#i just had to write it as quickly as possible
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bunnis-monsters · 2 days ago
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🎄NSFW 🎄
warning: oviposition, gangbang, fluff+smut
Your first Christmas with the bee hybrids was… certainly an experience.
You’ve only been queen for a year. Your own little ones are barely toddlers learning to walk and fly, but the babies from the previous queen have grown attached and see you as their mama too.
“Mama, what’s Christmas?”
Oh, the dreaded question. The hive had been teaching the little ones human traditions and simple biological facts to make sure they grew up knowing how to properly take care of their queen.
“Oh… it’s a holiday where the family gathers around, exchanged presents, and then we eat a nice dinner.”
One of your own toddles over, teething on one of your fingers as you speak. “Sometimes during the season, people go caroling or look at Christmas lights. There’s a lot of baking as well.”
They all let out a collective “ooo”.
This was the beginning of the end.
The second Halloween was over, the baby bees were buzzing around, begging their mama for some Christmas fun. It wasn’t fair that the humans got to celebrate such cool traditions while they “wasted away” in their cribs.
“Mama, I wanna make cookies!”
“A-and I want to see Santa!”
“Mama, are we elves?”
Overwhelmed by all of their requests and… odd questions, you quickly roped in the adults in your hive to help you make Christmas possible for your baby bees.
Surprisingly, the hardest part was your subjects trying to comprehend why the little ones should receive a gift from an outsider of the hive.
“This Santa creature… is he safe? What does he want in return for gifts of this amount? I’m not sure we have enough honey to satisfy such a beast.”
That’s when you had to break it to the adults of your hive that Santa was in fact not real, and that all of the presents would come from them.
A few of your attendants whined, burying their faces in your neck and tummy, rubbing their fluff against you. “My queen, he’s not real? We won’t get presents?”
“Oh dear…”
It took the entire month of November to simply gather all of the supplies together, and you wondered if it would be possible to give your babies the Christmas they wanted.
First up on the list was Christmas caroling. They refused to do it in the hive, babbling on about spreading Christmas cheer.
So you hid their antennas under hats, bundled them up nice and warm, and escorted them down a relatively safe human street. The bee hybrids guarded the little ones, buzzing threateningly at anyone that got to close as they sang their little songs.
You watched out of the corner of your eyes as one of them fell face first into a snow bank, their little legs wiggling while being pulled out by one of the guards.
It was difficult not to laugh.
After their caroling, they wanted to play in the snow for a while. You let them play until they were running to you and crying, their little noses runny and their hands cold.
“Alright, let’s go home.”
Through December, you helped them do fun crafts and write their letters to Santa. There was a certain magic in the air, everyone was excited for the big night.
And then it came. Christmas Eve was filled with activities, the first being a special breakfast.
The next activity was baking cookies for Santa. Since you had so many little ones, multiple ovens had to be used just to make enough cookies for them to decorate.
Of course they all ate most of them, unable to resist the sugary treats, but you were able to save a plate full for Santa.
They all gathered around the giant tree the bee hybrids brought into the hive, all giggling and decorating it as others snacked on the Christmas cookies. Seeing your cute little fuzz balls so happy made your heart soar.
The last activity before bed was to watch a Christmas movie, and they all wanted to be snuggled up with you while they waited for Santa.
They all wore little matching pajamas, their wings buzzing and antennas twitching as they curled up with their mama.
“Mama… Christmas is the best…” one of your babies cooed as another nursed. They were still so little, you hoped you’d have many more Christmas memories like this in the future.
Carefully, you untangled yourself from the pile of sleeping baby bees and made you way to the adult Christmas party.
When you opened the door, all eyes were on you. Some were drunk from overripe fruit while others were feasting on sweets and playing games while waiting for you to arrive.
And every single one of them was hard.
“My queen~!”
You were approached by your attendants, who all rubbed around you, desperate for your attention after you had been busy with the babies all day. “We missed you… everyone’s been waiting for our Christmas present!”
All of the bee hybrids cooed and hummed, buzzing with excitement. In exchange for them working so hard to give the babies a nice Christmas, you promised to give them a special treat.
Your body.
Instantly you were surrounded, being caressed and sniffed, your clothes easily coming off. Your hive had been working nonstop all month to make you and the babies happy, which meant you hadn’t been mated with much.
And embarrassingly enough, you craved this as much as they did.
You cried out in ecstasy as one of the bees latched onto your clit, sucking softly as your cunt was being fucked by another. Both of your nipples were being attacked, and your mouth was stuffed with a fat cock.
“Is this okay, my queen?”
“Ahh, my queen, you’re so tight…”
It was a night full of many orgasms, your tummy heavy and full of eggs by morning.
Each bee hybrid got their turn inside of your cunt, and admittedly it was arousing to watch them jerk off to the image of you being fucked by the others, some even sucking and fucking each other because they were too impatient.
But they ended up completely satisfied, lapping softly at your cunt, licking up some of the cum and gently pushing eggs back into your pussy.
You were so, so full and kept cumming around the eggs that it was hard to keep them inside… but your attendants swooped in to take care of the aftercare and make sure you would be ready for the morning.
You yawned, resting against a fluffy bee hybrid as your little ones opened their presents in the morning. They were all so happy, giggling and carrying around their toys to show to their mama.
It was a great first Christmas with the bee hybrids, and each one of them was looking forward to next year!
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m00nl1ghts1vt · 3 days ago
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Introducing Neighbor!Matt x Brat!Reader
🎵 Name in the Sand by Lil Skies
In which Brat!Reader lives directly below Neighbor!Matt and his brothers. Her beauty sleep is constantly disturbed by the boys rowdiness. After dealing with their bullshit for months, she finally gets the courage to go upstairs and give her noisy neighbors a piece of her mind. The only thing she didn't expect was him and his Mattitude. This quickly turns to a neighborly feud — Matt making sure to stomp thru his shared apartment every chance he gets. Especially when he takes notice to his bedroom being directly above Brats. His pettiness pushes her to her boiling point once a week, she’d stomp up the stairs, red-faced while pounding on their door. Matt was always the one to deal with her and he always had a pissed off scowl engraved deep into his face. Deep down, a part of him just loved seeing her beat red in the face, her voice so angelic it barely seemed like she was mad. He'd never admit that, though.
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Brat!Reader
🎵 Normal Girl by SZA.
Twenty-One. Party girl. Baddie vibes. Only child. Mommy issues. Daddy's Girl. The color red. Vinyl records. Her cat, Wendy, is her life. Always has the least lighting possible in her apartment. Works from home. Door dashes every meal. Struggles with her mental health. Hates being alone. Goes out almost every weekend. Always stuck in her head. Likes peace and quiet, unless it's her that's being loud. Messy queen. Hard exterior but so soft once she lets her guard down. Does not want to be fucked with - at all. Hates how attractive Matt is because she can't stay mad at him. Can't fucking stand her noisy upstairs neighbors, they're always disturbing her beauty sleep.
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Neighbor!Matt
🎵Nuts by Lil Peep
Twenty-One. Homebody. Loser yet bad boy vibes. Triplet but gives off middle child energy. Commitment issues. Stoner. Gamer. Struggles with his mental health. Mattitude. Always tired. Lonely but loves his solitude. Would rather cut his own foot off than talk to a stranger. Secretly wants to catnap Wendy. Protective af. Always keeps an eye out for Brat to come home. Has no problem telling Brat like it is/putting her in her place. Lowk an asshole at times. Doesn't bite his tongue for anybody. Has the biggest crush on his bitchy downstairs neighbor, but he always denies it when asked. Loves messing with Brat because he knows she'll come pounding on his apartment door, its the highlight of his week.
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♡‧₊˚ New au alert 🥰 I've been writing about babydaddy!Chris so much that I was missing my boy lol. Let me know your thoughts! Big thanks to @sweetshuga, @strnilolover & @chrislilcumslvt for helping me out with this one, I appreciate you guys soo much 🫶🏻
First Blurb
Tags - @lvrsturniolo @ribread03 @unknvhx @m11rx @sweetshuga @loveparqdise @frickin-bats @delusional-4-fake-people @katie-tibo @leila-marie4 @thepubeburgler @courta13 @shadowthesim @trevorsgodmother @watercolorskyy @chrislilcumslvt @luvr4miya @strnilolover @sagesturns
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© M00NL1GHTS1VT - please do noy copy my work
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st8rkey · 24 hours ago
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cannot get enough of your stories — just gonna dump my thoughts while reading 🤍🤍 it’s gonna be a long dump probably so excuse me. for some reason the reblog was gone so sorry if you see this twice 😭
Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.
oh WOW. this is like the hottest thing ever?? the way he turns around to look at her, smiling and then WINKING TOO?! this is why i can’t get enough of your stories – you always make me giggle like a 6-year-old girl 😫😫
“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it.
i would be laughing my ass off if someone did this to me. embarrassing much? get the fuck out ❤️
“She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.
yes sir!! 🫡🫡 whatever you say
Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.
oh this is too cute. the shy smile.. please i’m gonna throw my phone across the room.
“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”
“You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.
“I’ve had a crush on you too,��� you admit..
“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.
DO YOU WANT ME DEAD???? ☺️☺️ “The fuck you have?” i’m pulling my hair out. your stories never fail to amaze me in every way possible.
the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.
i can’t stop laughing at this 😭😭 the way you write smut with these funny moments mixed in is just amazing.
“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall. — i had to put my phone down for a minute, needed to catch my breath.
“Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” — i don’t even know what to say, im dumbfounded.
“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?”
“Boyfriend privileges,”
their banter is the cutest thing ever.
Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.
Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC
oh my god. literally just oh my god.
what did tumblr do to deserve you, HELLO?
twenty-five days. so so proud of you!! i just have no words with how much i love your account. you never fail to amaze me 🥹❤️ you deserve a standing ovation for all the work you’ve put into this and all your other stories.
𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼
𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬
𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: 𝔽𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟’ 𝕃𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕪
𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
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warnings: mutual pining, swearing, drinking, rafe and the reader are intoxicated, oral (male + female receiving), bathroom sex, semi-public sex, spanking, unprotected p in v, pullout method, rough oral, dirty talk, praise wet + messy, cum tasting
📖 All of my asks got deleted 💕😭 so I'm not sure who requested this, but thank you! When you're getting hit on by a loser at your local college bar “boyfriend” Rafe comes in to save the day.
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Reader’s POV:
The crowd's roar is deafening as you sit pressed against the glass of the college hockey area. The game had barely begun, but the energy was already electric—hit after hit, shot after shot. Your friend Lexi shouts and claps, pulling you out of your daze as she bangs her wool mittens against the glass.
Rafe Cameron… Your eyes track him as he streams by confidently, his red and black jersey rippling behind him as he skates, dodging the defenseman on his way to the net.
You smile, biting your lip as you look at the man before you. He sat two rows ahead of you in your accounting class, the two of you exchanging no more than two words all year. Still, there’s just something about him that has your heart racing every time you see him.
“You’re staring,” your friend smiles, looking at you from the corner of her eye. She lifts her draft beer to her lips, grinning against the rim before sipping.
“What?” You giggle as you stuff your hands in your pockets. “Am not.” You lie as the warmth of your little crush creeps up your neck, pooling hot in your cheeks.
“Yes, you are, she teases. “And, honestly, I don’t blame you…”
You roll your eyes away, but you can’t get the smile off your face. Rafe skates by the student section, glancing briefly at the glass as he cleans the snow off his stick. The corners of his lips curl into a smile, making your pulse skip, but you quickly shake it off.
I mean, it was a good shift… He had to be happy about that; you explain it away.
After the game wore on, the players moved faster, hits got harder, and the scoreboard stayed locked at an even 2 to 2. You could feel the determination and intensity radiating off him every time he hit the ice; you couldn’t take your eyes off him—like you would’ve regardless.
With less than a minute of play, Rafe broke away from the traffic with the puck on his stick. The crowd rose to its feet, getting louder and louder the closer he got until he drew his stick back and fired at the net. The sound of the rubber puck clanged off the pipe, and the crowd went wild when the red light flashed. The buzzer drones, its sound quickly swallowed up in the Goal Song.
You jump to your feet, clapping and cheering with the crowd. Rafe skates toward the middle, grinning as his teammates mob him, but once that celebration breaks apart, he turns to the student section, helmet off, hair wet with sweat, staring directly at you, smiling, sealing the deal with a cheeky wink.
There was no mistaking it… The look, the smile, the wink. It was meant for you and you alone.
“Did you see that?” Your friend screams before you can even fully process what happened.
“I… Uh…” You stammer, looking at her to confirm what you saw before you say anything, knowing full-well she could be asking about the goal and not Rafe.
“Oh, please,” Lexi scoffs teasingly as she shoves you away. “That shit was for you, and you know it.”
The car ride to the bar was filled with music and laughter. You can't help but get lost in your thoughts. Replaying that moment a few times before opening Instagram, fingers hovering over the search bar.
“Just do it,” your friend laughs, watching it all; face twisting slightly as she catches you debating.
“I didn't ask you,” you chide light-heartedly.
“You’re thinkin’ about followin’ him… Just do it,” she challenges you.
“Do you think that he would have followed me if he was interested?” You ask as you look at his handsome profile picture.
You hesitate for another second, looking through a couple of his newer pictures. And just when you’re about to take the plunge, you look up at the little heart in the right-hand corner, seeing a new notification. New follower, Rafe Cameron.
Your eyes widen on the screen, and you and your friend gasp in unison. Before you can even think about it further, she clicks the little blue confirm button for you.
“What the hell?” You scold her, slapping her away.
“I’m invested, I’m sorry,” she laughs. “What? Were you gonna say ‘no’?” You shake your head ‘no’ and smile, looking at your new friend, feeling your excitement rise.
The bar downtown is packed with post-game and Saturday night traffic. The music is loud, and the energy is high as students pour in to celebrate the hockey team’s win and the start of winter break. You push through the crowd, making your way up to the bar. You order a few mixed drinks before snapping some pictures.
”Ooh,” Lexi coos. “That one’s perfect.”
You upload the pic of the two of you holding drinks, tagging the bar. It wasn’t entirely intentional—or that’s what you told yourself. If Rafe just happens to see it and shows up? Well, that was just a beautiful coincidence.
The night rages on, drinks flowing, conversations blending into laughter, more friends arriving, turning your little group of two into a full-on party. You start to relax a little more, feeling the liquor course through your system, and then you feel something else as a large hand rests on your lower back.
“Hey, Babe.”
Your eyes widen, and you freeze, hearing a voice you were not expecting nor wanted to hear. You turn slowly, coming face-to-face with Mark, a guy from your accounting class, too. The kind of guy who made you excited about the semester’s end. Unfortunately, he was the type of guy who never took ‘no’ for an answer…
“Hi, Mark,” you mumble, keeping your tone flat and uninterested, knowing that even the slightest bit of kindness would be confused for much more.
“You looking stunning tonight,” he praises as he steps even closer, making you take one step back.
“Thanks,” you sigh.
“You here with anyone?” He asks curiously as he scans the crowd. Your friend looks between the two of you—her judgment of his hidden piss-poorly. The girl was unapologetically Team Rafe all the way, and Mark Lundell is no Rafe Cameron.
“Just my friends,” you say as you swirl your finger around lazily, gesturing to your group gathered around.
“No invite?” He fake pouts and you feel your body recoil when you hear it. Mark seems to notice your disdain, but it doesn't stop him from trying. He wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you in possessively. You rest your hand on his chest, pushing away slightly, but he doesn’t get the hint.
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask you-”
“No thanks,” you shout over the music, not even curious about what he meant to ask.
He chuckles and scoffs playfully, turning his hat to the back as he moves his face closer. “Hey-Hey, don’t be like that,” he soughs.
You close your eyes, swallowing thickly as he continues to talk, wondering what it’s gonna take to get him to fuck off- “She’s with me,” Rafe’s voice rolls through your mind like a sweet dream.
You turn, breath catching as you see Rafe walking in, just a few feet separating the two of you with his big hands stuffed in his jacket. His sharp gaze locks on Mark, and he gives him a little whistle and a nod, kindly telling him to ‘fuck off.’
Mark scowls, looking down at you and then Rafe. “Cameron?” He asks. The two boys are familiar with each other from the gym locker room—exchanging glances when the baseball boys leave and the hockey boys arrive.
“I’m her boyfriend,” Rafe says smoothly, eliminating the space between you. Your heart stutters at the word, but Rafe doesn’t miss a beat, reaching behind you to shove Mark out of the way before taking his “rightful” place at your side.
“Since when?” Mark asks as his expressions shifts.
“Since none of your fuckin’ business, Lundell,” Rafe smiles, his tone calm but firm.
“You know, if you’re not interested, you can just say that,” Mark snaps, recovering from his bruised ego by turning to the bartender, gesturing for a new bottle of Coors. “You don’t need to be a fuckin’ bitch-”
“The fuck was that now?” Rafe smiles, his eyes wide and wild as he separates from you, standing toe-to-toe with him. Mark doesn’t back down, his chest puffed as he looks slightly up at Rafe.
Rafe bites his lips, holding back a laugh, his relaxed demeanor’s somehow more intimidating than any show of aggression.
“Call her a fuckin’ bitch again, and we’re gonna have a problem…”
“Oh, yeah-”
“Honestly, bitch. We already have problems because regardless of who the fuck I am, she told you no… And you kept pushin’,” Rafe hisses, emphasizing the final word with a rough shove.
Mark’s a big guy himself, who doesn’t move too far, but the contact made him flinch, leaving Rafe holding back yet another chuckle.
“Walk away,” Rafe mumbles, his voice low and steady.
Mark’s dark eyes lock on yours. The bartender walks over, resting his beer on the bar top. He takes his out, snagging the bottle off the hardwood before rolling his eyes and sucking his teeth, disappearing into the thick college crowd.
You breathe deeply, letting out the deep breath you didn’t know you’d been holding in, quickly turning your attention to Rafe.
“You okay?” He asks protectively as he twists toward you.
You look up at him, your heart racing, and you nod, “Yeah… Thanks for that.”
“No problem,” he shrugs it off. Rafe rests his hand on your lower back, making your heart race, lighting you on fire as he flags down the bartender himself. “You want a drink, princess?”
Before you can overthink it, you rise onto your tippy toes, kissing his cheek. Rafe freezes, a soft, shy smile spreading on his lips, making her feel weak.
“Truly… Thank you,” you whisper. “Do you want a drink? It’s on me,” you assure me, turning your attention to the bartender as she arrives, but you can tell Rafe’s mind is still stuck on the kiss. “Rafe?” You giggle, resting your hand on his chest, feeling his heart bang underneath.
“Uh… Yeah. I’d love that, sweetheart. A Coors. Thanks.”
You order your drink, and Rafe reaches over you, his arms a little longer. He passes the bartender his card instead, starting a tab as you protest, but he just rolls his blue eyes and smiles.
The rest of the night is a blur of laughter, easy conversation, and alcohol. Rafe’s charming, funny, and much more than the reserved guy you had seen in class.
You talk about everything—school, hockey, your favorite places in town—and with every passing minute, your little crush blooms into something more. You feel comfortable, like you’ve known each other forever. And to Mark and the rest of the bar, that little boyfriend title he used honestly looked like the real thing.
At some point, the drinks catch up with the both of you. Rafe leans closer, his breath warm against your neck, making you turn into him. The boy quickly pulling you up onto his lap.
“You know…” He says, his words slightly slurred. “I’ve had a big fat crush on you all semester.”
Your eyes widen on his, hands resting on his chest as your mouth falls open in surprise. “You have?” You practically gasp, making him laugh at how happy you look with his admittance.
“Mhmm,” he hums as he wraps his big arms around your waist, moving closer. “You’re so—fuck,” he chuckles as the words get caught on his lips. “You are so fuckin’ pretty.” You laugh and shake your head. “What?” He asks bashfully.
“You, Rafe Cameron, are the prettiest boy I have ever seen-”
“I’m pretty?” He chuckles, lifting his eyebrow as he points to his chest.
“Mhmm…” You giggle.
“Well, shit… Thank you,” he smiles and flutters his lashes playfully.
Just like Mark did, Rafe grabs his hat, twisting it to the back, trying to eliminate the space between the two of you, but unlike the boy before, your tummy only fills with butterflies. Rafe tips his heavy head against your temple, chuckling drunkenly.
“I’ve had a crush on you too,” you admit, and as soon as the last word leaves your lips, he’s wrapping his big arms around you, pressing a rough, wet kiss against your cheek, making you squeal.
“The fuck you have?” He asks as he pulls back fast.
“I’m serious," you giggle as you turn to the side, looking directly into his gorgeous eyes.
Rafe bites his lip, studying yours, his glassy gaze hanging at half-mast. “Well, shit… S’my lucky night. Huh?” He asks.
“Feelin’ pretty lucky myself,” you whisper as the two of you get closer and closer. The air between you feels electric—charged with the buzz of too many drinks and sexual tension. Rafe’s gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, the two of you not realizing how close you’re getting until your lips connect.
The bar around you hums in the distance, and it feels like just the two of you for the moment. It’s uncoordinated—but perfect in its imperfection. Your lips move against his, making heat radiate through your body. Rafe smiles against your lips; you return the same, the pair of you pulling apart, giggling like teenagers caught in the act.
You look at Rafe—that same fire lit his eyes that’s burning in yours. He holds your cheeks in his hands, desperate to kiss him again.
“Should we-”
”We should,” you hum.
“Do that again. Yeah?”
“Mhmm,” you giggle. Rafe guides you off the stool, pulling closer, the two of you stumbling slightly, giggling before your lips find each other again.
“We’re kinda drunk,” he whispers against your mouth.
“Is that okay?” You breathe, just hoping he’ll say ‘yes.’
“It’s okay with me. Is it okay with you, princess?” He asks.
“It’s okay-” You pant as your lips crash into his, warm and messy. You let out a soft moan against his lips, hands scratching into the hair at the nape of his neck as his hands roam your body. His grip on you is firm—yet another assurance that he wants you just as bad.
The world spins around you, your head fuzzy from the drinks and your perfect kiss. You break away just enough to grab his hand, tugging him toward the hallway. "Where are we-" Rafe starts, but you cut him short with another kiss, this one hungrier, more insistent.
"The bathroom," you whisper against his lips, feeling him smile again. Rafe draws back, looking both ways before opening the door. The two of you kiss your way inside, pushing back into the first open stall.
Rafe grabs your hips in his big hands, pulling you into him. You can feel his semi-hard cock pressed against his jeans, getting stiffer every second. You let out a breathy sigh against his soft, sweet mouth, Rafe taking the opportunity to slide his tongue inside as his lips move against yours.
He rolls his back against the bathroom wall, making you gasp as his thigh splits your legs. He leans back slightly, guiding you closer, leading you to grind your aching clit on his upper thigh. Rafe smiles against your lips as you take his wordless direction. He moves his hands from his lips to your ass, squeezing as you rock with the tempo of your kiss.
You gasp as you feel his cool hands rest against your tummy, your little breath turning into a deep, needy moan as he cups your laced-covered breasts in his rough hands.
You continue to grind as his lips press roughly against your neck, sucking with a bruising strength as you feel a warmth spread through you, little pangs of pleasure spurring from between your thighs.
You draw back slightly, biting your lip as you ride his leg. Rafe stares back at you, the look in his eyes painting a filthy picture of the two of you doing so much more. Thinking about you riding him just like this, your warm, wet cunt hugging him tight.
You can feel yourself soaking through your panties with each swivel of your hips. You grab his beautiful face, pulling him in for another kiss, hungry for more. “Rafe,” you whisper needily, your name leaving his lips so sweetly, making him moan into your kiss.
“Yeah, pretty?” He rasps, this voice sweet and thick like honey.
“Can I?” You ask shyly, but honestly, it’s why you brought him in here in the first place, desperately wanting your lips wrapped around him and maybe more…
“Can you what, princess?” He drawls before taking your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and tugging, making chills fall down your spine.
“Can I suck your cock?” You ask gently, feeling Rafe let out a breathy laugh like he can’t believe those words are leaving your sweet lips.
“You sure, baby?” He asks as he reaches his hand down, already working on his button.
You move down to your knees, looking at him through your lashes. “M’sure,” you smile. “Very, very sure.”
You grope his clothed cock with one hand, drawing his zipper down with the other before lowering his pants just enough, looking at his dick tented under the cotton, a wet stain of precum gathered on it. You wrap your lips around his tip, wetting Rafe’s boxers, making his breath catch in his muscular chest.
You suck the taste off, quickly pulling down his boxers too. Your eyelashes flutter as you take him in, his tip still weeping precum, long and thick… You release a desperate moan, thinking about what his length would feel like pushing in and out of your wet cunt, wondering if you could take him all.
You stroke him slowly, watching his eyes fall shut, head falling back on the metal partition. Your heart sinks a little, seeing his head sticking out over the top of the stall about four inches; those concerns quickly wave away as you hear a deep groan leave his lips.
Rafe looks down at you again as you hold his throbbing dick in your hand, running your tongue along his length before teasing the tip. Your hand drifts under his t-shirt, fingers working up his cut abs, feeling the little divots under your fingers deepening with each sharp breath he takes.
“Shit,” he pants as you bind your lips around him fully. Rafe wraps his hand around the top of the bathroom door, squeezing tightly as you take him to the back of your throat, bobbing again and again.
Rafe’s head falls back, knocking against the wall, making his eyes double at the loud sound; the man quickly shushing you with a finger up to his pretty lips and a playful smile like you had anything to do with that noise.
You wrap your lips around his tip, sucking, causing him to buck his toned hips, pitching his long cock in your throat. You lift your hand, slipping it through the slight space between his body and jeans, cupping his heavy balls in your hands.
"Fuck, princess," he groans, "I’m gonna cum.” You take your cue, gagging on him, salvia and precum drooling out of the sides of your lips. He bites his lips, stiffening deep moan.
You rest your hands on his thighs— Rafe’s muscles quivering underneath your palms. He cups the back of your head in his hands, tugging you as close as he can get as he cums deep in your throat.
His breath shudders as you draw out the last bits of his pleasure, swallowing it all as he looks down at you in a drunken, lust-ridden daze. Rafe pushes out a sharp breath as you pull off his cock nice and slow, cleaning off your lips with the back of your hand as he helps you off the floor, leading you back to him. You pant into your kiss, your deep breathing competing with his. “That was so fucking good,” he mumbles.
“Mmm… Glad I could make you feel good,” you whisper as you tug up his boxers, trapping his hard cock in the band of it, not wanting to pressure him into more, given you were the one that pulled him in here in the first place. “Should we head out?” You ask, between soft kisses.
“I don’t wanna,” he mumbles. “Do you?”
You giggle against his lips, moving a little closer. “No… I just don’t wanna pressure-“
“Pressure me?” He asks in disbelief, stopping you before you can finish the thought as his big hands cup your cheeks, pulling you into an even deeper kiss. “You fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“I don’t know,” you giggle lightly.
“You can use me however you’d like, princess,” he whispers. “Told you… It’s my lucky night. I’m feelin’ lucky. I’m gettin’ lucky. This is the best night I’ve had in a very long time,” he mumbles the last three words between tender kisses. ”Let me taste you, sweetheart.”
”Yeah?” You ask softly.
“Fuck, yeah…” He hums as he fingers the button of your jeans. “Let me get you good and wet first, hmm?” He asks as he rolls you against the wall.
Rafe tugs at your pants just like you did, making you gasp, pulling them down just enough to get at your panties. He slips his big fingers into the waist pant, spreading your legs slightly, making you whimper as he runs two big digits through your slick folds.
“Shit, pretty. Fuckin’ soaked f’me already,” he hums against your lips. “Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock.” He pushes his fingers inside you, making you reach for a breath; Rafe curls them, drawing out a moan from your pillowy lips.
“I want that so bad,” you pant as you stare into his sin-darkened eyes as he starts to work even quicker, broad palm smacking against your puffy clit repeatedly, making it that much harder to hold back your sounds of pleasure.
“You want my dick, princess?”
“Mhmm…” You hum needily.
“Think you can wait?” Rafe teases as he twists his hand, making a moan rip from your throat that has you both looking at each other in shock, fighting back a laugh that quickly turns into another whine as his rough thumb circles on top of your clit.
You bite down on your bottom lip, tossing your head back, and just when you think it can get any better, he moves to his knees, flicking his tongue across your clit, making your muscles jump as his fingers continue to dart in and out. Rafe chuckles against your clit, the warmth of his voice making you whimper, toes curling, fingers twisting in his hair.
“Just like that, Rafe… Don’t stop,” you plead as you feel yourself about to lose control completely.
“Cum for me, princess,” he hums against your sex, the vibrations sending you over the edge, leaving your body fluttering around his big fingers, muscles trembling uncontrollably. He doesn’t stop until your body relaxes fully, you fighting for a breath as you slump against the bathroom wall.
“Holy shit,” he practically moans as he rises to his feet again, his handsome face flushed, chin glistening with your arousal. You pull Rafe to your lips, tasting the two of you together, your body feeling like it could float away.
Rafe pushes you into the wall, his cock hard just like it was before—his want for you practically oozing off his skin. “So, should we get out of here?” He teases you with your own words, chuckling against your lips as you giggle against his; Rafe has no intention of leaving unless that’s what you want. You have no intention of leaving either as you tug at his jeans and boxers again. “Need you so fucking bad,” Rafe mutters as he turns you around, grabbing your wrists, guiding your hands on the wall in front of you as you push your ass onto his hard cock.
Rafe’s hands drift underneath your hockey jersey, lifting it slightly as you bend over. “Gonna get you one of my older jerseys when we get home, aight?” He hums, smacking your ass with his big hand.
“You’re takin’ me home?” You ask sweetly.
“Yeah, baby… ‘Course I am,” he drawls as he leans in, pressing his chest against your back, pushing a gentle kiss on your lips as he traces his fat tip through your slit, bumping your clit, making you gasp.
“We doin’ condoms or what, princess?” Rafe questions as he bullies your hole, bottom lip tucking between his teeth, teasing himself with your warm, wet pussy praying you’ll say ‘no.’
“Boyfriend privileges,” you giggle as you look over your shoulder and smile, giving him a little wink.
“Fuck, I love the sound of that, baby-”
You draw in a sharp breath against as Rafe thrusts into you slowly, his fat tip filling you before he presses in inch by inch, finally bottoming you out. His hands rub along your lower back, letting you adjust to his size; your cunt pulling him in just like he imagined, leaving him tossing his head back to the ceiling.
Rafe grabs your hips, grunting about how tight you are as he pulls out to the tip, shoving himself back inside, making you reach behind your back, wrapping your trembling hand around his wrist to steady yourself and keep from crying out.
The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the bathroom, but you couldn't care less. And neither does Rafe, slapping your ass again, making your pussy tighten around his fat cock as he ruts into you quicker and harder.
“Holy shit,” you whimper, your bottom lip quivering in overstimulation.
“Mpfhh…” He grunts, pounding into your soaked center again and again. “So good, princess… Taking me so fuckin’ good. You gonna cum? Fuckin’ cum for me,” he begs as he pulls you back fast, pistoning his hips, fucking you on his dick as your fingers spiral on your clit.
“Oh—Oh, fuck. Rafe,” you squeal as you cum around his cock. Rafe’s jaw tightens, using his last bit of power to fuck you through your orgasm, and the second he pulls out, you gasp, feeling his climax land hot on your lower back. His cum pools in the dip of your spine, rolling down your warm skin.
Rafe clutches your hips in his hands, taking a deep breath as his throbbing dick resting on your ass. The two of you panting and groaning, coming down from your highs together.
He cleans you off, helping you back into your clothes between soft kisses and sweet nothings. Rafe looks at your sweater, scrubbing off a little bit of cum caught on the fabric, making a joke about how he’s technically on the back of your jersey now, making the two of you laugh way too hard.
Rafe’s hand is warm in yours; his firm yet gentle grip guides you through the packed bar. Laughter and music swell around you, but all you can focus on is Rafe’s touch and his thumb gently brushing against your hand.
The two of you step up to the bar at the same spot where you started your night, standing side-by-side with your knight in shining armor. You glance up at him and smile as he orders you two drinks before closing your tab.
Rafe kiss-swollen lips curl into a small smile as he feels the heat of your gaze out of the corner of his eye. He grabs the check off her hands, scribbling a tip and a total. Rafe sets it down and moves a little closer, stepping chest to chest with you; your back backed up against the bar. His hair is messy from your bathroom romp; slightly mussed, a soft purple mark forming on his neck from your lips, a particularly rough kiss.
Rafe grabs your hand, flipping it over, pen hovering over your palm. You watch as he works: his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, his chicken scratch handwriting tattooing your skin, but the words stop your heart.
Tomorrow night 7 pm Luna Rosa I like you a lot -RC
You blink, rereading it like your brain is playing tricks on you. But then he looks at you—those intense, drunken eyes locked onto yours—and kisses the back of your hand.
“I mean it, princess,” he mumbles softly. “In case you had any doubts.”
You rise on your tippy toes, kissing his cheek again like you did earlier in the night before tucking yourself in his neck. “I really like you too, Rafe,” you whisper.
When you pull away this time, he’s not just stunned silent; he’s ready. Rafe cups your cheeks in his hands again, kissing you deeply, pulling you into his arms, and there is absolutely no doubts. ♥️
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tags: @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl @lhhlver @rrafeswhore @slut-4-gojo @blair-bears-blog @loveesiren @cameronwillow @rafegf-real @alphabetically-deranged @ariana2saucyy @rafestoothbrush
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gaybitchfx · 18 hours ago
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Could you write about Tsukishima (from Haikyuu) having a very attractive but shy older brother? His brother is a 3rd year at a different school and is extremely oblivious to all the volleyball teams hitting on him. Oh! The brother is the other school's volleyball team manager.
- 🩶
✰𝓚. 𝓣𝓢𝓤𝓚𝓘𝓢𝓗𝓘𝓜𝓐✰
anyways, i like you a lot —★
putting on the music while i’m watching the boys
★—so i’ll do what you want
singing soft grunge just to soak up the noise -lana del rey
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𝓣𝓦: none!
𝓝𝓞𝓣𝓔: i didn’t know what to do for this one so i’m so sorry if its bad 😭
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YOU were tsukishima's older brother by a little over a year. it seems you took most of the good looks since your little brother was pretty much left with nothing possibly leading to his shitty personality but oh well. sighing softly, you let out a small yawn as you wandered off to your brothers school to give him his lunch he had forgotten but that was probably a little too late for that now huh? after all he was in after school at the moment participating in the volleyball team. oh how proud you were to hear he was into volleyball just as much as you were, of course you found this out from your mom and his friend since he never told you anything.
EVENTUALLY you arrived at the school, tsuki's boxed lunch in hand as you made it towards the gym, the sound of a volleyball hitting the ground with a loud 'smack' could be heard and followed along were the squeaking of shoes and some shouting. clearing your throat, you went and opened the door, peeking your head inside only for a volleyball to smack the door you were close to causing you to let out a surprised yelp. "watch where your hitting that hinata!" kageyama shouted at the short orange haired boy. looking around you eventually spotted your little brother causing a big bright smile to form on your face as you walked inside, tsuki clearly not happy to see you here of all places. "tsuki! you left your lunch at home and i had a feeling you were hungry, mom made your favorite." you said happily to him and went over to the other.
TSUKI was clearly embarrassed causing him to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head and quickly went over to you and snatched the boxed lunch out of your hand. "oooo! who's this cutie? i didn't know you had a brother!~" tanaka teased causing tsuki to let out an annoyed sigh. "shut up would you?" he scoffed and rolled his eyes. hinata looked over at kageyama and it was almost as if he were star struck, for a guy you were truly very beautiful. the rest of the team gathered around you and tsuki who dreaded being here now. "looks like you lucked out in looks tsukishima!" hinata giggled only for tsuki to shoot him a deadly glare causing the short boy to hide behind kageyama. "ah hello everyone.." you said sheepishly and bowed your head a little, your cheeks flushed softly from the amount of attention you were receiving.
FOR the next hour, you were bashed with 'compliments' or so you assumed but in reality a large portion of the volleyball team was flirting with you. tsuki of course knew how oblivious you he of course was trying his best to make everyone stop ogling over you. "you know, you have really beautiful eyes." nishinoya said with a smirk on his face causing you to smile sweetly. "thank you, i have my mothers eyes." you laughed softly as you adjusted your glasses a little. once you and tsuki left, you managed to get some of the teams numbers, what an odd afternoon.
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scarletttries · 21 hours ago
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When Baldur's Gate 3 Companions Fall in Love...(Baldur's Gate 3 Request)
Pairings: Astarion x Reader, Wyll Ravengard x Reader, Gale Dekarios x Reader, Shadowheart x Reader, Karlach x Reader
Author's Note: It's been a while! I haven't posted in a while but I've got some time at the moment and I'm just finishing a first playthrough of BG3 so wanted to write some headcanons for our charming companions. Consider me open for any BG3 request too, let me know if you want to see more pieces like this :)
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Astarion:
- Travelling with you makes Astarion feel grateful he's had hundreds of years to perfect his flirting technique. He knows exactly how to let you know what he's thinking without ever giving away too much of himself, how to flash his smile without ever lowering his guard. He thinks once again he knows exactly how to capture your attention, and possibly your body, without losing an ounce of control. That is until you say something that catches him completely off guard...
- "I'm really sorry to hear that." You should have laughed at his expense, his self-deprecating humour and haunted tales from his past worn like the toughest armour over silky open shirts. But you hadn't laughed, or scoffed, or replied with some equivalently sarcastic tone. Instead you'd offered empathy, a warm look and an extended hand that somehow didn't feel like pity to Astarion either.
"Well that's enough self-pity for tonight my dear." He quickly excused himself from the campfire, turning his back as he entered his tent to hide any visible blush his cheeks may muster from the way you said good night. Of course his blood didn't circulate that way any more, but he was almost sure he could feel his heart rising in his chest as it had when he was still a mortal man. No, this didn't feel right at all.
- It would be easy for Astarion to pretend he was only interested in a night of carnal pleasures with you because of all the beauty you possess, and he'll let everyone else think him a shallow man just the same. But when he lets his mind wander freely it's your kindness he finds himself dwelling on, or your firm but fair moral code that seems to carry you through these intrepid lands without doubt or tribulation. He almost wishes he had met you sooner, so sure that his life (and after-life) could have turned out quite different with you by his side at those strange early steps.
- Suddenly all his effortless flirting feels a lot more challenging and he can't decide if he should risk a small amount of sincerity to let you know how we feels, or just to double down on letting you know one night with him would ruin you for any other lover. Luckily both approaches are met with the affection he craves, and slowly but surely Astarion starts to feel like he might be able to have something real for once.
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Wyll:
- Ever the hopeless romantic, Wyll was already a firm believer in love at first sight by the time he ran into you and experienced it firsthand. He fears he cannot be too bold, his staunch commitment to his duties governing his life in a way that does not leave much room for any other kind of commitment. He tries to let his feelings settle at the back of his mind, in the hopes that in time they will become nothing but a dull ache he can learn to live with.
- That could not be less of the case for poor Wyll though, your face filling his every nightly dream and your voice echoing through his mind in every moment of silence. His heart grows heavier and heavier with each passing day you travel together and soon it feels almost inevitable that he will be yours, even if he can't quite bring himself to admit it yet. Once he has accepted that thought he must wrestle with the possibility that you might not feel the same and you will be added to his list of those he cares for most that have rejected him with scorn.
- Still he lets the lighter thoughts carry him through the toughest of times; what it might be like to hear you offer your own feelings back, how it would feel to see you smile only for him, what kind of life the two of you might be able to build in a simpler times, what he could finally do if you agreed to a wedding night together. He lets himself ruminate on that more often that he'd like to admit, all gentlemanly efforts banished from his mind when he sees you walk around his camp.
- While he builds up the courage to make his feelings known, you might catch him practicing the steps of an intricate dance one night when he thinks everyone is fast asleep.
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Gale:
- Gale has known love and loss before, the intensity of his past life making him consider keeping his heart closed off from others forevermore. But the gods have a funny way of keeping Gale on his toes, and introducing him to you certainly did that.
- At first you are just the warmest of friends to him: an ever-willing audience for his lifetime of tales and knowledge, a reliable companion for the throes of battle, a selfless treasure seeker who helps him fend off hunger. But over time he finds himself desperately scanning his mind for more and more facts that it would be worth waking you up to share, more tales to capture your attention, anything the two of you might do together to keep your focus on him and no one else.
- It's about when he wonders if the two of you might just camp in one tent together, that he realises he no longer views you as simply his closest friend. No, you have long passed that threshold into an entirely new realm of love. It feels so different to anything he has felt before, like your company is the warmest summer breeze after decades of stormy lightning in his heart. It feels safe and easy to be with you, like he could be content with almost nothing as long as you were by his side, looking at him with your near endless appreciation. Gale can't be sure exactly what to do about it, but he hopes the next time you draw back the opening on your tent and usher him in for another night of exchanging tales, that you might permit him to never leave.
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Shadowheart:
- It's hard to know love when you barely know yourself. That's what Shadowheart tells herself when she finds her mind wandering back to you after your memorable first impression. She has so much to learn about herself, and while she's grateful for the reliable company and kind sounding-board you provide, there's simply no room in her life for anything more.
- And yet the more she uncovers about herself, the more important it seems to have you by her side. It's like she cannot exist in this new fully realised version of herself if she doesn't know you. If she doesn't get to see herself through your eyes, to hear what you think, to have your presence beside her as he continues to take more and more steps forward down this path home.
- Without ever trying you have become the other half of Shadowheart, and by the time she realises it, she knows you must have the same awareness. There could be no way that you aren't as in tune to the depth of your bond as she is, leaving her only one question. Not if to address it. But when.
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Karlach:
- Though Karlach may not have a traditional heart anymore, she is more than capable of falling for the travelling companion that seems to bring out the best in her at every step. After years spent working for the devil and his underlings, having someone in her life that strives to make the world better and put her strength to good use is like the first sip of water after countless nights in the arid desert of the hells.
- Karlach knows she's as strong as they come, so she finds her eyes frantically searching you out in battle, pushing herself on and raging forwards to always keep you safe, to get you behind her, to make sure you go on to keep her company another day.
- Her time in this plane of existence may be more limited than some of the other characters, but that only means Karlach knows how important it is to truly 'live.' While the other companions may bide their time and carefully deliberate how best to inform you of their inconvenient feelings, when Karlach knows your heart is true, she's going to let you know she is all yours at the earliest, and steamiest, opportunity.
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futurepastme · 2 days ago
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Unmatched II
[Soulmate Au] [Act.I]
I hope I remembered to tag everyone who asked: @luflorysblog @valewright67 @schweetheart @funkiemoon @xs-crit-hit @dancingpieces @jellytamalies @shana-rosee @purpuraffe @saladscream @princess-of-morkva @orliththedragon @clairebonnefoy @enjaami @hakka84 @evedaser @tabbycat105 @guiltyscarlet @just-wandering-in-my-mind @percyspencer @tonystarkdeservesthewholeworld @thedollopheadofcamelot @amostunpleasantpeasant @toomanyfanficsbruh @braziiis @lottelorelei @acey-lacey @leana316 @the-sun-is-also-a-star @styxhuntress @rem-the-moth @caraspud @kintsugikid-moonysversion @beebsnas @221b-bitch-st @eat-a-handful-of-bees @highest-brightness @generouswolfdetective @read-write-thrive @0happyeverafter0 @lab-trash @faithiikins @musichooman
Act.II: Arthur Pendragon
Time seemed to pass very quickly for those who were part of the Royal Household. From feasts to meetings, from knights’ training and patrols to simple everyday tasks, everyone seemed to always have their hands full with their daily duties.
No one, though, had their hands fuller than Prince Arthur himself, who had recently risen to the position of Prince Regent after his father's sudden illness, which followed the unexpected reappearance of the now Princess Morgana Pendragon.
While the Prince was not yet King, Camelot already showed small but significant differences from King Uther's reign. Not only had he completely ceased public executions, but he had also stopped actively hunting magic users. And the most shocking and scandalous decision of all: Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon had started to knight commoners.
That brought new faces to Camelot, such as Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine to name a few, but also many others that came not only for the possibility of becoming a knight, but for the curiosity of what Camelot had to offer under the hands of a younger almost-King.
The new influx of people came with the additional benefit of bringing soulmates together. Wherever you went you could hear the stories of couples finding each other, and if you were lucky you could stumble upon a wedding celebration or two.
The newly soulmatched also contributed to the changes in Camelot. A lot of them stayed, choosing to continue their lives in the Kingdom, but a good few decided to leave, following their soulmates to whatever kingdom they called home.
As a consequence, many shops were closed and houses were abandoned, however, new ones appeared in their place with brand new couples and families. The old tailor shop became a bakery, the lower town butcher became a smithy, and young Gillis’ house turned into a carpenter shop accompanied by the carpenter's whole family.
Camelot was thriving under Arthur's Regency, and all that the people could think about was what would the Kingdom look like when he took the throne for good, knowing that no matter what the future brought, they would be safe in the good hands of their future King.
“I don't know what I’m doing.” A loud ‘clank’ resonated through the chambers when Arthur's head hit the table, hard enough to make the ink pot jump and to ruffle some sheets.
“Have you ever, though?”
“Shut up, Merlin!” Came the muffled response from the Prince, who still had his head pressed against the table top.
“C'mon, share with the room. What's wrong this time?” Merlin made his way across the room and sat himself on top of the table, next to Arthur's head. He had to resist the urge to run his fingers through Arthur's hair, which looked particularly soft today.
Arthur turned his head enough to lay it sideways on the table — his cheek squished against the wood — and raised his eyes to Merlin's.
“You are sitting on the prince's table.”
“I don't know, he doesn't look very princely from here.” Merlin smiled. Arthur looked very cute when he was pouting.
“Why are we friends again? I don't seem to remember.”
“You're deflecting.”
Arthur sighed and straightened up, only to sag back on his seat. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it a little bit. The gesture, somehow, soothing his nerves.
He let his hand fall on the arms of his chair and looked through his window. It was a sunny day and he could almost feel the kingdom buzzing with activity.
He looked back at Merlin and his watchful eyes.
Since the day, many moons ago, when Merlin opened up about his soulmate and completely broke down in front of the prince, Arthur had made a conscious effort to be more vulnerable around Merlin and let him see his emotions as they were — just like Merlin did then.
While this would never replace the connection and unity one finds in their soulmate, Arthur hoped that Merlin could find some comfort in having a friend who trusted him like that. Besides, to Arthur, it seemed only fair to repay Merlin with the same amount of trust he’d placed in Arthur that day.
Eventually, though, Arthur found out that he liked to share his feelings with Merlin. More than once he was overcome with the sudden need of telling him everything.
At some point, before that night but after they became friends, Arthur had learned to share with him the more worrisome matters and to trust Merlin's advice.
But now Arthur found it so easy to just open up to him. His fears and torments, his insecurities and moments of self doubt, his frustrations. As well as his hopes and dreams, and tiny moments of joy he felt during the day.
Feelings were not something that existed in Uther's Princely agenda, so Arthur grew up crushing them and putting them aside, treating them as a weakness. But Merlin had found his feelings and hugged them with his words, he held them with care and encouraged Arthur to nurture them.
He showed Arthur that he didn't have to be ashamed about them, at least, not with him.
So Arthur told him everything that troubled his heart.
“I’m…” he paused to breathe in, “I'm concerned, Merlin. I fear the choices I'm making are for my personal interest instead of for the good of the kingdom.”
“And what choices did you make that were for your personal interest? Please enlighten me.”
“Morgana, for one.”
“Ah, yes,” Merlin nodded and leaned forward. “The very selfish decision of supporting your sister when she was afraid your father was going to kill her. How could you?” He smirked, Arthur frowned.
“People have been leaving. More than 10 shops closed down just this last season.” Arthur tried again.
“And twelve more opened in their place.”
“The lack of public executions display a weak front to our kingdom, one with a lenient ruler that is too inexperienced to do what’s necessary. My way of ruling welcomes enemies to our doorsteps and might just be Camelot’s downfall.”
“Ah! So that’s what this is about.”
Arthur crossed his arms, waiting for an explanation.
“That’s not what you really think, you’re just quoting Lords Weird Moustache, Crooked Nose and Hairy Ears.” He numbered them on his fingers and finished with a smirk.
Arthur's frown deepened. “Lord Randall, Lord Belemy and Lord Tirswell have always been great assets to my father and have proven to be loyal men throughout his entire reign.”
Merlin huffed in annoyance. “Hairy, Nose and Moustache are your father's biggest old farts!”
“Merlin!”
Merlin crossed his arms. “You are so concerned about the good of the kingdom, when was the last time you've seen your people?”
“The last public hearing was—”
“No, no, no. No!” Merlin interrupted. “Public hearings are great to hear your people's problems, but when was the last time you've been with them? Like, among them?”
“Well, I…” Arthur opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked through the window again, the kingdom still buzzing.
It was true, since he became Regent he had been so focused on not disappointing anyone, that he hadn't had the time to walk through his kingdom.
It's not that he didn't want to, but with the whole Morgana-has-magic-and-is-his-blood-sister and his father falling in his unresponsive state, he had his hands full since before the council even agreed on his regency.
He was pulled out of his thoughts with the sharp sound of a clap coming from Merlin's direction.
“That settles it, then.” He jumped out of the table, filled with excitement. “Today we're having a stroll down the lower town.”
“We have a council meeting in two hours.”
“Which gives us over an hour, c'mon! Move your fat ass out of this chair.” Merlin started pulling him.
Arthur fought him, letting his body weigh him down on the chair.
It's not like he wouldn't follow Merlin, but he had to show some resistance. Imagine if Merlin knew how easily ready Arthur was to follow him anywhere. Unacceptable.
Besides, he liked this dance of theirs. Where Arthur weakly tried to stop him, and Merlin manhandled him into doing his bidding. It was fun.
That's how Prince Arthur spent his early evening walking around the lower town in the company of his servant.
They visited the new shops and spoke with the people about the old ones. They saw busy people running to do their duties and children playing, and at some point they walked past a rather loud door, full with cheers, laughter and music.
“Excuse me,” Merlin stopped a flushed lady that came out of the noisy building. “What's the occasion?”
“Oh, it's wonderful!” She started with a big smile. “The tailor's daughter found her soulmate last week, they just split the coin! The whole street was invited for the celebration.”
“That is wonderful, indeed!” Merlin smiled at her.
“Oh, they should be leaving any minute now.”
Just as the woman said, two young women walked out of the door holding hands, with a cheering crowd following after. One of them Merlin recognized as the tailor's daughter, Marigold. The other had auburn curls and crooked teeth, and Merlin had never seen her around before.
They smiled and waved to the crowd, hands always interlocked, and everytime their eyes met, the absolute happiness and overwhelming love they felt for each other was clear for everyone to see.
While everybody watched as the couple left on a horse, Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin.
He saw that the small corner smile he had on when the girls left the building, slowly faded as the horse rode away. His soft, gleaming eyes turned sad, and Arthur recognized the longing in them.
He wondered how many times Merlin would have to watch other people's happy ending, knowing he would never get his.
Arthur brought his hand to Merlin's shoulder in a friendly manner, “that was lovely, but we do have a room filled with old farts to get to.”
That made Merlin smile again, his eyes crinkling “So you admit they are old farts, then.”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
The meeting proceeded as usual, so did the week. Uther's council was still skeptical of Morgana's presence and of Arthur's leadership, postponing his ascension as King for another season — even though Uther continued in his unresponsive state, his mind completely gone from this world.
Then there was Agravaine, who allegedly came to help Arthur, but whom Merlin couldn't really trust. The man seemed to be loyal enough, but too on the fence about most things for Merlin's taste.
Either way, life moved on. Knights trained, servants worked, meetings were had, and public hearings continued to open the court to the people's problems.
It was one of those hearings that brought Prince Arthur, Merlin, and three of Uther's knights on patrol close to the border of Mercia. Rumours of mysterious disappearances and shadow men that came out of nowhere, putting fear on the hearts of the nearby villagers.
Somewhere along the way, between Merlin and Arthur's banter and Uther's Knights' chatting, they found themselves caught in an ambush.
At first they all thought it was a normal bandit attack. Merlin himself even went as far as thinking it as the ‘annoying weekly bandit encounter’ before going to ‘hide to safety’ and start dropping branches on their heads.
One after the other, the knights of Camelot fought their way through the seemingly endless group.
It seemed, though, as if while their numbers got smaller, the bandits’ skill increased. The fight kept getting harder in a way it hadn't been in a long while, but eventually it ended.
Arthur looked around, taking in his men and then the defeated bandits that lay on the ground. He listened for a second, and once he deemed the area safe, sheathed his sword. “Is everyone alright?”
He did a quick once over of his knights, checking them for injuries. When he was satisfied, he turned to where he last saw their horses, hoping they would be close by.
Arthur was mid step when he realized how quiet it was. No rustling of leaves, no loud footsteps, and the worst of all, no complaints followed by a thousand ‘I told you so.’
He turned around, “Merlin, you can come out now.”
The knights stopped what they were doing, and listened. As the seconds passed without an answer, the quietness of the place got louder.
Arthur's heartbeat resonated in his head.
“Merlin!” He marched to where he last saw him hiding, making his way through bushes and thick tree trunks.
Ba-dump
Merlin wasn't there. Instead, Arthur found tracks.
Ba-dump
The tracks showed that someone was dragged away, but there were no signs of struggle, the person didn't seem to have fought their capturers.
Ba-dump
Arthur signed for his knights to follow him, his eyes focused on where the track would lead them.
Ba-dump.
They followed the tracks for a while, until they got to what looked like the entrance of a glade. Arthur signed to his knights again, sending them in opposite directions around the edge of the glade.
He focused on calming his heart while waiting for them to be ready.
Merlin would be alright. Arthur would know if he wasn't.
Once the knights were positioned, Arthur prepared himself before giving the signal for them to move, following the last of the tracks.
Ba-dump
Once they got there, Arthur was astounded with the horrific vision that greeted them at the end of the trail.
Nothing.
Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump
He got closer to where the track ended to make sure — legs marching quickly and feet crunching leaves, — but the trail ended right there in the middle of nowhere. It was like whatever left those dragging marks had completely vanished in thin air.
Ba-dump, Ba-dump, Ba-dump
He went back and forth a few times to be absolutely certain he hadn't missed anything. To make sure he had followed the right track.
“Sire?” His knights waited for orders.
He shouldn't have to order, it should be obvious.
“Find me that dollophead.”
The knights looked at each other in doubt.
“Find him!” Arthur shouted, making the knights nod and move away in separate directions.
Arthur went back to where the trail ended, but the sight was the same. Someone was dragged away to where he stood now by two other people, and then they all vanished. There were no signs of horses or carriages, no more footsteps and no more signs of bodies being dragged.
The only option left was magic, but why would a sorcerer choose to kidnap a servant instead of attack the prince? It didn't make sense.
The trees closed in around him, his chest tightened and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps. The weight of the scene finally sinking in.
Merlin was gone.
Arthur didn't know what had happened to him, and he had no trail left to follow nor any sign that he was still alive.
His breaths seemed to be racing against his heart, both going faster and faster. Arthur dropped to a crouch, squeezed his eyes shut and raked both his hands through his hair, gripping tightly.
°•°§°•°
Merlin woke up cold and in pain. It took him a few minutes to fully come to his senses — his head had a sharp pain and he felt dizzy. His arms hurt from holding his own weight up, and his whole body seemed to weigh twenty times more than what it was supposed to.
He couldn't see anything when he managed to open his eyes; wherever he was didn't have any windows, and no torches were lit.
He was hanging from his wrists.
He felt the bite of the chains on them and straightened up to try to put some of his weight on his feet, even if they barely reached the ground.
Next, Merlin tried to remember what had happened — the weird sluggishness he felt, clouding his mind.
They were attacked and Merlin secretly helped the knights with his magic from behind some trees, as he usually does. Then there was nothing.
Did somebody hit his head from behind? That would explain the ringing in his ear and the pounding in his head. Was that what fallen branches felt like when he made them drop on bandits' heads?
He needed to get out of there and go back to Arthur.
Just when he was about to reach for his magic to try and get out, he heard the familiar sound of a door opening, followed by echoing footsteps.
When the footsteps stopped, a second door opened — this time in front of him, — and the brightness that suddenly flooded the room blinded him for a second, forcing him to close his eyes.
He heard them come in closer and cracked his eyes slightly open.
There were two of them, one walked around the room lighting the wall’s torches with his own. The other made his way straight to Merlin, lifting his torch close to Merlin’s face. “Well, well, look who finally woke up.”
He fought to keep his eyes open — the usually kind caress of torchlight, burning like a thousand suns before Merlin’s eyes.
The man had a scar across his face and was missing a tooth, and Merlin couldn’t escape his sour breath when the man laughed. “When we were told that the closest person to the Regent was his servant, we thought this would be the easiest job we ever took.”
He paced away. The other man stood by the wall next to the door with his arms crossed, he had longer hair that went to his shoulders. Both men were wearing dark clothes, but Hairy had a black cape where Scarface didn't.
“However!” Scarface turned around suddenly, “we were both very surprised to notice that the skinny little weak servant of the prince’s eyes turned gold.
Merlin froze, the scowl he had managed to put on during Scarface’s rambling weakened as the surprise hit his eyes. They had seen him.
He decided to act and reached for his magic to throw them away from him — maybe make them pass out — but his magic didn’t surface, and nothing happened. His head snapped up to where his wrists were chained up, and his eyes goggled.
That the chains were made of cold iron was an educated guess, and an expected one, but what brought true horror to his face was the thinner bracelet below those chains on both his hands. They weren't connected and didn’t seem designed to physically restrain him — the ring wasn’t skin-tight and even slipped down Merlin’s arms. Despite being thinner, they were heavier, and while the chains cut up his wrists raw, the marks carved into the bracelets were the ones that concerned him most.
He felt a chill run down his spine while the laughter from Scarface resonated through the walls. Cold iron — while very effective in neutralizing usual magic users — didn’t completely stop him from using his magic. He would be weaker, but not helpless.
This thing, though. This was different.
“I see you’ve found our toys. Aren’t they pretty? I doubt a peasant like you has ever worn something so fancy before.” Merlin didn’t look at him, he was focused on the carvings. The ringing in his ears got louder, and his head didn’t seem to pound as much when compared to the beating of his heart.
“It was a witch who kindly shared the secret for successfully binding someone's magic, you’d think it’d be common knowledge with how often magic users are hunted down, but to our surprise it turns out most people don’t know anything stronger than the good old cold iron.”
Binding someone's magic. It echoed in Merlin’s head as the man kept talking.
“Good for us, I say. Magic users are surprisingly more open to talk once they realize there’s really nothing they can do.” He laughed again.
Merlin snapped back at him with a scowl on his face, anger suddenly burning through his body. “What do you want?”
“How kind of you to ask, so polite.” He turned his head to his friend, “they are never this polite, are they?”
Hairy didn't answer, he didn’t move at all. In fact, he looked bored by his mate’s talking.
Scar turned back with a smile, “here’s the deal, scrawny, you will tell us what we want to know and my buddy will stay back there, bored out of his mind.”
“And when I don’t?”
Scarface’s eyes gleamed with a dangerous light, his already deformed face twisted with something evil and an interested smirk grew ominously. “Trust me, darling, you don’t want to give him a reason to leave that wall.”
Merlin looked back at Hairy. He was leaning against the wall with his eyes closed and didn't seem to be paying any attention to them.
“Now,” Scarface smiled, “why don't we begin?”
Merlin's cold gaze was still fired by his anger. It wasn't the first time he was kidnapped, he knew the drill. They would ask, he wouldn't answer, and then they would beat him up.
It was nothing he couldn't handle.
Still, the cold of the bracelets made for an eerie reminder that this time, he was really on his own. Not a single spark of magic would rise for his aid, and he wouldn't be able to save himself.
A chill ran down his spine when Scarface stepped closer.
°•°§°•°
The knights of Camelot rode after their Prince with quick strides. They had looked for Merlin throughout the night and part of the morning before the prince decided they needed backup. Their horses galloped through the gates of Camelot’s castle bringing with them an overwhelming sense of urgency.
Leon rushed to Arthur’s side before the man’s feet had the chance to hit the ground. “Sire?”
“Gather the knights in the war room,” Arthur didn’t stop, marching quickly through the courtyard straight to the castle’s doors. “We are separating into groups, our goal is to cover the largest amount of land in the quickest time.”
“What is going on, Sire?”
“Merlin is gone!” Arthur said, not looking back and not stopping, and that was all Leon needed to know before turning away, ready to gather as many knights as he could find.
Before the hour was over, the war room was filled and ready for action. Unfortunately, the plans were being delayed by Uther’s council who protested against the amount of knights the prince wanted to send for one servant.
“Unacceptable! The amount of resources, and time!” Said one of them.
“Not to mention the way this would weaken our defenses.” Another nodded in agreement.
“King Uther would never…” A third one started, but was interrupted by Arthur himself. “My father is not here to make a decision.”
He met the eyes of each lord with a stern gaze, before continuing:
“We will send search parties for Merlin. That is not up for debate and trying to change my mind about this will only be a waste of everyone's time.”
Arthur rose to his feet and leaned on the table, his eyes fixed on the map spread before him. “Whoever — or whatever — took Merlin must be tied to the disappearances along Mercia's borders. That was why we went there in the first place. I’m sure that finding him will uncover the truth behind those events and allow us to put an end to the threat once and for all.”
When no more protests came forth, he continued:
“The parties will be separated into the usual groups of five and six,” Arthur started to separate them, pointing on the map where each group should go. Elyan, Percival, Leon and Gwaine were each assigned party leaders and a region where they should start.
Before he could assign Lancelot his region, Gwaine asked: “What about Mercia itself, sire? If he disappeared near the border there's a chance he’s no longer in Camelot.”
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, “I plan to lead a party through Mercia myself.”
The room exploded in a cacophony of voices, the lords rising to their feet to loudly protest their disagreement. There were so many complaints that Arthur couldn't really make out what exactly they were, though he had a good idea.
“Sire, if I may.” Agravaine stepped closer, and when Arthur nodded the room quieted to hear him.“Perhaps our lordships would feel more at ease if they knew Camelot’s Regent and only legitimate heir to the throne, was staying safely inside the castle's walls.”
He paced around the room, meeting the lord’s eyes and gesturing to their direction slightly. “We are all, of course, deeply concerned with Merlin’s well being and want him home as quickly as possible. But since Your Highness is already assigning so many of our bravest knights to this noble quest, perhaps it would be for the best to stay behind and wait for your men to report back with their findings.”
The lords behind Agravaine started to nod their agreement.
“Not to mention, Sire,” he continued. “The implications of going over the border yourself without notice.”
Arthur felt trapped, he wanted to go himself — it wasn't that he didn't trusted his men, he had trained them himself, but Merlin was his responsibility, his problem, his friend, his — but with the many protests and arguments that he couldn't rebut properly, he found he didn't have a choice but stay behind.
"Very well then, Lancelot shall lead a party through Mercia's border from their side. I'll stay behind and make sure King Bayard is properly informed of the situation.
Another round of murmured protests came from the Lords, but none dared to push their luck any further by speaking up, their prince would stay behind and they knew that was the only change of plans Arthur would allow.
"You are all dismissed." Arthur said to the rest of his court, before addressing his knights "I wish you all good luck, and I hope to hear from each of you soon enough."
He looked each of them in the eye, and found nothing but unwavering determination. "bring Merlin home."
And with this final words, the knights took off hurriedly, their steps echoing through the walls as they made their way to the courtyard. Their friend was missing, and every single one of them was willing to stay in the forest until they got him back.
°•°§°•°
Merlin didn't know how long he had been in that room.
He had been starved, beaten, nearly drowned, and he was sure he had something broken somewhere. Without the aid of his magic to soften the blows, the pain he had been put through so far had been ten times worse then what it usually was when he did have his magic.
If he were a weaker man, he know he would've cracked by now.
He heard the echoing footsteps that signified his captors approach and mentally prepared himself for another round.
Scarface came in, slamming the door strong enough to make it hit the wall — he liked to make a big entrance everytime, and if the sound of it hitting the wall worsen Merlin's headache, well, that was a bonus.
"Good morning, darling!" He came towards Merlin with excited steps, and posted himself right on Merlin's face, grabbing it with his dirty hands.
"I'm very disappointed in you, darling. I thought we had something between us, especially after all this time we spend together." He mocked being sad, before giving a full belly laugh. He did that a lot.
"But, it has become clear to us that you're not much of a chatter-mouth, unfortunately." He pouted. "That's why, darling, I'm sad to inform that our time together has come to an end."
Merlin froze, panic rising through his chest.
"Oh, don't worry, we'll still see each other. I wouldn't want to miss the show, now, would I?" He laughed again.
Just then, Merlin noticed Hairy moving around the room on the background. That raised more alarms to his head. Hairy had, so far, stick to his spot on the wall. Merlin couldn't see what exactly he was doing — Scarface seemed to be purposefully blocking his view — but the fact that he was actually inside the room at all and not just standing by the door, was concerning enough.
"Most people would say that I'm the good guy, you know?" Scarface brought his attention back to him, his voice was quieter than it had ever been. "Don't get me wrong, I do like the bit that I do. It's interesting work, but honestly? Watching my friend there do his thing is quite entertaining, he's almost an artist."
He glanced back and Merlin saw Hairy approaching. "You should have answered my questions, boy." Was the last thing Scarface said before Hairy reached them. He took a step back so they could stand side by side, both staring at Merlin.
He still couldn't see why Hairy was walking around the room — both him and Scarface blocked his vision of the room like a human wall — and the uncertainty of what would happen made him anxious.
"How do you want to start?" Scarface asked Hairy.
Suddenly, Hairy pulled a dagger out of nowhere and aimed it in Merlin's direction, his hand moving quickly.
Merlin braced himself for the pain of being stabbed, closing his eyes tightly.
He didn't have to, though, instead of pain he was suddenly hit by cold air that made goosebumps run across his body. He kept his eyes closed still, waiting for what was next on Hairy's agenda now that he had his chest bare and at their mercy.
"Now what do we have here? You are full of surprises, aren't you, darling?" Scarface said before — once again — laughing loudly.
Merlin opened his eyes and looked at them with confusion. Why had they stopped?
He kept looking from one to the other, looking for the answer. It wasn't until he paid closer attention to Hairy that he figured it out. Hairy had frozen in place, dagger still in his hands, and eyes staring at the same spot on Merlin's torso.
He felt his body go tense as realization struck him like a sudden slap. He didn't need to look down to know what they were seeing, and why they had stopped. And if he hadn't figured out by himself, Scarface would have clarified things when he excitedly asked: "But why didn't you tell us you were soulmates with the prince? Now, this changes things!"
He flung an arm around Hairy's shoulder, a sick smile on his face. "What do you think?"
Hairy stared at his soulmark a while longer before snapping his eyes to meet Merlin's. And if Scarface's smiles creeped him out, it was nothing compared to how Hairy's made him feel.
With the wicked grin still on his face, Hairy raised his dagger once more. Merlin tried to struggle away, but was held tightly in place by scarface. It didn't matter much, after so many days locked inside that place, Merlin didn't really had any strength left to physically fight them back.
The last thing Merlin remembered before passing out, were the coldness of the knife when it first touched the skin near his soulmark and the distant sound of someone screaming in pain.
°•°§°•°
Arthur paced around his room, constantly running a hand through his hair. A month.
Merlin had been gone for a month and still there were no news about him or any leads of where he could have been taken to.
"Check again."
Morgana sat at Arthur's table with a bowl of water. Everyday since Merlin's disappearance Arthur would knock on her door and ask her to try to find him with magic. "I've checked three times, Arthur, and the result is always the same. Wherever he is, my magic can't reach him."
"He's not dead, Morgana! I would know if he was, I would feel it."
"Nobody said that he was."
"They didn't have to! You think I don't known? Everybody thinks he's dead by now, that I'm crazy for wasting resources on a lunatic quest for a corpse they won't even find!" Arthur kept pacing.
"Arthur!" She placed herself in his way, resting her hands on his shoulders and trying to calm him with her eyes. "We are not going to give up on him, alright? Me, Gwen, our knights, we are all worried and we won't stop looking until we figure it out where he is , and when we do we will bring him home. Alive."
Arthur untangled himself from Morgana's grip and sagged down on his chair, face hidden in his hands. "It's my fault," he whispered, "I shouldn't have left him alone."
Morgana watched the messy state of her brother. While in court, Arthur presented himself as the proper Regent the lords expected him to be, but once he was around his friends — not that he knew they were his friends — Arthur's facade crumbled, and they could all see the worry and fear he felt for Merlin.
Day after day, his knights sent him reports about their findings — or rather, the lack of them — and Morgana watched the hope slowly disappear from his face everytime a new parchment came back with nothing new to report.
"It's not your fault, your idiot." She sat on the chair next to him. "If you want to blame anyone about this, you should blame me. I'm the seer, remember? I should have seen that it would happen."
"You aren't the one who kidnapped him, Morgana, of course it's not your fault." He lifted his face to reassure her.
Morgana had a small smile and looked at him like he had just stated the obvious.
When Arthur realized why, he frowned. "That's different, I was there."
"It's not, Arthur. You've been attacked a million times before and Merlin knows how to take care of himself on ambushes. It was unfortunate, but it wasn't your fault."
Arthur looked a her with tiredness in his eyes, "I'm glad we could put our differences behind us, Morgana," he smiled to her before pressing his fingers against his eyes, "I don't know what I would have done without your help."
"Probably stumble around the castle like a headless chicken." She smirked.
Arthur was startled by the sudden laugh that came out of him. "Yeah, probably."
The whole blood-related thing with magic on the side had been a mess, they fought a lot at the beginning until Morgana realized that Arthur wasn't like Uther. Still, even with Arthur's secret support of her magic and the promise of a safer Camelot in the future, their relationship hadn't been quite stable.
If this whole thing ended in tragedy — it wouldn't. He knew it wouldn't — then at least he was glad he would come out of it with a sister he was close with.
They were suddenly interrupted by loud knocks on his door, Arthur had barely managed to recompose himself before George barged in. "Sire!"
"George? what is going on?" Arthur jumped from his seat and reached for his sword, adrenaline suddenly pumping in his veins.
"It was the strangest thing, my lord." George was out of breath and dishevelled, sweat clung to his forehead and he spoke hurriedly, barely comprehensively. "The boy came out of nowhere, then I tried to see where he would go, I did! But he was just gone!"
"Hold on, George I can barely understand. A boy?"
"He had a message. A message for you, my lord. Said it was urgent."
Just then he notice the package in George's hand. He reached for it and while Morgana tried to calm the man down he inspected it.
It wasn't much anything, just a simple leather bag that could have belonged to anyone. He opened it up and inside he found a parchment and some type of fur or animal skin rolled up to fit inside the bag.
He went for the parchment first, if they went through all this trouble to send him a message, then he would hear it.
To his royal Highness, Prince Regent Arthur Pendragon of Camelot I believe this belongs to you.
Arthur frowned to the paper and looked back inside the bag. He hadn't lost any animal fur, he hadn't even had time for hunts since he became the regent.
Reaching inside the bag with a frown, Arthur retrieved the animal fur from it and tried to see if there was anything special to it. It seemed normal enough, the skin had been rolled up like a sleeping bag and holding it closed was a small belt. He reached for the buckle and opened it, letting the fur unravel towards the ground.
When the fur unfolded, he heard the sound of something else hitting the ground. He looked down and saw what it appeared to be a piece of leather, or maybe more animal skin.
He placed the animal fur on the back of his chair and crouched down to pick up whatever it was. His eyebrows furred and his nose scrunched up while he examined the weird thing. It did look like leather, but it felt wrong on the hand and the colour didn't seem right. He stood up still examining it, confused on what it could be.
He flipped it over to look at the other side.
'Arthur Pendragon'
His breathing suddenly hitched, his heart beat faster in his chest and goosebumps run across his entire body, raising the hairs from his arms and nape. He stumbled back, managing to take three steps before he hit the table and toppled it over to the ground with him.
"Arthur!?" Morgana ran to his side.
Arthur felt nauseated, he kept his eyes at the black swirly curls hoping they would disappear, that it was a lie. He heard Morgana gasp once she saw what he had in his hands.
His eyes met hers, they were wide open and teared, his face was pale, and a whirlwind of emotions fought for control. "Tell me it's fake," he begged.
Morgana wasn't faring much better, shock froze her in place. "Tell me it's fake!" Arthur screamed, shaking her back to life. She dropped down to her knees next to where Arthur had fallen and gently hovered her hands over the words. With her eyes closed she reached for them with her magic.
When she opened them again, tears ran down her face and she met Arthur's eyes with an apologetic look. "It's real."
Arthur broke eye contact and hunched over it, "leave me."
"Arthur…"
"Leave me!"
Morgana hesitated, but decided to do his bidding. She stood up, and noticed that George was still in the room, his face paler than Arthur's nightclothes. She signed for him to follow and together they left Arthur's chambers, worried about their prince's reaction.
Arthur stayed on the ground, thick tears fell down his face and he sobbed over his soulmate's skin. Losing Merlin had taken it's toll on him, leaving him emotionally unstable as he fought to ignore his feelings and focus on his kingdom and on planning the next strategy to find him; now, beside losing Merlin, someone had found his soulmate and hurt them.
He tried to focus his vision through the blurring tears, his eyes going over the fancy loops that formed his soulmate's mark. His name. His stupid name that had gotten them kidnapped and hurt.
His eyes began to dry as sudden rage filled his heart. Someone out there had found his soulmate and decided to use them to reach him. His head snapped back to where he has left the note, heart pumping his anger through his body, giving him purpose.
When he reached the note, he was surprised to see new words appearing on the parchment. They asked for a ransom and provided a location and time, as well as instructions that Arthur wouldn't bother to follow.
He marched out of his chambers, straight to the war room. He needed to strategize and he needed maps. He would also need his knights.
The realization almost made him stop on his track. Sirs Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan and Percival were, of course, looking for Merlin. But if he was to go after his soulmate —because this time he would go, not going after Merlin had almost killed him, he wouldn't be stopped a second time — he would need people he trusted.
Arthur mulled over the last reports he received in his head. He knew Leon would be back by tomorrow — originally to restock and regroup before leaving once more — and Elyan and Percival were closer by than the others.
Once he reached the war room he went straight to the map, leaning over it. He would have to be careful. And no matter what, he would not stop the search for Merlin. Soulmate or not, Merlin was still a priority.
He focused on the map and on the information he had so far, and started to work on a plan.
°•°§°•°
Merlin kept going in and out of consciousness, the pain he felt was too much to bare, every second he spent awake was painfully torturous and he would pass out before he could be aware of his surroundings.
He didn't see his captors again, or at least not that he noticed. Darkness seemed to surround him in every direction and he couldn't tell the difference between reality and delusion anymore.
His mind spiralled with images both from his friends and from his captors. Gwen's smile turned into Scarface's laugh which echoed for painful instants before changing into Gwaine's. He heard Leon's voice saying his name and saw Elyan and Percival standing in front of him before their figures morphed into Hairy and Scarface.
He felt Arthur's arms around him. That one he knew was an illusion, just his mind giving him something good to hang on to. He didn't care. He let his mind wrap him up in Arthur's warmth and begged for the gods that they would let him stay there. And if he were to die, to let him die in the illusion of having Arthur's arms hugging him and lulling him to sleep.
Arthur's arms didn't stay, though. After what it seemed both forever and mere seconds, he felt them letting go of him, and he felt cold.
Suddenly a new feeling emerged from somewhere withing himself, overflowing him with familiar warmth that he hadn't felt in a long while. It spread through him like a raging sea, reaching for every corner of his body and mind, not settling until it had consumed him entirely. He revelled at the feeling.
He felt himself waddle through the fog of his mind, following the sound of muttered words that he couldn't really hear.
It was like he was under a thick blanket, the thickest he has ever seen, and couldn't really get out from under it.
He kept trying, though. He pushed and pushed and pushed until he finally could get through.
He was blinded by sudden light and his heart beat faster.
Light.
How long had he stayed in the darkness that just the small hint of light brought tears to his eyes?
"Merlin? Are you awake, my boy?"
°•°§°•°
It took Merlin a week to wake up.
A week since Arthur left the castle to find his soulmate, only to find Merlin in their place.
Merlin who hanged from his wrists covered in wounds and dried blood, passed out cold.
Arthur thought he was dead when he first saw him. He ran to his side and took him down into his arms, frantically looking for his pulse. When he found it — weak but still beating — he cradled his face and cried over him, filled with relief, concern and guilt. It wasn't until Leon entered the room, surprised to see Merlin on his arms, that Arthur remembered he was supposed to be there for his soulmate.
He spent the ride home — quick gallops flying with the wind, trying to reach Gaius as fast as possible — trying to figure out what had happened.
Only after he was alone in his room — Gaius tossing him out from his tower — that he remembered that Merlin had already told him.
'I'm not a match with my soulmate.'
Arthur felt his knees weaken and his breath caught in his throat as the conversation from that night flooded his brain.
'I could never make them choose.'
'If I have to watch them be happy from a distance then that's what I'm going to do, all it matters to me is that they are happy.'
'I'm not going to say it doesn't hurt, because it does.'
'I love my soulmate, Arthur'
'I love my soulmate. Arthur.'
'I love you'
Arthur didn't sleep that night and spend the week waiting for Merlin to wake up. He needed an explanation. He needed to know why.
He gave Merlin an extra day to rest before going to see him. He had every intention to let him talk, to be calm and try to comprehend.
He entered Merlin's chambers and for a second he forgot about the whole thing.
His heart swelled at the sight of his smile. He still looked weak, but much better than he had been before. Arthur took a step in, wanting to hug him, to be next to him, to call him an idiot for have worried him so much. To cry in relief that he was awake and alive.
Then his eyes fell to Merlin's shoulder, where his name was peaking out off the bandages, and he felt himself tense up.
Soulmarks couldn't be erased, even if someone tried to remove them —like those monsters did to Merlin — they would eventually show up someplace else.
Merlin looked confused for a second before following his gaze and tensing up himself. He didn't look back up. They stayed in silence for long minutes, Arthur staring at him and Merlin looking down at his hands, unwilling to speak up.
"Say something, Merlin"
Merlin shrugged, "there's nothing much to say."
Arthur felt a sharp pain through his heart, Merlin's dismissal clashed against his already messed up feelings and he felt sudden anger start to bloom.
"How can you say that? Nothing much to say?"
"It's not important."
"Not..? I had the right to know!"
"And I had the right to not tell you!" Merlin's head sprang up, his voice raising to match Arthur's.
They snapped at each other.
"God dammit, Merlin! You didn't give me a choice, I had the right to choose and you took that away from me!"
"The right to choose? And what choice would that have been, Arthur? Are you saying you could've just let go of your soulmate? Forsaken that name you spent your whole bloody life thinking about?" Merlin shook his head "And for what? For the clumsy idiot of a servant that you barely ever have the balls to call friend?"
That was a low blow, Merlin knew that, and despite Arthur's hardest efforts to hide, Merlin could see its effect showing in his eyes.
He continued his desperate rant, not giving Arthur any chances to talk.
"What would happen later, then? When your actual soulmate shows up on your doorstep? Was I supposed to just pretend to not be hurt? Should I thank you for the time you gave me, for the generous, generous act of staying with me while you waited for your true match to show up?"
He spat the words with a sarcastic tone.
"I wouldn't have gone back on my word if..."
"I don't want your fucking word, Arthur!" He screamed, interrupting.
Arthur surrendered himself to his hurt, he felt hot anger burning through his body and he lashed out, blinded by rage he didn't know he had.
"What do you want, then, Merlin?!? A marriage proposal?! Should I shower you with expensive gifts, crawl on my knees and beg you to wed me?"
Those could have been warm, intense and passionate words, a confession even, but the sarcasm and the anger that dripped from every word, revealed the poisonous malice in them.
Arthur's sky-blue eyes were so dark with anger that they almost seemed black.
"Is that what you want? For me to beg? Should I make it public, then? Give you and Camelot the whole spectacle of having me before you on my knees!"
Merlin's heart crumbled, he felt the fight leave his body and a sudden cold that began in his stomach went through him like lightning. He was exhausted and hurt, he had been for weeks, but somehow he hadn't felt defeated.
Scarface and Hairy might have gotten to his body, maybe a little to his mind, but Merlin still had his spirit, his heart. No matter what, that part of him still shone bright and alive, always able to get him through the ugliest of the storms. Until now.
Merlin sagged down looking back at his hands, and with teary eyes, he gave up.
"Let it go, Arthur."
"You can't just expect me.."
His head snapped back at Arthur, anger growing in his chest.
"I'm not expecting shit. That was the cruellest fucking thing you ever said to me.”
Thick tears went down his face, he didn't care.
Arthur felt like he was suddenly slapped. The anger he felt had blinded him and he spoke without thinking, forgetting who he was talking to. His heart crushed at the realization of what he had said and how he had said it. He wanted to take it back, but didn't know how.
"I never wanted you to give up anything; never wanted any promises that I knew you couldn't keep." Merlin started.
He had never looked at Arthur like that, not even on those first days at Camelot, when he thought he hated Arthur. His eyes were hurt, angry, and cold.
"You're going to walk out of this room and forget you know anything about my soulmark. You will pretend nothing happened and we won't ever talk about this again." He spoke in a whispered tone; his voice was raspy but firm, despite the lump in his throat
Arthur's mouth was shut tightly, a small twitch could be seen on his jaw. He was still angry, but the guilt and regret he felt kept him from lashing out again.
Merlin's eyes weren't as dark as before, but they were intense and the tears still rained down his cheeks as he spoke.
"Now get the fuck out of my chambers."
Arthur stared at Merlin's eyes for a while longer before turning around, opening Merlin's door, and walking away, slamming the door with all his frustration and anger.
He walked past Gaius, who was pretending to not have heard the discussion, and marched out of the physician's tower without looking back.
He walked through the hallways blinded by rage, frustration and guilt; servants and guards quickly got out of his way as he passed, noticing the storm that followed him.
He entered his chambers and slammed his door as well, walking straight to his desk. He rested both his hands on the back of his chair and leaned there for a while, his knuckles turning white with the strength of his grip.
He felt wetness on his face and a burning pain on his heart.
The chair flew through the room and hit a wall, where it broke in three separate parts, an agonizing scream following its demise.
Arthur paced and threw things, his vision blurred, and when he couldn't walk anymore he fell to the floor, leaning against his bed.
He brought his knees closer to his chest where he rested his elbows, and buried his face in his hands. One single word danced around his head.
Why?
It was so unfair.
He felt weak, so tired of this month and everything that had happened. Hating himself for what he had said.
After a while, anger started to resurface: anger about Merlin, who had lied and given him no choice; anger about himself, who had hurt Merlin; anger about the people who had kidnapped him and started this whole mess; but most of all, anger about the Fates, who had denied him the chance to match with his best friend.
He jumped up, grabbed his sword, and marched down to the training grounds.
°•°§°•°
The days passed with Merlin still bedridden. The aftereffects of the magic-binding bracelets made his magic weak and unstable, unable to help him heal as fast as it usually would.
Arthur didn't come back to visit, and Merlin didn't know how he felt about it. He was still hurt and somewhat angry, but he couldn't help but miss his Prince.
When the day came where Merlin could, at last, return to his duties as Arthur’s servant, he hadn’t seen him in over two weeks. Time seemed to slow down as he entered the prince’s chambers. Arthur was already dressed and sat at his desk, reading over some papers.
Merlin saw Arthur’s shoulders tense right as he entered. Neither of them said anything, and Merlin proceeded to do his tasks feeling the heaviness of the room.
Arthur didn’t look at him, didn’t give him any absurd chores, didn’t ask for his help or his advice with any of his documents. When Merlin had to help him put on his armour, he did so with the utmost care not to touch him, not to meet his eyes.
Merlin cried himself to sleep that night, quietly sobbing on his pillow the ache off his heart.
The days went by once more, Merlin no longer followed Arthur everywhere. He polished his armour and sharpened his sword in the armoury; he folded and mended his clothes in the laundry room; he cleaned Arthur’s chambers when he was busy with either knight’s training or council meetings, which Merlin no longer took part in.
He only saw Arthur in the mornings when he had to wake him up — always on time and with a polite knock on the door — when he had to bring his meals — still hot and untouched — or when he had to prepare his baths and dress him up — careful not to touch him more than necessary.
Merlin had become the perfect servant, he didn’t speak unless spoken to — and on the extremely rare occasions where he did, it was always with the appropriate title — he didn’t make eye contact, and bowed to the Prince Regent both in acknowledgement and before leaving his presence. He had successfully become part of the decoration, invisible to everyone unless needed, as a servant was supposed to.
He had never been so miserable in his life.
The pain he felt had long subsided into something less, but somehow mutated into something more. He was just so tired. Longing had shifted into mourning, and the dull ache he felt — that weird mix of nothingness and heaviness that clung into him, making him wish he could just lay there on his bed forever — had become his most loyal companion.
His magic was inconsolable, it still longed for Arthur’s presence every single day, sneakily it tried to reach him, to just for a second revel in the warm light that was Arthur. Having to reel it in every day before it did something stupid, was one of the hardest things Merlin had to do, especially when he wanted to do the same thing himself.
His friends had tried to help, they really did. But there was nothing they could say to help, not really.
The one month mark came and went by, and if Merlin had had any hopes that they could still talk this off, he couldn't find it anymore. He hadn’t reached out to Arthur, at first out of anger, then out of hurt. Now he simply hadn’t the strength anymore. And if Arthur wanted to fix things, he would have said, or more likely, done something — something stupid, and with all the tact of someone with zero emotional intelligence — by now.
Arthur didn’t want to fix things.
He had once learned how to be content with the idea of not being Arthur’s soulmate. Now, he simply had to learn to accept he would never be nothing more than a bystander, watching as his heart lived his own life away from him.
He had to relearn how to live without Arthur.
With his mind made up, he walked from his chambers to Arthur’s in a daze. It seemed like he had just left the physician’s tower when he found himself facing the prince’s door, a fist raised up, ready to knock just like he had been doing these past weeks.
He stared at his fist and was suddenly overwhelmed with his feelings. His ears started to ring, tears surged in his eyes and he felt breathless, panting more as the ringing seemed to grow louder.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to push his feelings as well as the traitorous tears, back down to where they should have stayed. He stayed there for a long while, breathing and just listening to his heartbeat calming him down.
Once he opened his eyes again, he felt more himself then he had in goddess knows how long. He felt resolute, and calm. His heart ached still, but that had been there since before the ambush.
With a certainty he hadn’t had in a while, he reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open without knocking.
Arthur sat at his desk going over some documents. Merlin noticed how his shoulders tensed upon hearing him walk in, and he turned his head slightly to the right, looking in Merlin’s direction with a brief side glance before facing forward again.
“My lord,” Merlin started and he watched as Arthur stopped moving completely, his back tensing even more. Merlin understood, he hadn’t started an interaction with Arthur in who knows how long. “I have received news from Ealdor.”
That made Arthur turn and face Merlin. And for the first time in what it felt like forever, Merlin met Arthur’s sky-blue eyes — the ones that he loved with all his might — with his own, and stayed there, planning on maintaining eye contact the whole time he spoke.
Arthur’s eyes were guarded, but Merlin knew him — by the gods, did Merlin know him — and was relieved when he didn’t find any anger there. The only thing he saw was mild concern.
Merlin’s heart beat on his chest, alive once more. Arthur’s gaze, testing his decision.
“Good news.” He said, intended to reassure the prince, but just like that — after a small glimpse of relief crossed his eyes — Arthur shut himself up and presented his court face. His emotions now secure away from Merlin’s eyes.
“Apparently Ealdor has been graced with what is looking like a very fortunate season, crops have reportedly grown in such abundance as not seen in decades.” Merlin didn’t leave his place by the door. Arthur’s eyes watched him, waiting.
“With blessing of this nature, the village has come together to seek help with this next harvest season.” Understanding gleamed in Arthur’s eyes, but he remained silent, waiting for Merlin’s request that he knew was coming.
“If it would be agreeable with your highness, I would like to formally request permission to—” He cut himself short, it felt wrong, the formality in which he spoke — even if that’s what he had been doing lately. He cleared his throat trying to restart. He didn’t have to, though.
“You want to go home.” Arthur spoke — for the first time since their fight, something that wasn’t an order.
“Yes.”
“To help with the harvest season.”
Merlin’s eyes flickered away and back for a second. “That’s the plan, yes.”
Arthur nodded and looked away himself. “You have my permission, Merlin.”
For a moment there, Merlin thought he sounded resigned. He dismissed it as wishful thinking.
“Harvest is upon us, I assume you will be leaving soon.” He turned away, going back to his papers. “Take as many provisions as you deem necessary.”
Merlin nodded to Arthur’s back, grieving the loss of eye contact. “I will be leaving as soon as I finish packing, if that’s alright with you.
Arthur grunted his agreement and added: “take one of the knights with you.”
Surprise surged in Merlin’s face. “I don’t—”
“That’s the condition if you want to go”
Merlin lowered his head — was Arthur… concerned about him? — before shaking his thoughts away. “As you wish, my lord.”
He waited a few seconds. A heartbeat, two, when it was clear they were both done with talking, he prepared himself to leave the room. “By your leave?”
Once again Arthur turned his head slightly to the right, and without looking at him, nodded his dismissal.
He turned around and reached for the doorknob, he stopped. This moment felt final, and he realized that once he walked through that door, he wouldn’t be seeing Arthur again. At least, not for a long while.
He felt his magic protesting again, wanting to go to Arthur. Merlin couldn’t deny it a goodbye, so he let it free.
Slowly it floated towards the prince, hesitantly, as if it was scared to do something wrong. Once it reached him, though, it embraced Arthur completely, softly caressing his skin.
Merlin had never hugged Arthur himself, but if it was anything like what he felt through his magic, he lamented the fact.
“Goodbye, Arthur.” Merlin whispered to the room, and he saw when Arthur stopped moving.
His magic retreated, and just when Merlin was about to leave, Arthur turned around again.
His eyes were soft and he carried an hesitant, sad, smile. “Send Hunith my regards.”
They nodded to each other.
Seconds passed, and when Merlin couldn’t bear to stay there any longer, he turned away, closing the door behind him with a quiet shut.
Within the hour, two horses could be seen leaving the gates of Camelot.
Merlin rode away without looking back, with unshed tears in his eyes and a heaviness in his heart that weighed him down completely, burying with each step his last hopes of recovering the bond he used to have with Arthur.
He made his way home, not knowing what his future would look like. He knew Arthur would still need him in Camelot — the prophecy that bound them together still had to be fulfilled — but for the first time in a long while, he didn’t know what his role would be.
All he knew was that he had lost, permanently, the trust and friendship of the only man he would ever be able to love with every drop of his being.
He hoped that with time, the pain that crushed his heart would be bearable enough, and that his heart would learn to accept that he and Arthur were simply not meant to be close in any way known to men.
°•°§°•°
Leaning against the wall, Arthur watched from his window as Merlin rode away, Lancelot following him close by.
He noticed Merlin didn't spare a single glance to the place he had called home for so many years — he didn't blame him.
He stayed there, following Merlin with his eyes as he disappeared into the horizon — his heart wearing thinner and thinner as Merlin inched away from him — until long after he had disappeared from his sight.
He had done the right thing. He must have.
The past weeks had been the hardest of his entire life. He had never been so miserable; never had a task so arduously difficult as this one. Watching Merlin distance himself, seeing him slip through his fingers straight into the role of a simple servant, as if he was just another passerby in Arthur's life. It had been too much for him to bear.
He stared blankly at the place Merlin had disappeared, lost in his thoughts.
He cursed the Fates for the choices they had made. If Merlin wasn't meant to be his soulmate, then why make him Merlin's? Why make Merlin the most important person in his life, but not THE most important person in his life?
If he wasn't supposed to love Merlin back, then why did his heart seem to wear thin when he vanished beyond the horizon?
A part of him hoped Merlin would come back, that he would scream at him, curse him, call him names once more. It was a foolish wish, a selfish wanting that he had bravely fought against, and won.
The prize for his battle had been Merlin's freedom.
Arthur knew he had hurt Merlin — he had destroyed their friendship and crushed any chance of it ever being something else. But he hoped that with that, with the absolute certainty that Arthur didn't want him, Merlin would move on. Maybe someday Arthur would hear whispers about how an old servant — the one that used to follow the prince around — had just had his third child, with his lovely wife whom he loved so dearly and who loved him back.
Time passed, the room grew colder, and after the sun had set and the moon shone through the night sky, he was snatched away from his daze by the sound of knocks on his door. George's familiar voice came through, reminding him that, even though it shouldn't, the world kept moving on with or without Merlin's presence.
He tried to shake away the gruesome realization that he had purposefully lost not only his best friend, but the only person Arthur had learned to love. If it was in a romantic way or not, it didn't matter anymore. And if the Fates were to be trusted, it never did.
Princes didn't cry, it simply wasn't done. But if his fingers brushed his skin to wipe away sudden wetness, no one would be the wiser.
"Come in." He said to the door, and turned away from his window, trying to continue his life as if nothing important was missing.
End of Act.II
Hello everyone! (waves from behind a safety wall) I'm sorry it took so long to update this, work got really busy this past month but I'm officially on vacation! (yay!) I want to thank everybody for the love I got on Act.I, I know I didn't answer any comments but I hope you know how much every note I got there meant to me. You guys got me through this month. Thank you with all my heart.💖 Also, I think I should say: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone! I spend the past two days trying to finish this in time for the 24th but wasn't fast enough. The 25th will do, though. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that it could make you happy ☺️ (Smiles in Alex Vlahos' Mordredmas) And I'm sorry this post was so big, I don't know how that happened. (it's 11k words, guys) I left out so much background plot that was trying to sneak in — if you see something you think seems random it's because I had to get rid of plot or I wouldn't finish this ever — but even with all my getting rid of things it still ended up this big. I feel weird making it just the one post but the original idea was that all of this happened on Act II so I'm keeping it like that. I still have some figuring out to do for Act III, but I'm already writing it. I do want to try to finish it this year, but since I have never finished any story that I wrote in my life, I will give myself time to do it without pressure. So no promises as to when I'll be posting it. I will post it, though, and happy ending is still a promise. If you'd like to be added or removed from my "people to tag" list, please let me know ( I hate assuming, makes my anxiety go wild) Quick and usual reminder that english is not my first language, and that I barely edited this at all, so forgive me for any mistakes and weird formatting. I hope you guys have a great season and fantastic new year. Don't forget to keep warm if you are somewhere cold, to drink lots of water, and remember to take your medicine if you have any. 💜
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hxlxnaaa · 3 days ago
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can i pretty please have the extended version of what happens in zaynes exclusive tutorial……. asking for a friend……..
ⁱ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ….
𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥
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★ synopsis: an extended version of zaynes exclusive tutorial 5-star ;)
★ character: zayne
★ cw: first person pov, quickie SMUT!!!!, a lot of the dialogue is just taken from the card
★ word count: 3.5k
★ a/n: i literally have not wrote smut since i was at least 13...i lowkey blacked out writing this so if it sucks i'm so sorry. it was good practice though so ty for the request!
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Internally, I was dreading this. As a Deepspace Hunter, low-key yet high end, relaxed events were not something I was accustomed to. While it was a nice change from the chaotic atmosphere of my own work, I couldn’t help but worry I may embarrass myself.
When Zayne first invited me, I was a bit surprised he’d ask me of all people. I was sure the man was convinced I’d, at some point during the night, make a fool of him and myself. Though I was pleased he thought of me, and honored to be chosen, it put the stakes of the night higher.
I tried to make myself as fancy as possible, without overdoing it, because I was convinced these people would know I was trying too hard. I mean, they were all top med school alumnus who probably made more in a day than I made in a year.
Walking in with Zayne, the club lighting was low with soft jazz playing in the background. I scanned the perimeter, and observed the people around. Nearly everyone had brought a companion, and I smirked to myself. Mentioning I could tell why he brought me along, I gestured for him to lean down to my level.
“Did you feel left out because everyone else brought someone? Is that why?”
Zayne looked back at me, “Yes. It’s why I invited you.”
“Lame… I thought you’d make up an excuse and deny it.
Bantering with him for a second, one of his classmates approached us. The two make small talk with each other, when the man finally introduces himself as Steven to me, reaching out for a handshake. Before I can even respond, Zayne quickly grabs my hand instead.
“Let’s find a place to sit down and talk.”
-
Sitting at the bar with Zayne and his classmates, I get to finally turn off my brain and just listen. All of them go on and boast about him, Steven particularly going on about his pool skills. Zayne sits comfortably with the attention, and it’s safe to assume he’s well accustomed to being the center of it all; though it didn’t last when I quickly caught his eye, as he gave me a helpless look.
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” He whispered to me, an edge to his voice that was practically begging me to get him out and away from these people.
Zayne grabs his drink, assuming I was going to agree, and I stop him. He gives me a confused look as I turn my body to fully face him. Deciding to have some fun, the drinks I’ve had giving me some liquid courage-
“I haven’t seen Dr. Zayne play pool either… Is he really that good?” I smiled at him.
He pauses, lips forming into a tight line, “Ah, so you’re ganging up on me.”
I was pushing the right buttons.
While another classmate comes up to Zayne, doting all over him like the others, as he goes on about “hands on learning” with him.
I smirk inwardly, taking a sip out of my wine glass. Oh yeah, I thought to myself, I’m gonna use that one.
After the man leaves, Zayne playfully pinches my ear, “I could see you eavesdropping from a mile away, did you find anything interesting?”
I looked up at him through my eyelashes, “I heard…” Pretending to think for a second, I looked around the room, then back at him, “you’re incredibly considerate to your juniors and are highly respected by everyone, Dr. Zayne”
He sighs, looking away, clearly unsatisfied with my answer. “I guess you can be nice…” I tapped his shoulder.
Zayne raises an eyebrow, “You guess? Do I not treat you well?”
Shrugging, I shake my head and raise my hands, feigning innocence, “It’s hard to say…” I take another sip out of my glass. “You never did any ‘hands-on’ learning with me.” Sticking out my lower lip in a pout, “And everyone says it’s an honor to be taught by you, sir…”
Putting down my wine glass, I sigh, “I wonder when I’ll get to experience it…”
“It seems you truly do want to learn about surgeries.” Zayne retorts.
“Who says it has to be for work?”
He looks at me, almost startled.
“Follow me.”
-
On the club's second floor, the billiard hall is tucked away, secret, and empty.
Perfect.
Walking forward, I circle around one of the pool tables.
“Why are we playing pool all of a sudden?” Zayne asks from behind me.
I flip my hair and look at him over my shoulder, “Because I wanna learn from you of course. Dr. Steven was praising your pool skills, but you’ve never mentioned them before.” I pushed my back to the table, leaning back on my hands.
Zayne walks up to me, “He was drunk and just rambling.”
“Oh? He said you were really good…” Cocking my head to the side to look at him, he stared back at me with intent, “Like a professional.”
“Maybe because a surgeon has steady hands.”
“Then-” I stood up straight again, crossing my arms and smiling sweetly, “it’d be nice if I could get some tips from you.”
“While I can’t give any tips per se, we can play.” He looks at me and smiles back, “If you want.”
Picking out two cue sticks, handing me the shorter one, he walks to one of the tables in the corner, “Have you played before?”
“Once or twice. People say I have potential,” Zayne raises a brow at my confidence, “but I ‘can play’.”
“Are you gonna be strict with me, sir?” I playfully swing around the cue stick. Zayne crosses his arms, leaning into me, “Strict teachers make outstanding students.” He states, “Let’s start.”
Gesturing for me to go, I lean over the table, feeling his eyes boring into me. I hold my breath as I hit the ball, the only sound in the room the echoes of the balls scattering.
Zayne chuckles under his breath, and I look back at him, “Did I do something wrong, sir?”
“You have more than enough strength. If you adjust your posture, you’ll see better results.”
“I need you to help me identify my weak spots via ‘hands-on learning’, sir.”
I watch as his facade begins to crumble a bit, before he quickly regains himself, “We’ll have to work on your posture then.”
Coming up next to me, I stand up straight as he leans down over the table, “Like this. Place your right foot back…” He strikes, graceful as ever. When I try, I look like a klutz.
Bent over the table, he comes up behind me. “Relax,” He whispers, “you’re too tense.” He places his hand on my back, and almost as a reflex to his touch, my waist immediately bends. “Now you’re too relaxed.” He clicks his tongue as I become jelly under his touch.
“Relax your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” His arm snakes up under mine, “Your head, right arm, and the cue stick should form a straight line.”
He places his hand softly on my cheek, shifting my head to the left, “How is it?”
“It,” I winced at the uncomfortable position, “hurts a little.”
I hear him smile, “That means it’s correct.”
Making a face, I try to give him my most pitiful look.
“You’re so harsh, sir.”
He grabs my chin, making me face the table again. The gesture makes me gasp.
“Don’t tilt your head.” Zayne remarks, “You messed up your posture again.”
“Is there an easier way? Like something I can do without much trouble?”
“Yes, but are you sure you want to do it?”
I groan, my body feeling stiff from holding this pose for so long, “Bring it on.”
I feel him shift from beside me, “Don’t move for now.”
Zayne comes up behind me, positioning himself where his chest is flush against my back. Reaching his arms around me, one of his hands comes up to grab mine. Lowering his head, I feel his breath on my neck as his lips settle next to my ear, “Your rhythm with the cue stick…isn’t quite there yet.” My eyelids flutter closed at his voice, “You need more hands-on training.”
He directs me carefully, “You should neither be too fast nor too hesitant.” His words sound distant as all I can focus on is the feeling of his body pressed against mine, as heat spreads in between my thighs.
My hand is enveloped in his, and the back and forth motion of the cue stick slows down, “Move the cue stick three or four times..” He instructs, everything about this feeling overwhelmingly provocative, “Stop at the point closest to the ball…”
“Did you get that?” He whispered, turning his head away from the pool table to face mine.
“Yeah…” Was all I could muster back.
Softly smirking, he turned back to follow my vision, “Keep your eyes on the ball, one…two…three…” I think I may actually combust if he keeps this up.
“Stop, and pull back the cue stick.”
He loosens his grip on me, “Snap out of it. Are you even listening to me?”
No, not really Zayne. I can really only focus on not grinding back into you right now.
“Ah yes,” I cough, “Pull back the stick…”
“Very good, just like that…” I bite back a whimper and the urge to rub my legs together at his praise, he knows good and well what he’s doing.
“Now…strike.”
I hit the ball, and when it goes in I snap out of whatever hypnotic haze I was in.
“It’s in!”
Zayne pulls back, and I stand up straight, placing my hands on my hips. “Did you see that? It was a great shot! I’m so cool…” Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I flash him a smile.
“I did.” He smiles warmly back, “You’re not a total beginner.”
“Maybe it’s because I practice shooting all the time. Or, it’s possible I’m a prodigy…” I started regaining my confidence after it had ever so slowly faltered on the pool table.
“Perhaps.” Zayne shrugs, “To be honest, all you need to be good at pool is…”
He leans over the edge of the table, looking over at me. My breath hitches at the sight.
“A steady hand, precision, and a calm attitude.” His eyes bore into mine, “Once you’ve locked into your target, don’t let go.”
I swallowed. Even though he was clearly talking about the ball, it felt oddly personal.
He has me play a bit more, teaching me as I go. I easily earn his praises and they ring like music in my ears.
“If a student does a good job,” I remind him, “shouldn’t they get a reward?”
He considers it for a second, “What do you want?”
Confidence bubbling up again inside of me, I sigh dramatically. “Well, it might be difficult to hit this next ball. Help me.”
“Is that all?” Zayne asks, clearly not convinced. Pausing before coming to help me, I give him a smug look, “What’s wrong Dr. Zayne? Are you scared?”
I was pushing my luck, and loving every second of it.
He frowned, “Provocation doesn’t work on me.”
“Then come here.” I nodded toward the pool table, giving him a sweet smile.
Zayne inches towards me, only moving slightly closer.
“Closer.” I demand, “Or else I can’t reach it.”
He gives me a confused look, “What exactly…”
I grab him by the collar, pushing him back onto the table. Zaynes cheeks turn pink as he stares up at me with a shocked expression. Lips slightly agape, I can see a million thoughts running behind his eyes. The dumbfounded look on his face makes me want to take him on the table right now.
“Look,” I pout, “the ball’s so far away. I think it’s time to use a cue rest.”
I tap the cue stick on each side of his head. Zayne narrows his eyes at me, “Using cue rests would be overkill.” He sits up, and I use the stick to slowly tug out his tie, “And this,” he glares, “is inappropriate.”
Though he feigns annoyance, the look in his eyes is a dead giveaway.
“But…” I pull the stick away leaning towards him, my breath dusting his ear, “I think you’re enjoying it…” He looks down and away at the table, clearly embarrassed, “I shouldn't have taught you so much” he mutters.
Running my fingers through his dark hair, I slowly tease my hand down his body, caressing his face, down to his chest, down to where I see where he’s aching for me to touch the most. I coo at him when I see the desperate look in his eyes, and quickly snap my hand away before I reach the bulge growing in his nice slacks.
Zaynes face is red hot as he sits up on the table enough that he’s eye level with me, “Who taught you to use your teacher as a cue rest…” he frowns.
“Well,” I place my hand on his chest over his heart, “this cue rests heartbeat is going to ruin my accuracy.” I tut.
“Is it my heartbeat affecting your accuracy, or yours?” His hand comes up to caress my cheek, “If you actually want to learn, I can show you another way…”
Zayne leans in, lips almost to mine before I grab his shoulder and push him back. He looks at me, wide eyed at the denial.
“Sir, this seems to be lacking professionalism.” Crossing my arms across my chest, his lips curve at my attempt to scold him.
“Weren’t you just using me as a cue rest?” He leans back in, “Talking about professionalism… is a bit too late.”
As he grabs me by my waist, I push him back onto the table again as a reply. The gesture only lasts a few seconds before Zayne smiles at me, quickly sitting up and using his hand around my waist to reverse us; flipping me onto my back and onto the table, he settled in between my legs. I squeak at the sudden change, as he now hovers over me, my head caged between his arms.
“Why don’t you let me show you…” Zayne pulls back, standing up straight. He grabs his cue stick, “Watch closely, I’m only going to do it once.”
Pushing his chest against mine, he goes for the ball right behind my head. His head hovers right above my face, and I lean up to place a kiss on his adams apple right as he strikes the ball. I have half a mind to bite into his neck, but he quickly stands back up as he watches the ball go in.
He looks down at me, and I’m sure I look utterly disheveled. From where he stood in between my thighs, my dress had ridden up high enough that every inch of my bottom half was almost on display for him to see. My hair was splayed out around me on the table, and my chest heaved with the breath I was so desperately trying to catch.
The sexual tension that had slowly built up throughout the night was now thick enough to cut with a knife. Smiling softly, Zayne tilts my chin up, caressing my jaw as his thumb slowly parted my lips, dipping it past my teeth and pressing it against my tongue. “Pretty little mouth…” he mutters, staring at the way his finger sits in between my lips. I look up at him through half-lidded eyes, sucking down on his thumb.
He frowns, “Always such a tease.” Zayne sighs, picking up my ankle, pressing a kiss to it. I craved his lips on mine, but I always enjoyed the shows he’d put on for me. He continued to kiss up my calf, closing his eyes as he felt my skin against his lips.
“Zayne.” I demanded, and he looked at me annoyed, as if I was interrupting something.
“Yes?”
“Kiss me…”
He leaned down, nose brushing against mine, but not meeting my lips. I pushed myself up, trying to connect us, but he pulled away at the last second. Frustrated and tired of his games, I grabbed Zayne by his tie, crashing my lips against his, pulling him down on top of me onto the table.
“Behave.” He groaned as I took his bottom lip in my teeth, tugging softly. Grabbing my wrists with his hand, he pinned them above my head. Zayne’s free hand roamed up my thigh, fingers dusting over the place I was praying for him to touch the most.
I squirmed under him as he toyed with the lace on my panties, never dipping his fingers past. His grip on my wrists tightened, lips leaving mine so our eyes could meet. Waves of lust crashed in his green eyes.
“What do you want?” His lips kissed down my neck and chest.
“You to touch me.” I whimpered.
He tsked, “Beg.”
“I’m sorry?”
“You heard me. Or do I need to teach you how to do that too?” Zayne nipped at my collarbone, then kissed the skin.
“Please…”
“What was that?”
“Please, Zayne.” Everytime I said please, his fingers inched closer to the arousal pooling in between my thighs, “Zayne, please, please, fuck, please.”
I felt him smile against my skin, and he dipped a finger inside of me.
Clenching around him, I moaned at the satisfaction.
Zayne groaned, “God, you’re so wet. You’ve been eager all night…” Pumping in and out, I stifled my whimpers and moans against his shoulder. He let go of my wrists, and my hands flew to his collar, gripping for dear life as he added another finger.
Tracing his thumb on my clit, two fingers curling up inside of me, Zayne always knew just how to make me come undone. He could get off on this alone, watching me fall apart underneath him by just his hands. I was seeing stars, thinking nothing could get better than this.
Zayne pulled away, and I cried out at the emptiness. He stood there for a second, just taking all of me in, “You’re so beautiful.” He took off his tie, gently grabbing me by the back of my head and lifting it up so he could tie the fabric around my mouth as a makeshift gag.
“As much as I love to listen to you, I don’t want anybody else to hear. Is that all right?”
I nodded at him and he smiled, petting my cheek, “Good girl.”
Reaching forward, I palmed his hard on through his nice, business slacks. The idea of them being around his ankles as he takes me on this table was enough to almost make me cry from joy. Sighing at the friction, Zaynes eyes fluttered closed, and I worked my hand up and undid his belt. Getting too eager, he freed himself, and slid my panties down to where they loosely dangled off one of my heels.
“I wish I could take my time with you,” He pressed his tip against my opening, “but this will have to do.” Sinking all the way down to the hilt, I choked out a muffled scream, squeezing my eyes shut as the tie killed my lewd noises.
Zayne grabbed my chin, fingers digging into my skin, “Eyes open.” He demanded, pulling out, and slamming back in, “Keep looking.”
Already overwhelmed from the stimulation he provided earlier, tears welled up in my eyes from just how good all of it felt. The impossibly delicious way he could fill me up, lips dancing across my skin as he chased after his own pleasure. His hand gripping into my hips, most likely leaving bruises, as he drilled into me; kissing my palm before biting into the skin to muffle his own groans.
Zayne’s skin glistened with sweat, the top buttons of his shirt undone, his lips red and swollen from my aggressions. He railed into me like a maniac, like he was fucking starving. Gracefully, his hand found its way back in between my thighs, finding the bundle of pleasure that made me cry out. At the feeling I blinked out tears, my eyes burning from the mascara I was practically sobbing away. I was moments away from ruining this table beneath me, and Zayne knew that.
He grabbed my neck, almost as if for stability as he picked up his pace. Desperately rolling his hips against mine, I clenched down around him “Just.. like that, oh... God." He moaned. I lifted my hips up to meet his thrusts, trying to chase my own release and his. Zayne looked me in the eyes, squeezing the hand around my neck, “My girl. Mine.” He groaned.
With one last thrust and his praise, I was screaming behind the tie, shaking from my release beneath him. Digging my nails into his biceps, his hips stuttered, and with a moan he pulled out, finishing all over my nice dress.
Zayne nearly collapsed on top of me as we laid there for a while, just soaking in the aftermath. As he pulled away, I watched him cringe at the mess he had left on me. For some reason, I started laughing.
“What’s that for?” He questioned.
I continued to giggle, “I didn’t know you were that good at pool…”
“If we had more time, I’d show you more of my techniques…”
Slapping him on the shoulder, I sat up, and he swept me off the table and back onto my feet. Brushing my hair with his fingers, he attempted to wipe away the mascara stains on my cheeks. “I know the back way out of here,” He pressed a kiss to my temple.
(divider by cafekitsune)
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vengefultakeover · 3 days ago
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Yes, Doctor
I tapped my foot as I waited for the doctor to come in and see me. I had just gone through the normal procedures with the nurse, checking my weight, taking my blood pressure, the works. I was nervous to get the results of my last test after a scare with my platelet count. I had gone down a long spiral of online searches and pushing myself towards an anxiety attack I would probably had not come back from. The phone call to schedule an appointment was normal, unable to detect anything in the voice on the other end.
"You will be just fine." She said before hanging up. Maybe I should have been worried.
"Hello there, how are you doing today?" He was holding the clipboard like a shield. Bad sign. You would think they would try to make me as comfortable as possiblle to break the bad news.
"What's wrong with me?" I asked, wincing as he sat down next to me.
"Nothing at all - we just wanted to go over some of the results with you to talk about a healthier future." He said with a smile that melted away my worries. The moment I returned the smiled I saw something clear out of the corner of my eye. I snapped my head towards it and could make out a head poking through the wall.
"What the fuck?" My jaw dropped as I looked at it and when the doctor looked back at the apparition peeking in through the cinderblocks he looked back at me with a confused face.
"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out.
"You can see me?" The head said. I nodded. What else was I supposed to do.
"I think maybe we should get you psychologically evaluated." The doctor said, writing something down. The specter emerged from the wall with a glowing aura and he quickly rushed the doctor. He dropped his clipboard shield and pen sword and gasped as the ghost slid his fingers between his lips and pulled his mouth open. With a gag, the ghost shoved his head into his mouth while I stared in awe with the sounds of slurping filling the room. My cock twitched as the tight scrub pants tightened and the doctor's bulge appeared. Inch by inch the ghost filled up the doctor's body, his neck bulging and his eyes tearing up until he got knocked back in his chair. The last of the tail disappeared with a wet pop and the doctor looked at me with wide eyes. His left arm flailed away from his body and I could see where the ghost was inserting itself into his limb. The rest followed suit, his legs kicking out from underneath him until he spun around like a cartoon character and was looking down at himself with a shit eating grin.
"What the fuck just happened?" I watched him slide his hands down his body, the musculature of the doctor poking through the fabric. Within seconds he wanted to see more and stripped off the scrubs, tossing them to the side while returning the stethoscope to his neck like an accessory.
"Let's have some fun, fleshie." He pushed off his underwear and was now standing in the room without any clothes on, smirking at me.
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"I'm not sure what's going on. What are you?" I asked. He took a step closer to me and I could feel his warmth. His cock was getting harder and so was mine.
"I'm shocked you were able to see me. I've never had a living see my ghost form. You weren't scared of it?" He chuckled.
"I think there are worse things in this world to be afraid of." I shrugged, the list growing longer in my mind.
"I suppose that's a good way to think about it." He inched closer to me, his cock grazing against my bulge.
"I guess so." My breath was starting to pick up.
"What do you say we have some fun while we're here?" He was grinning now, his hands sliding around my waist. A light tug and I was pressed against him, his cock sandwiched between us and pulsing. I pushed my hand up against his chest and squeezed, feeling his fuzzy pec in my hand.
"Will he know?" I wondered.
"They never do. We'll call it ghost-patient confidentiality." He got a kick out of that and his abs tightened as he laughed. I leaned in and kissed him, initiating the aggressive push against the wall and the grinding into my body. He couldn't really control himself, he was like a sexy doctor rabbit in heat. His hands squeezing me as I worshipped his body, suddenly finding myself bent over the examination table while he was beginning to explore my hole with his tongue. The crinkly white paper crunched below me and when I squeezed the sides of the bed my fingers turned red.
"Fuck yes. I want you so bad." I don't know what came over me as the doctor positioned himself behind me, his cock pulsing as he aligned it with my hole, squeezing it in. I bit my lip to prevent the moan from being heard outside of here. With each thrust I noticed I was barely breathing as I got so wrapped up in the pleasure. I could feel his cock starting to release inside of me and suddenly I was full of my doctor's seed while he was moaning, not keeping it from being heard.
"That was amazing. Maybe I'll haunt you outside of this stupid hospital." He slipped out of me and it made me shiver.
"I think I'd like that, Doctor." I said, standing up as we were both returning the crime scene back to its original condition. I pinched his nippled just as he slip the scrubs back on and I sat down where I was when the doctor's body was invaded.
"What are you doing?" He asked at the door.
"Oh, are you going to leave him?" I asked.
"Not today, we're going to go have some fun." He extended his hand and I was whisked away by this possessed hunk. I came in with the fear of a horrible diagnosis and somehow left closer to death than I ever thought I would be.
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kiidwritings · 1 day ago
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🐾 weird quirks cat hybrid! 141 + könig do
word count; 4744. tags/warnings; cat!hybrid 141. maybe ooc. KONIG IS NOT PART OF 141 but he is here for funsies lol. konig is fat both in human form and cat i dont make the rules. failed attempts at writing a scottish accent sorry 😿. no beta read. possible grammatical errors. lmk if anything else!
a/n: (rewriting this cuz tumblr is a bitch, dont tell me "draft saved!" when it clearly fucking didn't) anyways I LOVE HYBRID AUS I WISH I WAS PART ANIMAL RAAAHHH!! i forgot when i started this but it was definitely way after i discovered hallohello's cat cafe au on ao3. i see a lot of silly cat tiktoks on my fyp, so each character (except price, sorry peepaw ;-;) has a video linked) i did extensive research (not rlly lol) into what type of cat they'd all be cuz im insane and love cats meow :3 edit 12/24/24: holy fuck uhh hi. school started when i was like 70% finished the art for this and so im just now posting it here. im no longer fixated on cod so this'll probably be my last cod writing ough. plz enjoy anyways
pawprint divider by @/saradika-graphics. banner art by me! inspired by @/i-am-hungry-24-7 's cod cat cafe au
pairing(s): poly! cat hybrid! 141 + konig x gn!reader, platonic cat!hybrid price + reader
READ ON AO3!!
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Price
If they were wolves, Price’d be the alpha no doubt
He’s the dominate male of 141 (duh, he’s the captain), not only keeping the boys in line, but also you
Just like an actual father, he gives you disappointed looks in both human and cat form when you do something even slightly against his wishes
Woke up late for work? Disappointed sigh
Fell for Soap’s pleads for more treats? A disappointed glance
He’s favorite way of spending time with you outside of going out to eat or maybe a shopping trip together was by sitting with you whenever you do work. Whether it's on your lap (which actually helps with your posture), behind your laptop, or even the majority of the time, watching the screen as you type away at some document.
Its both a blessing and a curse because he keeps you focused…even when you just wanna scroll on your phone for five minutes, he’s putting a paw on ur hand and giving you that disappointed cat dad look
You had a backload of documents and work related to the cafe that you’d been putting off but the guilt was eating away at you like a child quickly makes do with a candy bar, so instead of snuggling with Soap and Gaz on the couch to binge watch a show that took you forever to finally start up, you were sat at your desk, fingers flying across your keyboard as you inputted this month’s numbers into an excel sheet. Price, layed with his chin against his chest next to you, his ginormous and fluffy body splayed out upon the darkened wood and some extra papers you’d have to shimmy out from under him later. (Being that big made it hard to fit into places thinner cats usually could.)
You had been working for sometime now, making sure to stretch and take water breaks in between…but, all the numbers and math on your laptop screen were blurring in your head and your eyes were straining! You needed more than 5 minutes away from your screen.
With a groan, you crack your joints and lean back against the cushions of your chair. Price’s ear swiveled in your direction and he cracked an eye open. His bushy tail flicked and he left out a yawn, showing off his great fangs before shuffling around more comfortably, slowly morphing into a loaf.
You smiled and gave him a scratch behind the ear, which was met with a low rumble of purring and a tilt of his head. With your other hand, you grabbed your phone (which had been on do not disturb) and read through any notifications you got within the last three hours.
You took your hand away from Price and began to reply back to a text. He fully opened his eyes and glanced over at you. With your phone in hand, you were now hunched a bit using your elbows to keep you propped up on the desk.
Price let out a small sigh and stretched himself, back arching upwards.
Your text message conversation was obstructed by a large brown paw placing itself on your screen. You looked up and Price was staring at you with his brown eyes, pupils expanding and his ears swerving to the sides. He lets out a crunchy meow, a warning.
“What? I’ve been working for like three hours straight, don’t I deserve an actual break?” You huffed. His paw stayed and he squinted his eyes at you, before giving a slow blink. You slowly blinked back.
You knew he was just being the father figure that he was, watching out for the ones he loves, but you wanted to doomscroll dammit!...just as a little treat.
Price finally removed his paw before jumping down from the desk (his tail brushing against your nose and causing you to sputter). He looked back at you as you stared from your desk chair. You knew what that meant- he wanted you to follow him. With a sigh and a small smile, you got up from your chair, feeling how heavy your limbs got from sitting still for all that time. 
With a pleased mreow, he led you into the living room before stretching himself up to the twine pole on the cat tree. Ah, he wanted you to stretch too!
Remembering some warmups from your Sunday yoga class, you felt your joints pop and muscles strain as you stretched your achy body.
Once satisfied, he jumps atop the couch and slow-blinks at you again. You join him, lying down and staring up at him. He continues to purr as he lets his tail slump down and brush against your nose again, causing you to erupt with giggles.
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Soap
Out of all five cats, Soap had to be the most chaotic one.
Whether it was failing to jump from one perch to another and pouting about it, getting bopped in the head by Ghost, or his meows that lasted so long you’d wonder how strong his little kitty lungs were, he was definitely the one who got the most attention for his silly antics at the cafe
He was like this even in his human form, he’s following you around the apartment, chatting away or always keeping a hand on your figure (it was no doubt his love language was physical affection, you had so many pictures of him all snuggled up with the others)
Whenever you found something that triggered a silly response, you would milk it till it became a new normal 
But one thing that’ll never get old is his reaction to butt scratches... 
When the weather was bad, the cafe was usually pretty quiet. Few customers came in and the cats were rather calm. Price took his usual spot upon the highest wall perch, Gaz was grooming himself and purring at people’s feet, Ghost was helping in the back, König would occasionally stick his head out from his little hiding box, and Soap was unusually sleepy. He’d let himself get fonded over, meow a bit, try and rile up the other, but he mostly lounged around. You could see in his little cat face that something was up. 
He slacked a bit when it came to helping clean up after closing and upon returning to the apartment, flopped down on your bed. With his face fully engulfed in the pillow, he seemed dead to the world. Kyle made a teasing remark which was only met with an exaggerated groan and a sad flick of his tail.
Everyone else had gone to do their own things; Price went home, Kyle and Ghost were on the couch watching TV with König (still in his cat form) lounging on the latter’s lap, purring up a storm.
“You haven’t been yourself today, Johnny. What’s wrong?” You ask, slipping into some lightweight sweatpants and sitting next to his figure on the bed. His cat ears flick up and towards you and he let out another groan and turned his head towards you. Johnny’s got that look on his face, it's different from his pleading pouts- which never falls you make you fold for him. 
No, this look is exhaustion, like he’s been drained of all his usual boyish enthusiasm. Like he can’t find a reason to get out of bed. There’s no usual purr resounding from his chest or a mischievous glint in his eyes, in fact, they looked clouded with depression like the sky outside, focused on nothing in particular.
Your heart ached from him. Seasonal depression was a bitch. When the seasons shifted and the clouds lingered in the sky more than you would like, it made the world seem less enjoyable. Constant rain made you want to sit in bed all day and binge eat and when the snow fell from the sky like flour through a sifter, you couldn’t even bring yourself to open the blinds, knowing the sight of the powdery white clinging to buildings would send your mind spiraling.
Not only that, but the dreary weather caused his knee to act up, like the joints were stuck together no matter what stretches he did.
You climbed into bed behind Johnny and wrapped your limbs around him, giving him a squeeze. His tail snaked around your leg and you felt his body relax. The added warmth was what you and Johnny needed to fend off the mysterious draft flowing through the flat.
His ear twitches as your breath fanned over it, “Why don’t you shift and we can snuggle, hmm suds?” You whisper to him and give him a soft smile.
He mumbles something at the nickname but compiles, slipping off his clothes and shifting into a brown Scottish fold, his blue eyes still shining. Johnny plops himself on your chest and makes some soft biscuits, his purr rattling your chest. He looks so much more relaxed now- he was your living weighted doll.
Johnny begins to settle down enough to doze off while you scroll on your phone. You scratch behind his ear a little and he tilts his head at maximum relaxation. Your hand slowly moved down his body- you went from his chin, to his back, poking his tummy a bit, then to the base of his tail. It twitches, swishing a bit against your hand but when you start scratching, Johnny’s butt lifts and his eyes crack open.
You giggled at his enjoyment of simple butt scratches, but this was the beginning. You shape your hand into a claw and scratch a bit more intensely. His purring increases and he lifts his head in pleasure, arching his back. Johnny let out a long meow followed by what can only be described as ‘wah wah wah wah wah’.
Nevermind the fact that his claws were digging into your chest, you both were enjoying the moment. His tail was practically wagging and he looked blissed out from butt scratches. Unable to control yourself, you burst into laughter and stopped scratching. His body went back to its relaxed state and he stared at you, his little blue eyes wide.
Johnny turned away with the best equivalent to a pout a cat could give. “Feel good, suds?” You asked through a laugh and all he responded back with was a ‘mrow’ of embarrassment.
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Kyle
Kyle was the certified pretty boy, both in the group and according to the cafe’s customers
Every video or picture with him on the cafe’s socials gets a shit ton of likes
(you most popular post is gaz licking soap’s head while soap licks ghost’s head, who seem rather calm with everything and König watching from the side, wanting to join in)
He’d sit and flaunt himself in little cat outfits, or meow sweetly at the customers who couldn’t help and coddle him, like mind control, and even using that boyish charm on you and the others (he’s been found snuggled up to Ghost on more than one occasion, the pair’s tail tangled together and occasionally chirping at each other)
Kyle enjoyed watching you cook both as a human or cat. he was also one of the only ones who could be trusted up there; Soap and König stole food, Ghost couldn’t care less and when he did, he would knock things over (and although Price doesn’t live with you all, he got a bit sneezy around all the spices and seasonings)
Tonight’s dinner was chicken parmesan and spaghetti, so after Kyle helped with a bit of prep (being the gentleman he is), he shifted and hopped onto his little spot on the counter
After breading the chicken breasts, you popped the first patch into the air fryer. You set a big pot upon the stove, turning the flame to medium and drizzling some oil into it. Kyle sat loafed, observing you move around the kitchen, gathering ingredients, keeping an eye on the chicken, as well as having to shoo some mischievous kitties out the kitchen.
Once the water begins to bubble, causing Kyle’s ears to swivel in its direction, you slide the noodles into the water. You stir them around before opening up the air fryer. Steam poured out along with a wave of heat and the delicious smell of chicken.
“Oh man, I can’t remember the last time I had chicken parm.” If you were in a cartoon, you’d be comically salivating at the sight of the crispening chicken. Kyle seemed just as interested because he stretched his neck out a bit and you could see his little pink nose wiggling.
You started flipping each piece over, allowing for equal crisp on both sides, when you held up a smaller piece. “Want a sniff, pretty boy? I can trust you not to snatch this away from me.” You cooed at him, lowering the chicken to his nose. He instantly began to sniff, his tail swishing a bit. His pupils expanded and his mouth became ajar, and he started huffing like his nose was clogged or something.
You snorted as he turned away, mouth still agape and his eyes wide. Was this some weird cat quirk? None of the others did this and Kyle has had chicken before, but damn if this wasn’t cute!
He could get away with almost anything if he flashed his big brown eyes at you. (When he scratched your hand up after König tipped over the catnip jar, he just rubbed his little kitty face against your bandages and gave you a small meow. Or when he’d eaten the last brownies you were looking forward to after a long and hard day, he kissed along your neck and face before whispering sweetened apologies in your ear.)
“Smell yummy, hmm, Kyle? Never seen you do this before.” You giggled as he licked his lips and closed his mouth. He meowed back before stretching his front limbs, going into Sphinx-pose.
After a couple moments, you move onto the pasta, taking a noodle out and blowing before nibbling on it. ‘Needs more time…’ you thought as you looked over at Kyle, who’s eyes were closed and his tail flicked momentarily. You smirk as you grab another noodle and shimmy over to him. His ears swivel towards you and he cracks one eye open. 
“Give this a smell?” You asked as you held the noodle in front of him. Like clockwork, his mouth parted as he huffed and sniffled at the semi limb pasta.
You laughed as he even squinted his eyes, as if in deep concentration over the smell of this bland noodle.
And just like a cat, he reacted faster than you, jumping back at Johnny jumped on the counter and snatched the noodle out from between you two fingers, skidding out the kitchen and under the cat tree.
“NO! Dammit Johnny! You’re so greedy!” You fumed as you went to scold him. Gaz’s eyes closed in satisfaction and he went back to lounging.
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Ghost
You’re still finding out things about simon
Not that there isn’t some level of trust between you two, but he’s just an enigma to everyone
It took him almost 6 months for him to finally agree to sit in at the cafe as a cat and not just help in the back
Unlike most black cats online, he doesn’t really have any of those quirks
Sure he likes to knock things over, bat at the other’s (mainly soap and König) when he was annoyed, and hit your legs whenever you walk by, but those were normal cat things
He spent more time in his human form (unless he needed his alone time, then he snuggled himself into his cat cubby), so when he was shifted, you enjoyed spending as much time observing him like he was his more bigger counterpart- the black panther
Simon was overall a pretty normal cat
You’d learnt all his favorite scratching spots, his favorite football (im so american RAAAAGHHH) team, his designated spot on the bed, and exactly how he enjoyed his tea
He was never really as vocal as a human or cat. If he wanted something, he’d either stare you down or bat at you. If someone was annoying him, he had a hardy hiss that got anyone backing off (he’s only ever growled at price, having too much respect for the man)
When out, Simon was protective; walking on the outer part of the sidewalk, opening doors for you, making sure you were always walking in front of him, even when snuggling he’d hiss at the others so you two can be alone 
Who said Simon Riley wasn’t a softie under all that eye-black and classic skull balaclava?
Spring was finally here, long gone the days of constant clouds hanging over the city and random cold fronts. The city planters had bedded tulips around the neighborhood flower beds, people were out and about during the weeks, outside tables at diners and cafes finally being occupied, and the sun warming up your apartment and your heart.
The cafe was busy today, groups enjoying pastries and drinks while the cats ran around.
Gaz and Soap were playing around, slipping under tables and playing with the customers. König even let a few people pet him (which caused him to chirp and get even more pets). Price was helping in the back (people always complimented the drinks when he made them, so you let him handle those to help boost his ego), and Ghost sat on a high perch attached to the window, too high for anyone ton reach him, but in a good spot to catch some of the breeze that came through the screen door.
You came over to check on him and all he did was swish his tail and slow blink at you. You could hear people coo at his bright pink beans as he stretches before rolling back over. It was nice to see Simon out and about during busy hours, he’d usually hide away from everyone, including Soap and König who loved his personal space. (Out of the two, Soap has gotten the most bats to the head while König has been nipped twice.)
You’re chatting with some customers, Gaz sits proudly in the lap of one of them when there’s a clattering outside and you see someone passing by has knocked over the black board outside. You roll your eyes a bit, excusing yourself and exiting the cafe to pick it up back.
“Some people…jeez.” You grumble as you straighten it back up. As you're crouched down, a shadow casts above you and when you look up, there’s a brunet giving you an apologetic smile. His hair is sleek and he’s wearing a cool gray office suit. 
“Ah, sorry about that, sweets.” The unnecessary pet name has your nose wrinkling, but you keep your displeasure masked. 
“It’s ok, nothing’s broken.” You say as you brush off your knees and straighten up. He’s average height and build, nothing to gawk over but not bad looking. He’s got a glint in his eye and before you can turn away, he’s opening his mouth. 
“I pass here everyday and I’ve seen you hustling around, like a cute little maid. You own this place, eh?” The more he talks, the more you get the urge to spit at his feet- those obnoxiously shiny loafers. You just grit your teeth and force a polite smile.
“Mhmm, yup. I’ve got some order to make so I’ll be-.” 
“I never liked cats, too hairy and mean, but I’d come here for you.~ You should be the main face of this cafe instead of those...pets, sales would be booming if you just flashed a pretty little smile.” He flashes his pearly whites and you suddenly feel exposed under his sultry gaze. 
“I, uhh, appreciate it but I have to go-.” He takes a step towards you, his hand ready to grasp onto your arm when there’s a clunk against the window behind you. 
Ghost, with big eyes and his body fluffed up like a sea urchin stood on his hind legs, body pressing against the glass like if he tried hard enough, he could phase through and slice the bastard's face into flesh ribbons. His claws scratch at the glass and he lets out a hiss that sounds loud even through the window. Customers and the other cats look over at the scene and the office man wrinkles his nose. Ghost keeps hissing and presses himself more into the glass, definitely leaving marks where his nose and paws were pressing.
In human form, you were blessed if you never at the receiving end of Ghost's intimidation, but as a cat, seeing him before a black puff ball of rage was certainly cute.
“You keep feral cats in your cafe?!” The man asks, disgusted by Ghost's actions of pure rage. You’ve never seen Ghost get so aggressive, but in this moment, you’re thankful.
“Yep, so maybe it’s best you don’t stop by!” You huff at him and turn curtly back into the cafe, ignoring his grumbles and curses at Ghost as he continues to stare down the sleazeball. 
Even after the man has gone down the street, Ghost is still seething. He stills alert in his window perch and watches the people go by. Some stop to coo at him through the glass despite his deadly glare so he goes to his hiding spot to brood. 
Once the last group leaves and everyone shifts back to help clean up, Ghost peeks his little head out. You squat down and give him a smile. He just glares.
“Thank you, Si. I appreciate the backup.” You boop his nose and he growls before batting at your hand. You just laugh and coo at him more. 
“Seems like you have a little katze bodyguard.” König teases as he wipes down some tables. Ghost hisses and slinks out of hiding, making his way to the back area to get dressed and wash dishes.
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König
being raised in a poor household with just his mutter and oma, he struggled but was also spoiled, wanting to be given the best life they could provide for him
His mom would sometimes not eat just to provide her growing boy a full meal
And man did he grow…
At age 13, Anton was 5’11 and 145 lbs. And according to his doctor, he wasn’t done growing yet!
He was outcasted by his peers, bullied and teased for how his second hand clothes never truly fit over his stomach or how his shoes were slowly falling apart
Over his years of being in the military, a balanced diet, and an intense workout routine, some of that fat turned to muscle but his body was still plump
His stomach hadn’t formed any abs, his thighs spread when he sat, and his arms if not flexed jiggled
He’d gotten better with his body issues, and with the help of loving partners and therapy he didn’t scowl looking in the mirror
He’d still grow flustered when you’d playfully pat his stomach or when soap’d tease about getting him into something more revealing to show off his fat ass, his creamy white skin blooming a bright red which ensued even more teasing
Add onto being a maine coon hybrid, his cat form was also a bit chubby under all that fur
When he ran, his pouch swung side to side and he had trouble fitting into smaller perches kitties like soap and gaz lounged on with ease
Each of the cats had a specific level of the cat tree dedicated to them. König’s favorite spot was a little perch in the center of the cat tree that had a small hole in the middle. It was meant for cats to stick their heads through and play with each other, but with his large physique, he took over that whole platform
Sundays were usually when you tried to get everything done before the work week started back up again. Groceries were dwindling and Price wasn’t gonna let you eat take out anymore (you’d accidently let slip on the phone that you got the same delivery drive twice in a row and he pressured the rest out of you).
Kyle had just ventured to the bedroom to receive some clothes, wanting to spend some time with his Captain and his partner, Simon and Johnny opted to stay home, and König…you actually hadn’t heard from him in a while.
Pulling a shirt over your head, you headed into the living room. The TV was playing a rerun while Johnny splayed his legs over Simon’s, who didn’t seem bothered. Entering the living room, you pass by the couch and to the cat tree, where a big mass of dusty orange fur sat, front legs dangling off the edge.
You poke his back, and the skin jumps as he lets out a ‘merr!’ and lifts his head. König yawns, sticking his pink tongue out and you boop the tip. He snaps his mouth shut and gives another chirp. His long ear flicks and he licks his lips as you speak.
“You thinking about joining us, we’re heading to the store. We might need your muscles carrying the bags, big boy.” You stroke his back and you feel him arch up a bit.
König seems to be thinking in his little kitty mind before laying his head back down with a small and dainty, “Maow!” 
You giggle, he’s always had a high pitched voice. He was another silent kitty next to Ghost, only using his meow at home or occasional chirps in the public eye of cafe customers. (This didn’t stop them from cooing at his squeaky voice and he’d grow embarrassed.)
“D’aww, ok. You can stay home with the lovebirds, König.” You scratch his back some more, before you see a mound hanging down from the platform’s underside.
“Oh? What’s this?” You tease as you squat down. You knew what it was, you were just feeling a bit cheeky today. König chirped and his tail swished and he watched you gaze at his belly.
It was round and a nice cream color compared to the rest of his fur. It was also weirdly the softest part of him. You grinned as you poked it, running your hands along it like feeling a baby bump. König chirped again, it sounded like a whine, but that didn’t stop you.
“So chubby, no wonder even Ghost has trouble picking you up. At least we know you’re eating well! I like my partners' big boned and my cats chonky.” You jiggled and played with his stomach more before König let out a meow of annoyance, but it was too cute for you to take offense to!
You straightened back up to give him some deserved chin scratches for putting up with your antics. But with a huff, König stood up and turns away, making sure to smack your face with his tail before jumping down and off to the bedroom, pouch swaying as he trotted off. (You heard Kyle give a kiss to the gentle giant and offer him the same deal, to which he agreed to! So cheeky!)
“Ya’ gotta quit bullyin’ the lad! No wonder he ‘as a new favorite!” Johnny says as his eyes were now on you, but his gaze focused elsewhere but your eyes. You stammered to defend yourself. König truly didn’t mind, you’d talk about it before but you always kept it to light teasing and never any insults. He’d tease you back, despite how reserved he was, his hooked nose would scrunch when he made a remark that had you gawking and pouting at him. 
“I-I wasn’t bullying König! Also you saw his stomach, it’s like this when he walks!” You mimic the motion by making a side to side motion with your hands, feeling flushed now having been called out.
Johnny just smirked as Simon spoke up, “Unless you plan on shopping in your knickers, I’d suggest you finish dressing.”
As if on queue, a breeze ruffled the satin curtains and tickled your bare legs, skin erupting with goosebumps. You blush harder and stomp past the couch, not without receiving a swat on the butt from Johnny, who can only laugh as you swear back at him.
(With each trip that issued carrying groceries, you were left struggling, hands burning from the strain, while König chivalrously took bags from Kyle's hands, them both throwing you smug smirks.)
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fitzjamesbulletwound · 3 days ago
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well i finally made it... here's my episode by episode deep dive into every joplittle moment in the entirety of the terror for all of my fellow joplittle freaks out there. i can't draw or write fiction but i CAN be insane about details :) i did my best to edit this so please forgive me if there's typos or things that don't make sense. and a final note before you start reading- i think i make a point to say this in some instances but it bears repeating at the beginning- i could certainly be wrong about some of these observations as they are largely in the background and usually happen very quickly while something more front facing is happening in the scene. i did my best though!
Episodes 1&2- basically nothing, at the dinner scene in episode 1 we can infer that jopson shuffles behind edward at one point but there’s no onscreen proximity or eye contact. neither of them are in episode 2 at all. 
Episode 3: we have one of the joplittle scenes to end all joplittle scenes in this episode. When edward is talking to crozier, blanky, jirv, and hodgson about his fears of netsilik retribution, jopson knocks and walks in the door. When he enters the room, edward immediately stops talking, makes eye contact with him, then starts tugging his jacket down, almost to the point of squirming and fidgeting. Jopson walks into the room making eye contact with edward with the tiniest smile on his face and his eyes are so bright and interesting in this scene. And i think there could be some arguments made that this is just how these two are but i have some additional thoughts- yes edward is an awkward guy but he outranks so many people in that room, jopson most of all, and yet he immediately stops speaking and becomes visibly flustered when jopson walks in. And their eye contact lingers for such a long time before jopson looks to crozier, the person he actually came to address. And just again with how bright jopson’s eyes are and the tiny tiny smile he has on his face when he’s looking at edward that then turns a little more serious when he turns to address crozier. It’s such an interesting scene! 
later on when the terror boys are going across the ice to sir john’s funeral, jopson is walking behind edward… he might be looking at him but it’s very hard to tell so i hesitate to even include that instance. HOWEVER during the camera pan when crozier is reading sir john’s eulogy, we see jopson looking up at one point, and then his gaze briefly comes down to the person directly in front of him… which is edward. 
Episode 4: When crozier is sitting in the dark drunk and depressed and probably listening to the cranberries and jopson comes in, the script says he shows somebody down the hall five fingers, probably to indicate “give me five minutes”. Since he then says that lieutenant little is asking about the meeting, we can presume they came to see crozier together. 
When jopson is giving crozier the headlines of the meeting, the way he talks about what he knows from edward sounds more like it was from an actual conversation they had vs the other two he mentions- he says “mr reid reports” and “lieutenant irving has what sounds like a pressing issue”- both of these expressions imply that he was doing exactly what crozier says he does- hearing everything. but with edward it’s “lieutenant little is wondering, he says/thinks this this and this”. The language used to describe what he knows about what edward will report on is much more direct and familiar. I think ned and jopson were hanging out before they came to see about the meeting with crozier hehe
In the scene where heather gets his shit rocked it’s very hard to keep track of edward and jopson but there is proximity and it’s very possible a few times that they might exchange glances. It certainly seems that when edward goes below decks to arm the men jopson watches him go. 
Episode 5 ended up being the most fruitful for pretty clear glances and looks that i had never noticed before
when jopson comes in with the tea tray he and edward look at each other the whole time Jopson is walking to the table to set it down
after Jopson says “consider it done sir” edward watches him as he walks out of the room until crozier stops him, then he looks at crozier
Ned could definitely still be looking as Jopson answers crozier, the line of sight is correct and in the script it specifically says that little has to look away from Jopson (not crozier) as they discuss the whiskey because it makes him so sick that this is being discussed right after talking about hornby’s death
A lot of proximity during the Silna and crozier conversation but I don’t think they look at each other.. Jopson might be looking at Edward when he walks in with silna and he might glance at him when he walks past him after setting the tea tray back down but I’m not sure. 
In the script it says that jopson and little exchange a look when crozier says he’ll go to get the alcohol for blanky’s surgery but it looks like it’s him and hodgson looking at each other.. however edward looks at someone offscreen too that would make sense to where jopson is standing at the time. There’s a lot of proximity in that scene where they carry blanky down and set him on the table
Damn that extremely prolonged eye contact when taking the whiskey shots is so interesting too? Especially since it seems like jopson struggles to take the shot.. It seems like he might not drink a lot and that could be for 2 reasons- another callback to historical jopson and him being lashed 30 something times for drunkenness or it could be because of his mother’s addiction which at this point in the story we don’t even know about it. Either one would make sense but if anyone has any ideas please share them
they are right next to each other while blanky gets his leg cut off
In the script it says that jopson brings edward into the room for the meeting with crozier after blanky’s surgery, I believe they are the last two to join but even if not.. interesting for sure.
when crozier stands up to give the whiskey to jopson to pour out, Jopson is looking down but for just a moment before he turns to crozier again he looks at edward
Aaaaaand edward then watches crozier take the last drink of whiskey but then he looks right at Jopson!!!!
When crozier goes to his berth it pans over to Jopson and he eventually looks at ned AGAIN
Ugh I loved this episode because there was truly so much to notice and like it’s there! I need to know why!!
Episode 6: okay we have one of THE joplittle scenes and god fucking bless Liam for his commentary here because there’s just so much to it… like the fact that he’s trying to convey to Edward that things are bad but they will be okay with a single look suggests such a familiarity and closeness and understanding between them because like how would you communicate that with a look to someone that you weren’t on fairly intimate terms with?? (need to make post about other pairs that talk through eye contact in the show, like hickey and tozer). at the very least we have to assume they confide in each other and understand each other to a certain degree and like now we’re slightly straying into delulu land but I love how protective Edward looks when hickey walks over and kinda gets close to jopson lol edward is already watching jopson walk away and he gives hickey this little glare when he realizes hickey is too. also just the simple fact that they were eating together??
When Reid bumps into crozier at carnivale and little tells him to step back he’s looking at jopson and when it cuts to jopson he’s looking back at him
They exchange a glance in the background of crozier reacting to hoar and crispe in the big pot lol
Jopson watches Edward for most of the little clip where crozier is walking away after telling the men to get of the pot
After crozier says they’ll be abandoning the ships and walking Edward looks over at jopson for a long time
When crozier is saying “they are a good people who we can greet as friends” jopson looks over at Edward and looks him up and down twice… that’s 4k babyyyy, that one was crazy
When Stanley sets himself on fire and it cuts to the crowd Edward definitely looks around until he sees jopson in front of him
It’s extremely hard to tell but at one point it looks like ned crozier and jopson are all moving together looking for an exit and ned briefly puts his hand on jopson’s back or at the very least reaches for his back wtffffff
Mmm not sure about this one but in the background of the cleanup scene you can see Edward helping people and it looks like jopson may be with him
Episode 7: ugh the promotion sceeeeene idk what i can say that hasn’t already been said but i will always always always point out that this is the happiest we EVER see Edward in the show, his smile is so huge and throughout the scene he keeps giggling to himself and when he’s still sitting down you can see him kinda do an eyebrow raise thing like “oh my god well I wasn’t expecting that but this is amazing” HE LOVES THAT MAN UUUGH AND THE WAAAAY he looks so fondly at him after he shakes his hand and he just keeps smiling and giggling like everyone is so happy in this scene but Edward is the happiest…
Episode 8: when crozier is yelling at edward for arming the mutiny jopson is turned around watching ned.. Ugh :( 
another shot of jopson turning to look at ned before he looks at crozier in this scene 
eye contact when Edward walks into the tent where Irving’s body is
definitely some potential eye contact when they’re asking hodgson to confirm that hickey lied
jopson watches Edward when he’s explaining why they shouldn’t trust the marines
edward is looking at jopson right before crozier says to find the carpenters
Episode 9: what i believe is the last joplittle scene…. god it’s so rough. I feel like jopson is so hurt because he knows his time is coming and i feel like Edward thinks everyone in that tent including jopson will be able to continue to haul south… ugh and then jopson just stares Edward down the whole time when dundy starts talking :(
Episode 10: when edward is walking to the tent to address the men his gaze lingers on the sick tent where jopson is now…
i also find it very interesting that he was all about going south and leaving the sick behind in episode 9 but completely changes his tune now- i know that this has to do with saving crozier but he makes such a strong argument for not leaving the ill behind (although he of course obviously somehow does) that it makes me wonder if jopson had anything to do with that.. like a big difference between when they first made the proposal and now is that jopson could still haul when they suggested it before but he can’t now
And his reasonings point to jopson a lot too- “9 so ill they can’t walk, only 2 able bodied lieutenants” like he was thinking of him!!
and one last fucking thing before I fucking die- edward’s last word “close?” mirrors some of jopson’s first- “we’re close sir”.. They are the last two to be found by crozier, two of the men who saw almost everything and died last… ugh. 
Final thoughts: i will constantly make the argument that when it comes to the terror, absolutely nothing is on accident. Nothing. Some of the scenes i described can certainly be debated but the simple fact is, edward and jopson spend a lot of their scenes together exchanging looks and watching each other. It is safe to assume based on their roles that they must share at least a small amount of familiarity but i think that these shared glances suggest a deeper connection. They seem to be able to communicate seamlessly without ever really speaking to one another and when they aren’t communicating through their eyes, they are still watching each other in shared scenarios. I would love to know more about whether this was just how liam and matthew chose to act their dynamic or if there’s more to say about them. Either way i’m going to keep being delusional about them because i love them together and i think there’s ample evidence to prove that they are more familiar than we might realize
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olvxva · 2 days ago
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unspoken flames | joost klein x f!reader
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part II
✦ wc: 2.7 k
✦ warnings: angst, friends to not really lovers, smoking, mentions of drinking, rpf
✦ an: got a request about friends to lovers, but ofc i had to make this as angsty as possible hehe. i'm thinking about writing a second part so let me know if i should do it ;)
pushing your way through the crowd, you dreamed of nothing more than getting outside as quickly as possible. chaos surrounded you from all sides – the intense smell of sweat and alcohol mingled with the pounding bass of music that seemed to seep into your very bones. the lights cast surreal shadows on sweaty faces, adding to the overwhelming atmosphere. every step was a challenge, and every accidental brush with another body only heightened your urge to escape.
your gaze darted desperately until you finally spotted the much-desired metal door. its surface gleamed under the club's flashing lights. you fixed your full attention on it, ignoring everything else around you. with all your strength, you pushed it open, as if that single motion held the promise of freedom.
outside, everything felt different. the cold night wind wrapped around your overheated skin, soothing its burning sensation. the air smelled of dampness and the city, each breath filling you with a sense of renewed energy. you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning your back against the rough concrete wall. its cool surface seeped through the thin fabric of your clothing.
the wind played with your hair, lifting it gently, and you felt as though time had slowed. the chaos that had surrounded you moments ago now seemed like an unreal memory. the music still echoed in your ears, but it was muffled and distant. at last, you felt the tension go away, replaced by a calmness that filled every corner of your body.
you reached into your bag, feeling an abrupt need to deliver nicotine to your brain, desperate for relief. your fingers plunged into its depths, brushing against everything except what you were searching for.
“shit” you muttered under your breath, rummaging further into the abyss of your small, red bag. its contents seemed infinite, as if all the frustration built up in your body had found an outlet in this attempt to locate a cigarette. finally, your fingers brushed against the cool, metallic shape of your lighter, and soon after, you found the familiar pack of cigarettes.
you pulled a cigarette from the pack and placed it between your lips, the red lipstick marking the tip. your fingers trembled slightly as you brought the lighter closer to your face, focusing on the spark wheel. but instead of the expected flame, you only heard the dry click of it failing.
"are you kidding me?" you whispered desperately, trying to ignite a tiny flame, as if your determination could somehow bring that damn lighter back to life.
"really? right now?"
the wind toyed with the unlit cigarette in your mouth, and you began to wonder whether you should go back inside for a new lighter or just give up entirely.
you lifted your gaze, hoping someone might rescue you from this unfortunate situation. turning your head to the right, you heard voices and laughter coming from that direction. without thinking too much, you adjusted your coat on your shoulders, trying to look more composed than you felt, and headed toward them.
"uhm, hey, sorry to bother you…" you cleared your throat uncertainly as you approached.
three pairs of eyes immediately turned toward you, one pair in particular catching your attention. his eyes, shining in the streetlight, held something hypnotic that threw you off balance for a moment.
"i just wanted to ask if you might have a lighter to borrow?" you replied with a slightly tipsy smile, trying to mask your shyness. you noticed the corner of his lips lift in a nearly imperceptible grin before he reached into his pocket.
"anything for a beautiful lady" said the blonde, handing you the small metal object that gleamed in the lamplight.
you twirled the lighter in your fingers, examining its smooth surface as if you wanted to memorize this small but saving gesture. you looked up at the blonde and flashed him the widest smile you could manage at that moment.
"thank you" you said, your voice carrying sincere gratitude.
the blonde returned your smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"no problem. if I can help in a crisis, why not?" he joked, and the rest of the group smiled in amusement as well.
you pressed the lighter to your cigarette, finally letting the small flame catch the end. you inhaled deeply, feeling the nicotine spread through your body. as you exhaled the smoke, you glanced at the blonde once more.
"you’re saving my life," you said half-jokingly, fully aware of how ironic it sounded.
and that’s how you met Joost. something in the air changed that evening, and from that moment on, everything was different. you weren’t sure if it was his warm smile or the effortless jokes he threw around, but something made you feel different. anyway, whatever began that night, on the cold sidewalk outside the club, was bound to develop into the most wonderful friendship you had ever experienced.
it didn’t take long for you to get to know his friends and each one of them loved you as much as you loved them. you felt like you had fallen into a big, loving family you never knew you were missing, though you never admitted it. they were there when you needed support – whether during a wild night full of laughter and alcohol, or in quiet conversations at three in the morning, when the world seemed heavier than usual.
still, it was joost who was the first thought that crossed your mind when you opened your eyes every morning, and the one who lingered in your thoughts as you drifted to sleep. your friendship was perfectly normal, at least on the surface. conversations flowed effortlessly, from casual jokes to deep discussions that lasted for hours. he was someone who knew how to make you forget everything that weighed you down. he could listen when words failed you.
there was nothing extraordinary about you two, yet you felt that every little gesture – the way he’d fix your hair after you made a joke too stupid not to laugh at, or how he could read the exhaustion in your voice before you even mentioned it – meant more than you were willing to admit.
in his presence, the world became simpler. sometimes it felt like you could tell him everything, and other times, silence was enough because you understood each other without words. at some point, he became a constant in your life, a part of your everyday routine.
that’s why, when you saw him that evening, talking to some girl at the bar, something inside you froze. his smile – the same one you knew so well – was directed only at her. you felt a kind of tightness in your stomach, somewhere between irritation and sadness, something you couldn’t name. your heart started to beat faster, and every second of watching them seemed like unnecessary cruelty.
“damn it” you muttered under your breath, turning away, but the image of the two of them had already burned itself into your memory.
for a moment, you tried to rationalize – after all, nothing had ever happened between you, right? just friendship, only friendship. that was how it was meant to be, how it should be. but the tightness in your stomach, the pang you felt each time he glanced toward someone else, told a completely different story.
you knew you were screwed. it wasn’t that you wanted something to change. it was the unwanted, painful realization that Joost had never been "just a friend" to you.
you returned to the group of your mutual friends, still trying to suppress the emotions that clouded your mind. your face felt as pale as a wall. not looking ahead, you bumped into Apson. he looked at you with slight concern, raising an eyebrow in worry, though his lips still wore a gentle smile.
“hey, y/n, where are you rushing off to? everything okay? you look like you've seen a ghost” he joked, trying to ease the tension that was clearly hanging in the air.
“i'm fine” you quickly replied, trying to sound convincing, though even to yourself, you sounded weak “i think i’m just feeling a little off.”
his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to read something more from your face, but before he could say anything, you already looked away, ready to leave. everything inside you was screaming for escape – from this place, these people, and most of all, from the thought that had started to take root in your mind that evening.
you grabbed your coat and, throwing a quick “bye, everyone” over your shoulder, left the club. deep down, you were thankful Joost hadn’t been part of all this. you wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye that evening.
his smile, which had always made you feel good, now seemed like something you couldn’t bear. besides, what were you supposed to say to him? “you know, Joost, i think i’m starting to feel something for you, but i don’t know what to do about it”? it would be ridiculous. instead, you’d rather just disappear, give yourself a moment to calm down, to understand what exactly had just happened. for now, you didn’t want to think about what awaited you when you’d see him again.
lost in deep thought, you didn’t even notice when you found yourself at the door to your apartment. you turned the key with trembling hands, eager to get inside as quickly as possible. you shut the door behind you, and the tension in your body eased slightly, though the unease still clung to you. you needed nothing more right now than a shower and some sleep. you tossed your coat onto the chair, slipped off your shoes, and thought of nothing but a brief escape from your thoughts.
you stepped under the stream of hot water, feeling the tension finally start to ease. yet, despite everything, deep in your mind, you could still hear his laughter, see her gaze. you felt like you had come to a standstill, trapped in a circle that you yourself had created.
for a moment, you closed your eyes, trying to escape it all, but something inside told you that the night wasn’t over yet. the feeling of unease crushed you from the inside.
you stepped out of the warm shower, feeling a little better. your body craved sleep more than ever before. dressed in the first t-shirt and sweatpants you found, you looked more like a shadow of yourself than someone ready for bed. hurriedly, you entered your bedroom, closing the door behind you. your body was ready to forget about everything, even if just for a while.
you lay down on the bed, closing your eyes and immediately feeling the weight of your eyelids. it seemed that sleep would finally be your escape. suddenly, amidst the silence, a loud sound of the doorbell rang out.
you paused for a moment, as if the sound had pulled you out of your stupor. your heart began to race, and an unsettling thought crossed your mind – someone unexpectedly appeared at this hour. you slowly got out of bed, feeling every part of your body begging for rest, but you knew you had to check who it was.
before you could make it to the hallway, the sound repeated, louder, more insistent. only one person came to mind who could possibly show up at this hour. you cautiously opened the door, and before you could react, the tall blond with a mustache barged into your apartment. you closed the door behind him and turned toward the living room, where he now stood. he looked at you, his face tense. he was angry, very angry.
"it's nice to see you too" you blurted out suddenly, fed up with the strange tension hanging in the air. this was not how you wanted to spend your night.
"what the hell, y/n, what's going on with you?" he replied after a moment. his voice was full of frustration, and his eyes held not just anger, but fear "you walk out of the club without a word, don't answer your phone. i thought something happened to you, damn it!"
his words hit you like a cold shower and the mix of anger and fear made you feel like you were guilty of something you didn't fully understand yet. you paused, trying to calm down, but you couldn't explain why you had disappeared so suddenly. and you had really forgotten to charge the damn phone right when you got back.
"sorry," you muttered softly, though it didn't sound like a real apology "i just… needed to get away."
you couldn't tell him everything. you couldn't reveal your feelings, because you were afraid it would ruin everything. you couldn't lose him.
"you needed to get away?" Joost almost shouted "from what exactly, that you had to disappear without anyone knowing where you were?"
his voice echoed in your apartment, and you felt the tension inside you grow. Joost's words were like blades, hitting straight at your heart. you knew he was right, that you had run away without explaining, but you couldn’t find the right words to explain why. how could you tell him that seeing him with that girl made you want to disappear?
"Joost, i…" you started, but your voice cracked. you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself "i just… felt stuffy. i needed some air."
his gaze became even more intense. there was something in it that made you want to both hide from him and scream everything that had been weighing on your heart.
"stuffy? really, y/n? you think i’m going to believe it’s just about some damn need for air? i’ve known you long enough to know when something’s off!"
you didn’t know how to respond. the truth hung on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill out, but you held it back at the last moment. could you risk everything you had by telling him what was really going on?
"Joost, drop it. it doesn't matter. as you can see, i'm alive, i'm fine, and i just want to go to bed already" you replied evasively.
he looked at you with raised eyebrows. he wasn’t buying your words. in his eyes, there was still a mixture of frustration and concern that made you feel even more trapped.
"don’t try to feed me such bullshit" he said in a lowered voice, but his tone didn't lose any of its intensity "i know you better, y/n. i’m not an idiot. something’s wrong, and you’re pushing me away as if that’s going to change anything."
you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came. Joost stood in front of you, still looking at you with determination, making you feel like you were backed into a corner.
"i’m not letting go" he added, taking a step toward you "so either you tell me what's going on, or i’ll stand here all night."
"great, well, i wish you a good night then" you threw back, wanting to end this conversation before it completely got out of control. you tried to walk past him toward the bedroom, but Joost was faster.
he grabbed your arm, turning you toward him. his gaze drilled into you, intense and full of emotions that seemed too complicated to read.
"we're not done" he said quietly but firmly "you can’t just brush me off like that. not after you left me in the club without a word."
he was so close now that you felt all the emotions you'd been suppressing throughout the evening rise to the surface with double the force.
"Joost…" you began, but he quickly interrupted you.
"i want to know. why did you run away? what happened?" his voice was no longer angry, but rather full of desperation, which gripped you harder than his hand on your shoulder.
Joost looked at you, and his words echoed in your mind like a mantra. there was something in them that broke down all the walls you had so carefully built. feeling like you couldn’t run away anymore, you gathered the courage to look him straight in the eye.
"why?!" you asked almost screaming "what would you do if i told you i couldn’t stay there because… because seeing you with her, at that damn bar, made me want to disappear?!"
his face froze, and his hand slowly lowered from your shoulder, as if each of your words pierced him deeper than he could have predicted. the room fell silent, but in your head, it was loud.
"what do you mean by that?" he asked finally, his voice a shadow of the anger he had earlier, replaced now by something more delicate, more fragile.
you took a deep breath, feeling like there was no turning back.
"that seeing you…" you started, but your words broke "seeing you with someone else makes me feel like someone is ripping my heart out. because, damn it, Joost, i think about you every day, every night, and what i saw today just made me realize i'm alone in all of this!"
the air between you thickened to the point where you felt like you could barely breathe. Joost stood still, and his eyes were filled with something that made you regret your words for a moment. at the same time, you knew you had to say it, even if it meant everything might change.
Joost looked at you with such an expression that for a moment, you hoped what you said would change something. but then his lips twitched, and a mix of regret and uncertainty appeared in his eyes, effectively crushing that hope.
"y/n…" he started, his voice soft, almost breaking. "i- i don't know what to say."
he took a step back, as if he needed space, and his hand rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture.
"you’re one of the most important people in my life," he continued, each word feeling like another sting "but… i just don’t see us that way..."
those words pierced you like a knife. you felt your heart contract with pain, and the world around you seemed to blur.
"i don’t want to lose you" he added quickly, as if afraid that every glance from you meant the end of your relationship "but what you feel… i can’t give you that."
you didn’t know what to say. every word seemed inadequate and the silence between you was heavier than anything you’d ever experienced.
"i’m sorry..." he said finally, his voice trembling, but he couldn’t look you in the eye.
and before you could speak, before you could react in any way, Joost turned and left, closing the door behind him. you were left alone in your apartment, surrounded by a silence that sounded louder than any sound.
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brooke121000 · 12 hours ago
Text
go to sleep, love. • s. reid
warnings: n$fw, f/m, p in v, slight d4cryph1lia, dom!spence if you squint really hard, do a cartwheel and take your glasses off, aftercare! sleepy s3x
summary: wracked with migraines, you wake Spencer up with your crying. Overwhelmed and exhausted, he seeks the easiest possible method to make you go to sleep.
a/n: this did NOT seem as long when i was writing it.
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"ughh-" Spencer groaned, rolling over and rubbing his tired eyes.
you were crying softly, tears muffled into your pillow as your frame shook. Okayy, maybe you were being a tad bit dramatic.
"headaches again?" he murmured.
you nodded, rolling over to face him. enveloped in darkness, your eyes had to adjust to see him, but you were pleased when you did. his face was flushed from sleep, brows knit together and brown curly hair slightly tousled. "yeah." you replied solemnly. "and I can't sleep, at all. I woke you up. didn't I?"
he nodded, unamused.
"oh.. 'm sorry."
"it's okay," his face softened when he sensed how apologetic you were. "it's not your fault. can you sleep?"
your hand on the back of your neck, you shook your head again. he huffed in response.
"at all?"
"no, my head is killing me. You know what i'm talking about."
he sighed. "yeah, I do, but you need to sleep. we gotta go to work tomorrow."
Everything was too much. Your head hurt too much, you were too tired, you were dreading work, and Spencer's tone was much harsher then usual. Like a neglected pot on the stove, all of your emotions boiled over at once and you began to cry once again.
"oh-" Spencer was disheartened at your recurring tears. He scooted over and brought you close to his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. "Please don't cry."
you sniffled. "I'm soo t-tired, i just want to sleep.."
"I know you do," he consoled you. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"...no.."
His next words came in a whisper. "..I could.. you know, try something to help you sleep."
that was enough to stop your crying for a second. sniffling your tears away, you pulled your head up and met his downcast brown eyes. "..what are you suggesting?"
" 'm not suggesting anything. I'm just reminding you, Orgasms release chemicals like Oxytocin and Prolactin, which can lower stress levels and induce drowsiness. They also temporarily reduce the bodies cortisol levels, whi-"
"prove it?" you smiled and cut him off, a little lost for words.
he stalled for a second. "oh... okay."
he quickly got to work, sitting up and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand. you quirked a brow.
"You're putting your glasses on? interesting method of foreplay."
"no, its just- I wanna be able to see you clearly." he cleaned the lenses with the collar of his shirt, slipping them on. "Y'know, when I make you cum?"
you just kind of stared up at him, dumbfounded. it looks like the night brought out a whole different vocabulary in this man. managing an eager nod, you got closer to him.
he slipped under the blankets, and you felt his warm hands on your legs, eliciting a shiver that ran through you like lightning. You were a little disappointed he chose to hide under the covers, but accepted the warmth.
this man wasn't wasting any time. Your already-on-edge nerves felt a string of warm, sloppy kisses up and down your thighs. You slept in only a t shirt and underwear, most nights- including this one, so there was little barrier between you and his lips.
god, those lips.
He considered this quick and anticlimactic, but the little teasing he was performing was driving you crazy. your legs shook in anticipation, and you tried your best not to cry out in joy when you felt his hands hook under your panties and slide them down, down, down, all the way to your ankles- one hand trailing along your leg in this fluid motion.
finally, god, you felt a small, polite kiss pressed to your clit. you practically could have come undone right then and there, if not for a pang of sharp pain hitting your head at the same time, a small 'ah!-" escaping you.
"I know, cm'on. shh." He said from under the blanket, rubbing deep circles into your hips with a free hand.
He licked a lazy stripe up your core, the lightning-strike of pleasure hitting you once again.
"mm- fuck-" you whispered, a quiet plea for only him to hear. He licked another long stripe, patiently anticipating more moans, which he received.
pressing small circles into your most sensitive spots, he eagerly worked you up to the edge. this teasing was driving you crazy, and your breath was quick and harsh.
"spence!" you whined, and heard a groan from him, his grips tightening on your thighs. The tip of his nose pushed against your clit as his tongue dipped and swirled, and you swear your vision went blurry for just a second.
"cm'on-" he murmured.
Your approaching climax was painfully obvious to you, every muscle in your body clenching as he worked magic on you. a hand flew under the covers, intertwining with his hair as a desperate moan poured from your lips. with that, you came, your head flying back to rest against the pillow as your frame shook.
he pulled his head out from under the covers, a smile spreading on his features. "Satisfactory, hmm?"
That was intense. If anything, you were more awake.
"I.. I think i'm less tired."
his brows knit together as he wiped some of the liquid off of his chin, licking his fingers clean for the sole purpose of tasting you.
"ah. I guess you'll just have to cum again."
unable to retort, you simply nodded and watched greedily as he tossed off his shirt, making quick work of his pants and boxers. He captured your waiting lips in a messy kiss, trailing little pecks up and down your cheek. He settled atop you, gazing into your flushed face for just a second.
"I love you." he mused.
"...I love you, too."
he placed more kisses to your neck and collarbone as his free hand aligned himself with your entrance, and you both held your breath. when he pushed into you, feeling your warmth envelop him, you both gasped at the same time.
"fuck-'
'ah-"
he rested his head in the crook of your neck, pushing allll the way inside you. when he was satisfied you had adjusted, he began moving at a punishingly slow pace, butterflies flittering about your stomach once again.
on hand beside you, one on the headboard, he pushed into you again and again, taking up a punishingly fast speed. you simply laid upon the pillow, a moaning shaking mess.
"so, so perfect 'f me, god-" he groaned.
wishing to be somehow deeper inside you, he abandoned the headboard and grabbing your hips, knees planted in the mattress for stability. you put a hand in your hair, a feeble attempt to ground yourself. as if things couldn't get any better, his hand slipped between you two- rubbing fervent circles on your clit, eliciting a string of desperate noises.
after what very well could have been an eternity, you both approached the finish. he gripped your hips desperately hard, his breaths coming shakily.
"oh, my- Spence!"
he buried himself deep into you as you two finished in unison, breath fleeting from your lungs as your head swam with pleasure- and the glaring absence of a migraine.
' "m gonna pull out, okay?"
"mhm- o.. okay."
he slid away and resumed his place beside you. pulling the covers over the both of you and placing a soft kiss to your temple, he sat up momentarily to remove his crooked, now fogged up glasses.
As you came down from your high, the shaking in your legs and the rushing of your pulse calming, you felt your eyelids droop. He pulled you closer to him and left a kiss on your lips, tinged with the soft sting of finality.
"go to sleep, love."
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spiderb00 · 1 day ago
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hey, so you've talked about how jealous or possesive the kats are, or how would they react to a girl being close to their girlfriends.
But how would the kats' girlfriends react in the same position?
I feel like Manon's would be very jealous and FamOut!Y/N would be the chilliest.
(Can I be <3anon?)
This was so much fun to write. btw, welcome <3 anon.
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Manon's girlfriend would be pissed, she knows Manon is attractive and hot, but she won't let anyone get close to her woman.
Most of the time, she can only intimidate the person who is very close to Manon with a look. I mean, the girl is scary, she has a whole style of her own, a lot of confidence and she certainly has enough muscle to fight.
If the look doesn't work, she'll just grab Manon in front of the person who's flirting with her, without any shame. That girl is a complete lunatic, she doesn't care about anyone, she will do whatever she wants.
Famout!Yn is so cool, she usually doesn't get upset with people flirting with Sophia (unless it's a case like that, where the boy was invading Sophia's personal space) She was never convinced, but in this she was.
She was absolutely sure that Sophia would not trade her for someone else, she never saw it happening, just as she never thought about it.
So if someone flirts with Sophia, normally Yn would just put her hand on the Filipina's waist to let the person know that Sophia has someone. If that didn't work, Sophia and Yn would walk away, getting away from the person as quickly as possible.
Now, Daniela's girlfriend was really scary, just one look and people would run for the hills. Daniela was not a saint, she liked to tease Yn whenever she could, and Yn had to deal with her tantrums.
One time, a guy started flirting with Daniela at the Rams game, the guy was in the stands, and even though he spotted Daniela, he kept constantly looking back and smiling, and that was making Yn really pissed off.
Seeing that Daniela was waiting for a reaction from her, Yn rolled her eyes, approaching the Latina from behind and grabbing her waist with muscular arms covered in tattoos, looking towards the guy. Yn almost lost her tough guy pose when the guy widened his eyes and quickly turned towards the game. Things weren't easy for Daniela after the game either, but that's what she wanted from the beginning.
Lara's girlfriend was calm, one jealous person in that relationship was enough. So whenever she saw someone on Lara, she would wait a few minutes and Lara would immediately be grabbing her arm and telling her what a jerk that person was.
Lara was jealous, but she also didn't let anyone get too comfortable with her, so whenever she saw someone getting too close, she would go out and tell them everything as quickly as possible.
Megan's girlfriend just didn't see it, she was so clueless, she could never catch anyone who hit on Megan. She knew her girlfriend was beautiful and that people thought so too, but if someone tried to flirt with Megan at a party or something, she wouldn't react. She would definitely think that the person is being friendly and trying to make a new friend.
The bad thing is that Megan was also completely clueless, so she would also think the person was just being friendly, and would introduce Yn to her like "Oh, this is my girlfriend by the way." and Yn, also clueless, would just reply "Hi, it's nice to meet you."
Megan would say something like "Isn't she cute?!" and start complimenting you, causing the person to back off.
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verystrxxwberry · 2 days ago
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 ELDARYA CHRISTMAS SCENARIOS!
♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: Long scenarios, individual character x reader, fluff, slightly tiny little bit suggestive on leiftan’s part??, sfw and fluff in general :) ↝ 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Merry Christmas everyone!! I’m sorry for posting this quite late, I like to do stuff at the last moment hehe. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this! I'm sorry for any misspellings!!!
♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•. ♪¸¸.•*¨*•.
EZAREL – First snow
The elf had spent several days on a mission, which would result in a nice nap in your room. Because, yes, when Ezarel is tired your bed is much more appetizing than his. While you read to keep yourself awake, Ezarel cuddled one of the many pillows on your bed. You could hear his breathing steady and calm, finally resting after the exhaustion away from you. Time had passed quickly, both for you and for him, and the sun had hid in the horizon. The room was getting darker and darker and for the sake of your eyes you had to turn on the lamp in the bedside table. You closed the book and set it aside, curling up under the comforter next to Ezarel. You felt sorry for him, and how his face had troubling dark circles under his eyes. Taking enough courage to face the cold winter atmosphere, you left the bed and your room, heading to the kitchen. You wanted to spoil Ezarel when he woke up from his not-so-little nap, and that concluded in giving him hot chocolate with marshmallows. You had a hard time convincing Karuto, but he allowed you the luxury of taking two cups since it was, after all, that time of the year in Eldarya.
Once you returned to the room, the aroma of chocolate was enough to rouse Ezarel from his precious sleep. You heard a grunt coming from the elf, who was hiding his head under the pillow he was hugging, as a sign of his awakening. “Oh, I thought you were dead,” you said jokingly, moving towards him. He pushed the pillow away from his arms and rubbed his face wearily, trying to look as awake as possible. “Are you okay?”
With a sigh he uncovered his face and turned his gaze to you, still coming out of his trance. Slowly he nodded. You could see that his hair was quite messy, which was adorable. “The temperatures have dropped...” his voice was hoarse from exhaustion. “What have you brought? It smells too good” He asked as he continued to lie down. He didn't seem to have much desire to get up. Seeing Ezarel so comfortable filled your heart with warmth. You walked over and finally sat down on the edge of the bed, showing him the cups. That was enough to make him sit up. 
“I brought a gift,” you mused with a soft smile. The elf redid his ponytail and hugged you by the shoulders, causing you to almost throw the chocolate onto the bed.
“Ooooh, thank you so much!” He said to you in a firmer, more awake voice. To help you settle in, he made a space in the bed for you, holding his own mug in his lap. You settled in next to him and both of you began to consume the sweet contents of the cup. “That's amazing, thanks for the thoughtfulness, hun.” 
The sweet and savory combination of hot chocolate and marshmallows invaded your mouth, you wanted to melt from how good something hot felt with the temperature so low that day. “Yes it's true that it's quite cold today...” You muttered, covering your lap with the blanket. You got a playful look back from him. And without having time enough to think about what he was up to, you felt something icy on your leg. His foot. With a jump you jumped up, letting out a small squeak, “Ezarel!” Your reaction was all he needed to burst out laughing. “My God, nasty!” you felt a shiver, not only from the cold, but from the fact that a foot had touched your leg.
“Just know that my foot is clean,” he said with a chuckle, watching your body go numb with disgust. “I think if you pull the blind down it will be less cold,” his suggestion didn’t sound that bad. With your free hand, you pulled aside the curtain to lower the blind. But you saw how the streetlights allowed you to see the faint fall of a few white flakes. The ground still retained its orange autumn color, hinting that it was just beginning to snow.
“Ezarel, it's snowing!” You exclaimed instantly, causing some interest in the elf. Somewhat lazily he threw off the blanket and walked to your back, looking out the window.
“Oh, that explains why it was so cold today.” He murmurs and you notice how his hand rests on your waist. His smile widened with affection as you watched the snow fall steadily. “How cute.” He whispered to himself. As the snow continued to fall, slowly accumulating on the ground, you were able to feel his lips press carefully to your head. Ezarel settled small kisses on your head as you continued to admire the snow. “I hope you're not thinking of going outside. You'll get sick.”
“But you have to enjoy life a little, Ez...” You glanced in his direction and watched how he frowned slightly.
“If you couldn't stand my freezing foot, you'll be less able to stand the temperature outside.” He genuinely mocked you, giving your hip a little squeeze. “Let's go back to bed, come on.” 
As much as you wanted to complain about the elf's decision, you knew the most logical and cozy option was to snuggle up next to your boyfriend as you watched the snow fall. Both empty mugs rested on the nightstand, your back resting against his chest while the blanket shielded you from the surrounding coldness. It was certainly peaceful, and the open call of winter. Ezarel's slow, rhythmic breathing against the back of your neck lulled you into sleep. You knew that when you awoke you would find the Eldaryan streets covered in snow.
NEVRA – Under the mistletoe
It was lovely how all Eldaryans had cooperated to decorate the streets with Christmas decorations. Even the headquarters had been decorated and in the center of the hall of doors there was a big Christmas tree.  But still you had not had enough time to admire all the decorations. The work had you stifled, the reports kept coming in, and you questioned whether the work would ever be finished even at this time of year. You wanted to spend it like in your childhood, without school, in bed resting and having fun with your family and friends. Instead, you were there, working in the library without a break. What it was like being an adult now... A soft grunt escaped your tired lips. You were sure that chair was shaped like your butt at this point from the time you had spent sitting there. You stretched your limbs, causing your foot to push the table a little and, as a result, a pen fell to the floor. “Shit...”
“Didn't they tell you to keep quiet in the library?” You heard a whisper from behind you. You looked up to meet Nevra, who was holding a small smile on his face, showing some sympathy for you. His hand rested on the back of the chair. “You look like you need a break.”
“Of course I do...” You sighed, picking up the pen from the floor and looking at the papers you had left to review. Nevra sighed with you, not too convinced to leave you there, exploiting yourself with work. 
“Put this down, darling,” he grabbed your hand, using his other hand to set the pen down on the table, ”come on, let's unwind.” The icy touch of his skin contrasted the gentleness with which he held your hand. With a tug he lifted you out of the chair.
“Nevra, I must finish this...” You groaned, though you didn't have enough strength to stop your feet, guided by him. You walked out of the library, unrestricted by noise.
“Let Kero handle it, he's been spoiling the kids all day.” Nevra chuckled, looking over his shoulder at you. “Have you seen the Christmas decorations?”
“Yes, from afar” you replied, meeting the peak of the large Christmas tree. You descended the stairs and could see that the tree was indeed huge. There were some children with their mothers looking up at the lights with excitement. It was cute. “It's bigger than I expected...”
“I assure you it was bigger.” Nevra's fingers interlocked with yours. “You'll see, in a few days this area will be full of gifts,” he told you with a certain cheerful tone as he pointed to the free space between the ground and the last leaves of the tree. As he spoke he was drawing you towards him, circling the tree slowly, ”there will also be for you. Christmas was not celebrated in my village. The first year here it was mind-blowing, there was a bigger tree, and Karenn got lots of presents.”
“And you?” you asked, looking up at him. Nevra looked thoughtful, chuckling softly and shaking his head. His footsteps stopped in front of the Pantry, his eyes focusing on yours.
“I received gifts, yes - all from my fans.... I didn't like them very much though.” He mumbled, looking up at the ceiling with a weary sigh. “But I know this year my gifts are going to be better. Even if they're not in great quantity, they're going to be of the best quality.” The assurance in his words made you laugh.
“You're too confident.” You said jokingly, poking his arm lightly. With a soft playful groan he looked back at you, then looked away again. 
“To not be, sweetheart, since it seems my beauty has caught your eye,” he giggled even more, nuzzling your chin delicately and making you look up. Oh, the mistletoe... “You hadn't even noticed, huh?”
“You did it on purpose...” You noticed a certain warmth in your cheeks, looking up at Nevra again. You were both just below. His hand slid down to cradle your cheek, using his thumb to gently caress it. 
“No, no way.” With some sarcasm he replied to you, taking a few short steps to close the distance between you. “You're going to be my best Christmas present,” he whispered, not even taking a few seconds to consider if he should. What was clearest to Nevra when he was with you was that he wanted to kiss you. His lips soon found yours, waiting for your response before making them dance together. It wasn't a kiss with any other intentions beyond proving that his words were honest. The love he was conveying through his gentle kiss wanted to make you melt. His other hand held your hip to keep you steady on your feet. 
The moment was so beautiful that you had forgotten the world around you. Nevra's essence was magical and enchanting, it made you feel unique in the world, like no one else existed.
“Fuck, not again!” You heard a growl next to you. Karuto was sick of couples kissing at the door of the Pantry, and God, you were interrupting the passage! It was normal for him to get angry. However, his reaction got a chuckle out of both of you.
“Well, that didn't work out too well...” Nevra mumbled, looking at you with a playful grin, “I hope my gift isn't over.”
VALKYON – Christmas lights
Your boyfriend had been so busy putting up the streetlights that you had barely been able to see him. You knew that going to see the lights with him would be a problem since he might have hated them by the end of the week from seeing them so much. You were surprised that Eldarya also had a Christmas market, but you were looking forward to going! You decided to shower and get ready for when Valkyon returned from the forge. Maybe insisting once with going would be enough, maybe a few kisses could pay for the tiredness of the last weeks preparing the Christmas decorations. This little dragon has a soft heart for you, so it wouldn't be a matter of minutes before he agreed to go with you. Just to spoil you and see you happy.
You heard the door open, showing Valkyon entering along with a yawn. He was used to finding you in his room when he returned, in fact, he openly lent you a copy of his room keys. “Welcome back!” you said enthusiastically, receiving a kind and warm smile. 
Evidently he noticed that you were dressed better than usual. He crawled on the bed until he reached you and kissed your shoulder ever so gently. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, you could smell a certain aroma of metal, fire, wood and light sweat from him, ”what's the occasion?” 
“I wanted to go see the Christmas lights,” the softness in your voice showed your hesitation for his answer. Valkyon was silent for a few seconds, looking at you as he nodded his head, waiting for you to continue. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Sure,” his response was instantaneous, and you were relieved to know he was willing to go. “Shall we go now?” What you liked most about Valkyon was how direct he was when he had something on his mind. He didn't even care that he wasn't dressed up enough, he just wished he could go with you. You stood up and waited for Valkyon to get warm. Together you left the headquarters behind. You noticed the change from the inside of the building to the outside, as the night allowed the Christmas lights to shine. The market stalls were also reflecting lights that coordinated each other's colors. Some stalls were red and some green, some red and some white... It made a cheerful vibe, as well as creatures playing instruments in the sweetest and most talented way possible. The lights that hung from lamppost to lamppost had different shapes, but also accompanied the familiarity of the time.
“Wow, you guys did an amazing job,” you expressed, the hanging lights showing some typical gingerbread cookie figures, then creatures with presents, then Christmas balls, snowflakes.... You could see what a great job they had done the last few weeks. 
“I'm glad you like it,” Valkyon added with a genuinely pleased expression. You walked through the streets, admiring the details the markets had to offer. From books to handmade pendants, from handmade bags to instant food stalls. “If there's something you like, let me know.”
“No, it's not necessary. I just want to see the lights.” You let him know until you finally reached a bench in a more secluded spot that would allow you to see the visual wonder that was Eldarya during Christmas. You took his warm hands to make him sit with you. “The lights look beautiful. But I think you're the prettiest light here.”
Your heart flipped a little at the cheesy words you said, but it seemed to embarrass Valkyon at how pretty they had been. “I beg to differ, you are the light of my life. I have done nothing. You have improved the lives of many people here.”
“Hush, hush. We are both each other's lights,” you laughed at how he frowned in embarrassment. His heart was beating faster than normal.
“Sounds good to me...” he calmed his posture and merely smiled, ”but just know that you look even better than those lights.” He pointed down the populated street, making you laugh at his insistence. As an affectionate gesture you leaned your head on his shoulder, looking at the Christmas stalls. Valkyon also rested his head over yours, sighing calmly.
“I love you,” you hear him whisper. The instruments played by creatures made the atmosphere more romantic between you. Valkyon always had the most direct way to make you feel loved.
“What did you say?” you teased, earning his neutral stare.
“That I love you. I love you very much.” He affectionately held both of your hands.
“Me too, very very much.”
LEIFTAN – Christmas baking
Leiftan has always been a person who prefers to stay in the background. He prefers to listen rather than talk, he prefers to see rather than do. He thought it was adorable to watch you bake, and he was sure that if he joined in, he would destroy the vibes. But this time you hadn't allowed him to watch and had dragged him into the kitchen to make some Christmas cookies. Before he could complain, you both had your hands full of flour as you kneaded the dough into shape. 
“I don't know why you don't do this more often,” you began in an attempt to break the silence, distracting him from the tree shape he was making. 
“What? Baking? I don't think I'm very good at it,” he muttered with an uncomfortable smile. You frowned slightly, seeing your partner's insecurity for most things that required some dexterity.
“Well, you're wrong. You're making some very pretty shapes.” You replied as you pointed to the cookies on the counter that he had made. It was very satisfying to see the shapes of little angels, bells and snowflakes. A small, shy, chuckle escaped his lips, shaking his head. “You'll see that when you taste the cookies you'll melt from how well you've done.”
“Really, love...” he continued to laugh as he finished his tree cookie and placed it on the tray next to the others. “Whenever you want, we can put them inside the oven.” He said to you as he washed his hands of the flour. You finished your little snowman cookie and placed it on your tray, then looked at him and nodded your head. Between the two of you, you placed the trays in the oven, and now it was your turn to wait until they were golden brown. In the meantime, Leiftan was in charge of melting chocolate to decorate the cookies later. 
He was quite a focused person. Only your playful side would bring him out of that shy side to do crazy things. With the spray can of whipping cream you decided to approach him, “Leif? Open your mouth for a second...” the smile on your face went unnoticed, because the blind trust he had in you was.... well, blind. He opened his lips slightly, and it was enough for you to fill the small space with a mound of whipped cream. He opened his eyes widely and swallowed instinctively, starting to cough from shock.
“Love!” He exclaimed between coughs, making you laugh even harder. But poor guy, he was red and all from embarrassment. It took him a few seconds to pull himself together, looking at you with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement. “That's playing dirty...” he muttered and with his thumb he smeared the tip of your nose with chocolate. You made a small gesture of displeasure in jest, reaching for the chocolate with your tongue, which made him laugh. “Ah no, not that,” his thumb sealed your lips so you couldn’t use anything to clean yourself. In a quick gesture you tried to attack him with the whipped cream again, smearing part of his cheek and nose. You stuck out your tongue to tease him, licking his thumb. With a shudder he pulled away.
The kitchen was invaded by your genuine laughter. Moments like that with Leiftan were totally adorable and full of affection.
“You're dirty,” you said as a matter of fact, teasing him and totally ignoring that his hands had left traces of chocolate on your face.
“So are you,” he said in the same tone, taking your jaw carefully and reaching up to wipe the chocolate off your cheeks with little kisses and innocent bites. It made you shiver in a ticklish way.
“Are you trying to eat me?” you teased him, knowing he would be completely embarrassed. But nevertheless he answered you with a little hum, kissing the tip of your nose and finally your lips.
“Maybe,” he answered you with a gentle whisper. This man was going to kill you at any moment. “You'd have to be just as gentle and clean me up.” You couldn't help but get butterflies when he talked to you that way. He still had a trace of cream on his cheek, and there was a long wait until the cookies were ready. You smirked subtly.
“It's my turn to try to eat you then.”
LANCE – Secret santa!
You and Mathieu had decided to revive the Christmas spirit and celebrate a secret Santa the year you came back from the crystal, and it was the best choice ever! It became a tradition to do it every year. This year wasn’t the exception. Many agreed to participate, and you had had a month to get inspired and buy gifts. You were Eweleïn’s Secret Santa and with your budget and all the hints you had obtained from her, you decided to buy her some white earmuffs and a brown scarf. You all gathered at break time in a circle, and all the gifts had been placed in the center with the names of those for whom the gift was intended. The only thing that worried you was that Lance had been too quiet for the last month, and you planned to talk to him if that didn't change during this meeting. However, you could see the anxious and excited faces of some of your mates, even you had a certain adrenaline rush to know Eweleïn's reaction to your gift.
When she held it in her hands you tried to keep your expression as neutral as possible, and a sense of relief came over you when you saw the elf react positively. She realized that it was you who had given her a certain gift because she was giving different hints for her gift to different people.
You were anxious to know what it was that had been given to you and who had given it to you. You watched as Mathieu received gloves from a random girl, as Lance received a coat from Nevra. It was all very friendly, and you were delighted to see that Lance was more cheerful than usual around so many people.
You finally had the gift in your hands. You could tell from the shape that it was a box. You were very impatient to know its contents so you quickly got rid of the paper and, evidently, there was a box. When you opened it you found a box of chocolates, a soft and warm blanket, a book... and another small box? You decided to open the small box only to find a ring and a note that read 
“would you like to marry me?”
Your jaw dropped, realizing immediately that it had been your partner, Lance, who had been your Secret Santa that year. “What? Really?” you whispered in shock. Suddenly the whole circle fell silent, spectating your response. Lance was the one who had been the most anxious during the stay. He nodded his head slowly. “My God...” Still in awe you pulled the ring out of the box, looking at it with a big smile and a twinkle in your eyes from the illusion.
“Are you going to say yes or do we need more time for you to say yes?” Karenn asked, snapping you out of your trance. 
“Of course I am going to say yes. Of course I want to marry you, Lance!” You exclaimed excitedly and the immediate response from the others was to clap enthusiastically. Lance didn't think twice to get up from his seat and embrace you, lifting you a little off the ground.
“Thank you so much… Thank you so damn much..” He whispered over and over again. He gently set you down on the floor and then knelt down, taking the ring from your hands. “May I?” You immediately nodded with excitement, giving him your hand so he could place the ring on your wedding ring finger. 
Once again, the applause began, though Lance ignored it and focused on planting a firm, contented kiss on your lips as a thank you for making that decision. 
“Then the next thing we can do is start planning your wedding!” Mathieu exclaimed enthusiastically.
And without a doubt, saying yes was the best decision you could have ever made.
MATHIEU – Making snowmen together!
It had been very spontaneous of you and Mathieu to go out that night to play in the snow. But what could you do? Your boyfriend was like a restless child from time to time and sometimes dragged you into his bad ideas. Your feet sank into the snow with every step you took, which slowed down your running to escape the snowballs raining down on you from Mathieu. Each one of them hit your back, not hard but not gently either. You laughed, trying to counter him with your own balls, but missing half of them.
“You're really bad at this!” Mathieu said with a chuckle, hiding behind a bench. 
“Don't hide coward!” You exclaimed as you grabbed a large amount of snow and ran towards him. You heard him let out a rather high-pitched scream as he started to run away from you, but you were quick to drop all that snow on him, making him fall. “Now who's the bad one at this?”
“Okay, I give up...” He said with a chuckle, glancing in your direction as he shook the snow off his coat. It has been like half an hour since you both started that snowball war. “Let me rest...” He muttered dramatically as he lay there in the snow, closing his eyes and sticking out his tongue as if he were dead.
“Have you ever thought about doing theater? Because you'd be bad at it.” You jokingly commented to him, placing both feet on either side of his torso. He frowned a little.
“That's envy, I'd be very good at it.” And with a quick movement he grabbed both your ankles, pulling you to fall on top of him. You grunted a little, your hands on either side of his head for balance. With his playful smile he gave you a kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to try to make a snowman?” he proposed, caressing your waist affectionately.
“That's not a bad idea,” you nodded, standing up even though you had started to settle into that position. You gave him your hand so he could get up, shaking the snow off his coat again. You both began to roll the snow, bundling it together and focusing on making balls satisfactorily large enough for your snowman. The first attempt came out a little... small. He named it Max, your son. You used stones to decorate his head. The mismatch between many of the attempts was honestly hilarious. But Mathieu wanted to make a snowman that would last all winter, if possible.
“Honey, let's make one like the… animal crossing one, you know?,” he told you with a proud smile, ”so that even they will be proud of how well we made them.” Mathieu continued rolling up a ball too big for your liking.
“Ah, right... you know it is not going to come to life, right?” you teased him, adjusting the snow to form a medium-sized ball, which could fit the one Mat was making.
“We're in Eldarya, anything is possible,” and he was absolutely right. But when you put the two balls together, nothing happened. However, it was satisfying to see how well it was coming together. “Only the head is missing. I stole a carrot from Karuto for the nose.”
His happiness reminded you of that of a small child, and it was contagious.
“Is that so? Nice, one more reason for him to hate us,” your comment made him laugh as he helped you to form a smaller ball for the head. “I'm going to take care of getting sticks for his arms,” you let him know. Mathieu nodded, taking charge of forming the face to your snowman. You walked away a bit to get some wooden sticks large enough to fit the medium-sized ball. Mathieu was so focused that he was frowning.
“This is the perfect creation,” he whispered, sticking the carrot in the center of the face and putting a hat on its head. He didn't forget about the scarf detail either, even if it sacrificed his neck to the chilly atmosphere. You applauded him, honestly impressed by how well it had turned out for you. But it hadn't come to life.
“Good job, baby! What are you going to name this one?” You looked at him with amusement. Mathieu was taking the job seriously.
“Eh... When it comes to life, it'll decide that for itself.” His pride was evident to hide his lack of imagination at that moment. You hummed, thinking for a moment.
“Let's call him Valky, I think it suits him perfectly.” You commented, adjusting the hat so it wouldn't fall off. Mathieu's smile softened, agreeing with you. Even if he hadn't met Valkyon, he knew the importance he had in Eldarya.
“I'm sure he would have loved to see this.” He laughed, wiping the snow off your own coat. “Do you feel like going to dinner? All this exercise has left me hungry,” proposed the young man with a sweet expression. Your guts were roaring with hunger, too. You couldn't say no to him.
The next day Mathieu got sick from lending Valky the scarf.
✰; remember to reblog and like to support my content, I hope you enjoyed it! Merry Christmas and happy new year everyone!
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jonathancarneswifey · 15 hours ago
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 /
Jonathan Crane
ֶָ˗જ⁀➴ I can hear sirens, sirens. he hit me and it felt like it could kiss, I can hear voilins, voilins. give me all of that ultraviolence
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Pairing - jonathan crane x fem! reader
summary - your professor, Jonathan Crane catches you cheating on the test and decides to teach you a valuable lesson
warnings - degradation, spanking, semi-public act, age gap (reader is in 20s and he is in his late 30s), everything is consensual
Notes - you vote for it, you get it also this is really not a 'smut', I wanted to make this a bit meaningful so I decided to make two parts, consider this as a late Christmas present
Word count - 3.6k
Divider credits to the person who made them
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Exams can be stressful, very stressful if one didn't study and right now you found yourself in the worst possible situation.
you sat in a vast examination hall, the exam hall was suffocatingly silent, rustle of paper and scratching were the only sounds produced in the entire room and to avoid any kind of academic misconduct everyone was seated in a far distance from one- another.
However you stared at the question paper words on it blurring in your mind whilst your mind raced to remember answers but unfortunately you couldn't remember the lengthy answers.
The exam in question was a psychology test paper that your deranged Professor Jonathan Crane held every month.The question papers were tough and nerve-cracking.
Sometimes you wonder if he set this hard papers to traumatize all the students or did he want to derive sadistic pleasure.
your eyebrows scrutinized as you look upon the answering section, you were doing well on the objectives sections you even did good on the case study section until the one where you had to attempt lengthy answers.
you barely remember the answer to any of this, you spent your last night curled up in the bed, watching your favourite crime period show while stressing about this upcoming psychology exam.
you chastised yourself for spending hours simping over the show's main character when you should have been reading the textbook instead.
Fuck this…
your gaze swept across the examination hall, searching desperately for any clues to the answers. Your baby blue eyes finally settled on the class topper seated ahead of you, a flicker of hope sparking in your chest.
Before making a move, you tilt your head slightly, stealing a quick glance at Professor Crane, who is engrossed in marking the attendance. Seizing the opportunity, you prepare to discreetly glimpse at her sheet to cheat the answer.
you move forward to get a better view of her answer sheet making your chair to stir on the marble flooring, you mentally curse yourself.
After a moment, you positioned yourself in such a way, you could cheat off her paper easily to be honest you only needed to copy one or two answers for the passing grade and well you just did that.
Everything was going smoothly by now. you had quickly matched up her speed of writing the answers, the first question was done and you moved to the next one, jolting the words down as fast as you could.
you sighed of relief when you saw the first-half of this particular answer was nearly done and the other half seemed big enough to cover your entire page ,thus, you cracked your knuckles and began copying again.
you were almost halfway done with the answer when you felt an agonizing presence behind you making you freeze in your place. sweat beads formed on your forehead and you could feel your heart beating faster.
The room fell silent as professor crane’s sharp voice cut through the air. "Care to explain what you're doing?" All eyes turned towards you, a guilty expression spreading across your face as Crane’s gaze bore into you.
you swallow hard, forcing down your fear as your eyes drop to the paper to avoid the razor-sharp intensity of Professor Crane's gaze.
This was the worst case scenario, getting caught for cheating, definitely not something you’d imagine but now you got yourself in great trouble because crane was not going to let you go.
His jaw clenches when you refuse to look at him, “look at me” he says, his tone was authoritative enough to make you look up, at him.
his piercing blue eyes darkened with malice as you looked at them with pure guilt. “you were just cheating off from her answer sheet, weren't you?” He points at the girl sitting ahead.
The girl gives you a skeptical look, her eyes sneaking at your answer sheet to see if you really copied of from her paper.
you immediately grip the paper in your hands, “N-no, professor that's a serious accusation and I haven't copied from anyone” despite the fear settling in your chest, you speak in a blunt tone.
your baby blue eyes darted a fiery gaze through his piercing iris’. Crane always had a problem with you, he would always insult your behavior or your grades and the classic, your provocative clothing sense.
He let out a brief sigh before leaning closer to you, his eyes were locked with yours. each second passed with anticipation, clearly the fear of getting caught was written all over your face.
without a word, he snatches the answer sheet from your grip, you gasp loudly at his quick action. “Please, Professor Crane” you plead out in a hope.
Ignoring your plea, he continues inspecting your answer, Crane’s expressions hardened when he compares your paper with the girl who sat ahead, his icy blue eyes darkening as he took in every word of your answers.
Crane's jaw tightened as he finished his comparison, his fingers curling around both papers as if restraining himself from tearing them apart. His cold, calculating gaze snapped back to you, and you flinched under the weight of his judgment.
“Impressive handwriting” his tone was laced with sarcasm, “Though it's remarkable how identical your answers are to Miss Carter's” his lips curved in a cruel smile and the accusation hit you like a punch in the gut.
Your throat felt dry as you stammered, "Professor, I swear I didn't cheat it’s a coincidence” you blurted out. “I studied the same material–”
“Spare me your excuses," he cut you off sharply, his voice a low snarl. "You’re pathetic enough to cheat, and yet you’re even worse at covering it up.”
You swallowed hard, trying to calm the panic rising in your chest. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air.
“How pathetic of you, I expected better” he continued his tone with mockery, “Actually no, I didn't. I know from the beginning of the semester that you don't have potential to study”.
Crane's humiliating words pressed down on you. your heart pounding painfully in your chest. “Believe me professor I-I didn't cheat” you tried to defend yourself, despite everything.
He raised his eyebrows, agonizing fury was displayed on his face as he tried to maintain his composure “There is no room left for excuses left now Miss..” He gritted through his teeths, “but if your willing to still defend yourself then I will just fail you right now maybe even report you to administrative board’’
Your heart raced, the reality of his words sinking in. The severity of the situation clawed at you, and you could feel your world start to crumble under the weight of your failure.
He didn't just see you as a student who had messed up, he saw you as an insolent girl who needed to be punished.
"Cheating, lying, it’s not just an academic violation it's a betrayal of trust. Do you even care about that?”
The shame flooded you again, threatening to drown you in its intensity. You couldn’t meet his eyes.
Crane closes his hands to his chest, his gaze never weaverd instead it grew more piercing, he leans down towards you so now you could feel his hot breath stinging on the bridge of your nose.
“Now we don't want everyone to waste their time in the exam because of your pathetic and irresponsible behaviour” he continued, his tone darkening. “Accept that you have cheated on this exam” .
You could feel the tension between you like a live wire, and despite every ounce of resistance inside you, the truth slipped past your lips. “I… I cheated.”
“Glad you accepted it” he mocked you again, your chest tightened with every passing second, “Do one thing now” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Head to my office and once this exam is over we will discuss your behavior and the consequences that come with it”.
your voice was barely a whisper, laced with guilt and apprehension. "Yes, Professor... I understand." you bit your lip, avoiding his gaze, dread settling in your stomach as you think about the result of your actions
-
An hour had passed and you were still sitting alone in his office, the silence pressing down on you like a weight. The walls seemed to close in with every tick of the clock, your fingers fidgeted restlessly, you had regretted every action, your every impulsive decision which led you trapped in this situation.
Exam was already finished and professor Crane had still not shown up, at this rate. your heart was beating faster while your legs trembled with fear ,what if he really fails you? What if he reports you to the administrative board? That would ruin your whole academic career
you wouldn't let that happen, you were ready to re-take exams or even complete thousands of assignments, hell you would even beg for forgiveness. If that’s what he wants-
suddenly the knob of the door creaks open making your legs press against eachother, the door opens wider revealing his shadow spilling across the threshold.
you didn't dare to lift your eyes, instead your gaze remained on the floor, the only sound produced in this room was the rhythmic click of his expensive shoes hitting on the marble flooring.
Professor crane leaned back in his leather chair, his piercing blue eyes fixed intently on you as you sat nervously across from him.
He tosses your answer sheet onto the cold marble table, Your eyes flicker toward the messy, half-written response, the ink smudged and incomplete reminding you of you failure.
“...It is clear you have no respect for any academic exams for the rules or for my authority” he continued, his tone growing harsher with each word passing. “Did you really think you could cheat your way to passing grade?”
your head hung low in shame, you had no response for his questions. He has caught you red-handed cheating in an exam what could you say to what could you even say to defend yourself.
“Answer me” Professor Crane growled, slamming his hand on the desk, “Do you think you could deceive me? your professor” he asks in a demanding tone, his voice contained pure fury.
you jumped at his outburst, “No- professor I didn't mean to..to disrespect you or the process..I-I am sorry” you stammer.
Crane's eyes narrowed as he noticed the desperation in your voice, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he regarded you with a mix of amusement and contempt.
He stood up abruptly, his chair screeching loudly in the tense silence. In two long strides, he was standing before you, his tall frame looming over your trembling body.
"No, Miss … there will be no second chance for someone like you”. he growled, his voice dripping with disdain. "You've shown me that you can't be trusted to earn your grade through honest means.”
you shake your head in disbelief, your mind raced through numerous thoughts, one being that your academic career is over he will probably fail you and dismiss you from the institution.
His sadistic side dawned up at your miserable state, leaning down he whispers “As a professor it's my job to teach you a valuable lesson right? so you don't use your little tactics to cheat in my class”.
your eyebrows form a knot of confusion, “what do you mean?” you ask him, bluntly this time.
“...you have to face consequences of your behavior, what you did in the exam hall is not tolerable” he closes the distance between you, at this point you could smell his expensive cologne.
The thick air shifts in the room, eroticism of this encounter was practically tangible in the air and none of you tried to ignore it.
“Pardon?” you speak out.
Crane releases a deep breath, gripping the edge of your chair, he says. “I’ll give you two choices, one is I fail you right at this moment and report you to the board..” he lifts his finger to graze your bottom lip, “second choice is, you bend over the desk and take your punishment like a good student”.
Your eyes widen in shock and disbelief at his brazen, inappropriate suggestion. You recoil slightly as his finger grazes your lip, a shiver running down your spine at the intimate, threatening gesture.
"Professor Crane, I..." you stammer, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and confusion. "Surely there must be another way. Failing me and reporting me would ruin my academic career. Isn't there some other punishment you have in mind?
He lets out a dark chuckle, “No. There is no other choice, these are the only two options I have for you”.
you sink your fingers in his desk as you think about the worst possible outcomes of this situation, your mind tells you to deny this but afterall it's a matter of your academic career.
His hand moves to the back of your chair, tilting it slightly as he looms over you. “Make your choice,” he murmurs, his tone cold and menacing. “A failed class would be the least of your worries?” he remarks, his tone was laced with sarcasm.
your throat feels dry, your palms clammy as you weigh the implications of his words. You can feel the room spinning around you, the power dynamic shifting entirely in his favor. And as much as you want to deny it, the spark of something forbidden flickers in your chest.
Your voice wavers as you whisper, “the second choice” It’s barely audible, but Crane hears it. His smirk deepens, and the room seems to shrink around you. There’s no turning back now.
“Good decision” he says, his voice laced with satisfaction. “now, you're completely under my control and if you dare to speak a word about it to anybody else then I won't hesitate to suspend you” his voice dropping with every menacing word he said.
you nod hesitatedly complying his order, “yes, professor Crane..I would not let anybody know about this”. he just hummed in response and gestured you towards the desk
For a minute, you stand in the room with shock displayed over your face, your mind racing with the thoughts about him and about what was going to happen next.
"Bend over the desk, now or I'll make it more unpleasant than it needs to be” his voice was stern, shaking you out of your thoughts.
Professor crane grabs your wrist, his strong grip tightens around you as he abruptly yanks you forward. Before you can react, he forcefully pushes you down onto the expansive, polished surface of his desk. The cold wood shocked your skin, making you gasp sharply.
the cool wood pressing against your flushed skin and the room falls silent, only sound produced was your own ragged breathing and the distant ticking of Crane's watch.
“undo the button of your shorts” he says, his voice commanding enough to make trembling fingers reach the button, which feels a lead weight, “do you want me to do it for you?” he mocks you but his voice even radiating a warning to hurry up.
With a deep, shuddering breath, you undo the button of your jean shorts , the sound of the release echoing in the charged silence, before your fingers could reach your zipper. Professor Crane's hands find the waistband of your shorts with a sharp tug he pulls them downwards with such a force that makes you flinch.
the denim fabric rough against your sensitive skin as he roughly pulls them past your thighs and calves. leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him.
The sudden exposure sends a jolt of shock and shame through you. you feel the cool air of the room caressing your bare skin, a stark reminder of your defenseless state.
your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you realize the extent of your Professor’s control over you at this moment.
you feel the heat of his presence behind, his tall frame casting a shadow over your exposed back, “let's begin your punishment”
his large hand coming down hard upon your tender, exposed bottom. The sharp crack of skin on skin echoes through the room, followed by your stifled cry of pain.
you let out a humiliating moan as he slaps your arse for the first time, a sudden sensation jolted through your entire body.
“Count them for me, if you forget the number then we will restart again” you hear his demanding voice through the thick air of his office.
his hand makes contact with your bare bottom again, the sharp slap on your soft flesh echoing through the room, “o-one” you gasp out of the sudden pain.
“Why am I doing this?” He squeezes your ass with one hand while the other was wrapped around the roots of your hairs.
“Because-” you couldn't find the words to speak, you were drowned in the pain and the pleasure that derived through it. “Because, I disrespected you professor by cheating in one of the exams”
his palm comes down hard on your ass with a sharp slap, making you shiver under his touch, “two” you choke out, fresh tears grazing at your eyelids.
“That's right, you fucking disrespected me, you're getting the punishment that a whore like you deserves” He growls, showing no mercy as he slaps your flesh with adamant force.
“Three” you clench your teeth, biting back a cry of pain as you feel the stinging heat of his palm searing your skin. “Please Professor Crane…it hurts” you cry out.
your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, another harsh spank landed on your soft skin. you release a series of sensual voices as you feel your arousal coursing between your legs. “F-four” you counted out.
“Oh does it hurt?, good” he snarls, grabbing the flesh of your reddened ass in his touch. “this is what happens to sluts who don't follow rules”.
His hand continues your punishment, each slap a brand upon your flesh. The desk creaks under the force of his discipline.
you count out each strike without missing any numbers, concealing your cries out at the harsh impact of Crane's hands, every hit echoing through the air, a dark part of yours manifested intense pleasure.
Crane was ruthless, not giving any time to adjust before landing another sharp smack, soon enough the room was filled with your melodious moans and the harsh contact of eachother's skins.
Suddenly, he hooks his fingers under the crotch of your panties and yanks them down, exposing your dripping cunt to the cool air. "Fifteen" you cry out, your voice breaking as the final slap stings your raw flesh.
“such a needy little whore” he growls, his hands trace your shoulder, tightening his hold around them into a firm grip. with one swift motion he spuns you around, forcing you to face him.
Crane closes the distance between you, His hands moved with practical ease, slipping around your waist and setting firmly on your back.
He grabs your jaw roughly forcing you to meet his mocking gaze, “I believe you have learned a valuable lesson from our encounter”.
you nod reluctantly, “yes.. professor I-I won't make any such mistake or disappoint you ever again”
He raised his eyebrow gauging your hairs behind your ear, mockingly “I do hope so, remember a word about it to anyone and you'll find yourself outside the university”.
when he again receives an obedient nod from your response, he backs away. “Good then get dressed , you can leave then” he ventures, his departing words.
your heart sinks in utter misery. You had braced yourself for many possibilities from this encounter but this was nowhere near what you had envisioned-
“Do you want me to dress you?” he asks, his icy blue eyes piercing through yours as he notices you lingering around his office.
“No I will take my leave” you reply back, trying to be blunt as possible, bending down you look at your clothes to only find your jean shorts
where are your white lace panties? They were one of your favourites but then your mind came up to the conclusion that professor Crane would have probably ripped them off during your ‘punishment’
After slipping back into your clothes, you turned on your heel and started walking out of his office.
“And, Miss…” he calls your last name, pulling your attention back to him, you spin back around noticing his captivating features.
“I want you to retake the exam on this upcoming Friday under my supervision” his voice was again cold and distant.
“of course professor” your voice trails off in the thick air as you turn to leave his office with the hollow ache spreading in your chest.
Crane watches you leave and for the first time the cold blue eyes seem to soften at your leave, did he expect you to stay and beg him to fuck you?
He brushed the thought aside, slipping his hands into his pocket. As he pulled them out, his fingers revealed the delicate white lace panties he had purposely stolen and tucked with himself.
His fingers lightly trace the delicate hem of the lace, feeling the wetness that has soaked the fabric, Crane brings them closer. inhaling deeply, his senses were filled with the lingering scent of your arousal.
Deep down, he knew this wouldn't be their last encounter. He was certain, beyond a doubt, that you would return to him, begging him to fuck you.
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lady-pug · 18 hours ago
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The Ballad of Green Snakes and Honey Badgers
Chapter I - Wherever We Go, A Hundred Eyes Follow
Summary: Aemond seeks you out so you can go on your first study "date" together, but you have yet to speak to Oscar about what happened the previous night and the agreement you made. But as things go better than expected, you might just end up attracting more attention than you'd prefer
Pairing: Slytherin!Aemond Targaryen x Hufflepuff!Tully!Reader
Word count: 3,4k
Warnings: none
Notes: Oof, okay here we are, finally! I wanted to get this done sooner but got caught up in a lot of stuff and ended up writing quite slowly, BUT I did manage to get it out before the year ended so that is that.
I’m quite excited for this story, and have quite a bunch of ideas for where I’m going with this. The only thing I think is worth adding in terms of additional context for this chapter is that I decided to keep the fact that the Targaryens are dragonlords and can ride dragons. But because of that I cannot add any dragons to the Tournament Tasks, as it would be seen as unfair and possibly count as an advantage to Aemond.
Anyway, as always, if you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I’ll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it, happy holidays, and I’ll see you all next year! Enjoy!
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You were fucked. There was no sugarcoating it. You were absolutely fucked.
After Aemond had left the library, leaving you behind to pick your jaw off the floor, you headed straight to the Hufflepuff common room. You were determined to tell Oscar everything that had happened down to a T, but you took one look at him, staring at you with that sweet and hopeful gaze and immediately chickened out, opting to quickly retreat to the girls dorm where he couldn’t reach you.
And now as you headed for breakfast you knew you should have told him. You had agreed to breakfast with Aemond, which meant he would come find you and Oscar would find out you had agreed to Aemond’s stupid plan when you had promised him you wouldn’t. Perhaps it would be easier to search for Aemond directly at the Slytherin table, that way you could stave off the inevitable conversation you would need to have with your brother. 
But he was nowhere to be found. Not at the Slytherin table, nor those of the other houses. Not even near the professor’s table where he would sometimes walk up to in order to strike up conversation with one professor or another (what they talked about was beyond you, no matter how curious it made you). He was absolutely nowhere to be seen, throwing a wrench in your plans to intercept him before he could find you.
Resigned, you walked slowly to the Gryffindor table where Davos and your brothers were already seated. Considering that both Cregan and Alysanne were also seated at their house’s table, quite a few seats down from the three boys, you suspected Kermit and Davos had chosen to seat there for your sake, to simultaneously keep the couple out of your sight and avoid a situation like the night before but also not to force you to stay within close proximity of them. You were thankful really, while Cregan was not the first thing on your mind at the moment it still stung to see them being happy together.
“Hey!” Kermit greeted you, his mouth full of sausage “How are you on this fine morning?”
You knew he was trying to divert your attention from some people, and while it wasn’t entirely working, you were grateful for his attempt, for him. For all of them.
“Eh,” you shrugged trying to appear nonchalant while taking a seat across from him and Kermit “could be better.”
Oscar waited until you were comfortable next to him and had already filled up your plate before leaning ever closer to you.
“So, how was it?” he spoke, his voice low.
“How was what?”
Oscar scoffed, a deadpan stare thrown your way.
“You know, the whole thing with Targaryen?”
Your heart stuttered in your chest, fear gripping at it as you pondered your answer. Oscar was going to be so disappointed when he found out. God, you didn’t want to lose the respect of one of the few people who you had left. You sighed, deciding it was better to tell him now than let him figure it out on his own later.
“Uhm, actually-” you started, but it seemed the universe had other plans.
“Lads,” Aemond’s voice cut you off, your name rolling smoothly off his tongue before pointing to the spot on the bench next to you “is this seat taken?”
He didn’t even wait for an answer, already sliding in next to you way closer than necessary as the boys stared at him flabbergasted, their jaws dropping. Oscar was the only one who got over his surprise quickly, his eyes narrowing in your direction in a way you could practically see the cogs turning in his mind.
“Targaryen.” Kermit greeted coldly “You seem a bit lost, the snakes’ table is over there.” 
“Tully,” Aemond answered in kind, although his tone carried less venom in comparison “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“And what could you possibly want here?” Davos chimed in.
Through their whole exchange you couldn’t properly focus, the feeling of Aemond sitting way too close to you pulling your attention away from the conversation at hand. His leg was flush with yours on the bench, the entire length of his thigh pressed against yours and his shoulder bumping into your own pulling your whole focus towards him.
“We are heading to Professor Orwyle’s class then we are going to study together.” your attention was pulled back into focus as Aemond said your name.
“You two? Study together?” Oscar was still more skeptical than Kermit and Davos.
“Yes,” the Slytheirn boy shrugged, nonchalantly, and for a moment you feared he was going to reveal your whole ruse but he surprised you even further “I promised to help her with her History of Magic studies and, in turn, she’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the Tournament.” 
Oscar seemed unconvinced but let it slide in favor of eating his breakfast in peace, but one glare from him in your direction let you know that you had a lot of explaining to do later on. Your twin and your cousin seemed to get distracted by the mention of the Triwizard Tournament, starting to animatedly argue about past editions (or, in Kermit’s case, sulk, as he had applied for the Tournament and eventually lost the role of Hogwarts’ champion to Aemond, something he was still somewhat resentful about).
You tried going back to your breakfast, hell bent on not attracting any more attention back to yourself and your current incredibly awkward situation, but that quickly went out the window when Aemond leaned even closer to you, his breath fanning your ear.
“It seems Stark and his new girl are staring.” he whispered, and you could tell from his voice alone that his lips were turned up in a smirk.
And true to his word, both Cregan and Alysanne were staring at your little group, more specifically you and Aemond. Alysanne seemed a little weirded out by the whole exchange, but ultimately shrugged, going back to her cuppa. Cregan on the other hand looked positively bothered by the sight, his eyes narrowing even further as Aemond cheekily bumped his shoulder against yours, as if he had simply whispered a funny joke to you.
As much as you loathed to admit, and even though it went completely against what you had told Aemond last night, a bittersweet satisfaction started growing in your chest at the reaction you elicited from your ex-boyfriend. While you didn’t wish to make him jealous, you truly wanted nothing to do with the guy anymore, you didn’t mind shoving in his face that you had already moved on from him, that his actions didn’t bother you at all (even though in reality they did). 
“I would say our little… plan is already working, don’t you agree?” Aemond continued whispering, his warm breath tickling your ear.
You hummed in agreement, finishing the rest of your breakfast in silence. You’d occasionally see Oscar glancing at you quizzically from the corner of your eye but he didn’t say anything else. You felt awful hiding things from him, but what could you do? Come clean to your brothers and cousin and just hope the rest of the Gryffindor table simply didn’t hear a thing? No, the less people knew your little stunt with Aemond was a ruse the better. You’d tell him later that night.
After you were both done eating, Aemond pulled you up and out of the Great Hall, regardless if your brother Kermit, who was usually your partner for Potions class, wasn’t finished yet.   
“I’m sure he can partner up with Bracken for today’s class, can’t you Tully?” he asked, knowing full well your brother truly disliked Aeron on behalf of Davos.
You felt eyes on you all the way down to the dungeons; people from every house were staring at the two of you, the way Aemond’s palm rested on you just shy of the small of your back, pushing, no, guiding you forward. If this was an indicative of a pattern that would remain present the rest of your time together, you just knew it was going to be a long day.
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It was, indeed, a long day. 
During Professor Orwyle’s class the hairs on the back of your neck refused to go back to their usual position, a prickling sensation on the back of your mind telling you everyone was staring at you. And it wasn’t just your self-consciousness making things up in your head: more than once you caught another student glancing your way, quickly averting their gaze once they realized they’d been caught. The only one who was brave enough to keep on staring even after being noticed was Maris Baratheon, and by the glint in her eye you simply knew it couldn’t mean anything good. 
You couldn’t shake the uneasiness that being in the spotlight brought you. And Aemond? He didn’t seem to give a flying fuck.
“Stop fidgeting,” he said, completely unbothered as he led you through the hallways towards the library. The walk had been made even longer than usual for he had to take a detour to grab something from the Slytherin common room, giving other students ample opportunity to continue their scrutiny.
“Everyone is looking at us.” you spoke, voice lowered to try not to attract more attention to yourself.
“No, they aren’t.” he said, walking between rows of bookshelves and collecting an assortment of different books.
“Yes, they are!” you said in an exasperated whisper, trying to keep your voice down in order to not attract any attention from Professor Strong, the librarian (though rumor has it his true ambition was taking over the Defense Against the Dark Arts class over his brother).
“Then just don’t mind them.” he shrugged, turning around towards you and placing the ever growing pile of books on your arms with a sigh “Look, let them stare. The more people see us together, the more believable it becomes. Isn’t that what you wanted?” 
No, that’s what you wanted! you thought, but given your feelings towards Cregan’s reaction this morning you knew he was right.
“Now stop worrying and go find us a table, I’ll be there in a second.” he was off before you could question him further, leaving you to carry the books to the nearest table.
Aemond returned quickly enough, carrying yet another book with him. This one though was unlike any you had ever seen before, its hardcover weathered, either from old age or from excessive use you couldn’t tell.
“What is that?” you nodded towards his hands.
He placed the tome on the table as he sat down in front of you, staring at you quizzically.
“A book?” 
“I’m not stupid, dragonbrain, I know it’s a book!” you snapped at him, offended “I just meant which book.”
He hummed, amused at your snippiness, and pushed the book towards you.
‘Secrets Of The Dark Arts And How To Spot Them, by Archmaester Gyldayn.’ the cover read, and something dawned on you.
“This is from the Restricted Section.” you stated, to which he hummed in agreement, not bothering with a verbal response “How did you even get this?”
Aemond stared at you then, really stared at you, his one good eye settling on your face with such an intensity you had to look away. Something in the way he looked at you intimidated you now, whereas in the past, before, you felt safe under his gaze. Seen.
“I asked Mister Strong to open the Restricted Section for me.” he said casually, breaking his intense stare to flip over the pages of one of the other books he had selected.
“And he did? Just like that?”
His lips curled in the tiniest of smirks, but something about it felt… wrong. Bitter almost.
“The perks of dating his much younger step-sister I guess.” 
Ah. 
That made sense. You always suspected Alys Rivers was related to Professors Harwin and Larys Strong, but could never make the connection. 
“Okay,” he stopped flipping the book, seemingly having found the page he was looking for. You weren’t going to probe any further, but if you had any intentions to, this was his way of signaling the previous conversation was over “We’ll start from the beginning.”
Glancing at the open book he turned towards you, you caught a glimpse of a familiar painting, three white-haired siblings atop their dragons with their wands raised.
“The Conquest?” you questioned, pulling the book from his hands “That’s First Year material.” 
“I know, but it’ll be easier to catch up on the more recent content if you have a stronger base.” he explained, and although all he was saying made sense, it still vexed you somewhat.
“But I already know all of this!” you whined, immediately regretting it, for it made you feel childish. Once upon a time you had been sure he wouldn’t judge you for such a thing, but now? You barely knew him anymore.
“I know for a fact you doze off in almost all of Professor Mello’s classes.” he replied, smugly. 
Something weird, a feeling you couldn’t quite place, stirred in your chest at the thought of him noticing you in class, but you quickly brushed it off.
“I didn’t pick this up from Mello’s class.” you countered, and his face fell for a moment.
Your summers leading up to your First Year were more often than not spent in the Targaryen’s household. At the time you were quite close with two of the white-haired siblings, Aegon considering himself too old for your childish antics and Daeron too young to join in yet. At the time you’d even go as far as to call Aemond your best friend, before Helaena inevitably took the title after… everything. Back then, he’d spend his days showing you paintings and illustrations of his ancestors, of Aegon I and his sister-wifes arriving from Old Valyria and founding Westeros as it was known today. Although the Targaryen family lost a lot of their former glory (even though they remained quite influential still), it was clear Aemond was proud of his roots, a glint in his eye whenever he mentioned most people from his bloodline.
He grew silent, as he couldn’t deny what you were saying. You wondered if you were wrong to bring this up, for you felt incredibly unprepared to open this specific can of worms right now, but it seemed the feeling was mutual, as he grabbed the book from your hands and propped it up on the table, the pages facing him so you wouldn’t peek.
“Alright then. If you say you already know all of this,” he smirked once more, and you started rethinking your choices leading up to this moment “how about a pop quiz?”
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It wasn’t as bad as you were expecting. You managed to get through the whole of The Conquest without fumbling, all the way to when Aegon defeated the dark wizard Harren the Black in his castle, Harrenhal (which some believe was demolished, and Hogwarts was built on top of its ruins). After that point, though, the details started getting a little confusing, your mind jumbling dates and locations into an incomprehensible mess inside your head. Aemond then promised to help you study from then on out, little by little, three times a week.
“We have till the end of the year to turn you into a History of Magic expert,” he had said.
“Till Christmas, you mean.” you pointed out, remembering your previous agreement, to which he shrugged, humming a ‘whatever you say’ under his breath.
You started collecting your things, but paused when he didn’t follow suit, only picking up another book from the pile. Herbology.
“That’s certainly… an interesting selection.” you commented, only now noticing the different subjects all the books covered.
“I have some research to do.” he said, not taking his eyes off the page.
Something he had said earlier came to the front of your mind.
“She’ll help me brainstorm ideas for the first task of the tournament.” 
“Is it about the first task?” you questioned, genuinely curious.
He hummed in agreement.
“Do you have any idea what it will be about?”
He shook his head with a sigh, finally looking up at you.
“I do have a hunch, but it’s fickle. A hypothesis really.”
“Do you need any help ‘brainstorming ideas’?” you quoted him.
He chuckled, amused. 
“Next time perhaps. You did well today, you deserve your rest.” your cheeks felt warm under the praise, and you had to look away from him for a moment “But I will be taking you up on that offer. If I remember correctly, you used to be quite good at solving puzzles.”
It was strange, really, how much he still knew about you even after so long without speaking to one another. You’d have to get used to it again.
After saying your goodbyes you headed back to the Hufflepuff common room, a light feeling in your chest. The ‘study date’ had gone well, not at all as bad as you had predicted it would be, unashamed stares from other students aside. But then a cold, bitter guilt replaced that nice feeling, damping your mood slightly.
You had to tell Oscar. He deserved to know.
Feeling determined, then, you entered the common room, resolute in looking for your brother. But, (un)fortunately, you didn’t have to look very far, for you found him sitting in one of the couches facing the entrance of the common room, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.
“How was your study date with Aemond Targareyn?” he questioned, his voice hard.
Panicking, you gripped his upper arm, not minding his yelps of pain as you pulled him to a distant corner, away from the other students.
“It wasn’t a date.” you hissed.
“No?” his voice held a hint of sarcasm “Because Kermit said you two were awfully close in class-” 
“It wasn’t a real study date.” you interrupted him, keeping your voice down and mentioning for him to do the same.
“How so?” he still seemed mad, but at least now he was whispering as well “You just pretended to study?”
“No, the studying part was real.” you averted your eyes from him, scratching the back of your neck in embarrassment “It was the date part that was fake.”
“Again, how so?”
Time to come clean.
“Yesterday Aemond asked me to…” it sounded stupid now that you said it outloud “pretend we’re going out together. And it will culminate in me being his date to the Yule Ball.”
“What?!” he squeaked, and you shushed him, worried about people overhearing your conversation “So he wants you to be his pretend girlfriend?” 
“Something like that, yeah.”
“And you agreed?!” 
“I panicked, alright?!” you already felt stupid enough about your decisions without him scolding you like a child.
“What does he even get out of this?” he asked, exasperated “And what about Alys Rivers?”
“His admirers backing off, I think. And apparently they broke up over summer.” his jaw dropped “I know, surprised me too.”
His face softened a fraction, finally getting over the shock.
“And what’s in it for you?” his tone dripped concern, and you felt your heart clenching with love for your younger brother.
“I-I’m not sure, exactly. To show Cregan I’m no longer hung up on him? To prove to people I’m not pathetic?”
“You are not pathetic.”
“Sometimes feels like I am.” you shrinked into yourself a bit “You know how much it hurt.”
Oh, he knew. He was the one who found you after you had read Cregan’s letter, curled into a ball on your bed, clutching the roll of parchment to your chest as tears steadily ran down your cheeks. 
“I know.” he placed a gentle hand on your arm “But do you think this is a good idea? This is Aemond Targaryen we’re talking about.”
You smiled at his worried face, ruffling his hair.
“I can look after myself, you know.” you grinned at the grimace that covered his face as he tried to fix the mess that you had made of his locks “It wasn’t all that bad today. And besides, it’s only until Christmas.”
He still seemed hesitant, but slowly nodded.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful with him.”
Your grin softened, pulling him in for a comforting hug.
“I promise.”
He squeezed you back and you knew everything would turn out okay in the end. You just had to endure it until Christmas. 
Right?
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