."

*

the next day, you woke up to the sight of andrew looming over you again. you saw him give a silent fist bump when you sat up, he must have been ill with worry all night.

"oh! you're awake, that's good, miss. miss y/n, i have something unbelievable to tell you..."

you tilted your head to a curious angle, silently urging for him to continue.

"do you recall my story of a mermaid who saved me? she grew legs last night and visited me... tomie yidhra, we'll be marrying tomorrow... i would ah, love for you to come,"

you tried to scream but it was silent.

that bitch.

that wicked, evil bitch.

she took advantage of the fact andrew only recognized your voice and impersonated you. you needed to give him true love's kiss before their wedding. he was planning to marry yidhra. yidhra would kill him!

fueled by the fear of losing him, you bravely draped your arms around andrew's neck and gave him the deepest, most desperate kiss you could possibly give. he immediately pried his lips off yours and rubbed the back of his neck in humiliation.

"y-y/n! you're... you're great and all, but... i love tomie. please don't be hurt..." it was so strange and tragic, every time he spoke yidhra's human name it looked like he was under some kind of hypnosis, he wasn't his usual self. why would closed off andrew suddenly decide to marry her? tears brimmed at your eyes thinking of how foolish you were. "i have to leave now. work. i hope i didn't... ruin anything." he hurried out the door, giving you one last sad look before leaving you alone.

silent wails and shrieks of agony were caught in your throat, glass burrowing itself inside every inch of your body. your sisters were right. bonbon was right. miss nightingale was right. you should have left andrew alone, he wouldn't be tricked into marrying a sea witch this way. you ran outside, back to the shore you washed up on, and tried to swim back home, in case it gave you a tail. it didn't. you were still a human. you wanted nothing more than to reach yidhra's domain and strangle her yourself.

*

as you writhed in despair, bonbon flew overheard and recognized you. he saw the wedding boat being prepared and assumed your dreams were coming true, was andrew already engaged? he hoped not, and headed to the wedding boat to investigate.

there, he saw a woman with raven hair taking her makeup off and preparing for bed. except her reflection... her reflection showed the wicked sea witch, yidhra. then, in your voice, bonbon heard her shout for room service. this woman andrew was marrying... it was that vile witch, disguised as the woman who selflessly saved his life.

he flung some of his fecal matter through the window out of spite, and yidhra shrieked in your voice. yup, there was no doubting it, he has to interfere.

*

the next day, wedding bells rang and all you wanted was to drop dead. none of the guests even liked andrew and of course nobody knew who yidhra was, they were only attending his wedding out of curiosity. they were curious what ill woman would marry a demon.

you dabbed away the tears with your handkerchief and noticed that andrew was looking anywhere but you as he hooked arms with the bride. they were giving their vows, seconds away from kissing, until a starfish shot out of the water and hit yidhra square in the face.

then a dolphin flopped on deck.

then several octopi stuck to the crowd.

just what was going on here?

you began to recognize some of the creatures that made their way on the ship, and if you weren't mistaken, you could hear bonbon's voice in the distance... he was shouting 'attack'?

finally, you saw your sisters emerge from the sea.

"don't marry tomie, andrew! she's a witch! y/n was the mermaid who turned into a hu-"

before martha could finish, you felt a dull pain in your legs. oh no. casting a horrified glance to the horizon, the sun was setting.

"stupid girl!" yidhra transformed back into her serpent form, and spoke in her usual vile voice. "you may have found me out, but you didn't get your true love's kiss! andrew chose ME!" she gave her usual boisterous laugh, and with a stomp of her tail, the ship flipped overboard.

"andrew!" you called out, searching for him once again. your voice was back, you couldn't believe it. he was floating on a seat, just like when you saved him for the first time. "andrew, it's me, i'm sorry... i was so stupid," a gloved hand wiped the tears from your eyes, and he gave a content smile when he heard your voice. it fit you much better than that raggedy witch.

"it's okay, y/n... so, it was you all along...?" he gave a sad laugh when you nodded. you leaned in to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated, he was actually leaning into the kiss this time and it felt magical. the moment was quickly killed when you saw yidhra holding miss nightingale, ripping off her mask and placing it on her own face. this was terrible news. that mask helped her maintain balance between all the creatures of the sea, it was her main source of strength and wisdom. if it fell into the wrong hands, the results would be catastrophic.

and it just did.

yidhra grew ten times her usual size and towered above everyone scrambling for land. storms brewed in the sky and the aura of the evening changed, everyone was in grave danger.

"idiot girl, handing off her kingdom for a boy... why don't you kiss one last time before you sleep with the fishes!" yidhra bellowed and you couldn't take it anymore. you scooped up andrew and swam to a docked sailboat with a large wooden spike at the front. andrew wasn't a violent person in the slightest, but he was the only one who could kill yidhra right now and save the sea.

he began steering, a bit rusty, and reached yidhra's blindspot. he could sense the worry in her voice as she called out her followers. they were the ones who sent you those messages, they were working under her...! andrew steered straight into them and you had to look away. what you saw horrified you even more. miss nightingale was slowly being transformed into one of those soulless creatures from yidhra's garden, and judging by the sudden jolt of pain in your tail, the same would be happening to you very soon. "andrew, please hurry!" you cried out to him.

in the blink of an eye, causing a whole lot of trauma for andrew, he crashed the ship into yidhra's snake body. she howled in pain before andrew dealt the final blow with his shovel. yidhra disintegrated into what looked like confetti, hideous scaly confetti. the sky returned to normal and from it fell miss nightingale's mask. the soul stealing process ended quickly for you and miss nightingale. she retrieved her mask and freed all of the other soulless merfolk in the garden, as well as moving andrew to the shore where he could rest. he appeared to have passed out.

hours passed and all you could do was sit on a rock across from andrew's sleeping form, watching him intently. you had one chance with him and you blew it, you were a mermaid again. he looked so serene when he slept, but the scars littering his body told you that he's fought battles you couldn't even imagine. nothing has ever been so close to you but so far.

andrew finally opened his eyes and saw you. his face lit up when his gaze met yours, but quickly returned to a frown when your tail flicked towards him. you wouldn't have legs ever again.

as you two stared in disbelief, your family rose from the water. "y/n," your mother hummed as she placed a hand on her mask, "you've grown so much."

in a flash, your tail began to sparkle and shift, but it wasn't painful like how yidhra treated you. your mother's powers came from loving you, not tricking you. your tail slowly split into two, into...

two legs.

no words could describe how you felt, your head snapped around to your girls who were wiping their eyes in awe. "go on, sweetheart. be with him." electricity filled your veins.

they finally realized how wrong they were about humans.

taking a tentative step onto the shallow ocean floor, you felt the sand squish between your toes and collapse under your heel. in a bout of pure glee, you sprinted towards andrew. he caught you in his arms and twirled you around, staring lovingly into your eyes. neither of you could believe this was happening.

"let's go home," you cooed.

"yeah. let's."

this time, when andrew walked back home with you, his butterflies were caused by complete adoration for you, not because he feared for your safety. he felt so free now that yidhra wasn't controlling either of you. he was looking forward to the life he'd be spending with you, his little mermaid.

[lupinlongbottom]

Shortie

Fred Weasley x Short!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) is short. Plain and simple. While she admits this to herself, she hates, more than anything, than the nickname a certain redhead has tagged her with.

Prompt: Can I request a Fred Weasley x Reader with a short reader? And Fred thinks she’s adorable and flirts with her all the time? - Anon

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Yeah. I love Fred Weasley. I bet you do too, hm? Yeah you do!! Welcome to the club  we meet on every other Thursday

__

(Y/N) (L/N) loathed being called short. She was short, to their point, but it was always an awfully un-clever observation. No one ever thought to call her ‘bright’ or ‘pretty’, it was always ‘short’ or—

“Hey, shortie!” 

(Y/N) turned around, her books held tightly to her chest. It didn’t take a genius to know who’s voice it could’ve been, but she looked anyway, scowling.

“What do you want, Weasley?” She continued her previous steps, the flats of her feet slapping against the marble rhythmically.  

“Woah,” Fred said, holding his hands up, running to her side. “Such hostility, coming from such a small thing…”

(Y/N) pulled the books tighter into her chest, the covers reaching her chin. “What do you want?” She repeated, ignoring the redhead who was now matching her rather brisk pace.

“What? Can’t a guy try and flirt with the cutest little thing at school?” Fred said teasingly. (Y/N) could hardly tell if he was joking or not, a common theme from the Weasley brothers.

“Calling someone ‘shortie’ isn’t considered flirting,” (Y/N) huffed, feeling her fingers curl around the spines of her books, the tips tracing the musty covers. “Hardly would get you any points from anyone.”

“You see,” Fred clicked, pointing a finger. “I said ‘try’, didn’t say it was working,” he glanced up and down the girl quickly, grinning, “though, you’re talking to me, so something must’ve worked.”

“Do that with all the girls, do you? Flirt constantly to see if something sticks?” (Y/N) said, almost breaking a smile. A small tug at her lips peeked through the cracks, one that Fred noticed instantly, a warmth spreading quickly to his cheeks.

“No,” Fred said, shaking his head. “Just with you.”

“Right,” (Y/N) said, laughing genuinely. “Sure, Weasley,” she turned the corner, reaching her destination, her next class. “If you don’t mind, I actually have somewhere to be right now, so—”

“Funny,” Fred laughed, opening the classroom door. “Me too. Forgot we had Charms together, huh?”

She didn’t.

“Easy to forget,” (Y/N) said, pushing past Fred, hoping to reach her seat before Flitwick had their heads. “I focus entirely on the lecture, unlike somebody I know.”

“Hard to focus when the prettiest girl in school sits across the way from me,” Fred said, eyeing (Y/N) down.

“Oh sure,” (Y/N) scoffed, rolling her eyes, trying to ignore the creeping heat flowing across her face. “That’s your problem.”

“Though, it’s hard to see you behind your stack of books. I reckon you could use one of them to boost yourself up, it’d be easier to spot you—”

(Y/N) smacked his arm, hard, before fleeing to her assigned seat. She held back a scoff, not letting Fred get the better of her and her reactions. Pulling the various textbooks from her bag, (Y/N) scooted them slightly more to the left for no reason in particular.

__

Studying was a chore, something that (Y/N) loathed to do, but understood it’s importance in her academic life and future. As far as libraries go, the one at Hogwarts wasn’t the worst one she’d been in. Surely the temptation of practically anything and everything one would or could possibly know about the magical community and world around them was just at their fingertips, pages away from their young minds. However, instead of the fun material she could be reading, she was stuck scribbling lines from a textbook about various charms she’d never need to use.

“Honestly, making legs grow on teacups? How absurd…” (Y/N) mumbled to herself, scribbling the incantation down in a bolder ink, underlining it lightly.

“Reckon you could try it on yourself,” A voice said, pulling up into the chair next to her. “Maybe you’ll grow a bit, hm?” 

“Weasley,” (Y/N) clicked, setting her quill down harshly. “I’m trying to study, can’t you go bother some other poor soul? Throw a dungbomb around or whatever you and your brother get up to?”

“Nah, we ran out of dungbombs a bit back,” Fred said, picking at his fingernails, examining them closely. “We planted some frog spawn soap in the bathroom near here, but that’s going to take a while to kick in,” He glanced at the roll of parchment beneath (Y/N)’s hand, covering her writing. “What? Don’t want me to cheat off of you?”  

“Exactly,” (Y/N) hummed, placing another hand atop her words. “You haven’t done the assignment yet, so I’m not going to let you read mine.”

“Smart,” Fred said, nodding his head. “Really smart.”

“Thank you?” (Y/N) said, almost unsure. 

“Tell me, shortie,” Fred said, leaning in. “While you’re here hiding your work, do you need me to grab any books off the top shelf? I have long arms, you know…”

“Nope,” (Y/N) said warmly, her voice sickeningly sweet. “I’ve got all I need, thanks.”

“You sure?” He asked again, cracking his signature grin, his eyebrow pointed. “You sure you don’t need Charmingly Charming Charms by Gretchen Hopstock?” He pulled a red book from behind his back. “I know that Georgie and I needed to look at it when we were finishing our assignment…”

“You did the assignment? You’re bluffing!” (Y/N) said, bewildered and confused at the recent discovery. “There’s no way!”

“Yeah,” Fred laughed. “No way you’re reaching that book without my help,” he laughed again, the voice as smooth as honey, “it belongs on the sixth shelf, second case in. Seeing as you can barely reach the fifth shelf without your tiptoes—”

“Have you been watching me?”

“Hard not to,” Fred said, grinning. “It’s rather cute, watching you struggle just a bit. Of course, just say the word and I’ll leave the book here instead of putting it back.”

“I’m good,” (Y/N) said, shooting back an equally large grin, hoping the mockery would hit him in the face and let him leave. “But thanks!” 

Fred shrugged, turning quickly on his heels. He took five steps into the bookcase, eyes quickly scanning across the various covers, hoping to find the empty spot he had pulled the book from previously. With extra care, he slid the book back into its home, turning back to grin at (Y/N).

“I didn’t need it, anyway.”

“We’ll see, shortie,” Fred said, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Though, tell me,” Fred said, pointing to (Y/N)’s hands, still covering her parchment. “You’ve let that ink dry before smacking your hand on your writing, right?”

(Y/N) froze.

“Nah,” Fred laughed, waving his hand. “I’m sure it’s fine, you’re a bright witch, there’s no way that you would’ve done that,” he laughed again, turning back to his table of friends, neatly settled on the other side of the library. “No way.”

(Y/N) waited a few beats before prying her fingers off the paper, sure enough, the ink wasn’t done drying when she placed her skin atop of it. A puddling of what could’ve been words flowed along her skin, thankfully her parchment was still somewhat legible. She hesitated for a moment, debating on packing up her things and leaving entirely, or excusing herself for a moment to wash her hands. She chose the latter. 

“Stupid Fred, stupid ‘shortie’, stupid book…” (Y/N) mumbled to herself, entering the girls lavatory quickly. The sooner she cleaned her stained hands, the sooner she could finish her assignment and the sooner she could ignore Fred Weasley. (Y/N) turned on the tap, allowing the hot water to cover her hands, a good majority of the black ink flowing directly into the water. 

“Honestly,” (Y/N) said, grabbing the bar of soap, scrubbing vigorously. “What is wrong with me? He’s just some stupid boy…” She glanced up at her reflection, the pink in her cheeks practically glowing. “A stupid boy with a stupid smile…” Her face softened, recalling the way he grinned at her, a face he only seemed to direct at her and her alone, she had noticed. She never stared too long, honest, but she wasn’t dumb. Maybe he did truly like her. Maybe she liked him. Maybe.

The moment, however, ended quickly, as (Y/N) felt the soap beneath her move slightly. She looked down, only to find tadpoles swimming in sink and wriggling between her fingers.

Her scream rang throughout the castle.

__

The orange autumn day basked over the courtyard, the gaggles of cliques and friends finally were returning from Hogsmeade that fateful Saturday. (Y/N) had spent more than she’d like to admit at Honeydukes, her friends egging her to buy ‘just one more’ chocolate frog. Though, to their point, having a few extras around wouldn’t have been the worst idea.

(Y/N) settled herself down next to the fountain, allowing herself to get her recommended fifteen minutes of solitude she desperately needed. The burbling of the water and the idle chatter of students around her was calming, a white noise to her loud thoughts.

“Shortie!” Fred called from across the courtyard, leaving George behind. The other twin looked almost shocked, but only for a moment, his gaze falling upon the girl at the base of the fountain. He shrugged and waltzed away, knowing very well that Fred would catch up later.

“Fred,” (Y/N) said, not opening her eyes. She continued to take in deep breaths, focusing harder on the fountain behind her. “What is it?”

“Woah,” Fred said, almost taken aback. “Not ‘Weasley’? We’re on a first-name basis now?” 

“Could you try and be quiet?” (Y/N) said, taking in another deep breath. “I’m trying to enjoy a few moments of silence,” she opened an eye, glancing at Fred, “I know how hard silence is for you.”

“Please,” Fred scoffed, falling down next to (Y/N), hands folded in his lap. “I can be silent.”

“Prove it,” (Y/N) said, closing her eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Fine,” Fred said, staring straight ahead, trying to prove his point. The sounds of the fountain were calming, he noticed. Frankly, he wanted to make fun of the spot (Y/N) had chosen, but after thinking about it for a few moments, he understood.

Fred couldn’t help but glance over to the girl on his right, noting how even seated next to one another, their height difference rang true. He never sat next to her, not this close, she never gave him the chance. His eyes floated over to the bag at her side, a Honeydukes one, to be exact. Without a second thought, as silently as he could, he pulled the bag onto his lap. Thankfully, (Y/N) hadn’t heard. Fingering through the bag, he noted the various chocolate frogs, a box of fudge flies and a package of jelly slugs. All favorites of hers.

“Of course…” Fred laughed quietly, examining the bag a little deeper. A smaller bag reached his grasp, the packaging seeming familiar. He had seen these bags plenty of times before, in fact, George had been carrying one on their way back from Hogsmeade.

“What’re you doing?” (Y/N) said, careful not to shout, to draw more attention to herself. She noticed the bag in Fred’s lap after he had stayed quiet for a bit too long, a feat she clearly thought was a prank. She reached forward. “Gimme that!”

“Nope,” Fred said, standing up quickly, bag still in his grasp. “Why do you have a Zonko’s bag in here? I don’t think they have any products that’ll help you grow—”

“Will you quit it!?” (Y/N) finally shouted, rising to her feet. Fred froze, just for a moment. “Honestly! It’s all ‘shortie’ this and ‘shortie’ that! Could you cut it out for just—cut it out for a moment?!”

“(Y/N), I—”

“Yeah?” (Y/N) spat, ripping the bag from Fred’s grip, clutching it close to her side. “Gonna ask me to speak up because I’m so far away from you? You, all the way up there and me, so terribly close to the ground, might as well be dirt—”

“(Y/N) I’m sorry,” Fred said, almost sternly. Whatever grin he had on his face earlier surely dissipated. “I didn’t think that, that nickname bothered you so much, had you told me I would’ve—”

“Would’ve stopped? Yeah right. Biggest prankster in the whole school stopping something because someone asked nicely?”

“I would’ve stopped because you asked me,” Fred said, making his word choice clear. “Honest.”

“I don’t believe it,” (Y/N) said.

“Why do you think I call you shortie to begin with? Has it ever crossed your mind that I could’ve chosen anything else in the English—or perhaps French—language to call you?” Fred asked, not expecting a reply. “I mean, yeah, obviously you’re short—”

“You call people loads of other things, why not one of those?”

“What? Do you mean prat or git?” Fred laughed. “I could never think about calling you that, are you being serious?”

“What’s so hard to believe? You call everyone else things like that!” 

“Yeah? Well I don’t fancy everyone else, do I?”

“Fancy?” (Y/N) said, fighting back a laugh. “That’s how you treat someone you fancy? It’s so elementary, Fred. Would you like to pull on my hair to really drive your message home?”

“Oh shut it,” Fred said, his voice low, cheeks growing red. “I’m not good at things like this… affection, flirting…”

“You? Not good at flirting?” (Y/N) said, letting herself laugh. “Now that’s funny.”

“How so?”

“Please, half of the words that come out of your mouth make me want to crawl as far as I can in my jumper, hide from the embarrassment,” (Y/N) admitted, feeling a bit honest. “From what I’ve heard from the other girls in our year, you seem to have that effect on women.”

“Really?” Fred smiled. “I make you all flustered?”

“Y-you make other girls flustered, too!” (Y/N) said rather quickly. “Don’t go and twist my words.”

“Ah,” Fred clicked, rocking on his feet. “But you admit it, I make you flustered.”

“P-perhaps,” (Y/N) said, the back of her neck growing hot to the touch, the heat rising to her ears. “Perhaps a bit, yes.”

“Then, that’s all that matters, hm?” Fred said, smiling.

“What? Do you get some sort of pleasure of getting me flustered?” (Y/N) said, trying to keep a straight face.

“Of course I do,” Fred laughed. “Doesn’t every guy want to see the girl they like get all hot and bothered, especially by their own words and smirks?”

“I suppose,” (Y/N) said, nodding. “But, why me? Of call the girls you could possibly fancy, I’m the one you’ve gone after?”

“You challenge me, (Y/N),” Fred shrugged. “I like the chase, what can I say?” He let out another laugh, the sound ringing throughout the courtyard. “Besides, you’re rather pretty and have got the cutest laugh—little snorts and all—”

“I do not snort!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “I just—my laugh isn’t—I don’t… snort…”

“Awh,” Fred took a step closer, placing his hand hesitantly on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “S’all right, (Y/N), I think it’s cute. I think you’re cute.”

“Shut it…” (Y/N) said, looking away. After all that talk of getting flustered around Fred, why was her own body betraying her so poorly? Surely Fred could see the pink in her cheeks, there was no point in trying to hide it. “I think you’re cute too…” she mumbled, the words barely passing her lips.

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch that?” Fred said, grinning.

“I said I think you’re cute too,” (Y/N) repeated, her voice louder. “There, happy?”

“Elated,” Fred said, his smile growing softer. “Since you think I’m terribly attractive—”

“That’s not what I said—”

“And since I think you’re terribly adorable, what do you say to us going on a date? Say… next weekend, Hogsmeade? You, me, a couple of butterbeers against the world?”

“I’d like that,” (Y/N) said. “I’d like that quite a bit, actually.”

“Wicked,” Fred said, removing his hand from (Y/N)’s shoulder, knowing if he didn’t, he’d probably do something stupid, something she’d slap him silly for even trying. “Now that we’re on the same page, tell me (Y/N)…” he slanted his eyes, “what did you purchase from Zonko’s? Doesn’t seem like your type of store.”

“I…” (Y/N) chose her words carefully, feeling the bag at her side grow almost heavy. “I bought some hiccoughing sweets… to… give to you…”

“You… were going to try and prank me?” Fred said, his finger pointed at his chest. “A woman after my own heart! Oh, (Y/N), you don’t know how attractive that is.”

“I didn’t buy them to seduce you, Weasley,” (Y/N) laughed. “I bought them for… revenge purposes only.”

“Revenge? For the shortie thing? That seems a bit much,” Fred said, crossing his arms. “Don’t you think?”

“Oh no,” (Y/N) said, waving her hand. “The shortie thing doesn’t bother me nearly that bad,” Fred gave her a look, “what? Can’t a girl apologize? Regardless, it wasn’t because of that.”

“Alright, shortie,” Fred said, using the nickname again, dipping a toe in the water. (Y/N) smiled, just a bit. “Then what could you possibly need to get revenge for?”

“Frog spawn soap, women’s lavatory near the library.”

“Holy shit,” Fred said, suppressing a laugh. “That was you? Your scream was so hilarious!”

“I went to go wash the ink off my hands and—”

“So you did get ink on your hands,” Fred said, leaning closer. “I knew it.”

“Your soap,” (Y/N) said, ignoring Fred’s teasing. “Probably will give me nightmares about hand washing for the rest of my life… I figured a few prank-sweets would compensate it fairly.”

“Well played,” Fred said, nodding. “It’s a good plan, though I’d re-think it now that I know all about your devious little scheme, wouldn’t you agree? Try something that’ll really grind my gears, hm?”

“Grind your gears?”

“Yeah, the key to a good revenge, or revenge prank is the one that while the other isn’t expecting, also annoys—”

Without a second thought, (Y/N) leaned upwards, reaching as far as her toes could get her. She grabbed Fred’s face, placing a soft peck to the space near his lips, dangerously close, but not quite touching. She fell back onto the flats of her feet, grinning widely at the now-speechless Weasley in front of her.

“One that the other isn’t expecting? I’ll have to remember that,” (Y/N) said, taking a few steps away from Fred, ready to leave the courtyard. “What? Kneazle have your tongue?”

“I just…” Fred sputtered, trying to find the words. Of all the things he had expected from (Y/N), teasing him to that caliber was not at the top of his list. “I just, didn’t expect you to reach that high,” he forced a laugh, trying to cover up his embarrassment, “shortie.”

(Y/N) smiled softly at the boy, turning her heels to leave. The sound of Fred’s soft laughter met her ears, him surely doing a little jig, something she knew she would see if she turned around, but (Y/N) let him have his moment. Turns out, she didn’t hate that nickname after all. More specifically, she didn’t hate the boy it came from, not one bit.

__

General Tag List: @maralisa124 / @leighxlover / @hey-its-me-rai / @missihart23 / @biatheintrovert / @luna-xxxxx / @chocolaterumble / @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy / @steve-thotgers / @greeneyedthief / @kitkatkl / @thelightsideoflife / @thataudreydork / @badgirlsdeaddreams

Fred Weasley Tag List: @carolinesbookworld / @flyawayjulianna

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[fandom-blackhole]

Darling, it's not me who is trying to kill you! It's just that the buckets are too skkskskhsslsk 🥵

Paz and you playing hide and seek in the forest?

He'd go 100% soldier on a mission mode and find you in no time,

''Looks like I found my precious target'' ,

You being all smol and scaweed 🥺😫,

Then he goes apeshit, wrestling you so hard against the tree that it'd leave marks on your back,

If you were camping in the mountains, he'd pack the tiniest tent and sleeping bag possible to stay as close as it'd be possible,

Paz thinks when you are with him there is no personal space,

Omg, you on top of him, being pounded mercilessly as he'd trap you so hard with his hands around your back,

He'd also press his palm against THE BULGE and nut instantly after he felt your pussy gripping his dick,

Okay, let's stop because, dear god we 'bout to bust, aren't we?

One day you decided to surprise Paz at his work,

You sneaked to the kitchen by the back entrance and hugged him from behind,

He'd slowly turn to face you big smile plastered on his face,

Until he saw what you were wearing,

You put on this baby blue flowy dress,

''Sweetheart, you are looking like a snacc''

My lovely little cupcake, might as well eat you here and now''

He just lifted you with one hand like you weighted nothing and sat you on a counter,

He quickly got rid of your panties (he totally stole them from you because he loves your taste and smell) and was eating you out like a starved man,

Even tho he was cooking all the time, he'd always be hungry for you,

You trying to cover your mouth with your hands so his employees and dinners wouldn't hear you,

But he was fast ro grab your hands and just chuckle saying

''Sweetness, I am the ownere here, right? So let me hear these pretty noises of yours, let people know how good I make you feel''

DID I SAY WE NEED TO CHILL OUT? GUESS I CAN'T STOP MYSELF SORRY

Din would text you through the day and it's a mix between:

''Good morning, my sweet girl, Did you sleep well?'', ''Baby, remember to eat your breakfast'', ''Have you drink enough water today?'',

''Daddy, can't wait to get back home to you'', ''Babygirl, my dick is painfully hard right know, been thinkin' too much about your pretty, little pussy'',

Din is a SHY 😊 and sweet mean, he loves being silly with his class, but the daddy thing makes him wild,

Din you better wash out your mouth with a soap lol,

When you visited him and Grogu to catch up with them, he couldn't keep his cool,

Seeing you playing with Grogu and being so motherly towards the kid sparked something in Din,

When Grogu settled for his afternoon nap, Din would grab you and pin you against the wall, one hand resting on your chest the other tucking hair behind your ear, growling in this rich chocolate timber:

''Sweet girl, you have no idea what you do to daddy'',

But when you innocently sit in his lap in public, he gets all shy and blushy, hesitantly resting his hands on your thighs,

Umm dirty secret? He once stole your white bra and used it to relieve himself when you were away 🤭,

Don't wear low-cut clothing around him or he'd end up crashing into something or landing on his ass,

9/10 times you'd catch him trying to sneak a glance at your tiddies and being all embarrassed when caught,

Giving him a tiddy job but being also able to succ his tip too because he is so well-endowed, Din.exe has stopped working, nutted to death,

If there were more buckedheads I don't know if we could keep on writing these,

Boba lives off his authority and power,

You wanting to keep your relationship professional impressed him a lot,

You weren't another young, stupid girl chasing after his money,

There was going to be another charity event, he send you a beautiful Tiffany choker to pair up with your outfit,

He almost came in his suit pants, when he noticed you giving a speech at the event, wearing his present,

After you were done speaking, he came up to you and the group of other attendees you were talking with,

'' Miss, your speech was really touching and thoughtful '' you instantly feelt so proud, being praised for your hard work in front of all of these people, cheerfully smiling at him,

Before you had time to respond, he got closer to you, smirk crawling up on his face and whispered:

'' Also, this necklace suits you so nicely, princess''

You just got flustered and said to him:

'' Thank you, sir'' while bitting your lower lip,

Well next thing you knew, you were being kidnapped to the parking lot, Boba literally throwing you onto backsit of his car,

Thank God you decided to wear garters and stocking that night

I have nothing more left to say. - 🐣

This AU is just getting better and better, you are such a genius...

Hid and seek with Paz 3729201/10, best fucking idea

Paz just goes absolutely ape shit watching his cock buldge out your belly

Paz stealing your panties whenever he can 😭😭😭

Paz does not understand personal space when it comes to you

He HAS to be touching you in some way when you are around

Holding your hand, hand around you waist, arm around your shoulder, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans

When he first sat next to you in your booth at his restaurant and your thighs touched, his heart soared when you didn't pull away from him

Paz and yours first date, was really like your 12th, but Paz took you to a strawberry farm

Held the baskets as you picked the fruit, constantly telling you that you picked the best berries

After he bought a bottle of strawberry wine, which the two of you shared over a small dinner that he made

Then the next thing you knew you both were on your couch, you on his lap, having a very heated make out session

Which lead to Paz picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, where the two of you had a very passionate and intense wrestling session

Now, Din, my sweet himbo

He gets soooo flustered with PDA

You once kissed his cheek in front of some people, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting

Din constantly checking on you throughout the day 🥺🥺🥺

He always calls on his lunch break, just to talk with you and see how your day is going and talk about his class

One day when you came to check on Grogu at school, the rest of the kids convinced you to read to them during playtime

Din had to sit behind his desk for a while because just seeing you like that made him so hard

That night he wrestled with you until he passed out

Din once asked if he could keep his cock inside of you all night long

You woke up aching and leaking from how many times the two of had cum during the night

Din had moaned when he woke up and just spulled you under him for an early morning wrestling match

Now for Boba....

Boba always makes sure that you have some kind of present waiting for you in the mornings

Flowers, clothes, jewelry, a five star breakfast, himself

Boba totally gets you the prettiest tiara for his princess

Everything you own soon becomes namebrand, because only the best for his little

The first time Boba seen you wearing one of his gifts he had dragged you into the closest empty room, and left you marked and jelly legged

Boba totally gets you a custom gun for you to carry around for safety

Its inscribed with little one

Boba likes to always have your neck covered in hickies so that people know who you belong too

Boba took you to an art show once and every painting you showed interest in he bought for you

Don't mention liking any famous painters because he will get his hands on an original piece for you

Sorry its not much but these boys are driving me up the wall....

(SEND ME THOTS!!!!)

[conaionaru]

Woman’s game (Ivar the Boneless/Hvitserk)

The other shoe drops

Synopsis: Ivar leaves and Skuld is in mortal danger

Warnings: violence, slow descent into insanity, angst

The next morning, Skuld woke up early to buy wood ash soap while Ivar got ready for his departure. "Skuld!"

Queen Aslaug stood behind her and stared her down like a predator stalking its prey. "Yes, Your Grace?"

"Let's take a walk." She took the earl's daughter by the hand and led her away from the common folk to the Great Hall's steps. "Tell me what you think you are doing?"

"I am buying wood ash soap. I want to bleach my hair. I am sure it would drive Mother mad when she returns. And I think I would make a pretty blonde." Skuld teased charmingly, trying to ease the tension around them.

Aslaug scoffed and clenched Skuld's hand tighter. To the eyes of the other's, they might have seemed like two bonding women instead of rivals. "That is not what I mean, and you know it. I can see when a person is smarter than they pretend to be. You, for instance, are far more intelligent than you let on."

"Is this about Ivar, My Queen?" She fluttered her eyelashes innocently, a mischievous spark hidden in her eyes.

"Of course, it is." They continued their walk inside, Aslaug sitting down on her throne to seem more powerful. It was just like Ylva scolding her children while sharpening her weapons, a power move. "What are your intentions?"

"I assure you, I mean no harm to Ivar."

"Then why are the thralls walking around town talking of what you two do in bed? Margrethe is buying moon tea for you, and everyone signs your praise. They think him a monster."

"They gossip as women tend to do when bored. I ordered Margrethe to do a task for me; what she did after is not my fault. I am as angry as you are. No one should know what happens in anyone's bed. That is between the lovers themselves."

Aslaug scoffed and leaned closer to seize Skuld up. "So you and Ivar are really lovers... It is not just a rumor?"

Skuld strode up the steps, smiling at Aslaug reassuringly. "I swear I mean no harm to Ivar. He intrigued me with his sharp mind and tongue. I enjoy his company, any form he is willing to offer me. Everything I did was out of curiosity and affection. I can't claim to love him yet, but I care for him and his happiness - his wellbeing."

Kneeling at Aslaug's side, she took her hand in hers and looked up with vulnerable eyes. Whispering the secret, she wanted none to hear. "It is like he bewitched me. I can't sleep without him near, and every time I hear him laugh or see him smile... It's as if I finally found meaning for what I am meant to be."

Aslaug nodded and smiled at her. "That is good; Ivar deserves a nice woman. After what lies Margrethe spread before..."

"If I could do anything to make those rumors stop..."

"Leave that to me. Go along now. You have hair to bleach." She sent her off with a smile. Skuld walked away and sighed in satisfaction. The whole Aslaug is a threat thing was solved easily. Margrethe did as she was bid, thinking she was saving her own skin, only to help Skuld.

When Ivar arrived at the docks to depart, he looked at her strangely. "What happened to your hair?"

"Don't you like my hair, Ivar? Don't you think I am pretty anymore?" She teased; the blush on his cheeks was proof enough of the answer. He liked it but was too prideful to admit it, especially in front of his brothers and father. "I wish you good fortune on your journey. May you come back victorious and well."

"So you will not forget about me while I am away?" The truth was, she would probably sleep with somebody in secret, but he doesn't need to know that. She was a woman with needs, and gods know when he will return.

"Oh Ivar, how could I ever forget a man like you? You gave me many things to remember you by. And when they fade... I will pray for your return day and night." He smirked at the answer and turned to leave, the new crutches making him taller. It was strange to look into his eyes without having to crouch or kneel.

He fell soon after but crawled on, not showing a hint of pain or humiliation. Cripple or not, the man was truly remarkable. When he departed, Skuld pretended to watch him leave like a lovesick girl.

Flocking people at her side wasn't so hard. She complimented the merchants at the stand and bought gifts for people. Smiling at children and helping older people carry things was another approach she used. Within a week, she was loved by the people. Her room was always full of young girls that complimented her and played dress-up with her.

They plaided flowers in their hair and gossiped of the boys they liked. Whenever they asked her of Ivar, she pretended to tear up or just gave them minimal information. How good of a lover he is, how he may seem evil or rude but is very affectionate when alone with her. Some things were true; others were complete lies. After all, she couldn't say that he choked her in bed and she liked it.

They walked through the town, hands full of expensive fabrics to have dresses made from. Giggling with every step, Skuld looked back at the girls behind her and smiled. "Imagine all the fabrics and gold from the new land Bjorn wants to explore. All those pretty things and alcohol they might bring back."

"And all the pretty male thralls!" They laughed out in glee. Skuld looked back in front of her so she won't trip but was met with a shieldmaiden with a strange shield.

"Come with me." The tall brunette ordered, glaring at her with a harsh tone.

"And why would I do that? I don't even know you. Who asks for me?"

"The Queen does."

Skuld looked at the shield and shook her head. "That is not the seal of Ragnar Lothbrok."

"It's Lagertha's!" One of the girls that followed her called out in realization. Before Skuld could process the information, the shieldmaiden snatched her by the arm and dragged her away.

As Skuld was thrown over the woman's shoulder and carried off, she could see people fighting. Lagertha infiltrated the city to take over as Queen. Maybe Gunne was right, and she really needed the dagger after all.

So she pulled in out from her cleavage and slit the shieldmaiden's throat. The dead woman fell to the ground, and Skuld climbed off her to run to safety. Someone grabbed her from behind and tried to wrench the weapon from her hands.

The girl slammed her head against the attacker's face a few times till the grip loosened. She slipped free and stabbed the warrior in the chest. With a grunt, she pulled the dagger out. Someone hit her over the head with a shield, and she hit the floor, groaning. It wasn't enough to knock her out, but enough to make her stop fighting.

They dragged her to an empty house and threw her in like a dirty rag. "Stay here and wait!" Skuld sprung from the ground and glared at them, seething. She ran for the door but was pushed back easily.

"You will pay in blood for this! You and your stupid Queen!" They slammed the door in her face and left her in the darkness.

Skuld marched up and down the hut, cursing under her breath. "They left me here, and now look what happened. I will gouge out her eyes and make her stupid lover watch."

She repeated the last sentence, like a mantra and prayed to the gods for guidance and strength. Walking holes into the floor proved futile, so she sat down with her back against the wall and glaring at the door. "They will probably try to punish me for killing those shieldmaidens. Let them try."

The hut was small, one-room max with no furniture or window, obviously meant as a prison cell. She could feel hay under her ass and the cold bite of winter on her cheeks. Her eyes never left the door, the deafening silence around her suffocating. Twisting the ring on her finger, Skuld stared the door down with determination.

"All this time buttering up Aslaug and Ivar, and in the end, it was Ragnar Lothbrok's ex-wife that got to me. Hjordis would laugh at my foolishness." She chuckled and leaned her head against the cold hardwood. Closing her eyes, she took deep breaths to calm her anger. Lashing out now would do Skuld no good; she needs to save her energy so she can fight back when they open that door.

Her eyes snap open, and she smirks in glee. Pulling herself up on all four and search the ground for something. "Weapooon, where are youu?" Other than a pair of chains in the opposite corner, Skuld found nothing. Even those were useless; strangling someone with them would require her, pulling them closer to the bolts. Too much work and doing that would mean a struggle.

The blonde sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. She let her head fall into her hands and tapped her foot against the floor. The flow of time was hard to keep up with in here. She could be in here for an hour or maybe only half. There was no way to tell. So she tried counting instead.

"One, two, three, four, five..."

Drawing was fun when she was small and the coal from England new, when all she could do was doodle runes and flowers, now when she was thirteen, it wasn't so exciting. But the boys were training in the yard, and she didn't want to be a shieldmaiden.

She liked herself more like this; in her family, everyone was a fighter covered in dirt with bad manners. Despite being an Earl, even her mother didn't spend time on her looks until it was really necessary. So Skuld did her best to look as good as possible.

Mother had no problem buying her anything she wanted, what she wanted that she got. A smile here, a whine there, hug, fake tears, and she had the prettiest dresses within a week. Egil always complained that she was a spoiled little brat, but Skuld was more of a princess. Earl's daughter or not, she was made for royalty and ruling.

All the women told her that she was beautiful and graceful. She deserved to be pampered and complimented. Who else out there was as perfect as her? Beauty was her dagger to wield, less messy than the real thing. A courteous smile and sweet words, and everyone ate out of her hand.

The other girls in Yugar flocked around her like meek little sheep, trying to gain her attention and friendship. You say they look pretty or that you like them, and like naive children, they believe every word. Mother always said it was dangerous to live in a perfect world; it was a nasty place filled with greedy and stupid people. It's your decision on which side you want to be on.

Her brothers were the stupid ones, running after girls, fighting, burping, and farting to make themselves laugh. Their mother, on the other hand, was smart, which meant she was greedy. After all, she was an Earl and ruled the people easily. Skuld was greedy, too; she wanted to hold power as well. So ambition would be her other dagger, this one sharper and more fatal.

"Skuld! Come watch Egil make a fool of himself!" With glee, the girl shot from her spot on her mother's throne and run outside to watch Egil fail at flirting.

"Five hundred and thirty-eighth, five hundred and thirty-nine..."

She sighed and banged her head against the wall once. Daggers... That's what she needed, real daggers to carve out the shieldmaiden's hearts. Beauty and ambition would do her naught now. What would she do? Try to seduce the forty-year-old mother or her loyal lover? Maybe some of her shieldmaidens. Undressing always made people speechless, mostly because they didn't expect it. But women still fared better. It was the man that lost all common sense when their cocks got hard.

Women just crossed their legs, scowled, and talked. That's when sweet-talking came in handy, and by morning they were laying naked beside her. But that wouldn't work on the usurpers. Real weapons would serve better.

Again she hit her head against the wall and watched the ceiling. If there was some light in here, she could at least watch the shadows there. But the room was one huge shadow on itself. All she could see was darkness and her own bright dress and hair.

Her hand throbbed as she picked at the fresh scabs of her bloody knuckles. Skuld had hit the door in her rage as if she could beat it down. It didn't work; all it did was make her angrier and tired. Oh, so tired. She could sleep and hope to wake up in her own bed at home, instead of a small dark cell. The more time passed, the smaller the room seemed to her. With one last bang against the wall, she slumped down to sleep, bored of the world around her.

In her dreams, she was back at home, five or four, sitting in her father's lap as he sat on his high seat, ordering people around. Mother always said he was soft, which made him stupid and unjust. He got swayed easily, but on the battlefield, he was invincible. Well, he used to be. Until he got beheaded in Frankia,  he got no burial, the boat they burned was empty, maybe he was in Valhalla, perhaps not.

She could care less, barely remembering his face or voice. Sometimes, in her dreams or memories, Skuld sad his fair hair and a small beard. Othertimes he had no face, just a blank head. She never looked above his neck. Why should she? The sigh of the kneeling people in front of him was prettier. She imagined herself in his place, what she would have done. But never came up with an answer. What was the point anyway?

The dead were dead, and she was alive for now. The past was an anchor tying you to the realm of reality so that you wouldn't get lost in the clouds. But right now, she wanted to fly the highest she had ever been. Far away from all this bullshit. The furthest distance away from this hut that probably had spiders and rats hidden inside. Away from the shrinking walls and haunting darkness. She was Skuld Ylvasdottir. The only daughter of Ylva the Brave, Earl of Yugar, the Lioness.

Skuld was a lion as well, a cub, but a lion nonetheless. She wouldn't beg them to let her out. Instead, she would scream her throat hoarse and spit blood on them if needed. Lions aren't afraid of anything, not the dark or death itself. "When I get out, they will no longer call me a naive child or lion cub. I am a woman, vengeful, and ambitious.

[milknette]

day 12 - childhood friends

it's better to burn, than to fade away.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

ADRIEN meets Marinette when he's six years old and running away for the first time.

It happens after his mom tells him that he can't have macarons for dinner. Can you believe it? To separate a child and his one true love— a single bite of passionfruity goodness… it is, understandably, too much for his little mind to handle.

So, he runs away—

Because clearly, the only logical solution to not having dessert for dinner is to run away somewhere that would allow him to do so.

(Maybe whoever made the macarons. He's sure that they probably have sweets for every meal!)

And it seems like a good idea at first.

But as he runs through the dimly-lit streets of Paris, with nothing but his superhero-themed backpack and the black cat stuffed toy he'd been given for Christmas, Adrien slowly begins to realize that maybe he'd acted too rashly.

He's cold, he's wet, and his macarons are nowhere to be found.

So of course, he does what any six-year-old would do in his situation:

He falls to the ground and starts crying.

It's in that state when she first finds him.

"Whatcha cryin' about?"

Adrien looks up and freezes. Snot is dripping out of his nose, eyes red, and cheeks puffy— and for the first time in his life, he feels self-consciousness.

Because standing in front of him is very likely the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

Quickly wiping his face with his sleeve (though all it really does is intensify the redness), Adrien shakes his head. "I'm not crying."

"Yeah you were," she says, pointing at his face. "Look, your face is wet."

"... it's because it's raining."

Pretty Girl huffs. "It's not raining," she accuses him. "You're lying!"

"I'm not lying!" He argues, slowly standing back up. "I'm not crying!"

"You just were," she shoots back. "Why are you sad, sad boy? Where are your parents?"

He frowns, shaking his head. "Nowhere. I don't care." Adrien shakes his head. "They're bad parents."

"What do you mean bad?" She asks. "Did they hurt you?"

"Yeah! They didn't let me have macarons for dinner."

"... and?"

"And…?" Adrien asks, confused. "That's it. They're so mean, not letting me eat what I want. So I ran away!"

A sudden smack on the head.

"Ouch?!"

"You're being spoiled," Pretty Girl finally says, frowning. "Your parents are just doing what's best for you. Stop getting mad at them for that."

"But I want macarons!"

"And you can't always get what you want!" She argues, shaking her head. "You should be happy with what you have. Papa always tells me how lucky I am to be where I am. Some kids don't even get to be that lucky ever."

"But…"

"No buts," she says, with finality. "Listen to your parents!" Then, after a moment, Pretty Girl fishes out something from her pocket.

It's one piece of a red polka-dotted earring.

"Here."

Adrien stares at her, suspicious. "What is this?"

"It's to make you happy again," she tells him. "It's an earring."

"... so it's a gift?"

Pretty Girl wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, I guess. Just stop crying already."

He smiles.

A gift.

From a pretty girl!

"Thank you," he beams, remembering his mother's lessons on how to be a good boy. "This means we're friends, right?"

"... sure," she finally mutters, after a brief pause. Then, she takes out her hand. "I'm Marinette."

"Adrien," he replies, almost enthusiastically holding her hand in his. "Nice to meet you!"

He wants to ask more, and talk to her longer, before the sound of an ambulance rings across the otherwise empty streets.

Then, an army of police cars quick to follow.

"What happened?" He wonders, before noticing Marinette try to sneak away. "Hey! Where are you going?" Adrien asks, chasing after her as she makes a run for it.

"My parents don't know I'm out!" She responds, shouting at him. "I'll be in trouble if they see I'm not in bed!"

"But will I see you again?"

Marinette laughs, and Adrien's almost confident he's never heard such a beautiful sound in his life.

"Friends don't just leave each other like that!" She only says, before disappearing into the night.

He finds himself alone, having stopped in front of a bus station.

It's a concerned conductor that helps bring Adrien home, to the arms of his evidently just-been-crying parents (he watches with childlike wonder as his father wipes away his teary expression, Marinette's words echoing in his ear) and a mound of freshly-heated macarons— but he barely takes notice.

Instead, Adrien looks in his hand.

The polka-dotted earring glitters with the light.

He presses it to his heart, then wishes with all his soul that he'll see her again.

Marinette.

How cute.

.

.

The next time Adrien meets Marinette is almost two years later.

He's running away again.

Chloé had invited him to a playdate in her bedroom, where she insisted they play house— with her being the wife, and him the "super handsome and all mine husband".

But Adrien didn't want to play that. He wanted to play superheroes, so he grabbed the superhero mask he made in school and put it on— ignoring her protests.

She cried and he called her a spoiled brat, before running away to avoid getting scolded. He runs to the emergency exit, sitting on the stairs as he leans his head upon his arms, almost on the verge of tears.

"You're a crybaby."

Adrien looks up, noticing with surprise as Marinette stands on the stair below him, arms crossed together as she peers over at his small frame.

"You!"

"Yeah, me," she replies. "Who else would it be?"

"You…"

"I…"

"Where have you been!?" Adrien finally rages, eyebrows knitted together in a mix of confusion and anger. "I've been waiting for you for forever!"

"I'm sorry…," Marinette begins, scratching her head. "Did I say I was gonna meet you? I'm kinda forgetful…"

"And dumb!" Adrien shouts, pointing accusingly at her. "You're a meanie face poop head for leaving me!"

"Hey," she starts quietly, before kicking his leg.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

Marinette sticks her tongue out. "You can't just call people bad names like that!" She says, glaring disappointedly at him. "Go wash your mouth with soap."

"But I can't do that! It's gross!"

"Mama tells me that's the punishment for bad kids who say bad things," she warns him. "So don't say things like that again."

"..."

"Adrien."

"Fine!" He finally bites out, evidently irritated.

"And you have to say sorry."

"What?"

Marinette glares at him. "You have to say sorry to people you've said those things to. Because it hurts them."

"... it hurts?"

"Yeah," she explains, putting a hand to her heart. "Right here. And even more when it's someone we care about."

"Really?"

Marinette nods.

Adrien frowns, thinking to himself, before abruptly standing up. "I'm sorry, Marinette," he finally says. "I don't want to hurt you."

She beams at him. "And I'm okay now!" She says, raising her hands upward. "See, it's that easy!"

Adrien nods along, before remembering another person he has to say sorry to.

He stares at her. "I have to do something," he starts. "Can you wait for me?"

Marinette sighs, apologetic. "Sorry, I can't," she replies. "Mama and Papa are waiting for me downstairs. I just went here because you were crying so loud."

"Hey—!"

"But do what you have to do," she grins. "I'll see you again."

"Promise?" Adrien asks, sticking out his pinky finger.

She smiles, linking her pinky with his. "It's a pinky promise."

When Adrien returns to Chloé's apartment, the first thing he says is sorry.

They play house together, but roleplay as siblings. Adrien tells her that he can't play her husband; not when he wants someone else to play with his wife.

Marinette Agreste.

Doesn't sound too bad.

.

.

Marinette keeps her promise.

Their meetings are short and infrequent, but he always treasures every moment.

The time he accidentally ruins his father's painting, she makes him apologize. The time Chloé bullies Sabrina, she tells him to make her stop. The time he gets the last macaron at a shop, she convinces him to share it with the crying baby outside.

Adrien can feel himself becoming a better person the more they meet. With every wrong he's done, she's there like a guardian angel to show him the right way.

She makes him kinder, stronger, and more honest.

It's at the tender age of eleven years old when Adrien Agreste decides that he loves her.

.

.

The next year, Marinette only visits him once.

At the day of her funeral.

He sits alone, standing in front of her grave.

Emilie Agreste, Rest In Peace.

She doesn't say a word, only putting a hand on his shoulder.

He's grateful for it.

"At least you'll always be here for me," Adrien says.

She laughs softly, but doesn't reply.

.

.

She shows up less and less, the older he gets.

After his mother passed away, his father had locked him in the house with almost no contact with the outside world.

Adrien wonders if that's why Marinette hasn't been showing up.

He knows in his heart, however, that it isn't true.

.

.

"How did you get in here?"

"Is that a question you really want to know the answer to?"

"Maybe not."

Marinette leans her head on his shoulder, nuzzling closer to him.

He doesn't move.

.

.

It is at fifteen years old when Adrien's father gets him a therapist.

"Do you see her now?" He asks.

"No."

The therapist nods, writing as Adrien watches Marinette peek over his shoulder.

"He's writing that you're crazy."

"I'm not crazy!"

The doctor looks up at him, and it's almost pitiful.

"Of course not."

.

.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

The room is empty, but he knows she's watching. Waiting.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Adrien heaves, rubbing at his eyelids. He hasn't slept in days— weeks, even.

It's gotten to the point that even his father wants him to come outside, if even for a moment.

"I just want to be normal."

"No, you're too special for that."

.

.

"Why are you crying?"

"Because I have to let you go."

"Why?"

"You aren't good for me."

"You told me I made you a good person."

"You did."

"What changed?"

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"..."

"I loved you."

"I'm not real."

"That doesn't mean my feelings weren't."

"The therapist was right. You are crazy."

"..."

"You're still a crybaby."

"I know. But I can handle these things on my own now."

"I hope you'll miss me."

"You were my first friend."

"I love you."

"..."

"Goodbye."

.

.

Adrien sees the sun for the first time in months.

He feels lighter.

Nothing is holding him back anymore.

[tuanyiems]

Beautiful

Bambam x POC Reader Words: 700 [Masterlist in blog] a/n – for my poc babes <3 ily

You have spots on your skin, white marbling on brown. You used to be smooth like the caramel droplets your grandmother still bakes for you. But years of papaya soaps and whitening creams have burned the color off of you.

Still, it is never enough.

People chip away at you the same way you’ve chipped at your own skin. What’s worse, is that it comes from your own people.

The same grandmother who insists on traveling two hours to your apartment to fill your fridge with your favorite dishes, clicks her tongue at you when you come back home in a beautiful white sundress.

White brings out the blackness of your skin, baby. Stop wearing that, honey. And you should wear a cover up next time. Any darker and that boy’s gonna leave you.

Your own mom is no better. She kisses your cheeks twice every time she sees you. And just as often, she’ll squeeze your flesh between her fingers in the hopes you might shed it off like a snake.

How’s my beautiful baby doing? Oh, if only you didn’t inherit your Daddy’s skin color, you’d be the prettiest of them all.

Of course, you smile through it. Unfortunately for your mother, their words have only worked to thicken your skin. No shedding for you.

But you can’t help the frown that faces you on the other side of the mirror. Even alone, you are never safe.

Because as bad as their words make you feel, nothing is as awful as the words you feed yourself. In front of your vanity, you are the ugliest. Yet, it is your favorite part of the day each morning.

Before the sun has risen, when Bambam sleeps soundly under the covers and only the chirping of birds greets you, you paint your face two shades lighter. Even the world pretends you don’t exist. You can’t find the foundation in your shade. Besides, the retail worker who assisted you said it was the trend now.

Just make sure to cover your neck too. Don’t want people to think you didn’t wash your neck.

You laughed along with her.

And then you scrubbed your skin raw afterwards.

Sitting in front of your vanity at night is different though. You wipe cotton pads against your cheek and watch the cream color melt off you. As if you didn’t hate yourself enough, you always work on one side first. Brown against cream. You compare the honey in your eyes. They seem brighter on one side.

You wipe away the rest of your makeup. Your gaze returns to a dull brown on both sides.

You don’t admit it but it breaks you each time you see it.

“Why are you just staring at yourself?” Bambam looks at you weird when he enters the bedroom. You look at him pointedly and watch him break into a smile that tells you he’s only joking.

He snuggles onto your fluffy vanity stool that is clearly made for one and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He looks at you through the mirror.

“Can’t get enough of yourself?” he asks teasingly. When you hesitate, he presses you tighter against his chest. “I can’t get enough either.”

“Hmm,” you hum in response. You know he means it. But tonight, you feel weak. So you close your eyes and lean into his chest.

It’s a quiet moment. He kisses your temple softly and you savor the warmth.

“I wonder how you do it sometimes,” you finally whisper. You don’t explain yourself but he knows what you mean. As a Thai idol in the Korean industry, you know Bambam has gotten his share of microaggressions.

“I love you so much,” he answers easily. “You have the most beautiful complexion. So how can I hate my own when I love yours so much?”

He presses another kiss to your skin, fingers wrapping around your own. You smile, feeling him rub against the diamond on your ring.

“And when we have a daughter,” he whispers into your ear, “she will be a mix of both our colors and she will be so beautiful.”

He nudges your chin to look at him and when you do, you see your reflection in his eyes.

And she is beautiful.

[lloydgarmadonsbabygirl]

hi guys!! please make sure to check out my wattpad, i post more on there. i appreciate the support over the last few weeks! my wattpad is lloydgarmadonsbbg. 

when the sun sets - two

I opened my eyes, my vision blurred by shadows and my body feeling weak. I was fighting something - but I didn't know what. I was trapped in my own body. I fought for what felt like hours, but continued to be pushed down. Through my blurry vision, I saw five figures appear - recognizing them as Zane, Cole, Kai, Jay, and... myself?!

I came to a realization - I was Lloyd, and I was fighting Morro. I fought even harder.. I had to escape. I felt a hand around my throat, squeezing hard enough that I couldn't breathe. I screamed at the top of my lungs, yet nothing came out.

I drew in a sharp breath as I felt a calloused hand rubbing my back, waking me up from the realest dream I had ever had.

"Are you okay?!" Lloyd whispered, his voice cracking slightly. His sleepy green eyes had a concerned look in them. He sat up, holding my hands in his larger ones. He was wearing a light green hoodie, the one he had been wearing when we got him back from Morro.

"I-I don't know. I had a dream.. I was you. Morro was pushing you down and had taken over you. And then we came to save you, bu-but he was trying to strangle you," I sniffled, tears slowly falling down my flushed cheeks.

Lloyd gently brushed my tears away with his thumbs, gently lifting my chin to look into my teary eyes.

"That's what happened.. How'd you know? That's why I locked myself away. I didn't want anybody to know. I knew it would just make everybody mad that it even happened," he admitted, while taking his hoodie off, handing it to me, his muscular torso exposed, the various scars on his chest catching my eye.

I pulled the hoodie over my head, shivering in the cool night air.

"It was so scary.. I'm sorry I didn't come in earlier. I'm just so happy you're okay..." I said, sleepily.

"It's all okay now. Do you think you're ready to try to sleep? W-We can talk about it all tomorrow. I'm sorry you had to see it all..."

"It isn't your fault... I-I just got so scared at the thought of you being gone," I whispered.

I laid down, warm in the comfy hoodie. I snuggled up closer to Lloyd, who smelled like fresh air and clean laundry, and like a warm sunshine filled day. He put his arm around me, just so I could hold his hand. I fell into a deep sleep, the kind of sleep where you dream short little dreams.

I opened my eyes to the late morning sun coming through the open window, a cool breeze washing over me. Lloyd's hand still held mine, his body right behind mine, almost as if I were the little spoon. Seeing that I was awake, he carefully let go of my hand and sat up, his cheeks flushed.

"G-good morning.. Did you sleep okay, did you have any more nightmares..?" The green eyed boy asked, pushing his overgrown hair out of his face.

"I'm okay, I slept really well, actually.. It just scared me, the thought of being without you," I smiled, as I sat up, pulling his oversized hoodie down to cover my stomach.

"I understand.. I'm just glad that you're okay. Do you want to go get breakfast?"

"Sure, let's go. I'm starving!! But, let me brush my hair first," I giggled, my waist length hair in tangles.

"I think you look great!" He joked, smiling. His smile seemed real, and seeing him happier made me feel warm and excited for him. As I ran a comb through my hair, I thought about what I'd tell the other ninja - I certainly couldn't tell them about my dream, but I had to tell them something. In just two days, Lloyd had became so much happier, and for the first time in a long time, I felt as though my best friend was here with me.

We left Lloyd's room, and went straight to the kitchen to get some tea. There was always a pot brewed, it was practically all that Wu drank. I made eggs, as Lloyd went out to the living room, where almost everybody else sat. I brought our eggs out on two plates, with vegetables on the side.

I sat down next to Lloyd, handing him his plate. I ate quickly. I guess the nightmare had left me drained and starving. Our legs ended up touching, and to my surprise, he didn't pull away. We all sat there and joked for a bit - nothing of meaning, really. Nobody wanted to upset Lloyd, so we just talked about lighthearted stuff. The room was filled with laughter and smiles. We talked for about an hour until the other ninja started going out to the dojo to train.

I grabbed the plates that I had stacked on the floor, and walked over to the kitchen to wash them. As I washed them, my hands covered in soap bubbles, Lloyd walked in, and used a damp rag to wash the counters. We worked together to clean the kitchen. He dried the dishes as soon as I had them clean, we made a perfect team.

"H-hey, could I ask something?" The blonde boy asked, putting a plate back in a cabinet.

"Of course," I replied, nodding nervously. To be honest, I had no idea what he was going to say, he had been quiet for a while.

"Do you think you could stay with me for a few more nights..? I just.. I really enjoy your company, and it feels less scary with you there with me, you know?" He continued, his cheeks flushing.

"I don't mind at all.. I'd hate to be alone, too," I smiled.

As sensei called, Lloyd ran off to see what he needed, looking back at me with a soft, heart wrenching smile.

I walked through Lloyd's bathroom, picking his discarded hoodie off of the floor on my way out. Without thinking, I sunk my face into the soft green fabric, Lloyd's warm scent, like a forest flooded with the purest sunshine overwhelmed my senses. I stood there for way too long, breathing it in. Lloyd walked in, making me jump and snap out of it. My cheeks flushed deep red, I took the rest of our clothes and hurried out of the room, feeling Lloyd's emerald eyes following me.

I successfully avoided Lloyd as I went about my morning. I couldn't stop playing the sweet moments of the last few days over in my head, like wearing his hoodie, and laying in his arms, the butterflies in my stomach when holding his hand. I finally sat down outside in the garden, bright sunshine warming me up. I must've sat there for an hour, my thoughts filled with the blonde boy with the gorgeous green eyes. I swear I had seen stars in them the previous night. There were no words to explain him other than pretty. He was so, so pretty-

"Hey, y/n!" Lloyd called as he bounded over to me. I wish I could have taken a picture -it was quite possibly the best thing I had ever seen; the tall, lanky boy running through the bright green grass, matching his eyes. He picked a flower as he slowed, a golden yellow buttercup.

Lloyd plopped down next to me on the rock where I was seated, smiling brightly. He held the flower out, smiling wider as I took it.

"How are you, sunshine?" He beamed, not noticing how fast my heart was racing, and how my smile grew until my cheeks hurt, giggling at the new pet name.

"H-hi there, Lloydie," I blurted, the words unintentionally escaping my brain. His eyes softened as his face flooded with color. He pushed a blonde lock out of his eye, moving closer to me. I looked up at him and his hand moved to my cheek. I leaned into his hold, putting my hand over his as his face drew closer to mine. I quickly closed the distance, our lips pressing together in a sweet kiss. His lips were soft against mine. I closed my eyes, the kiss becoming rough. My hands ran through his silky golden hair, and we separated to catch our breath. I looked into his emerald eyes, a pink dusted his cheeks and some of my light red lipstick rubbed off on him.

"I-I'm sorry," I stuttered, my body shaking and butterflies flitting around in my stomach.

"That was... perfect," the blonde boy said, pushing his hair back. He was a mess, lipstick smudged all around his lips, but he was the prettiest boy I had ever seen..