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anachronismstellar · 2 days ago

Note

May I suggest a lady beast peak lord (handles beasts of burden and livestock + whatever the fuck LQQ drags home that's still alive) for the achievement ?? Possibly with the name Wu Qingfang?

And here we are, welcome my friend to the possession of Airplane, we can't escape him and he can't stop mixing up his peak lords, apparently DUSHSKDJSKD

And the moment I've seen your ask I fell in love with her aaaaa a woman that takes no shit from all the other lords PLUS can handle Liu-shidi nonsense? HELL YESS HERE WE GO

BTW thank you for her lovely name! :D I hope you like her as much as I enjoyed writing this!

Another thanks to everyone in this post that helped me with the name for the Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare creature, you guys are amazing! ❤️

The peak name I've borrowed from @00janeblonde's fanfic FAQ that you can find here!

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One curious thing that might pass unnoticed by many was the proximity of An Ding peak with Ling You peak. After all, there was no logistics without the transportation, and there was no transportation without animals to pull carriages.

There was also the feeding of the entire Sect. All the dairy, the eggs, and the meat were under Ling You peak responsibility, while the logistics to who sent what fell under An Ding scope.

So Shang Qinghua walking around Ling You peak was a pretty common sight, especially when he had to bring a gift or another when one of the An Ding disciples fucked up a delivery.

It was one of those days, apparently, because Wu Qingfang had barely set foot outside her private quarters when Shang Qinghua turned up on her path, a pile of paper in one hand, a basket on the other, the suspicious smell of honey filling the air, making her stomach grumble.

"What did you do?" she didn't hesitate to pass by him. She had spent the past night organizing a hunt to find a batch of goats that had escaped their sheds after a disciple with their head on the clouds had left the latch lose, she was not in the mood for more trouble.

"Can't a Shixiong visit his favorite Shimei?" he turned on his heels to follow her, making the pressure on Wu Qingfang's head get tighter. Whatever it was, it was bad for him to bring bribes so soon in their little game.

"Oh please," she sent him a glare over her shoulder. "Everyone knows your favorite is Mu Qingfang, don't play coy with me."

"Okay, yes, he is my favorite shidi, but you are my favorite shimei!" he insisted and with quick steps they were walking shoulder to shoulder, the basket filled with sweets being swigged back and forth in front of her. "Wu-shimei please, I swear is not that bad, I just need to send a carriage to Hua Hua palace-"

"Hua Hua- Why?!" The sound of her shoes scraping the ground was too loud for the soft morning, but she couldn't help to turn around and stare at him in surprise. A tripe long like that would take weeks to prepare! "What could you possibly want with those people?!"

And she hated that it kinda worked when he blinked his big brown eyes at her, pulling back the cloth covering the basket, the sweet scent of melon making her mouth water. She squinted her eyes at him, too stubborn to let him win so quickly. Especially when the last time Shang-Shixiong had pulled a stunt like that, she had lost three good horses.

"A little bird told me that they got their hands on a very rare flower, and I need it for Shen-Shixiong-"

"Oh I see how it is," she rolled her eyes, turning her back to him again to keep walking to her office. "You fucked up and now you want my help to get back on his good graces."

"Shimei, pleaseee," he whined, pouting so hard it was a miracle his lips didn't get stuck like that. "I miss our go games and I even don't know why he's so angry at me!"

She snorted in the most unlady manner, rolling her eyes. She knew damn well what he did, in fact the entire Sect did. Or better, who he did. But if Shang-Shixiong was going to play coy, she wasn't going to be the one to burst his bubble. And with a glint in her eyes she took a sharp turn to the left, away from the main building. He wanted to pull this nonsense on her? Fine. He might as well fight for it and help her take care of a very special animal first.

They arrived at the stables after a few minutes of walking and Shang-Shixiong whining about his very hard life. Wu Qingfang ignored it all, taking the papers and basket from his hands to shove an apron on his arms, feeling a little smug to see him fumble to not make it fall on the ground.

"I'll think about it, first you have to help me with her," she said as she pointed her thumb at the last stall where a huge form laid on its side. It was one of the few stalls that had iron bars all over, looking more like a cage.

"Uh." Shang Qinghua took a cautionary step back when he noticed the huge beast behind bars, a nervous chuckle escaping his throat. "What- what is that?"

The that in question had the form of a huge hare, the size of at least two tall men when standing on its feet. It could run on his lower legs and use its upper paws to punch and attack. It was a ferocious thing with poisonous fangs and claws, with a thick fur that shined brown during spring and pure white during winter.

It was one of the most beautiful beasts Wu Qingfang had ever seen, and she wished she could hug it until it made noise.

"Oh she is a Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare!" she said after a quick pause to decide where put Shang-Shixiong's things, dropping it on top of a block of hay before grabbing an apron for herself. "Liu-shidi said that she attacked him on his last hunt, but she was already too hurt. So he brought her to me to see if I could help."

"I-Is it safe for her to be here?!" Shang Qinghua squeaked, hiding behind one of the empty stalls.

"Oh, dont be silly, she's sweetheart!" Wu Qingfang gushed as she opened the stall, pulling Shang-Shixiong by his wrist. "Come, she's still sleeping from last night meds, and I need to change her wrappings."

He stared at her as if she had gone mad. She didn't mind thought, she knew that the only other peak lord that shared her enthusiasm for animals was Liu-shidi.

With needles ready, she let go of Shang Qinghua to puncture the beast in the right places to keep her sleeping. After that was just a matter of checking vitals, cleaning up her wounds, and applying some salve. By the look on her belly, she might have a litter soon, so Wu Qingfang wanted to release her before she gave birth, or the little stall would be too cramped. Not to mention how protective the mother would become, too dangerous to be kept.

Surprisingly enough, when he realized the Kicking Hare wasn't going to wake up and eat him, Shang Qinghua was really helpful. He wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty, only making a funny face when the Hare's belly moved when the babies adjusted themselves.

They worked quickly, and in no time Kicking Hare was all wrapped up in clean bandages, the soft smell of salve mixing up with alcohol and wet fur. They put the aprons away, and Wu Qingfang was satisfied enough with Shang Qinghua's help to consider his request. And she was ready to get her sweets and tell him that she would help him with Shen-Shixiong bad humor when-

A loud noise of something extremely heavy hitting the ground reached them both making the stable walls tremble, followed by a grunt that Wu Qingfang would recognize anywhere.

They stepped outside to meet Liu Qingge next to a huge type of lizard, covered in dirt and blood.

Wu Qingfang didn't even blink. After Shang Qinghua, Liu Qingge was the other peak lord that would barge into Ling You peak as if it were his second house, but for entirely different reasons. Usually involving huge monsters laying dead in front of Wu Qingfang's doors, ready to be butchered and harvested. Or, like Long-Leg Kicking Pouch Hare, he would bring life beasts, creatures that gained his respect for being good fighters. And Wu Qingfang would care for each of them before setting them back to freedom.

Interestingly though, she didn't remember any other occasion when they have met each other in her peak. Which meant she had never seen them interacting outside peak meetings before. Not to say she couldn't notice how hard Liu-shidi was blushing, doing his best to fix his ponytail, while Shang-Shixiong looked at him from head to toe, his qi warming up the air around him.

Men, as subtle as a thunder hippo in a storm.

"Shidi," she stepped in front of the War God, forcing him to look at her. "What brings you here so soon?"

Having being snapped from whatever was his glaring contest with Shang-Shixiong, he went back to his practical self, hands on his back with feet parallel to his shoulders in a ready stance.

"I came here to deliver my last hunt and request Wu-shijie to lend me her tools so I can clean it up."

"Is that a Southern Fire Komodo?" Shang Qinghua approached the creature, staying a good few steps away from it just in case. Although it looked pretty dead by the pool of bright blue blood coagulating around it.

Apparently Liu-shidi was able to control himself this time, only his very visible ears turning beet red as he shuffled his feet. Still he made himself nod at Shang-Shixiong's question, then going on to explain what were his plans for the skin and the meat. It never ceased to amuse Wu Qingfang how Liu-shidi would eat everything he hunted down, at least once.

It gave Mu Qingfang several white hairs, so it made her giggle a little too much.

"- and for the bones I was thinking of using it to craft into a staff. They're very strong."

"You should give some to Wei-Shixiong, I bet he could carve a nice handle for a sword out of it."

"I hate to interrupt the flow of ideas, Shixiong, Shidi, but to make it all happen, first you have to harvest it," and she was being sincere about it, the past minutes have been fascinating to watch Shang-Shixiong get closer and closer to Liu-Shidi as the War God puffed out his chest like a proud bird showing off his catch. "Come, Shidi, I wasn't expecting you, so I have to see if Wen Rong has finished using my knives."

"I better get going then," Shang Qinghua turned to give her a little bow, batting his eyelashes at her one last time. "Will shimei consider my request?"

"I'll return your basket with my answer, Shixiong," she smiled sweetly at him, going to join Liu-shidi who was already a few steps ahead.

The sound of hissing made the three peak lords freeze, and the sound of whipping made them jump into action, hands going to their swords. But even on the brink of death, the Komodo creature was faster than lightning, using its tail to sweep at the cultivators with vengeance.

Actually, sweep at Shang Qinghua, the one close enough to be hit by it.

The following seconds seemed to pass as if they were under a slowing spell. There was a whizz on Wu Qingfang's ears as Shang Qinghua jumped on his sword to fly over the Komodo's tail. When she thought she would be able to catch her breath, Shang Qinghua grabbed the handle of his blade, twisting his body in a flurry of fabric, using his weight to stab the creature right on its belly. Blood splattered everywhere, painting yellow An Ding robes in electric blue as Shang Qinghua dragged his sword all the way to the Komodo's neck, the warm stank of viscera hanging in the air.

"Holy shit," she heard Liu-shidi mumble next to her, snapping her out of her surprise.

"Shixiong!" She screamed as she rushed towards him, almost slipping on all the blood. "Shixiong are you okay?!"

"I'm fine!" the squeak came from somewhere next to the head of the beast, so Wu Qingfang went around the mess to avoid dirtying herself as well. She found him lying on the ground, an arm covering his face while his other hand grasped firmly on his sword, the blade so deep inside the creature she could barely see the handle.

"Shidi! Go call Mu Qingfang-"

"Nooo!" he went to pull her robes, cursing as he realized that he had messed up her clothes. "Shimei, no, please, I'm fine, promise!" and to prove his point he stood up in a quick jump, giving her a twirl. "See? Nothing broken, not even a scratch! Please don't bother Mu-shidi, please?"

And once again he blinked his big brown eyes, and even though he was drenched in blood, she couldn't help but sigh.

"So uh..." Liu-shidi said after cleaning up his throat, pulling their attention to him. "Should I call Mu Qingfang or...?"

And in a snap of fingers, Shang Qinghua took over the situation, putting himself between Wu Qingfang and Liu Qingge.

"No need, no need, Liu-shidi. Why don't you go fetch Wu-shimei's head disciple to grab her knives and take care of this mess?" He said as he put his hand on Liu Qingge's lower back, gently moving him away from them. "I'm fine, Wu-shimei will let me clean up and she will keep an eye on me, won't you, shimei?"

She seriously considered shoving him back on the puddle of blood, just for putting her on the spot like this. But she apparently had a case of weak knees when Shang-Shixiong dropped his voice all honey sweet.

She couldn't let him find out or she would be in serious trouble.

"Right, please Liu-shidi, go talk to Wen Rong, he will help you. I'll take care of Shang-Shixiong in case the blood has any poison."

Shang Qinghua kept nodding his head like a silly doll but lowered his voice to mumble something on Liu Qingge's ear along the lines of "I'll teach you later." Wu Qingfang couldn't see Liu-shidi's face, but she could see the back of his neck red as peppers.

"Shixiong," she called with a wave of her hand, pausing only to get his things left in the stables to guide him towards her private quarters. On the way, she pulled a disciple to request a bath and clean clothes.

It took a few minutes to get everything ready, time that she used to examine Shang Qinghua's eyes and tongue, checking for any signs of poisoning. She found nothing, but better safe than sorry.

"You bath is ready, go," she gently shoved him to the next room. "The clothes are there as well, if you feel anything scream. Understood?"

"Yes, shimei," he said with a smile over his shoulder. Then it was a game of waiting, with Wu Qingfang pretending not to be worried sick while Shang Qinghua took his sweet time. To occupy herself, she went over her cabinets for all types of antidotes she could find, on top of requesting at least three types of tea. It wouldn't hurt to be prepared.

Honestly, she was about to bust into the room property be damned when he finally stepped out.

She had misjudged his size entirely. The robes were too small, the fabric taut over his shoulders, the tight sleeves of her peak uniform showing off strong arms capable of carrying weights upon weights all day. No wonder his sword had cut thick scaly skin like butter.

She refused to lower her gaze to his legs, forcing herself to stare at his face framed by his wavy hair. She had only seen it down at formal peak meetings, even so the strands had been pulled away from his face.

He looked younger like this. Softer.

"This Shixiong thanks his shimei for her hospitality," he said with a formal bow. "I hope you don't mind me being so forward, but I used a bit of your hair oil."

"Not- Don't worry about it," she blinked several times, trying not to think of him dressed up in her colors and with her perfume all over him. She was the Beast keeper but she wasn't a beast herself! She had self-control!! "Come, I got you some tea, and some pills for you to take, just in case."

Shang Qinghua didn't say anything, letting himself be fussed over, eyes crinkling in a poorly hidden smile. See if she gets worried about him again!

And to knock the smile off his face she decided that a little needling would do him good. "I didn't know you and Liu-shidi were intimate," she casually dropped as her form of petty revenge, doing her best to appear innocent as Shang Qinghua choked on his bitter tea.

"Who- What? No, uh, we just-"

"Shixiong," she made an effort to say it as kindly as possible, to show him she wasn't going to tease him. Much. "You are aware the entire Sect has eyes, correct?"

"O-of course I know that, what type of question-"

"So you know everyone already noticed you getting Sect Leaders left and right wrapped around your fingers. Right?"

He coughed a bit more, eyes so wild she was afraid they might pop out of his face. He opened and closed his mouth like fish, his blush making her want to squeeze his face.

She took a sip of her own tea, nothing like the nasty dirt water Shang Qinghua was being made to drink, as she considered how to break down the news to him.

Should she be the one to tell him about his reputation? Or should her just mention how the head disciples were running a ridiculously high bet on who would be the next Peak Lord to fall for Shang Qinghua charms? It was tempting to let him figure it out for himself…

Or.

Or she could get herself a little something out of the situation as well.

"Shang-Shixiong,” she sighed as she put her cup down, crossing her hands over her lap as she gave him a look up and down. “I know your friendship is not as deep as yours with Mu-shidi,” she couldn't resist giving him a knowing look that made his blush deepen and avoid her eyes. “But I consider ourselves friends enough that I can speak plainly.”

“... O-Of course, shimei.”

“Good. Now, with all due respect, for the past year or so I've seen you flirt your way to get Zhangmen-Shixiong and Shen-Shixiong into having a calm discussion without tears and blood for an hour. It’s also worth mentioning how things have been less explosive on Wan Jian peak, and!” She raised her voice slightly the moment he opened his mouth to protest. “I’ve just seen you pull Liu-shidi by his waist. And he seemed to like it.”

He scratched the side of his face, once again looking everywhere but her eyes. She knew he wasn’t embarrassed, she had seen him truly embarrassed before, but she could see he didn’t know what to do with her knowledge of his romantic affairs.

“I’m not scolding you, I hope you understand that,” she said after a quick pause, ignoring the tug at her heart when he turned his big puppy eyes at her. “I’m just wondering what you are trying to achieve with all this… And if you would be interested in joining the betting poll.”

That made him snap his eyes back at her faster than Shen Qingqiu opening his fan to ignore Zhangmen-Shixiong. “Wait, there’s a betting poll?”

“Oh Shixiong…” she tsk at his lack of foresight, shaking her head slightly. “Of course there’s a betting poll. This has been the most exciting thing to happen since last recruitment.”

He let out a small “Huh” of surprise, crossing his arms (crossing his arms which she was not looking at, definitely not- as he bit the corner of his thumb. He got quiet for a good while, eyebrows frowning as his eyes darted side to side in the face she had seen him doing when he got caught trying to figure out big numbers.

“Before you ask, I’m not going to give away my mole,” she said as she popped one of the small cakes he had brought her that morning, the crunchy melon seeds mixed with honey giving her something delicious to chew on while he scrambled to figure out how all that had happened behind his back.

“Okay, fair. But, Shimei, what exactly is everyone betting on?”

“A couple of things,” she took another small cake, amused as he leaned forward, as if she was about to tell him the hottest gossip he has ever heard. Technically it was true, so she couldn’t blame his curiosity. “There’s a bet about you sleeping with all the peak lords and ladies. That one is not as high as it could be because, well, it’s known that some peak lords and lady wouldn’t be interested. And then there’s a second bet, involving who is the next peak lord that is going to fall for your tricks-”

“Tricks?! I’m not-”

“Shh, and there’s another one about when is Mu-shidi going to actually confess his love for you and stop your flirting ways-”

“Now, hold on for a second-”

“And finally there’s a bet among a select group of Peak Leaders on who is going to seduce you before you seduce them.”

“Oh my Heavens. Is this Wei-Shixiong doing? It has his fingers all over it, I can feel it.”

“I don’t know, Shixiong, but between the two of us, you would be the one knowing how Wei-Shixiong hands feel, I guess.”

“Shimei!”

She just shrugged, unbothered by his hypocritical sense of shame. “Do you want to get your carriage to Hua Hua palace or not?” she asked before he could start scolding her. Not that would do much, she had seen him too many times out of his mind after spending weeks without sleep to take him that seriously.

He paused, biting the corner of his lip, and if she squinted her eyes hard enough she would see his brain working the pros and cons.

“Okay, what do you suggest?”

She clapped her hands to clean the crumbles out of her fingers, giving him a honeyed smile.

“You help win one over Wei-Shixiong and spread the rumor that we are going to spend a lot of time together. Then Wen Rong will bet on my name next round. In exchange I will get your carriage to Hua Hua Palace so you can jump back on Shen-Shixiong bed.”

“Hmm…” Shang Qinghua kept playing with his empty cup of tea, wobbling it left and right. During her little speech he kept stealing glances of her, head tilted to the side. She was starting to get nervous, reaching for another cake just to do something with her hands when he grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her hand closer, eating the cake from her fingers.

Her entire brain went blank and suddenly she could only smell honey, jasmine and the bitter tea from his cup, her heart stuttering to a stop.

“Isn’t shimei curious, though?” he asked against her thumb, licking the crumbs on it before kissing the palm of her hand. “Shimei has called it so many things, tricks, spell… Even so, I have seen shimei looking at me after my bath…”

She should stand up and send him away, money and pettiness damned. Yes, they have been flirting for the past months, but she refused to be just another mark on his list. She shouldn’t be considering his shameless suggestion but a voice that sounded suspiciously like Wei-Shixiong whispered in her ear that if the rumor was to be out and about, why not have a taste of the real thing for herself? Why not enjoy the strength of his hands on her waist like Liu-shidi did just hours before, why not push him to his limits and see what he was capable of?

It was as if he was reading her mind, because Shang Qinghua wasted no time in pulling her hand closer, kissing the inside of her wrist. He kept pressing soft kisses up her arm and when the table got in the way he slid it to the side so he could pull her by her waist, moving her hair to the side so he could caress her cheek, giving her no time to think, no time to breath-

“Tell me, Shimei, was it jealousy in your eyes when you saw me touching Liu-Shidi? Did you want it to be you?”

She wanted to scream no, because she didn’t! She really didn’t!! But she couldn’t deny how she wished he had lowered his voice to her, making promises of later encounters.

But to admit that would be giving in too easily.

“One cannot be jealous of one that doesn’t belong to them, Shixiong,” she made herself say instead, keeping her eyes forward to not fall for his tricks, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a gasp when he pressed his nose against her neck.

“Oh, is that it? Do you want me to belong to you, Shimei?” and then he dared to kiss her shoulder over her robes. The heat of his mouth hadn’t even touched her sensitive skin and she was already trembling, mouth dry. “So does it make you happy to see me in your colors? Or maybe is the scent of your perfume all over me that makes you shiver?”

Oh he was a demon. He was a demon that knew too well how to read her, how to make it impossible to not fall into temptation. She looked at him, swallowing dry at the sight of his hair curling softly around his face, still wet from his bath. And those damned soft brown eyes, staring at her as if he could see her desire written all over her soul, the most annoying smirk on his lips. She wanted to bite, she wanted to squish his face until he was pouting again, she wanted for him to pin her down, she wanted to fight him and lose-

He pounced and she let herself be caught, tangling her hands on his soft hair, pulling him closer until he was pressing her down the floor. He moved as if he needed to devour her entirely, biting and sucking the thin skin of her throat, marking her just like she wished to mark him.

“S-Shixiong-” she gasped, her hands going down on his back, nails catching in the folds of the fabric as she desperately tried to hang on as he bit down her clavicle hard enough to sting. He licked the bruise on her tanned skin and she melted, a sigh escaping her lips as he pushed her robes to the side, scraping his teeth over plump skin, teasing a bite that never came, both of them pausing at the loud sound of fabric being torn apart.

“I think-” Shang Qinghua said against her chest, voice muffled by her robes. “I think I just ripped my pants.”

A giggle bubbled out of her lips as she realized the ridiculous situation they were both in. And it should ruin the mood, laughter filling the air instead of the previous moans, but she realized she actually liked the lightness of it. It was mostly for the bet but it was fun, especially when she noticed his warm smile as he admired her with mussed up hair and ruffled clothes.

“Now, I would love to make good on my word here and now, but I believe my favorite shimei deserves a better treatment than her office floor where anyone could walk on us,” he said as he took her hand again, biting the tip of her finger.

“I think I agree,” she answered with a gasp and a nod, carefully taking her hand away from his mouth to sit down and pull him to a sweet kiss before dragging him to her rooms, their laughter becoming moaning once more.

—------

“Ye Ling.”

“Wen Rong,” she gave him a nod, not bothering to raise her eyes from her thick notebook filled with notes, not even when he set a big bag of coins next to her wet stone.

“I came to make a bet.”

Still she didn’t look at him, putting her brush down to open the bag and count the money. She did raise her eyebrows at the amount, though. This might have been all his savings. Or he had a patreon.

Considering who his shizun was…

“Betting on your own peak lord or lady is against the rules.”

“What?! But Ming Fan made a bet on Shen-shishu three days ago!”

“And then he was made to pay back all the money he won when I found out he had set Shen-shishu to have a private meeting with Shang-Shizun.” She said as she pushed the money back on his bag, dangling it in front of him so he could catch it. “Hence why we made the rule. Don't blame me, blame Qing Jing peak for not being smart enough.”

Thank Heavens he didn't try to fight, grabbing his pouch and turning around to leave the small room she had been using as headquarters for her operation. More like a closet, actually, she thought as she glared at the broom resting next to her on the wall.

It was his heavy footsteps that made her look up again, frowning at the other head disciple.

“Shidi, rules are rules-”

“I want to make a new bet.” And she could see by his own surprised look that he was bluffing. She felt a twitch of pity for him, Wu-shishu was a scary woman, to go back to her with empty hands would be the same as asking to clean the stables for months.

“I want to bet on him finding out,” he kept talking and the mere thought of it sent all her hairs up. She would be in so much trouble it wasn't even funny, she would be so dead Shizun would send her to work on a faraway farm and-

“Do you know something?”

“I don't know,” he crossed his arms, too smug for someone who had been just sent away with their tail between their legs. “But I need to make a bet and this is my choice. I bet that Shang-shishu will find out about the bets before next month.”

She wanted to say no, to send him away again, but that would be the same as calling herself a coward. She glanced at the pouch on his hand and then at him, giving her brush a good bite before sighing in defeat.

“Alright, one bet in the name of Wen Rong: Shang Qinghua will find out about the betting before next month. Your bet will be added to the poll.”

“Thank you,” he said as he dropped the money on her improvised desk. “See you next month, shijie!” And then he walked away, closing the door behind himself.

“See you next month, shijie,” she mumbled as she made a face, then showed her tongue at the door. Her anger was short lived though, the weight of his words hitting her fully.

“Oh God, I'm so dead.” She whispered at no one, groaning as she hid her face between her hands.

Time was ticking, and now she had a month to find a way to tell her shizun about her little scheme.

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I did it!! The fic curse fought me tooth and nail but I finished!!!

And with more disciples shenanigans!!! jsbskdnsnd :D

I was so tempted to make Mobei-Jun show up behind Ye Ling and scare the shit out of her yall have no idea fjsbakdnakdn but that would be throwing another character for me to deal with, so no Mobei-Jun............ Yet

Next on the list is Divination Peak! :D I have an idea, Wikipedia links and a dream of surviving the end of the semester, so it might take a moment but I'm gonna finish this!!!

BTW, there are still two slots open for peak lords/ladies! If you want to suggest a name and a peak, please do!

And here is the masterpost of this AU

Thank you so much for giving this a read!!! It makes me so so happy to see you guys enjoying this, you have no idea <3

That's it for today folks! See you on Peak 9/12!!!

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #shang qinghua #sqh 12/12 achievement #sqh gotta catch them all #Wu Qingfang (beast peak lady)#once again this has gotten out of my control #aaaaaaaa #but I hope yall like it ❤️

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sheepispink · 2 days ago

Text

A LIGHT THAT NEVER GOES OUT

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Masterlist AO3

pairings: Simon Ghost Riley/ Reader (platonic or romantic, up to you)

tags: probably loads of military inaccuracies, anxiety attacks (possibly?), heavy angst, angst and comfort, paranoia, bad mental health, cuddling and literal sleeping together (up to you romantic or platonic)

A/N: I’d appreciate if no one complained abt the accuract/realistic of the story (ofc if its the characterisation of ghost that’s perfectly ok!) i’m open for criticisation for how i write etc etc but this is a sensitive topic and.. based off personal experiences 😅😅 so it’s very realistic to me even if its not to you!

This technically takes place after this fic but it’s not a big deal in which the order you read it

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You’re an introvert, even if you do get excited really quickly, loud around people you’ve known for a while and love meeting new people. Yet still, you call yourself an introvert, even if that technically still makes you an extroverted introvert. You don't like the sound of an extrovert— someone who thrives off of others' attention and loves to be the center of it, who brightens their days with their friends and always wants to make plans with anyone and everyone. You like the attention sometimes; when Price mentions your name in a conversation, praising your skills, your heart thumps a little louder. Being at the limelight of the party isn't always the worst thing either, especially when everyone laughs at your jokes so hard they double over, grinning so wide you can't help it either. You love your friends, your teammates, even the random soldiers you’ve only exchanged small greetings with. The love for others is held tight in your heart’s vessels, bursting each and every time they make you smile or you just see their presence. You feel so warm and alive when you give them a grin in the mornings, even more so when they seek out your presence throughout the day.

Though, that only applies sometimes— never always.

A familiar soldier could ask you out to lunch and yet your chest begins to twist uncomfortably, like someone is wringing your intestines with their hands. Something screams at you when they say those words, like an invisible line had just been crossed that had been clear in everyone's heads. You had only ever spoken to those soldiers in the gym or around base, there was nowhere else even remotely personal you’d think to take them to. One on one conversations were not common either, since it wasnt that often. It’s not that you don't like them, it’s just.. not right. You’d shake your head apologetically as you force an excuse between your teeth. The regret you then express is a lie, along with the love you felt before— only reduced to a being who could never hold any of those things.

The truth is, you have a sick little parasite in you, it claws at that heart muscle, tearing away the flesh and devouring any love you feel for the people you care about and replacing it with an empty feeling which is always followed by an unreasonable hatred. Your mind grows dark, headaches permanent, as you live through the day as a skeleton of yourself— no longer able to hold any love within you as it slips past your bones in seconds. You don't like the boundaries you’ve mentally set for each person to be crossed, even if it’s a perfectly normal task. In fact, some may even say you’re scared of change. You don’t like to put a label on these things, hell you don't even like to think too hard on these things. It begins to make sense when you sit and reflect, piecing all the reasons for your behaviour together until you hit the final point. Soon you’re done, finally aware of the most significant reasoning behind your antics. The only issue is, being self aware doesn't mean you get any better; no matter how many nights you sit and stare at that mirror, nothing changes.

The only thing you gained was the ability to squash down the parasite from prying eyes. Excuses fall from your lips quickly, no matter how bad you feel when they give you that look of disappointment. It’s not your fault— you know you won't be able to handle an outing like that, you’d get too worked up. Why? You don't need to dwell on it, not right now. This continues for multiple people, multiple soldiers for two weeks, until you're ‘normal’ and you hang around others again. People begin to subconsciously catch on and so your little routine continues to carry on moving so well, staying right on track.

“Sarge? You aint comin’ to team night? Why?”

Ghost stands at the door of your quarters, dressed in his typical training attire whilst you’re sitting in something cozy, made for home wear. You have to fight the urge to cover yourself up. “Oh right.. i, uh..yknow, lot of paperwork to do. Thought i’d stay in.”

You say with a small smile, attempting to ease any concerns he had before but little did you know, he was already growing aware of your little issue, or at least the fact there was one within you. “Paperwork? On a Friday? You should be relaxin’.” You grit your teeth a little, the burning urge inside of your chest returning just like the sick pit in your stomach. It felt so awful fearing just a simple team night out, but it was just so late and you were so tired— you didnt have the energy to be rational the whole time, to think of your next move constantly.

“It’s not a big deal. I’ll come to the next one.” You shrug, turning back to your small desk as you pull another small stack of papers in front of you. His boots thump loudly against the floorboards, sounding like the heavy thump of your heart in your ears. It stops, suddenly, behind your back and your body stiffens as he leans down, looking at the paperwork you’re going through. It’s a lie— naturally, you finished it all. He doesn't even have to stare at you first nor visibly raise a brow; you’re already waiting for him to call out your bluff just as quickly.

“You can just say you want some time alone, yknow.” That catches you off guard, half expecting him to just tell you to stop whining and grab some drinks. His words were still difficult though, how could you easily just say that? Of course, the words itself aren't the hard part, nor speaking it—it’s the implications behind said words. An excuse means you have other things to occupy you, so no one dares to disturb you much after that, however explaining you want some alone time gives way to more questions. Specifically the first being: why? Then they begin to wonder if you’ve been doing okay recently or if you’re struggling with something. You dont like the idea of that at all— people thinking about you in that way. It feels weird, almost like it’s wrong. Sometimes you wished people would just not care, and leave you alone to wallow with yourself.

“Sarge?” You snap out of it, sheepishly scratching the back of your head as he still stands behind you and you turn in your chair, putting the best meek face you can on for the night. “What? No, that’s not why I declined. I’m not really feeling any alcohol today and a new episode of a series I previously binged on the weekend just came out. Sorry.. didn't want to make it seem i was ditching anyone for a show.” Perfect, an awkward grin had tied it all off into a well constructed excuse. Even if it was partially true and this really wasn't fake, it sure felt like everything you did was an act. After all, you really didn't want them to think you were ditching anyone, and you didn't feel like having any alcohol tonight. “A new series” He says gruffly, and you nod with a tight smile, teeth gritting so hard you’re sure they’ll break in a few seconds. “I’ll join you then.”

You blink once, twice, three times in pure utter confusion. Ghost—The Ghost, whose name is rumoured across the battlefield and known for never giving into idle small talk—wants to watch the series you lied about, with you.

You’ve never felt more guilty in your entire life, practically fumbling for a solution. You could just tell the truth, say no and admit you needed to be alone. But this is the first time he’s ever expressed wanting to hang around you, actually together and alone— and miss out on a team night?! He may just want an excuse out of it, but still, you can't just say no now. “Well yeah, i just..” You hate how there’s no easy way out of this in the slightest, torn between saving your own mental health or finally getting close to the teammate who you’ve been on eggshells around for nearly a year now. “My room’s not exactly clean--“

He cuts you off with a gruff, shake of his head, a scoff resounding in his next words, promptly embarrassing you too. “There ya go— knew you wanted to be alone.”

You fumble, not understanding how he managed to pry it out of you so fast, just a simple lie blowing your cover. “I said it wasn't like-“

“See you tomorrow.” He’s gone just as fast as he silenced you, heavy footsteps disappearing out of your door and down the corridors. What you couldn't wrap your head around is how fast he had figured it out and made you confess to your lies that fast— it was a real problem, something you couldn't just let slide. If he knew, did others too?

Unfortunately for you, the very much needed alone time didn’t help as well as it usually did considering this new information has threatened everything that made up the core of your very being—specifically everything keeping you glued together. You just couldn't sit there and possibly relax like you usually did when alone (more specifically think over everything you’ve done wrong until you quite literally fell asleep mid thought)— not when Ghost could clearly read everything you had ever thought about in your life.

That being said, you’ve been a nervous wreck all week, concentrating so hard on looking sane that you’ve barely paid a second of attention to things you should’ve listened to. It’s not like you slipped up regularly, but before that day you were already feeling pretty uneasy and now with still no relief and the added stress, you feel like you really might lose it any second now. Every time you see him, every word exchanged with your teammates—with another person—it eats at you, tugging further on the ropes you’re hanging onto. They’re already been pulled thin, especially since you’ve been put in charge of a group of rookies for the past few weeks now. Of course, you had pulled the short straw when assignments went round because not only did your group love to talk back, but they loved to test every limit by asking the most stupid of questions possible. It’s the second time now you’ve had to lecture one of the rookies about why you can’t just ‘throw a grenade at the enemies’. It’s only temporary, just basic training exercises and medical procedures they need to know until the Officer, who usually oversees them, returns from their sick leave.

You let out a long breath as you enter the small break room, also known as taskforce 141’s meeting room but they’ve let you lounge in here too many times to count. It’s quiet in here, Soap and Gaz both on missions and you assume Ghost must be too. It’s the first time you’ve been able to relax all week, knowing damn well Price is down in London with Gaz. Your shoulders sag, the miserable look returning to cover your features now that you don't need to pull that tight smile anymore. Your chest physically aches from how anxious you’ve been all day, the weight of the day’s mistakes and fears of the future swelling deep in your gut. You know it’s a Friday, know you should just take a long sleep but you can’t help but think about all you have to do for the days to follow. You’re busy the whole day tomorrow, a team outing you can’t deny no matter how much you really do not want to go. Just thinking of all the final work you’ll have to cram in on Sunday makes a splitting pain run along the bumps in your brain. Even your breaths begin to feel shorter, an uncomfortable feeling that you just still cant rid of no matter how long you take deep breaths. Your eyes are weighed down with exhaustion and yet your brain refuses to let you sleep yet. No, you cannot. If you sleep the night away then you’ll only have Sunday left for yourself, and that won't work out, will it?

You pick up the mug you had just stirred, hoping the drink would soothe at least something if not your dehydrated body. Taking a small sip, the hot liquid spills down your throat, leaving a warm feeling in your ribs. “Alone by choice or force?” A gruff voice rings out behind you, along with an arm reaching around to supposedly grab a teabag as well, is enough to make you flinch. Stumbling on your own feet, your mug jolts and the steaming water splashes against your shoulder. If you were worried about someone catching you so vulnerable before, you were certainly terrified now, especially since your skin was burning from a small startle.

“Fuck— sorry—“

Ghost’s gloved hand settle on one side of your waist while the other quickly takes the mug from your hands and places it upon the counter. You cant respond, barely processing the situation and everything just feels like too much and your skin feels so hot, you know he’s seeing you fall apart and still there’s nothing you can do—

Your thoughts snap to a blank when he presses the cold rag against your burning skin. Thankfully the layers of the training uniform stops any severe marks from forming. His other hand rubs your cheek, his mask so close it could brush your face, and you can actually see every speck of brown in his irises. You can't look at him for long though, moving your gaze away quickly, not when you know what you’ve done. For the past week or two you’ve hated him, painting the most horrible picture in your mind. It wasnt even on purpose, you’ve just started seeing everything wrong about him. He doesnt give the rookies much mercy, nor does he particularly entertain any of Soap’s antics even when the situation is pretty lax. He’s boring, he seems to care about nothing but himself somedays, he refuses to let you do something stupid and he never takes that damn mask off even when you’re all supposed to trust one another. You’ve lied to him, yes, forgetting about your hatred when he made you laugh with those gruff remarks. But he’s not the only one— no, you’ve began to hate everyone in this task force, picking at them and every little thing. It’s weird, you don't want to victimize yourself, because you know you’ve done just as much wrong too. But still, somedays you really can't look past the list of things you dislike about your own friends.

“Are you alright? I havent seen you all week.”

Of course he hasn't, you’ve been avoiding them all. It’s nearly impossible to think straight these days and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fake it so naturally, you just stayed away. The more you did it, the better it began to feel. Avoiding them was the solution— you were just the thorn in their side with your tricky mood swings and anxiety always painting them to be the villain. You couldnt just allow this to happen, to destroy them with your issues even if they had no idea about it.

But now, face to face with him, all you feel is unexplainable guilt for everything you’ve done to them— how could you even hate them for a second? His hand is still rubbing at your skin, nudging your face gently upwards just so you’d at least look at him for a second. “Really? The silent treatment now?.” He sighs and you hate yourself, how did you let this spiral to this point— to where he’s apologising to you and yet you wish you could just disappear. Isnt this what you wanted? For everyone to be kind to you? So why are you running— why do you refuse care?

Your lips press together as your teeth bite down on the soft flesh, torn from how much you’ve picked at the skin the whole week. It aches with anxiety, and your teeth hurt from how often you’ve clenched them so hard they scraped against eachother. The only thing you can do is stand there as Ghost fusses over you, trying to get you to move a damn muscle instead of falling apart silently like some kind of broken watch, unable to move forward or backwards. Just still.

“Sarge— snap out of it, look, I'm sorry. Okay?”

His hands are still on you, and you’ve begged for a day where someone would care this much about you and still, you step back, almost afraid. “I’m sorry, Ghost.” You croak out, your hands reaching up to your eyes as you wipe at your skin obsessively, trying to hide and stop anything from leaking. “Why’re you apologising?” He says gruffly, confused by all of this, this sudden onslaught of emotion.

He’s not stupid, he had a feeling you weren't quite yourself this week. Stupidly, he figured you’d just deal with it on your own. That's what everyone did, right? He knows he just takes a breather when he feels a little rough— even Price had his own battles. Comfort isn't a strong point for Ghost, not even when he was Simon Riley, never has and he never thinks it will be. He’s born and bred on violence and the coldness that comes after it, the lack of warmth even as hot blood trickles and emptiness consumes the space where his fellow soldiers should be. So watching you crumble right before him, apologising profusely while your body wracks with shaken breaths, makes something stop in him too. He doesn't know how he’ll do it, but he knows damn well no one fights alone anymore.

“Look at me.”

He says firmly, both his hands landing firmly on your shoulders, one hand even tempted to just force your chin up but you shake your head profusely. “Why not?” He stays patient for you, even if he knows he may have to force you soon— its the least he can do for you. “I cant look at you. Not after everything i did.” He pauses, hands now settling on your jaw in confusion, he knows this is moving towards an interrogation but he has to know. “What are you talking about?! What did you do?”

“I hated all of you! I avoided you all and destroyed our relationship, i fucked it all up.”

With that he cant stand to see this continue, a gloved hand firmly planted over your mouth as the other wraps around your back. He leads you to the couch even as you squirm, not caring in the slightest. He knows he has strength and not comfort, so he’ll use it to shut you up whilst the truth comforts you instead.

“Look at me.” He says sternly and you do, eyes snapping up with wide fear as you look at him. “That’s not true— okay? None of us consider our relationship with you ruined, not one of us has even mentioned you in a bad light at all.” He makes sure your whole body is pressed against the back of the couch, considering that you didnt particularly look as if you could hold yourself up right now.

“Soap has only talked to me about you once recently— he told me you helped him organize the training schedules for the rookies. Told me to thank you for it because he felt he did not express his gratitude enough. Do you understand now? No one’s mad at you– not one of us have even considered anything to have gone wrong.”

His hand grabs your own, settling it on the center of his chest so you can feel the pattern of his breathing, silently praying you’d try and match it. You can only blink at him though, slowly processing his words with each passing second until his hand leaves your mouth and your lips part, breath hitched before you swallow a sharp breath. “I’ve avoided all of you– i’ve been hating all of you.” You choke out, chest clenching with regret and the weight of unreasonable guilt and his other hand moves to hold your face again, his brown eyes piercing into yours with his silence.

“What is like to hate someone?”

“What?”?

“What is it like to hate someone?” He repeats, his thumb pressing gently into the curve of your cheek.

“I-...” You falter, thinking for a moment before your lips part again. “I dont like things that they do— the way they act and everything about them.”

“You’d avoid them too, right? Like that general you hated. Remember when he touched you and you pushed his hand away?

You nod along in agreement, breathing a bit slower to hopefully ease the pressure on your chest at the moment.

“Y-yeah.. i’d express my dislike clearly..”

“So why did you never push me away the past few weeks? You said you avoided us, but you would always speak to us if we needed to. You still helped Soap too.”

You pause, blinking at him in confusion now, you had convinced yourself that you hated them so why did you never.. actually express it?

“You’re also letting me touch you now and last week you didn't want to hang out with us, but you didnt want to hurt our feelings by saying that.”

You’re left silent, baffled and confused because in your head, you were being horrible to them, hating their guts like it was nothing.

“I think… whatever is going on in that head of yours.” He says slowly, tapping at your forehead gently as you look up at him with widened eyes. “You’ve held it in for too long. You’ve dwelled on those thoughts, so self aware of your own anxieties that you’ve distorted reality. You think you’ve done something bad, because you can't understand why you always feel so bad.” His voice is softer than usual, even if his words are still gruff and holds his thick Manchester accent.

Somehow that alone reminds you that Simon has never lied, not even once, to you. That stern voice of his is straightforward, doesnt mess around and forces his way through any problem. Just like he had just pushed himself to the root of your mind and destroyed your seeds of doubt.

“You’re allowed to talk to us you know. I have a funny feeling you’re scared o’ somethin’. Not sure what just yet.”

He doesnt force you to respond, just speaking his thoughts even if that’s what you usually do when you’re together. The couch creaks as he stand up, pulling you to get up aswell beside him. He places a hand on the crook of your back, gently encouraging you to begin walking towards the door. “Cmon, back to my room. Lets get you cleaned up properly.”

Before you know it, you’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, something you had only felt months ago when you first came here, scared and confused over a stupid hornet. You trusted him to help you then, but you dont understand why you suddenly felt that fear again. Meanwhile, your shirt is half off, Ghost sat on the bed beside you as he inspects the burns on your chest from the tea. It’s harsh, the skin reddened but not enough to be something serious thankfully. He presses a cool towel against it, soothing the stinging skin but he knows it’ll fade out soon enough. You’re wearing his old shirt, and he gave you some comfortable sweatpants too for good measure. You just watch all his moves so quietly, feeling like a ghost yourself in this moment from how detached you are. It’s weird, feeling so much yet nothing at the same time.

“Nothing too bad, should be alright by the morning.” He hums, lifting the fresh mug of tea he brewed for you and brings it to your lips for you to sip before he steals some for himself. “Is your chest still tight?” You blink, not expecting him to ask that of all things because you hadnt exactly mentioned that part and yes, it was. “How did you know..?” Your hand reaches out, silently asking for more of the tea he graciously lets you sip, unable to fathom how he brews it so perfectly each time. “You were clutching at your chest before and your breaths are a little shorter than they should be.” He’s seen straight through you again so you slump your shoulders and just nod quietly. “Yeah, it’s really tight. It’s always like this and i dont know how to make it stop.”

His gloved hand reaches out, gently rubbing at your chest thus making you sink a little back into the pillows. Before he can respond, you speak up with a quiet confession. “That day, when you came ‘round, I was upset. You said you wanted to watch the series with me and I felt so bad. I didn't want to give up my only chance of spending time with you, but I knew my head couldn't take it.”

He nods along quietly, letting you reveal it all to him. “T-then you figured me all out and i got scared— i didnt want someone to know everything about me because i didnt want to be a problem. I want someone to listen but i dont want to be seen as something different. I just.. i dont know how to handle all of this. I dont feel like the person i am when i look in the mirror.”

The strangest thing of all is that it didnt actually take you long to figure it out. You knew all along, of course, but when you’re fighting against yourself, you’re supporting both sides and so a part of you decided not to dwell on a certain bit of information too much. The reason for that to be pushed aside is no part of you wanted to face it.

Your heart always secretly wished someone would find out— that someone would push past the walls you’ve banged so hard against even if they were crafted by the webs of your brain. You prayed and prayed that they’d read through it all, express their concern and one day, one day you’d be saved from this hellish feeling. It was a common daydream for you and yet you were terrified of it. If someone knew, there was no guarantee they’d follow the fantasy. They could ridicule you, or they couldnt be able to comfort you at all, maybe they’d try and it wouldnt even do anything or maybe, just maybe— they wouldnt give a damn about it. What happened then? If that daydream was real, and that was the final outcome, there was no turning back in time. It seemed like only one person would ever figure you out, after all, no one had up until this point.

But then Simon became aware, and you got terrified. You hid away because you were too scared to know his reaction to your problems, even more so his reaction to you. You wanted someone to help, you really did, and yet your brain feared to know the uncertain future of it.

His ungloved hands card through your hair, the callouses gentle against your scalp as he slowly scratches at it. “You need to speak with us, and the others. Your feelings are real— hell, we all have our doubts. I used to feel it before every mission. Soap began to tell me his, then Gaz joined too. Price always looks for a way to solve it, and i give my two pence when i feel i want to. Just cause you feel different, doesnt mean you are. Plenty o’ people felt the same way you did before.”

“Really..? I’m not like.. crazy?”

“No, never. Even if you do some stupid shit sometimes.”

That makes you finally crack a real smile, even if its small and you’re unable to stifle the small chuckle that bubbles in your throat and although he’s the epitome of stoicism, he smiles beneath the mask. “Everyone’s out on a mission, ya can't leave me alone tonight. C’mere.”

You settle yourself in the crook of arm as he lays back against the bed with you, propping up his laptop on his lap as he searches for a good movie.

“You better report back to me everyday this week, alright? I want you here at nine pm sharp, dressed in your pajamas. That’s an order.”

Thinking over all your previous daydreams of how this would eventually go, this was far from how you expected it to be. Firstly, you never expected Ghost, nor it to happen in the military at all. Perhaps you thought maybe later in life it’d occur or maybe Soap or Price would figure it out. Either way, you arent actually upset over it. No one would be your fairy tale saviour in life, coming forward to fight the demons that plagued your head all the time. Even so, the way Ghost had shut you up and calmed you down makes you think he’s pretty damn close to being one, even if knights usually dont scoff at their princess.

He doesnt even look like he’d be willing to give a little kid a hug, but still, you couldnt be happier with how this turned out in the end. Compared to fairytale princes and men in the movies, you knew Ghost and you knew he was serious— so if he wanted to help you, he would. And no, he wouldnt ridicule you throughout the process, nor ever feel like you’ve been misheard. You know that if you spoke to Ghost, he’d listen earnesty and never forget, carrying that around with him even if those anxieties eventually died out.

You knew he’d always linger around, never forgetting you or leaving you behind. Just like a Ghost.

“Okay, i promise i will.”

You say softly, pressing your cheek against the curve of his chest, the faint thump of his heartbeat drowning out any lost thoughts. He was your support, and no matter how bad it got for you, no matter how many times you get overwhelmed and lash out, not even when you avoid everyone— he’d never break away. No, he would always be beside you.

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mawrmyy · 1 day ago

Text

Gold Dust Woman || Rupert Campbell-Black x Taggie O'Hara

wc: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ minors dni !! this is basically just porn but they're so in love, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all!!), nicknames (Angel, Sweetheart), Rupert is WHIPPED

a/n: HI!! this is my first time publishing something in forever, and my first time EVER publishing something like this!! I'm trying not to be nervous about how well this does because honestly I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy <3

link to this work on ao3

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I can’t breathe without you,” Is what he’d told her, before kissing her until the both of them were breathless.

One hand around her waist, resting on her hip bone, while the other cups the back of her head tenderly. He’s licking into her mouth, a kiss that is all teeth and tongue and every ounce of desire that has piled up throughout these long months of watching from afar.

Rupert is a bad man. He knows it. He’d promised Declan that he wouldn’t touch Taggie, and at the time he really did plan to keep that promise.

But Christ, Taggie, with her copper hair and her golden freckles, with the loveliest goddamn smile he’s ever seen. Who’s lips he just found out taste like cherries and sunshine and yeah, he’s fucked. Absolutely, irrevocably fucked.

She’s the first to break away, gasping for air. Rupert rests his forehead against hers, praying she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in his hands where they rest upon her body.

“Come over,” he whispers against her lips. “When the party’s over, I mean. If you’d like.” He can see a flash of hesitation in Taggie’s eyes, but just as quickly as it came, it’s replaced with something else, something deliciously sinful.

“Okay,” She tells him with a soft smile on her kiss-bruised lips. Rupert huffs out a relieved laugh before ducking down to kiss her once again, this time slower and sweeter, savoring the taste of her on his lips.

There are footsteps nearby, faint voices growing louder, and Taggie jumps away from him, straightening out her blue dress. He immediately misses the warmth of her in his hands, the way her body felt beneath his fingertips, internally cursing the bastards who dare disrupt this moment. He clears his throat, trying to act as natural as possible, picking up a bottle of wine from the table and reading the list of ingredients.

Taggie washes her hands in the kitchen sink, splashing cold water on her face and steadying herself against the marble counter.

Charles walks into the kitchen with Caitlin beside him, talking about God knows what. They stop rambling when they notice Rupert and Taggie’s decidedly unnatural stances.

“We were just–” Caitlin says after an uncomfortably long pause, bursting into a fit of giggles before she can finish her sentence.

“Just grabbing a glass of water!” Charles finishes for her, barely keeping his composure as a smile threatens to break out on his lips. Caitlin gives her sister a double thumbs-up before her and Charles run out of the kitchen, laughing loudly.

Taggie is looking down at her hands when Rupert glances back at her. He can make out the bright red flush of her cheeks, her eyes wide with embarrassment. He can’t help but smile to himself at the sight of her– the way she’s practically glowing under the warm yellow fluorescents, how she looks like the sun itself.

He comes to stand behind her, hands finding her waist once again like a moth to flame. His fingers move to brush her hair to one side and he presses his lips to the back of her neck, lingering there for a long moment before whispering into her skin.

“I’ll be waiting, Angel,” he says, before disappearing back into the crowd in the other room.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

He’s a bad man, is what Rupert thinks to himself as he paces around his sitting room, mindlessly biting his thumb. Of course Taggie wouldn’t come. What was he thinking to himself, asking that of her? She must’ve come to her senses. After all, he’s rotten, tainted, old. Old enough to be her father. Christ, he’s a bloody idiot.

A knock at the door shakes Rupert from his thoughts. He rushes towards it, swinging it open quickly. The second he sees her standing under the doorframe his heart warms, all of those dreadful thoughts he’d had just a moment before dissolving immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” Taggie apologizes breathlessly. “Daddy drank too much and insisted he wasn’t tired, he just wouldn’t go to sleep. And Caitlin, she kept nagging me, asking where I was going and I just couldn’t get her to stop,” She keeps yammering, and Rupert just smiles, eyes scanning her face, her freckles, her lips.

“Taggie–” He tries to interrupt, but she keeps blabbering out apologies. Saying something about having to clean the kitchen. His smile grows wider, fonder, on his lips.

“Tag.” Rupert says, firmer this time. She finally pauses, catching her breath and looking up at him. “It’s alright,” He assures her softly, before cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. She melts against him, nestling into his warm skin.

They stay like that for a moment, gazing into the other’s eyes, relishing this fleeting feeling for as long as they can.

Taggie is the first to lean in, tilting her face up and rising to her tiptoes. Rupert catches her lips with his, kissing her softly. She tastes so sweet, like citrus fruit and everything he’s ever wanted.

The kiss is gentle and tender and it’s not enough. Taggie’s fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer to her. His hands greedily roam all over her body— neck, chest, back, hips, arse. She’s still wearing the same blue dress she wore at the party, and Rupert feels absolutely feral, gripping the back of her thighs hungrily.

He drinks her down like smooth whiskey. He can’t seem to get enough.

Taggie breaks away from him for just a moment.

“Bedroom,” She gasps out breathlessly, before wasting no time and kissing him again. The two of them scramble to his room, laughing into the other’s mouth at every item of furniture that they knock down on their way there.

Rupert pauses when they reach the doorway, taking the time to kiss her properly, devouring her like a man starved. Still, there’s something sweet about it, how he takes her bottom lip between his teeth, the curl of her fingers on the nape of his neck.

With a surge of confidence, Taggie unbuttons and shucks Rupert’s trousers and pants down, planting her hands on his chest and guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. She blushes furiously as she toys with the buttons of his shirt, her lovely fingers trembling just slightly. He smiles fondly at her, and she smiles back nervously.

A single, reckless thought crosses his mind—

Mine.

Taggie pushes Rupert’s shirt over his shoulders, fingers tracing over the defined muscles of his upper back. He melts like butter in her hands, letting her mould him to her liking.

With Taggie standing between his thighs and his clothes discarded somewhere on the tiled flooring, he hesitantly runs the pads of his fingers over the line of her collar bone, following its trail to the sleeves of her dress. He looks at her, waiting for approval. The decisive nod of her head is all the confirmation he needs before slipping her dress down her body.

She’s standing almost completely bare before him, cheeks flushed rosy-pink, and he’s sure he looks like a disheveled mess because fuck, she’s heavenly. The northern lights, the stars, every wonder of the world pales in comparison to the sight before him.

“Oh, Tag,” He says breathlessly, before pulling her down and kissing her hungrily. His cock is impossibly hard by now, and Taggie takes notice, stroking him lightly. Rupert groans as soon as she touches him, and he can feel her smile against his lips.

She stands up straight, guiding him to sit against the headboard of the bed. He complies easily, but not before taking her with him, tugging her into his lap so that her thighs straddle his middle. She laughs at his eagerness, and the sound of it is like windchimes, like goddamn music to his ears. He kisses her neck, right below her jaw, and she lets out a content sigh, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

He guides Taggie’s hips with his large hands, rocking her back and forth on his lap. He can feel how wet she is through her plain cotton panties. Her small, breathy moans make him see stars.

Normally, he’d take his time. Tease her until her lashes are dewy from tears, make her fall apart with his fingers, his tongue, before finally sinking into her. But tonight he’s impatient. He’s just a man, is what he’d like to say, but honestly he’s not so sure if that’s true. Tonight he feels so animalistic, so feral for her, that he’s not so sure he’s even human anymore. After all these months of secret glances and fisting his cock late at night to the thought of her– he needs her now.

In one swift motion, Rupert rips her panties off, tossing the torn fabric to the floor. Taggie lets out a small gasp, and he can’t help the smug grin that curls onto his lips. She leans down and kisses it right off, still slowly grinding her wet cunt over his dick.

It seems he’s not the only one that’s desperate tonight, because moments later she takes him into her hand and lines his tip with her weeping hole. She sinks down onto him slowly, panting out shallow breaths, and Rupert’s fingers dig into the fat of her hips because Jesus Christ, if he doesn’t steady himself he’s going to come right now.

And she looks like an angel on top of him, glowing under the pale moonlight, and he wishes he could worship her like she deserves, but right now he’s just desperately focused on not blowing his load.

His fingers travel from her navel up her soft tummy, cupping her perfect tits, before descending once again and drawing slow circles on her clit. Her eyes squeeze shut at the delicious pressure, and Rupert swears he’s positively drunk on her. She's so tight around him, so wet and warm, and she looks like sunshine incarnated and feels like everything he’s been missing.

“Tag–” He rasps out, “Fuck, please– slow down, sweetheart–” but she can’t hear him, her ears ringing at the overwhelming pleasure when he hits that sensitive spot inside her.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think of anything other than how it feels like she was made for him.

But he fails.

He comes with a guttural groan, painting the inside of her cunt white. He covers his eyes with his hands out of embarrassment as he feels Taggie’s movements come to a sudden stop above him. The room goes completely silent for a few moments.

When he looks at her, she’s staring at him with her eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Did you just–” She starts, and Rupert grunts shamefully.

“Shit, Tag, I’m sorry,” He apologizes softly. Her expression remains the same, and Rupert wants to bash his head into the nearest wall. “I’ve never– this has never happened before. I don’t know what– fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”

Rupert may be an asshole, but even he is well-mannered enough to make a woman come at least twice before he even lets himself think about his own pleasure. He expects Taggie to be angry. Perhaps a slap to his cheek. God knows he deserves to have some sense slapped into him.

His heart tightens at the sound of soft laughter above him. She’s giggling, pink lips parted and eyes sparkling brightly. She leans down to kiss him, and he lets her, cupping the back of her head in the palm of his hand.

“You’re not mad?” He asks when they part, and her brow furrows as if he’s just asked her whether or not pigs can fly.

“Of course not,” She replies, so sweetly and earnestly that he has to physically hold back from saying those three words he’s been itching to tell her for a long while now.

“Besides,” She continues, the corners of her lips turning slightly up. “I think it’s kind of sexy, how you can’t resist,”

Rupert huffs out a laugh, quickly maneuvering the two of them so that he lays on top of her. Taggie squeals at the sudden movement, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good,” He tells her, trailing kisses down her body until he’s sitting on his knees between her legs, “Because you can hardly blame me, Angel.” He takes her foot in his hands, placing the heel to rest on his shoulder and pressing a tender kiss to the ankle. He continues kissing and nipping up her thigh, higher and higher and—

“Oh!” Taggie says with a gasp, just as he nearly reaches her core. Rupert halts his movements.

“You don’t have to– I mean, no one’s ever done that for me before–” She mumbles, and he smiles, cutting her off by pressing a feather-light kiss to her inner thigh.

“Idiots,” He mutters into her skin, souring at the thought of Ralphie and how he most likely never considered Taggie’s pleasure before his own, if at all.

“Please,” He says. “Let me make it up to you, Angel,” He scans her face, waiting for her reaction. She lets out a shaky breath, before giving him a single nod.

He wastes no time, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe from her pussy up to her clit. She lets out a loud moan, her hands flying to his hair. She tugs at his dark locks in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Rupert loses himself in her, lapping at her sweet juices. He looks up at Taggie from where he is between her thighs, watching her freckled chest rise in fall with every gasp of air she breathes.

Her whines are the sweetest poison, and he hums into her wet heat, completely surrounded by her. His large hand snakes around her to squeeze the soft flesh of her arse, and he can feel her breath hitching, cunt tightening around his tongue. He presses a kiss to her clit, pushing two long fingers into her entrance and curling them inside her, searching for the spot that’ll make her scream.

Taggie’s getting close. He can feel it with the way she clenches around him. Her moans get breathier, shorter, before she goes completely silent and still, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Rupert climbs up the bed to kiss her, still pumping his fingers in and out of her, letting her ride out her high. She kisses him back with fervour, tasting herself on his tongue, and he groans into her mouth.

He wraps his arms around her, and she places a soft kiss to the center of his chest before resting her cheek there.

She feels like home, he thinks to himself over and over.

“Don’t get up tomorrow,” he tells her as he mindlessly traces patterns with his thumb on her bare back. She hums noncommittally in response, her own hand resting on his hip.

“I mean it, Tag,” He tells her. “Stay with me. Let me make you pancakes,” She’s quiet for a long moment, contemplating.

“Alright,” She says finally, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “As long as they’re not burnt,” She adds.

He snorts at the cheeky comment.

“No promises, Angel.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Hope you enjoyed this little drabble! I'm literally so obsessed with these two it's not even funny 😵‍💫

#rivals #rivals disney #disney rivals #rupert campbell black #taggie o'hara #taggie x rupert #rupert x taggie #smut #rivals fanfiction #rivals smut #angelblack #rivals 2024 #alex hassell #bella maclean #fanfiction #fanfic

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girl-named-matty · 2 days ago

Text

Little morning - Life after Hogwarts

synopsis ✧ Being a parent wasn't exactly easy and Sebastian found that out the hard way after the birth of his first son--who was now two-years-old and they were also expecting another. But regardless, he loved being a father. But the biggest problem with having a pregnant wife? A little toddler who just so happens to be a big mummy's boy that tries to wake her up at any chance he gets.

tags ✧ Fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, like so much fluff you guys. Talks of pregnancy and babies (ofc), toddlers (thats a warning in itself haha), marriage, just all the domestic cutesy stuff we all love. .

word count ✧ 1.6k

a/n ✧ Just some random cute idea I got and I have been ITCHING to write Seb and Matty as parents. You've probably seen my other posts about their kids when they are older but I really wanted to do some of the younger stuff as well because the baby fever is strong rn and I need a outlet LOL.🥺 Hope you enjoy! xoxo

Sebastian Sallow severely underestimated how difficult being a parent would be and just how much sleep he would lose by being one as well. Sure, he knew kids were difficult, and his wife had told him countless stories of the kids she had nannied or worked with who were difficult, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the real deal.

Little Eleazar was just past two years old by now, and yes, he was an abnormally well-behaved child; he still was a toddler, and well—toddlers did toddler things.

But despite the lack of sleep, the rough days, and the struggle of learning how to be a first-time parent, it was all worth it. They loved their little boy, and they loved him just the way he was.

And apparently it was “so worth” it enough that Matty was now pregnant with their second child. Or at least in Sebastian’s words, it was “so worth” having another. Matty had always wanted a couple of children, so she was up for having a second, but Sebastian was definitely the one who pushed the idea to have another.

Hence why she was now seven months pregnant and dealing with a toddler. But thankfully, Sebastian was a very hands-on and involved dad, and it made it all so much easier. He was an amazing husband and father. (She couldn’t lie and say that wasn’t the reason why she considered a second.)

It was nearing seven am when Sebastian, who was half asleep, heard the little pitter-patter of footsteps nearing the bedroom door. They had moved Ele into a different room a couple of months ago so he could get used to sleeping without Mum and Dad, especially once the new baby was around. But almost every morning, like clockwork, he managed to climb out of his crib and sneak off to Mum and Dad's room.

Sebastian, immediately knowing who it was, sat up and rubbed his eyes. The little footsteps stopped right at the door, which meant the door needed to be opened. Eleazar wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the door handle and turn it, so usually Sebastian would have to do it himself since he was the first one up.

He could practically hear his son pouting on the other side of the door, so he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake up Matty, who was still peacefully sleeping.

He walked over to the door before opening it, looking down at his son. “Well, good morning,” he said, his voice still gravelly.

Eleazar quickly put his hands up, babbling a little to let his dad know that he wanted to be picked up. Sebastian leaned down and grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “You’re two years old; you gotta start using your words, buddy.” He softly encouraged. But it seemed like Ele was too tired to speak anyway since he was rubbing his eyes the moment he was up in his father's arms.

Sebastian sat back down in bed, Eleazar placed in between him and Matty. “If you’re going to be here, you gotta go back to sleep.” He said, trailing his knuckle against his son's chubby cheeks. Of course, he was only saying this to try and get more sleep himself, but when did toddlers ever listen to anybody?

Instead, Eleazar turned around, seeing that his mother was in bed. “Mummy,” he babbled with a big smile, crawling over to where she was sleeping.

Sebastian’s heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had to quickly grab his son and pull him away from his mother in order for him not to wake her up. She definitely needed more sleep. “Wait, wait, no, we can’t go to Mummy right now, okay? Mummy is sleeping.” Sebastian tried to explain.

However, Eleazar did not like being told no. Especially when it came to his mummy. The corner of his lips curled down, forming a little frown, and by the way his little bottom lip quivered, Sebastian could quickly tell that he was going to start crying.

Panicking a little more, Sebastian quickly grabbed the little boy up in his arms. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He soothed. “We just can’t wake up Mummy right now; she’s resting.”

He knew Eleazar couldn’t understand a lick of what he was saying, but he hoped the tone of his voice would help calm him down. “Mummy is very tired, and she has little brother or sister to deal with too, okay?” He continued. “I can assure you that definitely isn’t easy.” He half mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. But that was more for his own amusement than an explanation.

Ele didn’t cry, but he looked up at his father with his big blue eyes that he had inherited from his mother, a pout still on his face. “Mummy.” He repeated, this time more determined.

Sebastian sighed, shifting to where he was now lying down with the child in his arms. “Mummy is asleep. Which is what you should be doing right now too. You’re still so young to be waking up this early.”

“No.”

Sebastian sighed again. He hated the fact that usually one of the first five words for children was usually no. It was helpful when they could communicate what they wanted, but it also happened to become their favorite word very quickly. Saying no to everything mummy or daddy needed them to do.

“Yes.”

“Mm-hm.” Eleazar shook his head, clearly conveying that he was saying no.

“What am I going to do with you?” He chuckled, pinching his son's cheeks.

But luckily for the both of them, Matty shifted a little, signaling that she was indeed finally awake. Ele quickly looked behind him, seeing his mother begin to wake up. A big smile instantly appeared on his face, and he slipped out of his dad's arms and immediately crawled over to his mother. He was a big mummy’s boy and always wanted to be with her.

When Matty felt two little hands on her arms, she chuckled, opening her eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart,” she said sweetly, the sleep still obvious in her voice.

Eleazar immediately plopped his full body weight onto his mother, giving her a big hug. She laughed, giving him a hug back before sitting up. She looked over at Sebastian and then back down to her son. “Something tells me you’ve been giving your father a little bit of a hard time.” She said, poking her son's little tummy.

“I’ll say,” Sebastian muttered. “Little bugger tried to wake you up the moment he got into bed.”

Matty smiled. “He just loves his mummy,” she cooed, shifting little Ele so she could have him comfortably against her.

Raising a toddler and being pregnant definitely wasn’t easy, but to Matty, it was worth it in the long run. Not all mornings did she wake up as nicely as she did now, but these mornings definitely helped and made up for the bad days.

“Well, thank you for letting me sleep in a little longer.” She said to Sebastian before leaning in for a quick good morning kiss from him. Sebastian smiled into the kiss, enjoying the attention from his wife. Sometimes that was scarce between work and raising a baby, so he was always loving any attention he got from her.

Meanwhile, little Ele was looking at his mother's belly, still wondering what on earth was going on there. It started to frustrate him that he could no longer sit on his mummy’s lap, but he slightly understood the concept of having another new little sibling that was seemingly “in mummy’s tummy” and that it was a baby.

Matty looked down and chuckled. “Say hi to the baby, Ele.” She urged.

Eleazar didn’t say anything, but he did wave, thinking that his little brother or sister could see him do so. Matty giggled a little bit at her son's expression, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “In just a little bit you’ll have a new brother or sister, and it’s gonna be sooo fun,” she said.

“Sleepless nights and screaming babies are an interesting thing to consider fun.” Sebastian joked sarcastically.

“Remind me whose idea it was to have a second?” Matty said, raising her brow at her husband. She knew he was just joking, but she did like to poke fun at him because, after all, it was his idea to have another baby once Eleazar was a little older.

“It was mine, and I’ll totally own up to that.” He chuckled, pulling his wife close to him. “And I can’t wait to have another. Anything from you is a complete blessing, and I’m lucky to have you and our children.”

Matty smiled and leaned her head against his chest. She had married the right man, that’s for sure. And boy did she love him.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Sebastian mumbled into her neck.

“Don’t want another little boy?” She chuckled, looking at him with a raised brow.

Sebastian shrugged. “I’ll be happy either way. I just want a healthy baby. But since we have a boy already, I think it’d be nice to have a sweet little girl. Beautiful and intelligent, just like her mother.” He said, giving Matty a little squeeze.

“And here I thought you wanted a little mini-you.” Matty said.

“Oh trust me, I do.” Sebastian replied. “But who's to say that a little girl can’t be my mini-me? We can get into all sorts of trouble together.”

“Mhm, right. Not on my watch.” Matty joked with a laugh.

“Worth a shot.” Sebastian grinned.

I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you so much for reading! 🥺❤️

#hogwarts legacy #hl #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #mc #Matty Ambrose #Sebastian Sallow x MC #Sebastian Sallow fanfiction #Hogwarts legacy fanfiction #Ambrollow #fankids #fan child

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 days ago

Note

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this.

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart.

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away.

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else.

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you.

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara.

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt.

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned.

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days.

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband.

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again.

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability.

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were.

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased.

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name.

Miguel.

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband.

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it."

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling.

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..."

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed. "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!"

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room. "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough.

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall.

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others.

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you.

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!"

"Ohhh you fucking little..."

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through.

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten.

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??"

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you.

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm.

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved.

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass.

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death.

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass.

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose.

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked.

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first.

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit.

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into.

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half.

----

"You okay?"

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall.

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up.

"I can handle my own, thanks."

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him.

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home.

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear.

"I'm not from around here."

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?"

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?"

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax.

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this."

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute."

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow.

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope."

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this."

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say."

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then.

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could.

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last.

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most.

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil.

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him.

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him.

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place.

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up.

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me."

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head.

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away.

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes.

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.."

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..."

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me."

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there.

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.."

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..."

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..."

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again.

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right. Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration.

"Miguel..."

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen.

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck.

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal.

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you.

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts.

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache.

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra.

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides.

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips.

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens.

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you.

His.

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could.

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock.

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit.

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?"

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..."

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..."

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..."

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel."

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?"

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..."

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..."

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall.

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes.

"Yes..."

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him.

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine.

"You're simply stunning, love..."

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach.

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly.

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again.

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..."

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him.

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground.

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water.

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled.

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds.

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively.

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip,

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss.

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit.

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..."

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..."

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head.

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance.

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before.

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time.

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt.

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you.

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered.

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..."

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly.

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..."

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed.

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust.

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks.

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits.

"You're all mine now, you know that..."

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..."

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?"

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..."

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..."

"Miguel..."

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body.

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors.

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur.

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time.

"I-love-you...."

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor.

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you.

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you.

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire.

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds.

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you.

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality.

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..."

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours,

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again."

---

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misspelledwordswizard · 2 days ago

Note

I understand that fairies like bright colors or objects, Since we always say that Hyrule is part fairy, imagine having something shiny in your hand and the poor boy, with his pupils enlarged like a cat on catnip, can't stop looking at the object as you slowly move it back and forth between here and there, entertained by the way our fairy boy follows it with his eyes

arkdkska I love fairy Hyrule, I loved writing this, thanks for the request!!

Fairy thing

The boy’s eyes moved rhythmically as the necklace swung, fixated on the movement, unable to notice anything else that was happening around him. He almost seemed to be fighting against it, but if that were true then he had already lost this battle a long time ago. My lips twitched instinctively as I watched him with almost as much focus as he was looking at the object in my hands.

I didn’t do it out of malice. It was just a tragic coincidence. We were talking quietly while not everyone else was awake. Naturally, since it was early in the morning, those who were already up were organizing themselves to speed up when we got back on the trail. In my case, I was finishing equipping accessories like belts, putting my sword and shield on my back, and even putting on my golden necklace that I sometimes wear. But, it just so happened that I was talking to Hyrule while I was doing this. I had no idea this could happen, at first I thought it was some kind of weird joke coming from him, until no matter how many times I called him, he couldn’t answer me, not coherently at least, being much more interested in the shiny object swinging. It didn’t take long for me to associate this with the Traveler’s fae side. This, though, was something I didn’t know much about, but I’d heard a few things about faeries, such as their fondness for shiny things, which seemed almost confirmed by this.

I was going to get it out of his sight as quickly as possible when I realized it, but he seemed so adorable like this. I know, a little cruel, but it didn’t really seem to bother him, maybe I should give it to him later as na apology. Do faeries hoard golden things like dragons? It would be curious to see.

— Rulie, what were you talking about? About using monster parts in meals. – I asked, testing how active his brain was.

— I... talking... – He tried, but couldn’t even form a coherent sentence.

— Do you like that?

— ... Yes

I had to hold back a laugh. Okay, maybe it was really a little cruel. But it is indeed interesting, this whole fascination of his for shiny things. I think now I’ll have to start saving all the similar things I find to give to him. I wonder what other things about fairies are correct, does he like sweets? Does he burn himself with iron? When he’s talking in his fairy form does it sound like a bell?

— Rulie, what do you like? – I tried again.

— Shiny things... – He answered, still focused.

— What else?

— I like you...

The pendulum movement I was making with the necklace stopped in surprise. I couldn’t tell if he was being sincere or if this necklace thing was really starting to affect his poor brain, but it was enough to make my face hot as hell. I figured it was best to stop this.

— What’s going on? Why does the Traveler look so silly? – The Captain’s voice caught my attention, making me look away from the fairy boy.

— Oh, I think he likes shiny things. A little too much.

— And you’re using that against him? How cruel. – Wars replied in a mocking tone.

— Yeah, I’m stopping, that really was a bad idea. – I concluded, looking away to hide my blush.

I picked up the necklace, leaving it completely out of Hyrule’s sight, and I could see, out of the corner of my eye, him blinking rapidly, regaining consciousness. I intended to apologize, of course. For a moment I thought he didn’t remember what he had said, but then he stopped for a moment in pure shock, and his face became even redder than mine. His nervousness became visible as he began to move away and stutter, looking for na excuse to get out of there.

— Look, I’m... I’m going to help Time! Excuse me! – I saw him say blushing as he walked away. He definitely knows what he said.

— Geez, what’s came over him? – Wars asked, curious about the possible gossip. I shrugged, trying to avoid my own embarrassment.

— It must be a fairy thing.

#linked universe x reader #link x reader #lu x reader #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #legend of zelda #tloz #x reader #lu hyrule #lu hyrule x reader

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 1 day ago

Text

An Arranged Marriage, part 23

1.4k words

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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You could tell just how much Zen was holding himself back. He helped you undress and carefully set your new clothes aside, knowing that there would be hell to pay from Bira and Hoonti if he damaged them. His hands were shaking where they rested on your waist and he was breathing hard while he paused to look you over and just take in every detail.

Without saying anything he lifted you up with ease and sat on the edge of the low dresser. As he stood between your spread legs he pulled your hips against his and you could feel every twitch and throb of his erection against you.

You could not resist running your hands up under his shirt, just touching him anyway you could. He took that as a hint and quickly pulled his shirt up and over his head and tossed it aside. Softly you kissed along his chest and stomach, paying careful attention to the deeper scars scattered across his skin and enjoying the soft sighs between his moans.

He continued to grind against you. At this height with you on the dresser his erection was rubbing right against your clit and you felt the ache between your legs.

This was much more forward than he had been before and you were pretty sure that you liked it. For all of his reputation and status Zen was never a dominate or aggressive person, not the sort you would have expected for a war hero or avatar of a god. Instead he was gentle in everything he did, fussing over you before ever even beginning to think about himself, careful to always respect your boundaries and never make you uncomfortable if he could help it. He was not the man you expected to marry in any sense, but that did not matter. You really could not imagine getting luckier in an arranged marriage.

Your thoughts were quickly banished when Zen took a step back, this time causing you to whine from the sudden lack of friction between your legs. You watched him closely as he undid his pants, letting your eyes drift downward. You figured he was probably proportionate for someone of his height, but even so that was a lot more than you were used to. His tip was more tapered than a humans and had less of a pronounced head, though you knew even midway up that he was thick enough where you could not get you hand fully around him and the thought made the ache between your legs worse.

He did not immediately step back up to be against you, but instead leaned down to press his forehead to yours, “May I have all of you?”

The wording of his question felt right. Over the last week and a half or so you had given him parts of you, both physically and emotionally but still held quite a bit back.

Zen on the other hand was quick to give you all of himself, happily encouraging you to touch and explore him at your own pace. He had also made it clear in his confessions the other day that more than anything he wanted to be loved. The way he looked so worried when telling you, the ache in his voice when he asked if maybe one day you could love him, he was happy to give you his heart.

He had periodically reassured you that he would never ask for more than you were willing to give, and he was asking for a lot right now, but he was right; it was not more than you were willing to give.

You nuzzled your forehead against his, “Yes.”

The words had barely left your mouth before he scooped you up in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist without hesitation, and another needy, inelegant kiss shared between the two of you. You felt him gently lay you down on the bed, keeping as much contact with you as possible the whole time while trying to not crush you under his size.

He was massive compared to you and inadvertently pinning you under him. With his forehead still pressed against yours his tusks were on either side of your face, keeping you from from being able to turn your head or look away from him even if you wanted to.

You did not feel trapped though, instead it made you feel shielded and protected. Zen was always gentle and reassuring in everything he did, where his size and strength was intimidating initially now it was comforting.

“And you really want me? Truly?” he asked, almost sounding worried.

You reached up and tangled your hands into his hair to pull him closer and kiss his forehead before nuzzling against him, “All of you.”

There was an audible sigh as he must have been holding his breath while waiting on your answer. Any tension he had seemed to dissipate and he leaned a bit more of his weight onto you, just melting against you and purring louder than he ever had before.

He carefully began to reposition himself and used his knee to nudge your thighs farther apart. The two of you giggled as he tried to line himself up with you and kept missing and instead jabbing your thighs, it felt like being young and awkward and inexperienced all over again.

You reached down and wrapped your fingers around his cock and felt him immediately buck into your hand while you tried to guide him in. His eagerness was charming in a way, excited but not pushy, and unable to hide it.

Finally you managed to help him find your entrance and felt the goosebumps prickle your skin as he slowly pushed in. You were thankful that he was more tapered at the tip and going slowly, though it did not outweigh the fact that he was still much larger than a human.

The sounds he was making were incredible though. Little whimpers interrupted by purring, deep shuddering breaths through an open mouth, and soft moans, you had never had a partner quite so vocal.

Slowly he continued to press into you, nuzzling you almost frantically as he did, but the gentle stretch was giving way to a bit of a sting even though he was barely a couple inches in. You winced, though he did not seem to notice. You took a few deep breaths trying to steady yourself, but it was not really helping as a ‘bit of a sting’ was quickly becoming just ‘hurting’.

Zen say something softly. Something you did not catch. Something that most definitely was not in common. But that hardly mattered now.

You let out a yelp when he gave a bit of an excited thrust that made him stop in his tracks. Quickly he pulled his face away from yours and was looking over you in a panic.

“What happened? Are you alright?” he blurted out.

“You’re umm…a bit much to handle” you awkwardly began, “I mean, you tower over humans.”

He looked back at you, taking a few moments to process what you meant before speaking, “Oh.”

Carefully he clamored off of you to lay at your side but did not try to pull you against himself or anything.

“I am sorry” he said.

“It’s ok, it was just an accident. We both just got a bit too excited”. You rolled onto your side to face him and give him a smile to try to reassure him.

“I was worried about this.”

“Worried? About what?”

“Hurting you.”

“I promise you it’s fine, it was an accident. And why were you worried about it?”

“Because you are so much smaller than a troll, and that has made me worry that maybe it would not be possible…” he trailed off.

“And would it matter if it wasn’t possible?”

“Of course not” he finally reached out to you to pull you closer to himself, “Whatever is possible is more than enough.”

“Then we go slow, and maybe warm up next time” you pressed a few soft kisses against his chest and could feel how his heart still was racing. You loved how the scent of incense always lingered on his skin.

--------

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @krayziee @zaqnette @emonatural191 @lets-imagineastory @lovingbadguys @after-laughter-come-tears @plathsotherib @nogoatsnoglori

(Sometimes mobile fights me when tagging people, apologies if it didn’t work!)

#monster fucker #monster lover #teratophillia #terato #monster x reader #monster smut #monster husband #monster boyfriend

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slvtforfiction · 1 day ago

Text

Stalker!Ghost (part 2)

☆ Stalker!Ghost X Reader

☆ Fluff

☆ TW stalking obvs

☆ New account layout,will try change old layout as much as possible,requests are open

☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)

☆ Divider creds @cafekitsune :)

Masterlist | Pinned Post | Part 1

☆ After a while Ghost seemed to be a bigger part of your life than you realised,a bigger comfort than knowingly willing.

☆ You seemed to find yourself excited to see when he would reply to your notes next,hiding off in your bedroom sometimes intentionally so that he would come into your house and reply.

☆ You had come to the conclusion that if he wanted to hurt you he would’ve by now. He had told you descriptions of how you looked at work,how the guy that yelled at you was ‘dealt with’ he knew everything about your life and seemed to protect you yet you had no idea why so whilst writing your next note you included the question.

☆ Hey Ghost, how come you chose me? Like why are you helping me? I would say you barely know me but you seem to know me more than I know myself haha.

Love,Y/n.

☆ You quickly scribbled out the ending,reminding yourself for a moment that this man was stalking you quite literally.

☆ The idea scared you but you supposed he was closer to a guardian angel rather than anything.

☆ After a few hours of listening to music in your room you slipped downstairs to grab yourself a drink,almost forgetting about the note you left until you saw it replaced with a familiar sticky note.

☆ Because you’re a beautiful woman,truly. I see what you do for other people even when others don’t. A beautiful person. I saw you scribble out the ending,don’t be afraid of me dove.

Love,Ghost.

☆ You stared at the note for a moment before writing out yet another note.

☆ Thank you haha,when can I know what you look like though? Can I not even get your phone number or something so you don’t have to break into my house every time I wanna talk to you?

☆ You wrote out the note before grabbing your original drink and heading back upstairs,hoping for a reply soon.

☆ In some sick way you had grown unscathed by the man that entered your house while you weren’t home,the man who entered your house while you actually were home,sitting upstairs oblivious to the rest of the home.

☆ In your mind you continued to remind yourself that he’s your stalker and he’s dangerous but there’s a part of you that just doesn’t believe that voice in your head telling you to run.

☆ You fall asleep soon after writing that note though awake a few hours later to see a pile of your underwear,carefully folded and cleaned and you smile realising that Ghost has been in yet come to the horrific discovery that that man had seen you sleeping.

☆ If he was going to hurt you he would’ve done it by now. You remind yourself before walking downstairs to read his note again.

☆ You ain’t gonna see what I look like any time soon lovie,hope you enjoy your washing.

You can message me on this number.

1567-####-####

Love,Ghost.

☆ You smiled now that you had finally gotten even a little bit of information about him and you quickly ran upstairs as you grabbed your phone typing in the number and sending it a message.

☆ Ghost?

☆ You smile as the phone quickly lights up after your message was sent.

☆ Hey lovie.

Hey guys if you like this post you should follow my Wattpad to get a notification when I post my ghost fic! It’s Christmas themed,slow burn and I know you’ll all definitely love it - Char 💞

Wattpad

out nov 25th 00:00 gmt*

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writing-mlm · 1 day ago

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Hi, could I make an order for Hiccup Haddock x male reader? In which at the beginning they are at the end of the first movie and, like what happened to Hiccup's mother, a dragon kidnaps the male reader because he liked it (this dragon can be a woolly howl? 🥺 Almost no one knows this dragon). And at the beginning of the third movie, when they are rescuing the dragons from the ship, the reader He appears with a somewhat unkempt appearance, and it turns out that all these years he was trying to locate Berk so he could return but on his journey he came across the hunters' ship. I would like a meeting full of action and romance with tears of happiness for finally meeting each other, please.

Going home

Summary: Being kidnapped by a dragon has its perks, but you really miss home. And Berk, too, you guess. Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x male reader Wc: 3k A/n: idk couldn’t stop thinking about this, rushed it out as soon as I could and I have zero idea how to write fight scenes

It was true that Hiccup had a soft spot for dragons— no one around Berk could deny that fact— that Toothless had opened up like a gaping chest wound he didn’t know was there at first. Unable to kill the mighty beast that night, seeing himself in the young dragon. Instead becoming the first (technically second) dragon rider from Beek; turning violent hunters into loving but still violent dragon riders.

Hiccup loved all the dragons, he learned the ins and outs of every single breed he came across. He obviously had a favorite, Night Fury’s but he wouldn’t say he hated any dragons. At least, depending on who was asking him.

Astrid, Stoick, and Gobber would all hear the endless rambles about one particular dragon; unable to roll their eyes or stop his ramblings because they know the reason for his near hatred of them.

The Woolly Howl dragon was one he couldn’t bring himself to care about. Not even if you paid him all the money in the world could he be anything more than indifference and he doesn’t think he even has that for them. Not after the dragon nest incident.

Hiccups remembers the first time he’d taken you flying. Before Astrid, before everything. You’d been braver than he was, had a better grip on Toothless too. He liked that about you, you’d always been the one with a level head, doing what was necessary. It’s probably why his father pushed for the two of you to become friends, hoping you’d rub off on Hiccup. Toughen you up.

Stoick couldn’t imagine what would happen between the two of you, though.

He wouldn’t say it was love, not yet at least. You’re both only fifteen, although Stoick supposed he was in love with Valka at a younger age. But he can definitely tell it’s coming soon; the way you two operate is like two halves of a missing puzzle. He reckons if his wife was there to see it, she’d say you were soulmates in living color.

You’d gotten the others ready to follow Stoick and the other Vikings and used Astrid to knock some sense into him. You would’ve done it yourself but you knew none of the others could get the dragons somewhat ready. And time was running out, you needed to be as fast as possible. Although Hiccup did most of the work convincing them to actually get on them— he always was the crowd worker of the two of you.

Touch as you were, though, you had a terrible sense of direction, so you rode with Snotlout towards the dragon nest. You were going to ride with Hiccup but Astrid was firm that wasn’t going to ride with Snotlout and couldn't fly just yet.

It was good. At first. The plan was working, you were distracting the leader dragon and then one thing led to another before things went terribly wrong.

You don’t know when, you don’t know how, but you remember falling. It was hot, fire was everywhere. You lost the others in the chaos, you couldn’t see more than a couple of inches in front of yourself. Smoke started quickly filling your lungs and you were ready to give up on trying to escape the flames when it was put out. Suddenly everything was cold, colder than the worst snows on Berk.

Ice and snow pushed against your face and you hurriedly used your shield yourself while trying to remain standing. When it stopped, you slowly lowered your hands and looked around.

You thought you saw dark brown fur, but when you reached out you felt the hard scales and a deep timber rumble. Purple eyes stared back at you before it roared and you were shot into the sky. As you were being taken up, you saw Hiccup enter the air with Toothless, the monster of a dragon hot on their tail and tried to scream for him. Scream for either of them to notice you— anything. But your voice was shot, the smoke had done a number on your lungs and throat.

It was useless to try any longer and you watched as the island got smaller, dread filling your stomach.

The Woolly Howl had flown in the clouds, flying away from the fight you could see in the distance. Purple blasts from Toothless grew less and less as you gave up fighting. Even if you got out of the dragon’s harsh grip, you don’t know where you’d land or how you’d even make it back.

You never did get to see if they won the fight.

When Hiccup woke up in his room with Toothless at his side and half of one of his legs; he was just happy the plan had worked. He was happy that he saw Berk buzzing with dragons, he couldn’t look anywhere and not see them. Everyone had greeted him like a hero for the first time in… well, ever. Surely he had died and this was his paradise but when you didn’t run up to him, he was sure this wasn’t paradise.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He slowly asked Stoick and the laughter and cheers died down around him. Stoick removed his helmet and Hiccup faltered, almost falling on the firing had it not been for Astrid. He looks between the crowd that’s slowly dispersing, his chest heaving up and down as his mind swims with the worst possible ideas.

“No one could find him,” She said when Stoick couldn’t find the words. “Toothless and the others tried to track his scent but…” She looks off.

“No,” He shakes his head, looking around. This wasn’t true. “He- he was with Snotlout! How did he lose him?”

“They got separated. One of my men saw a Woolly Howl flying around; they think it's what took him.” Stoick places a hand on his son's shoulder, offering comfort before Hiccup throws himself into his fathers, pulling him impossibly close as he cries. Stoick sucks in a breath before he kneels down, embracing his sobbing, grieving son just as he did when he lost Valka.

“I’m sorry, Hiccup. I’m so sorry.”

—

You scramble to your feet as the Woolly Howl drops you on top of a snowy patch on a mountain. The snow stings your hands and you’re already shivering; your furs weren’t nearly as thick enough for these temperatures. The dragon tilts its head as you slowly back up, reaching behind you when your back slams into something.

Glancing behind you, your eyes close when you find you’re backed into a corner. You know you’re too high up to leave, too cold to even think to fight.

The dragon nudges your leg and you open your eyes, waiting for your death but it nudges you away from the corner and gestures to a cave. There’s a… you squint and smile. There’s a fire inside. Rushing into the cave, it follows after you and you see an older man next to the fire, spinning a long fish over the fire.

“Good,” He coughs, patting the animal fur rug to make you sit. Settling next to him, you look at the entrance of the cave where the dragon is lying in front of, but not blocking. “BeeBoo needs a new friend.”

“BeeBoo?” You ask, looking back at him.

“I'm old,” He continues, ignoring your question. “She needs a new friend.” The man takes the fish off and offers it to you. “You’ll get used to the cold. My furs are in the corner, if you’d like.”

“I need to go home,” Shaking your head, you look for the furs and then them lying in a neat corner. Rushing to put them on, you return to the fire. “Please, can you take me home?”

“BeeBoo can,” He nods. “I’ll be gone before nightfall.”

“You’re leaving? Is there a village nearby?”

“No village,” He shakes his head. “I am old. I will be gone soon.” You look him over, his skin hangs the way the elders on the island do, his hair is barely there, and he shivers like no other despite being bundled in several layers and next to the fire. He’s old, you realize, he will be gone soon.

“Oh,” Blinking, you peel back the scales of the fish and eat in a solemn sort of silence before the old man leaves the cave as the sun starts to go down. BeeBoo howls, giving the man one last head hug before he disappears into the blizzard. BeeBoo turns to you, a sad sort of cry echoing from her chest and you can’t help but feel bad for the dragon.

—

Hiccup checks his notes again, running a finger past each line as he observes two Woolly Howls playing in the nearby snow with Toothless.

strike dragon

fire type- hail

purple mouth and eyes

fur like scales

tail fins

segmented underbelly— blends into clouds

can withstand blizzards

medium-sized

lives in snowy mountains

Sighing, he wipes his face and turns to his map. This is the fourth snow mountain he’s been to this week. He’s lost count of how many he’s been to in the past five years.

He calls Toothless back as he packs up his items; it’s nearly time for the steal mission with the others. As he’s packing the items, he runs his fingers over your old arm brace. He remembers when the two of you had carved your initials into it, he’s since outgrown his but he keeps it around. It hangs in this room right next to your other items that he had lying around.

Hiccup hadn’t given up hope in finding you. He spent every waking moment he could trying. But, he found everyone but you. He found his mother; he’d hoped maybe you were there too. In some secret dragon sanctuary but no. She was the only human and she hadn’t seen you. He had a separate map for you; he’d tracked countless Woolly Howls and where they’d spend their time. A few times he thought he was close, he was sure of it, but nothing. Your clothes had lost their smell and even if they hadn’t, he doubts Toothless or any of the other dragons could track it through the blizzards.

You hadn’t stopped either. You traveled whenever you could, only stopping when Beeboo needed to rest. But, your sense of direction was still as shit as it was when you still lived on Berk. It felt like you found everything but your home. Even found some weird dragon place that looked like a nice place to live. But they weren’t exactly taking newcomers and you didn’t want to stay.

Even more unfortunate for you; you’d managed to get trapped by dragon hunters after falling asleep while Beeboo flew over a stretch of ocean. Apparently, she got curious about a boat and went to inspect it. Beeboo had protected you when they found and trapped her, hiding you in her wings so you wouldn’t get caught or hurt.

Currently, you’re catching the last bit of your rest. You’d been up for nearly a whole day and, Odin, were you tired. But the smell of fire had woken you up and it made Beeboo stirr uneasy with the flames she was seeing. You began to crawl out from under her wings when you heard the gate lock slide open and then the gate slowly opened.

BeeBoo growled, holding you close as you heard two footsteps get closer. It was from one person, but one of the steps sounded heavier than the other. The other half step had a sort of metal sound to it. Metal hitting metal rather than leather-bound feet. The person sighs; this sort of annoyed sigh you do when BeeBoo goes fishing without you and brings up eel.

“Hey, easy girl.” Peering out from the wing, you see a man walking up to BeeBoo and slipping out, pointing your sword at the man’s neck. His back is illuminated by the lamps, face is hidden in the darkness of the cage.

“Another rider?” He asks and his voice is so familiar. His voice is one you hear when you sleep, one you’ve spent years trying to find again. With wide eyes you drop your sword and remove your helmet, it clunks as it hits the floor, rolling between you and Hiccup. Hiccup falters, eyes widening as he recognizes you within seconds. You’re messy, sure. Your hair is different, unkept and there are bits of ice inside of it, your lips are chapped and your clothes are wet from the melting ice.

But it’s you.

“(Y/n)?” He breathes and you rush into a hug, holding him close. He hugs you, lifting you from your feet and you laugh, doing the same when he sets you down.

“I’ve been looking for you,” You sob, slipping your hands under his helmet which he quickly tosses off. “I’ve never stopped looking.” Holding his hand, your fingers wrap around the glove, his warmth feeling like a beacon.

“Me neither,” He pulls his head back, tears in his eyes. “I never stopped.” Laughing out another sob, you hold his face and take him in. His gloved fingers slide across your face, brushing your hair away so he can take you in before his lips crash into yours. They’re so incredibly warm and he tastes like home, gods, you’ve never been happier to be locked in a cage before.

He pulls you closer, your tears mixing together on your face, ignoring whatever is going on outside because fuck that. You just got each other back.

BeeBoo makes a noise she only makes when there’s danger around and you pull away. Grabbing Hiccup’s helmet first, he takes it while you grab yours, quickly putting it back on and grabbing your sword when you see guards rushing over. Hiccup fixes his helmet into place and guides you out, his hand never leaving yours.

“Attack!”

“Get the rescues out of here!” Hiccup shouts as you leave the cage and Toothless drops down next to him. You beckon BeeBoo to follow Toothless, trusting Hiccup's judgment of his dragon with yours.

“Okay. Who’s that?” Astrid asks but Hiccup just smiles and flicks his helmet down, his sword igniting in a fire. Your sword isn’t nearly as cool as his, but BeeBoo blasts it with ice that creates a jagged blade.

“Stay close,” His voice is a plea that you agree to without hesitation, the two of you fighting as if you’d never been separated. He goes low while you go high, disarming threats as they attack. Toothless and BeeBoo work together as well, BeeBoo freezes them into place while Toothless launches them into cages.

Hiccup swings his sword, bringing a guard's sword to the ground and you tackle the guy, tossing him into a nearby cage. With him knocked out, you turn around and see Hiccup struggling under the guards; Toothless is in the middle of helping the twins so you rush over, jumping on one of the guy's backs to pull him off and down.

He fairs better with the one guy while you wrestle the second into a pinned position.

“You okay?” Hiccup breathes, his guy knocked into the cage of the first guy.

“Yeah,” Nodding, you toss the guy's ax away and pick him up. “I’m just used to fighting dragons.”

“You fight dragons?” He asks and you laugh, fixing your clothes.

“BeeBoo likes to wrestle but she doesn’t know her own weight.” Ducking under another guard, you kick his legs out and Hiccup keeps him down with his fire sword.

“Yeah,” He nods, his head bobbing like it always did when he was younger. “I wrestle with Toothless all the time.” For a second, he joins Toothless in taking down a small group and you glance around for your dragon. She’s fine, freezing a broken cage into place.

“Dragons are such babies!” Punching a rogue guard that had escaped Snotlout, you watch as he falls down.

Somehow you managed to get back to Astrid; although it’s not that big of a ship. You and Hiccup send your dragon to get the others while you deal with the last of the guards.

“I thought this was supposed to be a stealth mission,” Astrid rolls her eyes as she walks up, swinging her around around. “And who is that?”

“Yeah, they always start that way—“

“Look out!” The three of you split up as a spear gets shoved where you once stood before a dragon takes the man away and drops him into the water. “Thanks, Stormfly! Who is that?” Once again, Astrid looks at you and you wave.

“Long time no see,” You grin, lifting the visor of your helmet. She gasps and looks at Hiccup who nods, squeezing your hand.

“Move out! We got ‘em all!” Hiccup tells the others and the fight immediately stops; the others find their dragons with ease. You wonder how many times they’ve done this; it seems very well rehearsed. Calling for BeeBoo, you latch onto her tail before she takes up into the sky.

You wait for Hiccup, blasting a group of guards that had cornered him just as Toothless barrels into the ones BeeBoo hadn’t gotten. You smile when he joins you, nodding to where the others are waiting for him and for you. You look over at them and smile, wiping your face. Joining the others, you’re given a warm welcome by them all— and a very long apology from Snotlout that you promised wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t his fault you got separated and then kidnapped by a dragon. It could happen to anyone really. Hell, it happened to Hiccup's mom from what she tells you as you’re flying.

“Wanna ride with me?” Hiccup asks when you’re coasting through the air. You’d been flying side by side with him but that wasn’t close enough and obviously, he felt the same way. Nodding, you stand on BeeBoo and take his hand, letting him guide you onto Toothless.

“Where’re we going?” You ask, laying your head on his shoulder. He squeezes your hand that’s on his waist as he looks back at you; his lips brushing against your lips.

“Home. We’re going home and I am never letting you go again.”

#x male reader #x reader #hiccup haddock x male reader #hiccup haddock x reader #hiccup x male reader #how to train your dragon #httyd x male reader #httyd x reader

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redsrooftopprincess · 1 day ago

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SOBBINF I LOVE YOUR DISABILITY HEADCANONS SO MUCH,, MIKEY'S IS A STRAIGHT PUNCH TO THE GUT <33

May I possibly request reader x Mikey where they find out how he copes and helps make him feel more comfortable? Maybe they find him stoned and snuggles are just exactly what he needs at the moment? Possibly even attempting to help him through his unhealthier coping mechanisms? Bonus points if reader has depression as well!

Of course, no rush and you totally don't gotta do this if you don't want!! Headcanons or one-shot would be rad either way, if you are interested in this req!

Your writing is just so real and I love it so much oml. You are doing AMAZING (in general- as a fanfic writer as well I understand the effort that goes into this stuff and maintaining a regular life ontop of it) and thank you for all your hard work!!

I hope this is okay! 😅

Crushed

Warnings: Drugs/Alcohol, Inebriation

"That's what this is, isn't it? A drive by?" he says, standing, and putting his clothes back on.

You're on the couch in the club's green room, after the best sex of your life. The party ended hours ago, and in your E induced haze, you'd taken his hand and dragged him down here.

"What? No! Why would you-?" You swing your legs over the side of the couch and walk over to him a little unsteadily, "Mike, no..." He doesn't look up at you. "I mean... is that what you want it to be?" You ask, hesitantly.

"That's what it is," he says simply.

You swallow and inhale, tears threatening.

He finishes putting on his belt and looks up at you, he tries to ignore the tears in your eyes. Regret, that's all it is, that you ever let him touch you. It didn't matter, it was almost sunrise, "That's what it is," he repeats, "That's always what it is."

You hear it, the bitterness, the acceptance in his voice. He just doesn't have it in him to hide it tonight. It breaks your heart. "Michaelangelo, please..."

"Look, it's almost morning. I gotta get back underground. I'll see you Wednesday," he said, not really sounding like he was looking forward to the next party. He leaves before you can protest further.

He knows what you're going to say. He's a great guy, but he's not exactly normal, you know? He's not exactly someone you can bring home to meet the folks. And he really doesn't need to hear it. He gets it. He does. And he feels like shit would be a lot easier if he didn't. If he didn't know *exactly* how unwanted he is. Only good for a good trip, and a decent fuck, if you're feeling adventurous. He snatches a bottle off the empty bar as he makes his way out into the alley.

It had to be you tonight. He already hadn't been in the best place when the party started, so there was no resistance when you took his hand. On a good day, you could lead him into hell, and he'd follow with a smile on his face. On a night like tonight, he'd thank you. You're friends, but in these circles the line between friend and lover blurs easily. You've slept together a number of times and he always leaves right after. You mean everything to him, so he'd let you do anything to him. Use him however you like. As long as he doesn't have to hear you let him down easy.

You dress quickly. You know what's happening. It keeps happening. He's shutting down. Shutting you out. He assumes you got what you wanted, end of transaction, and honestly the sex was great, it's *always* great, but what you want is him. Not sex. And your not letting him run away. Not this time.

You follow him down into the sewers, and find him sitting against the wall of one of the tunnels, knees curled up to his chest and tears staining the fabric beneath his eyes. You startle him and he tries to get up to face whatever might be attacking him, but stumbles, drunk.

He sits back down once he realizes it's you. Now everything is so much worse. He never wanted you to see him like this. He didn't need you to feel bad for him. You ask him what's wrong and he doesn't want to talk about it. You say that's okay, and move the bottle out of reach, sitting next to him.

You sit together in silence for a few minutes. You're terrified that saying the wrong thing will send him running from you faster.

"Mike-"

"I don't wanna talk about it, okay?" He gets up to leave, taking the bottle with him, and has to catch himself on the wall when he sways.

You sigh and stand, but don't move to follow him, "Why not?"

"Because there's no point."

"Why not?"

"Because you..." He looks at you and his heart clenches, he sighs, "forget it." He stumbles a few steps away and stops with a heavy sigh, "I can pretend all I want, and so can the rest of you, like I'm normal... I'm not," he turns around to look at you, his face a mask of escalating pain and injustice as his fists clench tight, "I'm not. I'm not normal. I'll never be normal..." he shakes his head with a sickening smirk, "It's just a game. Everyone gets dressed up to be freaks for a night and we dance and drink and trip and fuck, and at the end of the night, everyone else gets to stop playing and go home because they can. But I can't take the costume off," he says, grabbing his plastron where it meets his chest, "This isn't fucking make up. I can't even walk around in the FUCKING DAYLIGHT!!!" He roars, hurling the bottle he's holding against the wall of the tunnel, a shard of glass ricochets back and cuts his cheek. "I'm not a person. I'm the fucking party mascot." He spits, venomously,

You take a step forward, "Mike, you know that's not true."

Bitter laughter echoes in the enclosed space. "Funny. That's... That's funny. Really. Because I've been coming to these parties, meeting people, for seven years now. I've watched *seventeen* people end up just like Sarah and Ben." Your friends had been celebrating their engagement tonight, Michaelangelo had introduced them at a party three years ago.

"I don't get to have that... I'll *never* get to have that," he chokes, "even as a joke. Honestly, at this point I'd take a joke. I'm already pretending to be a person, wouldn't be that hard of a jump to pretend to be loved, too. I'd just have to find someone willing to lie to me..."

He trails off and the silence that hangs in the air once the echoes of his voice fades is heavy and oppressive.

"Like I said, there's no fucking point..." He turns around and starts walking down the tunnel towards home, one hand on the wall for support. "Don't worry, I'll be back to all smiles by Wednesday. We can pretend like this never happened. This doesn't have to be a thing and you don't have to pretend whether or not it matters if I'm okay." He hears you take a step toward him, "Go home, Y/N," he calls back without turning around.

Fine. If he's going to leave anyway, you have nothing to lose. "No."

"Okay, fine," he sighs continuing down the tunnel, "do whatever you want."

"Okay," you say, simply, as you begin to follow him.

He stops, shoulders tight, face toward the ceiling, and sighs heavily, "What are you doing?"

"Whatever I want?" you reply, closing the distance.

He turns to face you, tired and hurting. If you want to go another round, he isn't exactly in a place where he can say no. At the very least, he could use the dopamine. He used to imagine it would be different with you. He should have known better. Jaw tight, he sighs before reaching for his belt.

Your eyes widen as you realize what he thinks you're implying, your heart shattering all over again. You bring your hand up to rest gently on his, stilling his movements. His eyes meet yours. Hesitant. Guarded. Unsure of what you're playing at. Your hand tightens gently around his as you step forward, and he tenses as if he might run.

You reach up, and pull him down into your arms. He stiffens for a moment, he's already hanging on by a thread, but he can't help it, it's you. Instinct takes over, wrapping his arms around you and buying his face in your hair.

You feel his grip tighten as the dam breaks, and despite his best efforts at keeping his shit under control, a ragged sob rips through him.

You hold him as he cries, moving the two of you back to sitting against the tunnel wall. Eventually, the tears dry up, and he pulls himself away. He quiet for a long time, and looks down at his hands in his lap. He can't even look at you, ashamed and embarrassed. You didn't deserve that. To feel obligated to take care of him. You have better shit to do than this.

You reach up and twist one of the tails off his mask around your fingers, tugging once, gently. It draws his attention, and he meets your eyes, begrudgingly. You reach up and wipe the blood from his cheek, meeting his eyes again. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sorry, I..."

You hush him gently and sit up on your knees. Taking his face in your hands, you bring him down to you, kissing his forehead.

He doesn't get it. Why are you being so nice to him. You got what you wanted, why did you follow him? Why are you comforting him? Why do you even care? He looks at you in bewilderment.

"Tell you what," you say, "I'm not super comfortable with the idea of leaving you alone right now, and it's going to rain, and I don't want to get flooded out down here, so... What do you say we head back to my place. I can order us a pizza, and we can watch a movie, and you can head home once you're feeling a bit more sober stable..." You smile, you hope persuasively.

"Yeah... Okay..." He says, as you help him to his feet. You aren't wrong. It is going to rain, and as fucked up as he is, traversing this set of tunnels in particular will be a little iffy if the storm drains start to flood.

You bring him home. You do exactly as you say. Pizza. Movie. Ice cream for good measure. He's not sure what to do. He's usually the one doing the entertaining, and now here you are making sure he was happy and comfortable.

It takes time, but by the end of the movie, Mikey's mostly sobered up, both physically and emotionally. You even get a genuine smile out of him as sunrise looms and he begins to make his way out.

"So... thanks... for this," he says, looking at you softly. It was probably the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him.

You smile, walking him to the window. "Anytime," you say, taking his hand and turning to face him as you come to the window, "and I mean that. Next time you get into that headspace will you do me a favor and try to reach for a phone instead of a bottle?"

He smirks, nodding, "no promises, but I'll try."

"Thank you," you say as he reaches for the window. You touch his arm, gently "hey, one last thing," he steps back from the window to face you, and you stand up on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. It's simple, sweet, honest, "there's no reason you can't have what Sarah and Ben have," you whisper, before pulling away.

He freezes. He's misunderstood. There's no way you're saying what it sounds like your saying, because it's what he wants you to be saying, so there's no *way* it could actually be what you're saying... Right?

You watch the torrent of emotions play out in his eyes, and you reach up to tug n on his mask. "Sunrise, Sunshine." You say.

"Sunrise..." He repeats before he blinks, shaking his head, "Right. Yeah. Sunrise. I, uh, I'll see you -

"Wednesday."

"Tomorrow."

You say at the same time, before you laugh nervously under his gaze, "If, you know, you're not busy." You don't want to have to wait until Wednesday.

Hope flickers in his eyes. It's tiny and buried under so much hurt and insecurity, but it's definitely there, "I, uh, yeah... I mean, I gotta work, but I'll be wrapping up around two... so, if you're still up..."

"I'll be up," you say quickly, and he can't help but smile as both of your faces grow warm and you laugh gently.

"Okay... I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then," he says quietly, almost in disbelief. Is this... What? What is this? He doesn't know, but it feels... better. Warm. Comforting. The things you said, the things you did for him tonight, this... He wants more of this. He'll do whatever he has to to have more of this.

You can't help the grin that brightens your face. "Until tomorrow, then," you say, and kiss him one last time before he slips out into the desaturated predawn light, and is gone.

.....

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins

#bayverse tmnt #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse michaelangelo #michaelangelo x reader #TMNT Michaelangelo

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quinnverse · 2 days ago

Text

"Have you lost function of your eyelids, too? Just close them, you imbecile!" She spat, resisting the urge to toss one of the pillows on her bed at him. For such a seemingly smart man, he had a knack for being dense, and primarily around her. If she wasn't in such a compromising position, she might've relished in the fact that she unnerved him so much. Throwing a man off-kilter was a win to some degree, but not when it meant he wandered into her bedchamber unannounced.

I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! Her fingers curled into fists as the temptation to hurl something larger at him swelled in side her.

“Oh, forgive me for leaving my own damn bedroom door unlocked in my own damn house!" Forgetting herself for a second, Emma allowed her voice to rise until she heard the timbre echo within the walls of her room. When this day was over, she would make sure her father knew his time needed to be up soon. She couldn't tolerate sharing a roof with John Bolton any longer.

Such thoughts had been plaguing her enough over the past few days that she'd even gone ahead and penned a letter to her cousins, to tell them she might be visiting again sooner rather than later. Her aunt wouldn't mind, not when Emma's presence usually managed to keep both Ned and Belle in check--somewhat. Emma hadn't gotten around to sending it yet, the mere presence of the letter laying flatly on her writing desk was enough to quell the irritation for now.

But that had been before he'd traipsed into her room while she was changing. Before he had kissed her in the barn, and gotten upset with her for flirting with his friend. Their embarrassing encounters only seemed to multiply by the day and she found herself wishing for a messenger pigeon or anything to deliver her message across the pond as quickly as possible. She couldn't stand being around him any longer.

“I did not ask you to kiss me, you swine. There was no invitation.” She grumbled. There had certainly been a hope, but no invitation. Even so, she hadn't pushed him away quite quickly enough to hide her enjoyment of it. If she hadn't come to her senses when she did, Emma couldn't be sure how far she would've let him go before she realized the severity of the situation. Especially when he was confessing things to her that no average woman should hear, let alone want to hear. But Emma never claimed to be a normal woman. "Besides, we both know I, of all people, would not be so quick to consider you an intellectual."

After a moment, she let out a frustrated groan. It would be easier to grab her dirtied chemise off the floor just to save her pride, but Emma knew it would never be that easy. He had already embarrassed her and she wasn't about to let him get away unscathed. Even if it was at the cost of her own sanity, she'd make him pay for this.

“My wardrobe…” She began, her arms clutching tighter around her torso. “It’s by the door. Your eyes clearly aren’t in working order so I wouldn’t expect you to notice. But…” She couldn’t believe this was happening, that this was the way she was going about things. At this point, she'd be better off inviting him into her bed instead of tormenting the both of them, but she pressed on.

“May you please fetch a chemise for me? Or anything, really. A damned blanket would suffice right now.” She waited until he turned away again, watching him like she were a cornered animal and he were the enemy. Before she could think better of it, she felt her lips open and a childish mumble tumbled out.

“You could at least pretend you came for something more. It would, at the very least, make the embarrassment would be worth something.”

“But I suppose this makes us even. Truly even. I’ve seen you without a shirt and now, begrudgingly, you’ve seen me without one. Both circumstances, might I remind you, were your doing. For someone who refuses invitations so adamantly, you're certainly determined to have one of us give in to temptation. It's like you’re trying to make me seem like a harlot.”

Emma's seething request to shut the door took Benjamin off-guard, and glancing over his shoulder, he sucked a breath once he noted the blatant view of the hall. How in God's name had he forgotten the bloody door?!

"I...I-I can't get up without seeing you!" he bit back, concerned she might immediately start lobbing projectiles at him again. Nevertheless, with an awkward shuffle, he remained on his hands and knees and skittered back toward the door, his right leg extending before he nudged it shut.

“What the devils is wrong with you?” Emma snarled.

Still refusing to lift his head, lest he see what she was so clearly trying to conceal, Benjamin growled toward the floorboards, "Me? I'm not the one who left my damned door unlocked! I thought this was my bedroom!"

Emma remained unconvinced. “Was accosting me in the barn not enough for you? Now you have to invade my bedroom while I’m undressing?”

He scoffed, lifting his head enough to see her fiery gaze. "You did not seem accosted in that barn," he volleyed. "Most intellectuals would call what you gave an invitation."

That seemed to jolt through Emma akin to a livewire. She balled her fists and snarled, “If you’re here to take up my previous offer, I regret to inform you that the invitation has since expired. And I would’ve at the very least appreciated a bloody knock. A few moments later and you would've bore witness to far more than you deserve.”

"I told you: I thought this was my room!" Benjamin exclaimed, exasperated. "And I am not here for your so-called offer, so you can get off your bloody high horse! Is the fact I'm on my hands and knees not proof enough?"

Wishing she would grab her damnable chemise -- why did she persist in remaining half-dressed?! -- Benjamin ducked his face down into his palms and groaned. "If you would just re-clothe yourself, I could get up and leave," he coolly reminded her. "You're making this far more difficult than it has to be -- I didn't come here for you!"

He'd certainly wound up in the wrong room because of her, absolutely -- he was wholly frazzled after their afternoon gone wrong, and he was embarrassed from his lewd confession in the barn -- so much so that he'd somehow walked right past his own quarters, and stumbled into the proverbial lion's den.

"I don't care if you believe me," Benjamin spoke again. "And although I did not behave as a gentleman this afternoon, that doesn't mean I haven't come to my senses now!"

He certainly wouldn't be making this mistake again any time soon...

#emma dunster ( interactions ).#honorhearted

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p-artsypants · 3 days ago

Text

Fiddle Me This

Ao3 | FF.net

Hamish, former chief of the Shivering Shores, is coming to Berk and has requested Hiccup play some songs he's written over the years. The problem? No one else knew Hiccup could fiddle, and he's never performed for anyone.

The idea for this is completely self-indulgent and comes from the fact that Alexander Rybak does the Norwegian voice for Hiccup. He wrote two songs for the series, including one specifically for Toothless. I can’t just sit here knowing that and NOT write a fic, I mean COME ON. Also, in the Episode with Garf, Hiccup’s song was about Toothless, and he was really enthusiastic about it, making me think he wrote it himself.

This is not historically accurate, but neither is the source material.

Set somewhere during RTTE, before Blindsided.

—

Things had thankfully been slow at the Edge. The Hunters hadn’t been seen in a while, probably regrouping or strategizing. But the anxiety of that unknown was quickly pushed aside with a Terror Mail from Berk.

“Alright gang,” Hiccup stated that morning. “Who’s feeling homesick?”

Fishlegs sheepishly raised his hand, but the rest just kind of looked at each other.

“Well, you’re in luck. We’re heading back to Berk for a little vacation! The Shiver Shores are coming in a week, and they’ll be in Berk for three days. Hamish’s oldest son Hagar has taken over as chief.”

“Is Hamish okay?” Fishlegs asked, as that was the usual reason a tribe had a new chief.

“As far as I know, he’s still alive. Sounds like his health is declining and it was getting hard to keep up with all the duties. Hel, it’s hard when you’re not sick,” Hiccup muttered that last bit to himself.

“When do we leave?” Asked Astrid.

“I’m leaving today,” Hiccup rested his hands on his waist. “Dad specifically asked me to come early to help with some preparations. You guys are welcome to head back on Frigg’s day. Or earlier, if you want. But I’d like someone to stay on the Edge as long as possible.”

“Sweet! Unsupervised vacation!” Tuffnut high fived his sister.

“Uh, no. If you’re staying, you’re doing your jobs. That means patrolling!”

“Boo!”

“Killjoy!”

“What could your dad possibly need you so early for?” Snotlout asked, insult implied.

Hiccup’s face went red, satisfying Snotlout, but the blush was for a totally different reason. “Hamish…specifically requested…I play the fiddle.”

There was a pause. “You have a week to learn the fiddle?” Asked Tuff.

Hiccup sighed. “No, I have a week to brush up on the fiddle.”

Then everyone yelled in unison, “You can fiddle!?”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Yeeeeep.”

“Since when?!” Snotlout demanded. “I’ve known you since we were in diapers, and I’ve never heard you play a single note.”

“Yeah, but how well did you know me before the Red Death?”

“People talk, Hiccup. You’re not that good at keeping secrets.”

“And the Nightfury that spent three months in the woods?”

“A notable exception.”

Hiccup awkwardly played with his hands, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve been playing since … well, since I was able to. My mother played. We had her fiddle at the house, and when I was little, my dad asked if I wanted to learn how to play, explaining that mom had. I was really enthusiastic back then, and so when we went to visit the Shivering Shores a few times a year, he had me take lessons with Hamish.”

“Which is why he requested you play now,” Astrid gathered.

“Yeeeep.”

“So, are you good?” Asked Tuff.

“Oh no, I’m terrible. I’m thinking that I’ll just play with the band. Maybe quietly so they drown me out.”

“I’m sure you’ll be great, Hiccup,” Astrid said fondly. “When was the last time you played?”

He scrunched up his lips in thought. “For anyone? Never. Unless you count Hamish. Or Toothless.” He smiled over at his dragon. “But I sometimes play in my room or at the forge if I need to think something through and need to do something with my hands. I didn’t take it with me when we came out here.”

“So a few months.”

“Give or take.”

Tuffnut snapped his fingers. “The Fiddler on the Roof!”

“Excuse me?”

“What? You never heard the rumor of the Fiddler on the Roof? Ugh! It makes so much sense now!”

“What are you talking about?” Hiccup pressed.

“Okay okay, for years people have been talking about a mysterious fiddler in the village. His music carries over the rooftops, so people assumed he was up high…kinda like the chief’s house on the hill?!” Tuffnut nudged him.

“Th-that can’t be right. It must be someone else.”

Fishlegs pointed out, “no one else on the island plays a fiddle though. You said it yourself that you had to take lessons from Hamish.”

“Yeah, but Silent Sven plays the nyckelharpa and Sigurd plays the Hurdy-Gurdy. What if it was one of them?”

“Nope, not a nyckelharpa,” said Tuff.

“And definitely not a hurdy-gurdy!” Said Ruff.

“Besides, they play in the Great Hall all the time, we know what they sound like,” said Fishlegs.

“And it’s definitely a Fiddler on that Roof.”

Hiccup’s face went even more red, and he covered it with his hands. “Oh gods…people have been hearing me for years!”

“That’s the cool part, H,” said Tuff. “The Fiddler is said to be otherworldly in nature, and some even thought he might be a spirit of music himself.”

“Okay, now you’re just messing with me.”

“Am I?” Tuff wiggled his fingers.

“Look, don’t get too excited, okay? I’ll show my dad where I’m at and he might agree to have a private performance with Hamish. I would never want to subject the village to hear my…” he rolled his hand, looking for the word.

“Screeching?”

“‘Fork-on-dinnerplate’?”

“Dying cat?”

“Yeah,” Hiccup said flatly, “One of those.”

“You know, Hiccup,” said Snotlout. “I never saw you as the type to be musically inclined. But it suits you, I must say. Someone’s gotta play the tales of my awesome battles.”

“And the fact that you sing a solo every Snoggletog doesn’t count because…?”

“Duh, because it’s Snoggletog, a season of giving. And I give the gift of my beautiful tenor.” He gestured to his throat.

“Right,” He sighed. “Anyway, I’m going to get packed. Anyone else coming now?”

“I will,” said Astrid.

“Me too!” Said Fishlegs.

Hiccup looked meaningfully at the Twins and Snotlout.

“What?” Asked Snot. “Yeah, we’ll behave! We’ll even patrol! We’re mature adults that don’t need a babysitter.”

“There was only one word in that sentence that was true,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes and heading out.

Tuff yelled back, “Which one was it? Was it ‘that’?”

An hour later, Astrid, Fishlegs, and Hiccup were packed and ready to head back to Berk. One last chastising for the stragglers, and they were off.

“So…” Fishlegs began, as their trip was underway. “Can I ask more questions about the fiddle?” He squeaked.

Hiccup sighed. “Yeah, I guess. At least I know you two won’t make fun of me for it.”

“Never, Hiccup,” Astrid assured. “I can’t even sing, let alone play an instrument. I bet the muttonheads back at the Edge certainly can’t.”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” he shrugged.

“What songs can you play?”

Hiccup winced. “Not many. I learned how to play some traditional stuff when I was younger, and when I nailed those down and got tired of them, I started doing my own thing.”

“…what’s your own thing?” Astrid asked.

“Well, I uh…I made up my own songs. Not really writing anything down, but developing a melody I liked…putting some words to it. That kind of thing.”

“You should perform those!” Said Fishlegs, enthusiastically. “I bet people would want to hear a Hiccup original over the same thing we hear all the time!”

He scoffed. “No, you got it all wrong. They aren’t good, Fishlegs! Like…I know you come up with little songs about Meatlug, right?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you perform those in front of the tribe?”

“Ha! No way! Not unless Meatlug was having a panic attack and I needed to calm her down.” He laid on his dragon, giving her a hug. “Then in that case, no crowd could stop me.”

“So did you play a lot?” Asked Astrid. “You said you would play to keep your hands busy.”

“Quite a bit,” he admitted. “It’s kind of fun to play, and the music kinda helps me think. But I’m usually not thinking about the fiddle when I’m playing, so I’m sure it sounds like a bunch of random notes just sliding around.”

“But if you practice a lot, it shouldn’t sound that bad,” she reasoned.

“Oh, you’d be surprised…”

The conversation changed then, and they talked about other things for the rest of the flight. Dragon training, the Hunters, there was even an hour long argument about who would win in a fight between three Flightmares and ten Speed Stingers.

Eventually, they reached Berk right before dinner. Gobber and Stoick were waiting for them and greeted them warmly.

“Evening son! Have a good flight?”

Hiccup slid off Toothless, stretching his back. “Good weather, fun company, no complaints.”

“You know…I got your fiddle out for you. It’s on your desk.”

Hiccup barked a laugh. “That didn’t take long. I thought for sure you’d wait to bring it up until after dinner.”

“Well, the others want to start practice after dinner,” Stoick argued. “Thought you might want a little time to make sure she’s all ready to play.”

“Others?”

“Oh you know, Sven, Sigurd, Hackjaw, Frida, Hilda…and Gobber wants to play the pan flute.”

“I love playing the pan flute!” The man cheered.

“Well, I’ll need all the practice I can get. I’m really hoping to just pretend to play, and let the others kind of drown me out.”

Stoick gave him an incredulous look. “What are you talking about son? Why would they need to drown you out?”

“Dad, I’m not good,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Aw this hogwash again? You’re a fine fiddler!”

“A damn fine fiddler!” Gobber added.

“Thanks but—“

“No buts!” Stoick interrupted. “It’s been decided. Through our letters, Hamish and I have been talking. I told him about the songs you wrote.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did! And he’s so excited! He wants to hear all four!”

“DAD!”

“I want to hear ‘em properly too! I like that one about the fairytale, that love song? Oh it gets me in the heart. Makes me think of your mother…” he said wistfully.

“Dad!” Hiccup grabbed his face in horror. Feeling more and more sick as the story went on.

Gobber said, “I asked if the one that’s like, ‘come fly with me! Oh whoa, oh whoa’ was in the line up, because that’s the one I like.”

“You too?” He gaped at Gobber. “You’ve been listening?”

“The backroom to the forge is only separated by a cloth lad, not exactly soundproof.”

“And then the one you wrote for Toothless,” Stoick suggested.

Hiccup furrowed his brow, he’d actually come up with a dozen little songs about Toothless. “Which one?”

“Oh you played it for a week straight during our first Snoggletog with the dragons! You built that tail for Toothless, and you were so heartbroken that he was gone…”

“Oh Thor, that one?”

“It was so sweet, lad! No need to be embarrassed.”

“Ugh! And dare I ask about the last one?”

Stoick gave him this weirdly proud smile, “Oh you know which one I’m talkin’ about.”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking,” Hiccup droned.

Stoick glanced at Astrid, before leaning in to speak into Hiccup’s ear.

Fishlegs and Astrid had to assume it was beyond embarrassing as Hiccup’s face flushed a vibrant red and his eyes went wide. “You heard that?”

Stoick giggled, “how could I not? You sang with so much passion!”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Stoick patted his shoulder. “Everyone gets a little stage fright, son.”

“What about stage paralysis?” He asked.

“We’ll have an hour of music during dinner on the first night. The rest of the band has already figured out all the other music to play. Now, all they need is to hear your songs so they best know how to accompany you.”

“And the songs that they’re playing?”

“You know them. And you know how to make it up if you don’t.”

“You, sir, are putting way too much faith in me.”

“No. You,” he poked Hiccup’s chest, “aren’t putting enough faith in yourself.”

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m the best fiddler on Berk.”

Fishlegs squeaked, “Aren’t you the only—”

“That’s my point, Fish!” He scratched his head. “Look, I’ll see you guys around. I’m gonna go…fiddle with the fiddle.”

Gobber chuckled, “an oldie, but a goodie.”

As Astrid watched Hiccup and Toothless depart up to the chief’s house, “He’s really good then, chief?”

“Aye! As he is with all his artistic endeavors.”

“The Halls of Valhalla are filled with bards that wished they played as well as him!” Gobber declared.

“So why does he think he’s bad?” Asked Fishlegs. “How can he not notice?”

“Well, you’ve got to look at it from his perspective. Hiccup has always compared himself to others. I’m at fault for that, as well as most in the village. We always told him he wasn’t as good as others at fighting. But he’s taken it to the level of all his skills. You think he’s talented at drawing and smithing, right?”

“Absolutely.”

“But to him, he’s ‘just good enough’ because he’s compared himself to others and decided he’s not as good. I think that’s why he’s so gung-ho about Dragon Training. No one else has ever befriended a Nightfury, therefore, no one to compare to.”

“Wow,” Astrid said sadly. “I never thought of it that way before.”

“With his fiddle, he learned from Hamish, who’s a fantastic fiddler. Hiccup could never quite get the technique the man had. The only other comparisons are Sven and Sigurd, and they’re quite good too. But their instruments sound different from Hiccup’s. He can’t do what they do, therefore, he’s bad.”

“Now I’m depressed,” said Fishlegs. “I never knew this about Hiccup.”

“Oh don’t let it get your skivvies in a twist. Hiccup’s drive to find his place in the village is what drove him to Toothless afterall, right? And look at how he’s doing now!”

Distantly, Astrid could hear it. Someone playing the scales on the fiddle, the notes sliding into place. A note played alone, over and over, and then the next.

“Ah, sounds like it needs some tuning,” Stoick observed. “That’ll bother him all night.”

She wanted to listen. She wanted to sneak over and just watch and listen. But that wouldn’t be fair to him if he was so self-conscious. Maybe this will get him out of his shell, and he’ll be more willing to share his music with her.

Astrid’s parents were having dinner up at the Great Hall, and she happily joined them, catching up with them about all the things that had been happening at the Edge.

As she ate, she watched as Stoick and Hiccup arrived, bowls in hand. Hiccup wore a wooden case on his back, attached with a leather strap.

His fiddle.

It was one thing to have him tell them about it, but to see it…

Then again, this was still just the case. It would be completely different once he was actually holding it and playing it.

He set the case down on a table over by the wall, where she could see other instrument cases sitting and waiting for practice. Then he went and sat with his father at the head table.

“You’ve been away from the boy for an hour and you can’t take your eyes off of him,” Phlegma Hofferson teased.

Astrid whirled around, red faced, and hushed her mother. “Don’t say stuff like that!”

Her father laughed. “Oh, like everyone doesn’t remember you planting a big ol’ wet kiss on him after the dragon war.”

“That was years ago!” She hissed.

“And you’ve only grown fonder of him, no?”

“Ugh.” Astrid’s head smacked lightly on the table. “You two are impossible.”

“We are? Sure dear. But when are you two just going to make it official? You know we’re ready to pay your dowry whenever Stoick’s got the bride price.”

Astrid rubbed her temples. “Look—you’re not…totally wrong about how I feel…but I haven’t said anything, and I’m waiting on Hiccup to make the move.”

“Dear, you’ll be old by then.”

“Give him some credit! He’s got a lot on his mind.”

“I hope he’s got you on his mind too,” Phlegma smirked. “Have you tried seducing him?”

“Mother!” Astrid damn near screamed.

“Sorry dear, sorry. We’ll drop it for now.” Phlegma and Axel shared a smug look.

Astrid doubted they were done with the topic for this trip. If Hiccup was going to be busy in rehearsals most days, then she’d have to find a way to avoid her parents.

Maybe Fishlegs would be up for some fun instead of spending it in the library?

After dinner, Astrid hung around the Hall, even as her parents left.

The rest of the band was setting up. Sigurd and Sven had their strings, Hackjaw had his drums, Frida had the lute, Hilda on the horn, Bard on the mandolin, Bucket had a shaker, and Gobber had his pan flute.

And Hiccup was just sitting by them, not making any move to his case. In fact, he kept glancing around to the other non-band folks in the Hall, waiting for them to leave.

Then his eyes met hers.

She waved and smiled.

He ducked his head sheepishly.

Astrid felt a pang in her chest. It was so heartbreaking to see Hiccup this embarrassed. It was almost like the old days, before Toothless.

Toothless.

The dragon wasn’t in the Great Hall. He was probably frolicking with the other dragons, or just with Stormfly and Meatlug. But if anyone was going to give him the courage to do this, it was Toothless!

Astrid got up and went to find him. Though, it didn’t take long at all. He was sprawled out on the grass on the hill.

“Pst! Toothless!”

He perked up, looking at her, ears up at attention.

“Hiccup’s inside!” She pointed.

He leapt to his feet and trotted over.

“Now,” she told him, “he’s going to be working hard and practicing music with the others inside, but he’s nervous about it, so you’re going to support him, okay?”

Toothless was the smartest dragon she knew. Sometimes with the looks he gave, she swore he was going to open his mouth and speak perfect Norse. Right now was one of those times. He gave her this look, like he knew exactly what she was saying and what needed to happen. He nudged her arm with his nose and then plodded into the Great Hall and over to Hiccup.

Hiccup lit up when he saw his friend, and greeted him with a chin scratch.

Toothless laid at his feet, paws crossed elegantly.

Hiccup chuckled, and then looked over to her, still standing in the doorway.

Astrid gave him the thumbs up and a wide reassuring smile.

Hiccup returned it, though not as confident. But he did get up and go to the fiddle case.

Astrid decided to leave and give him his privacy. Toothless was all the support he needed right now, and anymore attention would just make him crumble.

A few minutes later, Hilda put a sign on the door. ‘Practice in session, do not disturb.’

So now it was a waiting game. Hiccup obviously wasn’t going to give out any sneak previews. Though she did try to keep an eye on him.

—

As the week went on, she noticed happily that his demeanor had changed quite a bit. He stood up straighter when he went into practice, and he talked freely with the band, like he was one of them instead of an intruder.

Astrid wondered if someone had said something to him, or if just having Toothless around was making a difference.

The band practiced for a few hours after dinner every night. Even with the doors closed, the faintest music could be heard. Astrid didn’t know enough about instruments to know if she was hearing a fiddle or nyckelharpa or hurdy-gurdy.

She actually wasn’t really sure what those last two were.

During the day, Hiccup was mostly helping with preparations. She often saw him helping someone or another in the town.

But there were a few hours a day where he couldn’t be found. He wasn’t at his father’s house or the Great Hall.

“Hey Chief,” she greeted. “Have you seen your son around?”

“Nope,” he smiled. “He’s gone off to find a place to practice.”

“He’s really taking this fiddle performance to heart, isn’t he?”

“Sure is,” he continued smiling, seemingly proud at the thought. “Hiccup’s a viking, though he might protest. He’s as bullheaded and stubborn as the lot of us. When he doesn’t want to do something, he fights and protests the whole way. But when he finds a reason to want to do something, he dives in, head first, and puts his whole being into it.”

“Yeah,” Astrid agreed. “I’ve seen that. And he’s good about finding a reason to do something.”

“We’re friends with the Shivering Shores, our alliance isn’t in any trouble. But Hiccup knows I’m good friends with Hamish, and he has a lot of respect for the man. I think it might break his heart if he disappointed him.”

“Hiccup has always valued other’s opinions,” she supposed.

“And…” Stoick drawled, a keen smile on his face. “I happen to know one of the songs he’s got is a love song. Maybe he wants it just right to convey a message?”

Astrid flushed red. “T-t-to who?”

“Ah, I’m joking,” he patted her back, though the smile didn’t go away.

Stoick had read her like a book. He knew there was something going on between them, even if that ‘something’ had been in a weird limbo for years.

She looked away, shyly. “Well, anyways, I’m excited to see him perform.”

“Aye, me too, lass. Should be memorable!”

—-

Snotlout and the Twins arrived the next day, one day before the Shivering Shores’ arrival. Despite what Astrid was expecting, they seemed to have forgotten all about Hiccup’s fiddle secret, as no one brought it up.

They had dinner together in the Great Hall, which was now decorated with fresh flowers and garland.

“So,” Hiccup began, sitting down with a plate of chicken and veggies. “How’s the Edge? Everything still quiet?”

“You think anything is quiet with these dunderheads?” Snotlout jabbed a thumb over at the twins. “But as for our enemies, we didn’t see anything.”

“Did the twins cause any—”

“The answer is yes, and you don’t want to know. We’ll talk about it on the way back, I already did my part.”

Hiccup sighed. “Well, thank you, Snotlout. I knew I could trust you to watch the Edge while we were away.”

Snotlout sat up straight at this praise and started to smile. “I did do a good job, didn’t I? Hey, maybe you shouldn’t even worry about coming back to the Edge. Your dad seemed really stressed and you should—”

“Nice try, but I’m definitely going back.”

Snotlout folded his hands behind his head. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“How goes the fiddling practice?” Asked Fishlegs.

Astrid flinched heavily, ready to punch him.

“Oh yeah!” Said Snotlout. “You’ve got a little recital coming up, don’t you?”

“Hiccup: Live in Concert!” Said Tuffnut, enthusiastically. “I’ve been thinking about it all week!”

“Tomorrow during dinner.” Hiccup nodded, looking sheepish. “I think it’ll be okay. I’m really nervous, but…I found a really good tactic to distract myself.”

“And that is…?”

“I play to Toothless, specifically. He really likes music, and almost dances to it. It’s kind of adorable. So I just watch him.”

Astrid tried not to seem too proud. After all, it was her that encouraged Toothless to join that first rehearsal.

“So what are ya gonna play?” Tuffnut asked. “Silvard had a Little Yak?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes, but retorted smugly, “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Did your dad convince you to play the songs you wrote?” Fishlegs asked, again making Astrid want to hit him.

Hiccup sighed. “Yep.”

“Hold on,” said Snot. “You wrote songs?”

“Sure. Didn’t you write a few for Garf?”

“That’s totally different,” Snotlout laughed. “I never expected to perform them for anyone. Oh this is rich. I can’t wait until you see what we have in store for you tomorrow!”

Hiccup felt pale. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“Nothing much,” said Tuff. “Just a little surprise.”

“You’ll love it,” insisted Ruffnut.

“Somehow, I doubt that completely.”

—

Great ships with black sails arrived at the docks the next day. Hiccup stood with Stoick to greet the guests, while Astrid stood a little ways away for emotional support. Hiccup had foregone the leather armor, as requested by his father, and went back to his fur vest. His hair was still a mess, despite combing it for twenty minutes. It was probably stuck in place for ever thanks to Toothless’ saliva.

Hamish, a man as big as Stoick, disembarked first, using a cane to get around. “Stoick! My old friend!”

“Good to see you, Hamish! Have a nice trip?”

“Oh yes, very peaceful. Ever since your boy made peace with the dragons, sailin’ around has been a breeze! Of course, that doesn’t hurt.” He pointed at the three dragons leashed to the ship, having pulled it. They were all getting fish and scratches from the rest of the crew.

Hiccup smiled proudly.

“And look at you, boy-o!” Hamish praised, spotting him. “Shot up like a tree! I wager you’ll be taller than your old man one day.”

“Wouldn’t that be something?” Hiccup chuckled.

“Well you’ve grown into a fine young man, are your fiddling skills set to match?”

Hiccup’s smile faltered. “Hamish, I’m going to do my best, but I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as you.”

“Hiccup…” Stoick reprimanded.

“You aren’t me, lad!” Hamish said joyfully. “I could never tame a dragon like you did! Let alone smith a tail! You have a lot of skills that you’ve honed over the years. Your father just said you never gave up the instrument, so I want to see what you’ve got!”

That seemed to relieve Hiccup more than any other words had up until now. He smiled genuinely and said, “thanks for understanding.”

Hagar, the new chief of the Shivering Shores disembarked a moment later and came to stand by his dad. He was just as large, but had no gray in his beard. He greeted Hiccup and Stoick with a wide smile.

“Incoming dragons!” The lookout called, pointing out over the sea.

Hiccup and Astrid narrowed their eyes, looking at the two dragons coming in.

“Is that…?” Astrid asked.

“Oh gods,” Hiccup moaned.

Before they even landed, a voice called boisterously. “BROTHER!”

“H-hey Dagur…” Hiccup waved awkwardly.

“Dagur of the Berserkers?” Asked Hamish. “What a pleasant surprise! What are you doing here?”

“Hamish! You’re looking well!” Dagur and Shattermaster landed at the docks while Heather landed back by Astrid. “How are you feeling?”

“Oh I’m doing pretty good. Some days are better than others. Been having a lot of great days leading up to this trip!”

“Great to hear!”

“So…what brings you to Berk?” Hiccup asked, dread churning in his gut. He had been on edge since Snotlout and the Twins said they had a surprise for him.

Dagur laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?! We’re here to see your fiddling prowess!”

Hiccup smacked his forehead. “Those muttonheads…”

“Yes, Heather and I came to check in on the Edge a few days ago, and Snothat told us all about what you were doing! Why didn’t you ever tell me you played the fiddle?”

“He didn’t tell any of us,” said Astrid. “Apparently, he’s not very good.” She smirked.

“So he thinks!” Said Stoick.

“Alright, alright. I should have known,” Hiccup groaned. “It’s fine. The more the merrier, right?” He smiled, but it was wobbly.

“And of course it’s always a pleasure to see the Shivering Shores folks, especially after we confirmed our alliance.” He shook Hamish and Hagar’s hands.

“Glad to have Berserker Island back in our good graces,” said Hagar.

“It's all thanks to my sweet baby brother!” Dagur grabbed Hiccup and pulled him into a side hug. “Showed me the error of my ways. Converted me into a real dragon lover. United me with my long lost sister! Oh, such a big and loving heart! The heart of an artist and musician!”

Hiccup wheezed. “You’re too kind, Dagur.”

“Brother?” Asked Hagar with an amused smile.

“Honorary title,” Hiccup wheezed again.

It seemed like Dagur’s praise reframed his arrival to Hagar and Hamish, and they looked a lot more relaxed and amused.

“We’ll only stay tonight,” said Heather. “To watch Hiccup’s performance and give our dragons some time to rest. This is your vacation, after all. We didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Tonight is the best part, anyway!” Said Hagar. “Feasting! Music! Dancing! And barrels of mead!” He gestured to their ship, where several barrels were stacked in a pyramid.

Stoick cheered gleefully.

“Perfect,” said Hiccup, “drunk ears are happy ears.”

Astrid elbowed him.

—-

Dinner time came around far too quickly for Hiccup’s liking, as with most things dreaded.

The band was setting up in front of a support pillar. The tables were arranged in a semi circle around them, with enough space in front to move around. Directly to Hiccup’s left was the head table, where Hamish, Hagar, and his father sat. Next to them, with a front row view, was the table with his friends. They all watched eagerly as Hiccup moved around and talked with the band.

Toothless laid at the front of the table, on his absolute best behavior. His eyes were rounded and soft, as he occasionally stuck his tongue out in excitement.

People were still milling around, getting drinks and sharing food.

No introductions were made yet, no commencement speeches, but Hiccup had his fiddle in hand and walked up to the front of the band. The players watched him, waiting for a queue.

Hiccup nodded his head, put the fiddle to his chin and started a fast paced one note sprint, literally sounding like someone was running. Then Hackjaw came in with several heavy beats of his drum. Then the rest of the band joined, filling the hall with boisterous music.

And to Astrid’s disappointment, mostly drowning out Hiccup. He had taken a few steps back to stand with the group. He had his head bowed, and eyes clenched shut tightly as he played. Occasionally, she thought she could hear that sprinting note from him, but the song seemed to highlight the other members of the band. Frida had an incredible performance on the lute, plucking the notes and a dizzying speed. Same with each member, all having a unique solo to introduce their sound. The band played the same driving melody in the background while Hiccup stayed playing that same note.

The song came to an end, and the crowd was full of cheers.

Hiccup sighed in relief and shared a smile with the other players. They all gave him thumbs up.

“Looks like everyone has found their seats,” said Stoick, his voice booming over the chattering crowd.

Everyone grew silent, ready to listen.

“Tonight, we welcome our dear friends from the Shivering Shores, and celebrate their new era with them. Hagar has shown to be a very capable leader, and will surely follow in his father’s legacy.”

A cheer.

“We honor our friendship with the Shivering Shores, and we’re grateful for the many years Hamish worked with us. As a thank you, we have a special performance prepared. Specially requested from Hamish himself, my son Hiccup will be joining the band tonight on the fiddle.”

Another cheer went up through the crowd, and Astrid swore she heard people say “no way” and “he’s so much like his mother” and even “is there anything he can’t do?”

It made Astrid’s heart swell with pride.

“Many of you older folks may remember that my dear Valka was a fiddler. Well, as a little boy, Hiccup picked up the instrument and got his instruction from Hamish himself, the best fiddler in the archipelago.”

“We’ll see about that!” Hamish laughed.

Stoick grinned. “Hiccup has prepared several unique songs for your listening pleasure this evening. Take it away whenever you’re ready, son.”

Hiccup had his awkward ‘I know I messed up but please don’t be mad at me’ smile on his face as he shuffled closer to the front.

He shrugged and said, “sorry in advance.”

The rest of the band scoffed.

He put the fiddle on his chin, taking several deep breaths. He glanced across the room, lingering on Astrid’s face for a moment.

She gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Then he looked at Toothless, and actually started to smile a little.

He turned to the band, and mouthed something to them, though she couldn’t tell what.

Then he pinched his eyes shut, and set his mouth in a thin line…

And he attacked the fiddle, the bow ripping across the strings with the fervor to make sparks fly if they could. His eyebrows twitched and his nostrils flared as the notes came out rapid fire. His entire body moved with the effort, like it took every fiber of his being to make this wonderful, soul-filling sound.

“Holy—” Snotlout barked.

He briefly turned to the band and bobbed his head to bring them in, and a joyful bouncing beat filled the hall. People started stomping and clapping.

Then the fiddle slowed to a less intense melody, and Hiccup opened his mouth.

“Years ago, when I was younger, I kinda liked a girl I knew.

Thought she was mine and we were sweethearts. That was then, but then it's true…”

The music cut out, except for a few plucks of the fiddle strings.

Then Hiccup belted out, while continuing to play.

“I'm in love with a fairytale! Even though it hurts…

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!”

He returned to that intense dance with the bow, his heel slamming back on the floor with each beat of the drum. He twisted and jerked, like he was fighting with the music.

And he was winning.

“Every day, between the fighting, I could have sworn we fell in love.

No one else could make me sadder, but no one else could lift me high above!

I don't know what I was doing, she let me go, we grew apart…

Nowadays, I cannot brave her…”

He dared to smile.

“But when I do, we'll get a brand new start!”

He pulled on the strings, a high note that conveyed heartache. Astrid felt it in her chest.

“I'm in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts,

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed…”

The band cut out, suddenly, leaving Hiccup to battle the notes on his own. His fingers flew in a flurry, matching the cutting of the bow. Hiccup set his jaw, garnering the strength for the end. A few slower, growing notes, and he sang again.

“She's a fairytale, yeah! Even though it hurts…

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!”

Astrid had no idea he could sing like that, or even hit that note. It struck her to the core, and she sat breathless and stunned as he played his last battle hymn and ended with a flourish.

The hall was deafeningly loud with cheers as Hiccup finally, finally opened his eyes to look around. He seemed surprised as he met everyone’s boisterous cheers.

Dagur launched from his seat and ran to Hiccup, grabbing him in a hug that lifted him off the floor. He laughed maniacally, and Astrid could hear him damn near yell, “that was amazing, brother! The best song I’ve ever heard!”

Hiccup looked kind of pale, she noticed.

Once Dagur set him back on his feet, Hiccup used his shoulder to stand upright.

“Thank you!” He called to the crowd still freaking out.

“Alright, settle down,” Stoick called, laughter in his voice.

Once it got quieter, Hiccup said, “thank you, very much. I wasn’t expecting that kind of reception. I uh…I have some more songs for you, but I’m feeling kind of light headed, so I’m going to sit down for a minute.”

Astrid patted the empty spot beside her, she saved just for him.

He slid into it, awkwardly smiling. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“What the hell, Haddock?!” Snotlout shouted.

“Aww, thanks Snotlout, that means a lot.”

Astrid giggled, and gave Hiccup a pat to the shoulder, the universal ‘I’ll be right back’ sign. She got up and went to get him some water, so he could sit and bask in the praise.

The band, in Hiccup’s absence, played a reprise of his song, though it sounded really weird without the fiddle.

Gobber and Hilda belted the lyrics, in an unflattering harmony.

“I'm in love with a fairytale, even though it hurts,

'Cause I don't care if I lose my mind, I'm already cursed!”

She had been so caught up in the music, in the fact that she was finally hearing Hiccup sing and play, she hadn’t paid attention to the lyrics. It was like they had been in a foreign language.

But now, she understood, and her face turned bright red.

Determined not to be awkward, she returned to her place with the cup of water for him.

“Thank you, milady!” He raised the glass with a big smile. His eyes were twinkling in the firelight, and his cheeks flushed a handsome pink.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, voice a little deeper than intended.

She sat beside him, their arms occasionally brushing in the cramped space. But Astrid really didn’t mind. In fact, she had half a mind to reach over and hold his hand.

“I don't know what I was doing, she let me go, we grew apart…

Nowadays, I cannot brave her…

But when I do, we'll get a brand new start!”

So she didn’t hold his hand. She decided that he needed to make that move. Was it petty after he sang her a love song? Maybe.

Hiccup finished his water, still smiling as the gang animatedly talked. No one broached the yak in the room, ‘hey Hiccup, who was that song about, huh?’ and that was just fine.

Once the band finished their butchered version of his song, Hiccup patted her shoulder and got up. “Wish me luck, gang,” he chuckled.

“You don’t need it,” Ruffnut waved him off.

“Yeah, but Astrid might,” Tuff smirked.

Astrid blushed fiercely. “I don’t know…what y-you’re talking about…” She tried to be casual, but couldn’t make eye contact with them.

“You’re hopeless,” said Heather, fondly.

“Oh shush!”

Hiccup had his fiddle in hand, and played a sharp note to get attention. He looked a lot less nervous now, and looked around at everyone. “This next song is older. I started writing it while I was training Toothless, before anyone else knew about dragons, before the Red Death…back then, I practiced a lot of speeches where I tried to convince everyone that we didn’t need to fight them. I never ended up successfully delivering those speeches, but I did write this anyway.” He nodded to Frida, who strummed the lute, starting the song.

Then Hiccup came in, playing a fast tune again, though it wasn’t as intense as the first. He also didn’t have his eyes closed anymore. He was looking directly at Toothless and slowly walked towards him.

“I have a dream, you are there, high above the clouds somewhere.

Rain is falling from the sky but it never touches you, you're way up high!”

Toothless perked up, his tongue lulling out as he stood, making light little steps in time with the beats. The rest of the band joined as Hiccup continued to play and sing at the same time.

“No more worries no more fear, you have made them disappear,

Sadness tried to steal the show, but now it feels like many years ago!”

Hiccup did a little skip hop to be right in front of Toothless, and sang brightly to him.

“And I! I will be with you every step!”

The band shouted, “Hey! Hey!” While Hiccup leaned it and rubbed his nose against Toothless’.

“Tonight I found a friend in you, and I'll keep you close forever!”

He skip-hopped backwards and sang to the room.

“Come fly with me!”

The band echoed, “Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be! Come fly with me!”

He was on the move again, skipping over to the table and plopping into the spot next to Astrid. He leaned against the table, pretending to be casual, but he looked her dead in the eyes as he sang.

“We can fly all day long, show me the world, sing me a song,

Tell me what the future holds, you and me will paint it all in gold!”

Astrid beamed at him, her face hurting from the smile.

“And I! I will believe your every word!”

The audience got the prompt and stomped in time “Hey! Hey!” Hiccup leaned in and rubbed his nose against hers, just as he did with Toothless, making her burst into laughter.

“‘Cause I, I have a friend in you. We'll always stay together!”

He leapt to his feet, dancing in time with the beat and Toothless’ little prancing.

“Come fly with me!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be. Come fly with me!”

He played his heart out, barely containing his laughter as Toothless did this adorable little steppy-step right along with him. Then Hiccup stopped his dance, though the smile didn’t leave his face.

“And I…I will be with you every step.”

His notes were slow, and his voice was soft, like he was making a promise. He swept his gaze across the hall, singing to the village this time.

“Tonight I found some friends in you, and I keep you close forever!”

He beckoned with his head, and smiled widely as a few kids from the back ran up and started dancing with Toothless. Hiccup flipped the fiddle to his side and strummed it like a guitar while Hackjaw kept a steady beat.

“Come fly with me, into a fantasy!

Where you can be whoever you want to be!

Come fly with me!”

He flipped the fiddle back onto his chin to resume playing normally, but beckoned at the teens table with his head. This got the Twins and Snotlout up and dancing with the kids.

“Come fly with me!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Into a fantasy!”

“Ohoohoh Ohoohoh!”

“Where you can be whoever you want to be. Come fly with me!”

As he came to the end of the song, Snotlout grabbed him by the waist, lifting him off the floor and spinning him around. Hiccup didn’t miss a note though, and only laughed as he was rag dolled around.

The room broke into cheers when the song ended, and Hiccup gave an exaggerated bow. Toothless mimicked this behavior and bowed his head, making his little ear flaps flip around.

Astrid’s heart was full and ready to burst from her chest.

She loved him so much.

Seeing him so happy, having fun and dancing, it almost made her cry tears of joy. She smiled at him, watching as he cooed at Toothless. Then she turned back to her table mates. Fishlegs, Heather, and Dagur were all looking at her with thinly veiled giddy.

From behind them, she could see her parents, who were even more enthusiastic.

She rolled her eyes and covered her face with her hand.

“Alright,” Hiccup said with an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll give the band a break.” He plopped down on the floor, using Toothless as a backrest. In turn, Toothless curled up and rested his head in Hiccup’s lap.

People slowly started to calm down, curious about what was happening next. The children that had been dancing sat down around Toothless, leaning on him too.

That included the Twins, who draped themselves over him.

“This next song, I wrote that first Snoggletog we had with the dragons. That year, all of the dragons left a few days before, and we had no idea why. Toothless couldn’t fly on his own, so I made him a tail that he could use by himself. He flew off, to where I assumed the other dragons were.

“I missed him immediately, and started writing this that same day. You may remember that Snoggletog morning when the dragons returned with a boatload of babies.”

There were some fond ‘aww’s from the crowd.

“Well, Toothless wasn’t with those Dragons. It was a lonely few days waiting for answers, but when he finally came back, he brought my helmet I had lost at sea. He had spent all that time getting back what I had lost. He gave me a wonderful gift that year, so I gave him this song. It’s his very special song and he demands I sit on the floor like this when I play it.”

Toothless warbled in confirmation.

“So…here we go…” He said, without further adieu.

He held the fiddle up to his chin, but instead of using the bow, he plucked at the strings, playing a lullaby.

Apparently, Toothless knew exactly what song this was, as he let out a warm rumbling purr.

“It's almost night, I should be sleeping.

But the moon's so bright, as if it's playing with me.

Round and round, I walk in circles aimlessly.

Where could you be?”

The twins, without prompting, started snapping on the beat and rocking side to side.

“The purple skies were so inviting when we used to fly.

But the excitement slowly fades away.

Feels like there's nothing I wanna do.

Not without you.”

Hiccup leaned his head back, eyes closed and relaxed, as he sang in a falsetto.

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.”

Sven picked up his Nyckleharpa, but tapped on it instead, making soft percussion. Hacksaw hit his drum ever so gently with his hand. Frida plucked the same notes on her lute, letting Hiccup go back to his bow.

“And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you. And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you.”

The band crept closer, softly harmonizing as Hiccup played his song. Toothless looked around to them, smiling, as everyone was singing his special song.

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.”

Then Hiccup bowed a gentle waltz, one that might be played at a wedding. A warm, happy melody. Sven harmonized.

“And I will cry you a thousand tears the day you will return.

Tonight I swear, I'll stay right here until you will return.”

Slowly, the band faded out until it was just Hiccup plucking those soft notes.

“And every little cloud, and every single star, reminds me of just how much I miss you.”

Hiccup smiled at Toothless, and just as he took his fingers away from the strings, Toothless warbled a loud ‘wah wah wah!’ that Astrid swore sounded like he was trying to sing.

“Yeah bud! Every little cloud!”

“Wah wah wah!”

“And every single star.” He chuckled.

Most people were too busy cooing to applaud. Astrid included. She held her hands over her heart, feeling all those warm and fuzzy un-viking feelings in her chest.

She heard a loud sniff, and turned to see Dagur, Snotlout, and Fishlegs crying. Fishlegs just had tears, Snotlout was weeping openly, and Dagur was bawling uncontrollably.

“That was beautiful,” Dagur whimpered. “He has the most beautiful soul.”

Heather, who was only a little misty-eyed, looked at Astrid and rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

Astrid chuckled, wiping a tear from her eye before joining in the remainder of the applause.

“Alright, I’ve heard enough,” said Hamish, standing without the use of his cane. His face was serious, and solemn.

“Wh-what? Did I–did I do something wrong!?” Hiccup struggled to stand with the fiddle still in hand. “If you didn’t like those, I can play something traditional! I just thought—”

Hamish held up a hand to stop him. “Hiccup. You…are a damn fine fiddler.”

Hiccup relaxed slightly. “So then—”

“It's time for your final test.”

Hiccup stared, wide-eyed. “Really? You think I’m that good?”

“Fiddler on the Roof!” Tuffnut yelled.

“Is this not a good enough final test!?” Snotlout yelled a beat after.

Hamish moved his cloak aside. “It’s time for you and I to do battle. As master and apprentice.” From under his cloak, he withdrew his own wooden case, and his own fiddle.

Hiccup gulped.

Hamish smiled, good naturedly. He brandished the shiny black instrument. “I’ll hold you to that last song, but now, we play Shades.”

“Shades!?” Hiccup yelled. “Are you—are you sure?”

“You are ready, my boy. Hagar, will you join us on vocals?”

Hagar laughed. “You’re roping me into this too?” But he stood anyway.

“What’s Shades?” Astrid asked Fishlegs.

“Don’t look at me! I don’t know anything about this kind of music!”

It seemed that Hamish heard her question and answered, “Shades is a piece written by my mentor. It’s difficult, but the perfect piece to test my students with. The difficulty lies in performing it with two fiddles.”

Hiccup nodded in agreement. “But I’m willing to try.”

Hamish smiled at him. “That’s a good lad! You’ll take the high part.” He pulled a long note off his strings. Then he turned to the band and told them, “A Minor.”

Then he and Hiccup took a stance, staring at each other. A breath passed, then two.

In a blink, they started playing a frantic gallop in time. The notes started rising, climbing an invisible ladder through the air. Always harmonizing, never falling out of sync. Hackjaw was the only one that joined in, playing a syncopated beat on the drum. Then the fiddles both calmed down to a whisper, and Hagar sang.

“In a forest without any trees, where feelings and memories superimposed by an image of you are caught on the morning dew.”

A duel, trading notes back and forth, taking over each other’s parts.

“Swim in a lake at the first light of day, where children and swans go to play right in the wake of your perfect body and sing of unity.”

Right at the last line, they jumped it, keeping strides with each other. Like running a race, but they were matching each step for step. Hiccup kept his eyes locked with Hamish, watching his hands as he played.

“A Shiv’ring garden where willows grow tall, their shadows caught on a wall.

The sound of weeping so soft in the breeze, a bustle of falling leaves.”

Soft notes, punctuating each line, soft swells, not distracting, just accenting. Matching tone, volume, intensity.

Astrid was riveted. She didn’t know much about fiddling, much less any music, but performing like this without practicing together had to be very hard. Impossible even.

“A night has many shades. It can last for many days and hurt in many ways,

like the force of a rising tide when the moon floats by.”

The song seemed to come to an end. Slow, drawn out notes that seemed to gently set everyone down from the heights they had been climbing.

But then Hamish pulled a triplet, a quick back and forth of the bow. Hiccup returned it. Hamish did it back. Then Hiccup began his sprinting note, and Hamish was right there, meeting it in speed. They grew louder and louder, changing pitch, changing tempos, hitting notes at a dizzying speed of variation. Each one had to be perfect.

Hiccup’s eyes widened as a grin began to tug at his lips. This was the final sprint, this was it!

They played that final climb, hitting a high note and jumping off the ladder into silence.

They both stared at each other, panting, before breaking out into laughter.

“Did I actually do it!?” Hiccup laughed breathlessly.

“Aye lad! Every single note! You’ve been practicing, don’t lie!”

“Of course I have! Ever since I fumbled when I was a kid, it haunted me. I didn’t think I had it down yet though!”

“Oh, you’ve done an old viking proud, you know. I’m thinking of taking on more students now that I’m retired from chiefing. It’ll give me something good to do! I might call on you to show ‘em how to do it right.”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can do it like that again.”

“Sure you can! And next time, it’ll be even better.”

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, Hamish.”

For the third time that evening, Hiccup was picked up in a hug and lifted off the floor. “The boy has passed! I can teach him no more!”

The assembled cheered, not all comprehending what exactly had happened, but happy for Hiccup all the same.

Hamish set him back on his feet. “Alright lad, your old man said you got one more song for me. About a girl?”

Hiccup’s face went bright red and he put his free hand to his cheek. “Oh gods…he sure promised you that, huh?”

“Darn tootin’! I’ve enjoyed the rest! I’m sure this will be great!” Then he put an arm around him and spoke to him so softly no one else could hear. Hiccup responded just as quiet, before Hamish burst out laughing. He gave the boy a punch to the shoulder, and exclaimed, “go get her, boy-o~!”

Hiccup gulped, and straightened his clothes nervously.

“We’re doing the last one now, lad?” Gobber asked, grinning.

“Uh oh! Is this the one?!” Stoick barked, standing from his seat.

“Sit down, dad!” Hiccup shouted back, face as red as can be. “Gods preserve me.” He looked back at the band, making sure they were all ready to go. Then he spoke up to the room. “This is my last song for you this evening. I hope you all have enjoyed this little…uh, concert? It was certainly not expected. But your warm reception is appreciated!”

“Whooo! Go Hiccup!” Tuffnut screamed.

He released an awkward laugh. “Yeah, thanks…um.” He brought the fiddle up to rest on his shoulder. “This song…I wrote a really long time ago. Before I met Toothless even. It’s uh…it’s still true though…” he trailed off. He nodded to the band, getting a beat.

Instead of instruments, they all clapped in time, before Hiccup started singing, his face still a bright red.

“This feeling lasted,

I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me,

But I don't mind!”

Astrid’s jaw dropped, her own face going as red as his. Hiccup began playing a jaunty tune, making Toothless pop to his feet and start dancing again.

“Never mind what the others say, deep inside I'm quite okay.

I may have messed up once or twice, but I really need you!”

He dared to look at her.

“And it's not like I'm the only guy. Oh, I know how you make them cry.

So let's start by being friends and let this friendship never end.

I knew you years ago. What I want, I don't know. But let’s just say it's love!”

Playing the fiddle and having Toothless prancing around gave Hiccup a lot of confidence. That, or just getting those first words out was the hardest part. But now, he was smiling, and hop-skipping around while he played.

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady!

No need to hesitate 'cause you'll be fine!”

Hiccup could, on occasion, be extremely corny. Even now, when he was just playing, he had this faux bashful smile on his face, like he had no clue what he was doing to her. The blush seemed genuine enough.

“So tell me what I want to hear,

No wait, let's just leave it there.

You know I'm not good for you!

Gods, I don't know what to do!”

Stoick had said he sang this song with passion, and he was right! Hiccup belted out the words, like he was making a grand proclamation.

“I liked you from the start!

You melt my icy heart!

And now it's burning hot!”

In retrospect, she always knew he was a performer. He’d always had a streak of the dramatic. Like when he tried to tame the Nightmare during his final exam. Or whenever he revealed one of his inventions. If he was going to do something, it was going to be a grand spectacle. Why was this any different?

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady

No need to hesitate 'Cause you'll be fine!”

He got down on one knee in front of her, looking up at her with big glistening eyes that would put Toothless to shame.

“Don't go away, you're what's left of me!

I once believed you would save my soul.

But if you saw me now crying secretly,

Would you hold my hand and never let it go?”

He flipped the fiddle to his side and strummed it like a guitar. His voice became softer, tender. Now just singing to her, and no one else.

“This feeling lasted, I love you, Astrid!

You're so much stronger than me, but I don't mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady!

No need to hesitate 'Cause you'll be fine!”

He popped back up onto his feet, and threw his head back, making his grand declaration into the room.

“Do you hear me, Astrid?

I still love you, Astrid!

I’m getting stronger now, hope you don’t mind!

Don't say maybe, just be my lady

Your parents are bugging me, knowing you'll be fine!”

I love you, Astrid! How long had she waited to hear those words from him? Too long, it seemed. But this seemed worth the wait.

All there was left to do was wait for him to move that damn fiddle out of the way.

He finished his song, flushed but smiling as he gave her a little shrug.

Astrid bolted from her seat, flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him hotly on the lips. In a way she had been wanting to for years, but hadn’t quite had the nerve to do like when she was younger.

She was still able to hear him squeak despite the cacophony that filled the large room.

Shouts of “finally!” And “you owe me ten gold” were totally drowned out in the absolute satisfaction she felt, finally kissing Hiccup.

Someone must have taken his fiddle for him as she felt his arms wrap around her and pull her tight.

Finally, she pulled away, a little winded. His face was priceless. He was dazed, but had this awed and lovestruck smile on his lips.

She played with his hair, then declared, “I don’t know much about music, but…

“Ooh Hiccup, I love you Hiccup!

You’re such a dork, you see?

But I don’t mind!

Won’t say maybe, I’ll be your lady!

I know you’ll take care of me, and I’ll be fine!”

He smiled broadly and pulled her in for another kiss.

“What a way to end a concert!” Hamish yelled from his table. “Way to go, lad!”

“I owe you a thank you, Hamish. I never would have done this if you hadn’t requested it.”

“Anytime, my boy! Always happy to help!”

—

The Shivering Shores stayed for three days, and in that time, Hiccup spent some time with Hamish, teaching him his songs. He played with the band during dinners, and over all, didn’t seem as secretive as he had been the last week. Everyone knew now, and he accepted that he was good. He was no longer hesitant, but actually allowed himself to show off.

When it was time to return to the Edge, Astrid spied the wooden case among his baggage.

“You’re taking it with you?”

“Might as well, might help me think while I’m planning on how to deal with the hunters. It’s helped in the past.”

“Are you going to give us something to listen to on the way back?” Asked Snotlout. “Gods forbid I have to listen to the Twins bicker for another 8 hours!”

“You want me to fly and play at the same time?”

“Oh like Toothless isn’t doing most of the work!”

Hiccup couldn’t argue with that.

Once they were up in the air and on their way, Hiccup made a great show out of taking out the fiddle and tuning it. Agonizing over each note.

“We know it’s tuned! You’ve been playing it all weekend! It’s tuned!” Snotlout shouted.

Hiccup snorted. “Alright alright, let’s see…” He drew a long note out and sang.

“Ohhhh I got my ax and I got my mace and I love my wife with the ugly face, I’m a viking through and through!!”

And he was promptly relieved of entertainment duties.

—-

A week later, things were back to normal. The twins had done a number on the Edge, and repairs and restocks were needed.

Hiccup and Astrid were up to their necks with duties, busy with work and barely could find a moment to relax, let alone have some time together.

It was late one night when Astrid laid in bed, exhausted but unable to sleep. She kept going over her lists in her mind, making sure she hadn’t missed anything.

The silence of the night was interrupted by the soft trill of a fiddle. No particular song, just notes floating around. Fast, slow, but mostly quiet.

Hiccup was also awake and thinking.

She got up and wandered over to his hut. His door was open, and he paced back and forth, with the fiddle on his shoulder. He was obviously talking to himself, but it was quiet and muffled by the music.

“Babe?” She asked, just loud enough.

He jolted. “Astrid! Oh! I didn’t wake you, did I? I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have—“ he went to put the instrument away, but Astrid reached out and stopped him. “No, you didn’t wake me. I was already up. And it was so quiet I probably wouldn't have heard it if I was asleep.”

He sighed in relief.

“Then what’s up?”

“Well, I could tell you were awake, and…I wanted to see you.”

His face colored. ��Yeah?”

“Hmmhmm. You don’t have to stop what you’re doing. I kinda like the idea of my own private performance.”

He shyly smiled, then put the fiddle back on his shoulder.

—

Fishlegs had night patrol. He opted to take Meatlug out for a relaxing flight around the island. He saw Astrid sneak over to Hiccup’s hut, but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t his business. He heard Hiccup playing the fiddle, a lovely little melody.

Then he heard a sharp, off key note, followed by silence.

He may be on patrol, but he had a feeling they didn’t want him to investigate.

------

One time in Highschool, we had a talent show. Know that I went to a very tiny private school, and everyone knew everyone (20 people in my grade). There was this guy in my class, Kevin, who was pretty stoic and quiet. For the talent show, he rode a unicycle while juggling and telling jokes. No one knew he could do that. Even the kids that knew him from Kindergarten.

Songs: Seasoned Oak - King Arthur and the Legend of the Sword

Fairytale - Alexander Rybak

Into a Fantasy - Alexander Rybak

Return (For Toothless) - Alexander Rybak

Shades- Árstídir

OAH- Alexander Rybak (heavily rewritten, and I actually prefer the strings of the Russian version ‘Strela Amura’ better.)

#fanfiction #httyd #how to train your dragon #hiccup #hiccstrid #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #toothless #fiddler hiccup

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samsalami66 · 3 days ago

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Cinnamon Warmth

I simply HAD to write a little continuation of @unpredictable-probabilities' wonderful fic Where It Goes, so definitely read her fic before you read this one or else this will make little sense!

Read either here or on AO3!

To be completely honest, Morpheus was a bit nervous now that he was standing in front of the Gadling family home, his one hand resting in the crook of Hob’s elbow. Agreeing to Christmas brunch with Hob's parents had been easy as they had laid in the bed of the hotel, relishing each other's presence and warmth in their own little bubble, away from the rest of the world. But standing in front of the other man’s childhood home as his unexpected plus one for Christmas was a bit more spontaneous than his usual endeavours, and so the nervousness perhaps should have been expected.

Hob on the other hand seemed totally unbothered that he would be introducing a man he met the day before to his parents, even with what had happened to him last Christmas. Morpheus strived for such a level of self-assuredness and optimism. If he were lucky his family would only disown him for such a decision. Or behead him, if he were less lucky.

“Promise they don't bite,” Hob murmured to his right, and Morpheus snorted in response.

“I wouldn't be too sure of that. Their son certainly didn't seem disinclined if prompted, and he must have learned it from someone.”

“That would be Marleen's influence right there, I tend to keep my teeth to myself.” A male voice suddenly answered from the doorway, amused to no end. Morpheus whipped around with a deep blush rising on his face to the man now standing in the doorway to Hob's home. Leave it to him to make a bloody fool of himself first thing.

Mr. Gadling was a very soft man, with smile lines around his mouth and crows’ feet around his eyes, which sparkled with the same sort of mischief Morpheus had already witnessed on Hob's face. There was also the same sort of resolve to make him feel safe and welcomed, and Morpheus deflated a bit at that slowly familiar look on his face.

“Apologies, Mr. Gadling,” he said quickly and held out a hand to Hob's father, determined to overcome his social faux-pas as quickly as possible. “I'm Morpheus, Hob's… friend. At least for now.”

The man barked a laugh at that and ignored his hand in favour of giving Morpheus a full-bodied hug. “I do like a man that knows what he wants! Call me Frank. No need to be all formal with family, eh?”

Morpheus was released with a clap to his back and the most stunned expression he had ever worn in his life. He was given a moment to collect himself as Mr. Gadling moved to hug his son with the same enthusiasm he had bestowed upon Morpheus. The comparison made something ache in his chest, but in the best way he could imagine.

“Now come in, boys, it's freezing! Marleen will want to meet the new face, so prepare for all the usual motherly fussing.” Mr. Gadling winked at him then, and Morpheus had exactly zero seconds to prepare before he was being pulled into the next pair of arms at the same time as Hob.

“Oh, Robert, you didn't say you would be bringing such a gorgeous young man along!” The woman now embracing them both had a smile that rivalled the sun and brown eyes the same shade as Hob's. She smelled faintly of garlic and bacon and herbs, which caused Morpheus' stomach to growl with interest. The croissant perhaps hadn't quite been enough to fully ease his hunger this morning. “And he's hungry too! Well thank goodness I just finished preparations for brunch.”

Mrs. Gadling shooed them into the dining room before Morpheus even had the chance to introduce himself and then headed off back towards the kitchen to continue her preparations. All that Morpheus could now do was blink, but somehow it didn't help with his orientation. Beside him Hob chuckled, then slowly led them to the table so they could sit down.

“Perhaps I should have mentioned that they're very handsy.”

Honestly, Morpheus wasn't sure if that would have helped. Nothing could have prepared him for this welcome.

“It's alright…” Morpheus frowned as he realised that it really was alright. Usually he hated physical contact. But somehow, this wasn't too bad. Some part of him was even hoping to experience it again. The Gadlings were… warm. Their touch felt soothing instead of irritating. Perhaps it was a quality the whole family shared. “They're nice.”

“They try their best,” Hob agreed and Morpheus nodded in response.

Pans and pots clattered in the kitchen and some colourful but delighted curses accompanied most sounds. Morpheus was itching with the need to make himself useful.

“Shouldn't we help your mother with preparations?”

“Not if we want to keep our heads, no. She takes great pride in preparing Christmas brunch by herself, we get to do the washing up later, if we're lucky.” Hob’s voice was fond as he talked about his mother, about this joke that must be reoccurring every year.

“Marleen is a very independent woman,” Mr. Gadling agreed with a smile from the doorway, and Morpheus got the feeling that popping in on conversations like this was simply his thing.

“She certainly seems like one, Sir.” Morpheus cringed a bit at his politeness, but no offer of first names could erase a lifetime of addressing even one's own father as ‘sir’.

“Polite boy you are, hm?” He chuckled and sat down opposite them, then rested his chin on one of his hands to look at them. “How did you guys meet?”

Morpheus opened his mouth to answer, when Mrs. Gadling suddenly flicked her husband against the temple with a disapproving click of her tongue.

“At least wait until we're eating before you grill them. Here, be quiet.” She instructed and shoved a steaming pastry into Mr. Gadling's mouth, who only shrugged and munched away happily on the very fluffy looking cinnamon roll.

Mrs. Gadling then places the rest of the tray and several other types of pastries on the table, quickly followed by a spread of hearty cheeses and meats and bread, as well as a pot of tea. It was simple, but the heat radiating off the pastries and breads spoke of a very early morning spent in the kitchen and hours upon hours of preparation work. Morpheus felt slightly unworthy of being on the receiving end of such a meal, made with care and love and at the sacrifice of time and energy.

His own parents did not cook or bake or put any effort of their own whatsoever into Christmas dinners. They hired private chefs that made incredible eight course meals which only tasted of the craft but never of love.

When Morpheus bit into a warm cinnamon roll dripping with sugary goodness and topped with an ungodly amount of frosting he tasted nothing but the love Mrs. Gadling held for her family. And possibly enough sugar to give him cavities overnight. He dove in again immediately after the first bite.

Mrs. Gadling looked pleased at his enthusiasm as she cut off a piece of fresh bread for herself and buttered it generously.

“So, now, how did you meet your lovely new friend, Robert?”

Hob chuckled at the curiosity in her voice and quickly swallowed his mouthful of cream cheese puff pastry.

“Fell asleep on him on the train yesterday.” Two pairs of eyebrows were raised at that and Morpheus felt a blush dust his cheeks again. “And Morpheus very gallantly saved me from face-planting when the train suddenly broke down.”

Mr. Gadling made a face that said Yep, sounds like my son and Morpheus wasn't sure what it said about Hob that such a situation apparently was very like him.

“And you just decided to tag along for Christmas brunch, darling?”

It took Morpheus an embarrassingly long time to realise she was addressing him with ‘darling’. Considering she didn't ask his name, he probably shouldn't be so surprised.

“Er, yeah. Yes, sorry. I didn't have any other plans for the day and as Hob offered… I hoped his family would be as lovely to spend time with as he himself is. And I haven't been disappointed.”

“Oh what a charmer!” Mrs. Gadling laughed in delight and nodded her approval. “I'm glad we didn't scare you away yet, sweetheart. But I gather if you survived a full day with Robert, you'll survive a meal with us.”

“It is no hardship,” answered Morpheus quickly, then turned slightly more red than he had already been. “Neither spending time with Hob nor with you. I feel very welcomed, although you barely know me.”

Both Mr. and Mrs. Gadling smiled indulgently at his words and Hob, too, seemed touched by them.

“You're going to be good for our boy.” Mr. Gadling stated then and Mrs. Gadling hummed her agreement. “So, what do you do, son? Music or art?”

#dreamling #the sandman #hob gadling #dream of the endless #salamiwrites #christmas fluff #meeting the parents

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simpingforheros · 3 days ago

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Lover Man

Pairing: Roy Harper X Single Mom! Female! Reader

Summary: Roy Harper gave up on love after his relationship with Cheshire never went anywhere other than creating his bundle of joy that was Lian Harper. That was until she came knocking on his door.

Warnings: 18+, Minors Do Not Interact, Female Reader/Female Pronouns/ Female Anatomy, Fluff eventually turning into Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Close Proximity, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Implied Abuse, Heavy Make-Out Session, Dry Humping, Implied Breeding Kink, Roy Harper being our Gentle King ((only this time)).

A/N: Soooo I had another Roy fanfic written completely in the drafts…and I hated it 💀. So I rewrote it and here it is. It’s a wee bit longer than my normal fanfics and I wanted to add more fluff and more descriptive detail instead of just smut. Please leave me some comments if you like this or if you don’t lol. Thank you.

A/N: I got my own ginger so it makes me wanna write about my second favorite ginger since I hardly see writing for him outside of him being a throuple with Jason. Roy Harper is just as hot as Jason because man’s literally got himself out of a bad place just for his daughter 😭🥹. Our responsibility king. Also Lian is aged up to 7 years old in this.

Dividers >>>> @cafekitsune

Roy Harper was a hardworking man. He slaves over his small mercenary missions with the occasional events of saving the city in the mix of raising a 4 foot ball of energy all on his own. He felt exhausted most the time, but that exhaustion keeps him out of trouble. It also gets him out of any venture for a personal life.

Sure, Roy had the Outlaws who would swing by after missions just to hangout and drink, and the Titans make a rare appearance to visit their favorite niece. Even Ollie and Dinah would occasionally come by to visit. But, after Jade came and left him high and dry, his heart was hollow…

Lian was his whole world and stars. He never thought he could love someone as much as he loved his little girl. He dragged himself out of his drug addiction just so he can take care of her, and she should be enough to make the backbreaking labor enough.

However, he notices how the doodled Mother’s Day cards that used to litter the fridge for Jade began to dwindle as her eyes began to look longingly at the other parents who had two parents and a pair or two of siblings. Lian says she’s happy to live with her Dad, who was her bestest friend in the world, but the occasional crayon drawings say otherwise.

The stick figures of Lian and Roy with a faceless woman and another stick figure child making it very clear that Lian wanted a mother figure, or at least a sibling.

Maybe one day Roy can give it to her…but right now he was too tired.

“What do you mean you forgot??” Roy yells into the phone as he speed walks back to his apartment complex.

He should have known better than to ask Garfield to wait at his apartment for Lian to come home and babysit for a couple of hours while he went grocery shopping. This week has been hell on him. He’s been dealing with some of Black Mask’s crew trying to expand to Star City and when he would try to get some sleep, the noise of some new neighbors moving in woke him up constantly. This was really his only chance to go do anything and Beast Boy forgot to come.

“I asked you to do one thing, Gar! Be here and watch Lian until I got back. How can forget to watch a 7 year old girl?” Roy seethes as he walks into the main lobby and bolting up the stairs.

His heart was pounding with all the possible scenarios. He knows he’s overreacting, that she was just probably sitting by the locked door either entertaining herself or crying. But he also couldn’t help but be paranoid that she strayed off to go find him or someone snatched her up.

His worst fear coming to reality as he walks onto his floor and sees no one. He quickly gets to his door and jiggles the nob, feeling the secured lock.

Just as Roy was about to scream at Garfield again to relieve the unrelenting anxiety, the sound of a door opening behind him catches his attention as a familiar ring fills the static.

“Daddy!” Lian yells as Roy turns around, relief filling his body as he kneels down to greet the girl.

“Oh fuck, you scared me.” He says, as he sighs in relief. His strong arms holding the small girl tight to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” the girl mumbles with sympathy pooling in her dark eyes. “I was walking Wren and she wanted me to see her new room.”

‘Wren? Who’s Wren?’ Roy thought as he quirks his eyebrow just as movement catches his eyes again to the door.

Another little girl was standing in the door way to the apartment. She looked the same age as Lian with colorful ribbons in her hair and the matching Star Academy uniform on as Lian.

‘Another Star Academy student? There isn’t any other student living here…’

Then the realization that this was one of the new neighbors hits him as a taller figure appears behind Wren. Her voice throwing Roy in a trance as she scolds the girl.

“Wren, I told you to not stare. Especially at strangers.” Her voice gently but protective as she kept her eyes on Roy. Her hand already on her daughter’s shoulder as her daughter apologizes.

“I’m sorry, Mama. I wanted to see Lian’s Dad and see if I can come over…”

The woman was the same age as him from what he can tell. Healthy, glowing skin despite the dark bags under her eyes. Her hair glowed like a halo in the fluorescent light of the hallway despite the messy frizz of what he thought used to be a protective hairstyle that her work day destroyed. Her boxy scrubs doing noting to hide her figure as the familiar logo of Star City General Hospital shined brightly.

“Dad.” Lian’s inpatient voice cuts through his daze as he looks to his daughter.

“Huh?” He says as his daughter giggles.

“I said, can I show Wren my room? I wanna show her all my Bluey toys.” She says excitedly.

His eyes briefly flickering over to the other excited little girl before stating gently, “I have no problem with it, but did you ask Wren’s mom if she can.”

“Yea! Miss (L/N) said it was alright.” She says happily.

‘Miss? I guess she’s not married…’ he thought as he handed Lian his keys with a joking quip, “Don’r throw a party while I’m over here talking to Miss (L/N).”

The girls giggle before running over to Roy’s apartment and entering. Roy stands up to his full height as he gives the mother a smile. She returns it with her own as she says,

“Normally Wren is pretty shy, so I was happy to see she made friends with a good kid.” She says as she pushes some stray hair out of her face before offering him her hand. “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

“Roy. Roy Harper.” He introduces himself as he shakes her hand. He couldn’t help but smile brighter as they pulled their hands away, proud that his daughter helped out a new kid.

“Lian doesn’t have much of a shy side to her. I blame it on her mom’s genetics.” He jokes with a soft chuckle.

“You and your wife must be proud.” She says softly as she props her hip against the doorframe.

“Oh no, I’m not married.” He corrects her as he nervously stuffs his hands in his pocket as he felt a pang of gloom over his heart. “It’s just me and Lian.”

Her eyes dropped as she crosses her arms over her chest as she mumbles, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…”

“No, youre alright.” He assures her with a shrug. “Honestly, I should be apologizing for your first impression of me being my kid locked out of my apartment.”

She giggles as she waves him off as she says, “Lian told me that her normal babysitters weren’t in town and that ‘Uncle Gar’ was suppose to be here.”

“Yeaaa.” He groans as he defends himself. “I promise that i’m normally on top of the babysitting situation since I normally work nights.”

She nods as she says, “I understand. I have to find my own babysitter now that I moved across the country. I work days at the hospital.”

The idea seeming to strike them at the same time as both their little girls scream in delight as they play in the apartment over.

A compromise between two single parents.

The deal was easy and benefited both of them. Since she had to work 12 hour shifts on a 3 on, two off basis, (Y/N) would drop the girls off at school on her way to work, and Roy adjusted his “work” time so he can be home when they come home from school and babysit until Wren’s mom gets off from work.

When (Y/N) was off and Roy is working, She will keep both girls at her apartment and gets them ready for school in the mornings before they tag off.

During the rare occurrence that Roy had to go away on a “business trip”, the girls would just be with (Y/N) full time with Roy’s promise that it will only be a week and he will watch them when the weekend comes so she can rest.

This has been the routine for three months, and Roy enjoyed it more than he should. It felt great knowing that Lian was in capable, non vigilante hands when he was away and she had a female role model to who doesn’t fight crime in spandex.

Roy also adored Wren. She took a minute to break out of her shell, but she reminded him a lot of Jason. A quiet type who surprised him with her temper and mischief. He can see why (Y/N) is the kind of parent she is and how she easily keeps Wren and Lian in line.

Over the weeks, Wren and Lian became the dynamic duo of Star Academy. They did everything together and would cry if they couldn’t. The two even begged their respective parents for matching Bluey backpacks and sparkly shoes so they can match all the time. They even developed a cute habit of leaving colored drawings under the apartment doors for the other to find. The friendship was very heart warming and helped form the bond between their parents.

The two had a lot in common too. More than they expected.

“Wanna beer?” Roy offered as he stood up from the couch.

“No thank you.” She answers as she focuses on wrapping the present infront of her.

Tomorrow was Wren’s birthday, and while the girls are having a sleep over in Lian’s room, Roy and (Y/N) prepped for her birthday party.

“You sure, doll?” He says as he grabs a couple beers. He sits beside her and holds his open bottle near her as he jokes. “You gonna let me drink alone, and make me look depressed?”

Her eyes darken as she scoots away from him. The air turning cold as she snaps on him. “I said No, Roy.”

Roy immediately freezes before frowning in concern. He puts the beer on the coffee table as he whispers to her. “Hey, I’m sorry…”

Her eyes relax as her shoulders slump. She sighs softly as she mumbles. “No, I’m sorry…”

She reaches into her pocket a pulls out a familiar looking token and hands it to him. A 5 year sobriety coin. His brows shoot up as he looks at her in shock.

She giggles somberly as she says, “it’s not mine. It’s my Dad’s.”

She pulls her knees to her chest as she looks to the wall around the muted tv. Pictures lining the wall of Lian and Roy with some of just them or with friends. She smiles softly as she recounts.

“My dad was a bad alcoholic, but a good dad. He would take me with him everywhere he could and it would be like everyday was a good day. I was too young to realize he drank too much or he yelled at my mom a little too harshly.” She says as she picks at the material of her socked covered feet.

“It wasn’t until I got pregnant with Wren that he realized he had to sober up. He managed to stay clean for almost 6 years until a drunk driver hit him.” She chuckles sadly as she sees the irony in her dad’s death. “He even help me leave my ex who was also a bad drinker. I guess seeing my dad doing it my whole life, I thought it was normal…”

Her arms wrapping around herself before finally looking back at Roy. Her eyes meeting his green ones, her gaze watery as she wipes the tears away.

“I’m sorry, that was too much to put on you..” she said as her voice wavers a bit. “You can drink though I don’t-“

Roy gets up and takes his beers to the kitchen. Confused by his abruptness, she follows him, only to see him dumping out his open beer and starting to dump out the other one. She looks at him confused as he finishes dumping the liquid out before he pulls out his wallet and pulls out a coin.

He hands both coins to her as she reads the one he pulled out of his wallet. 7 years sobriety.

“You were…?” She mumbles is disbelief before he answers.

“Yep, former heroine addict…” he says as he leans back against the counter. His arms flexing as he crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes shining with seriousness as he says,

“I understand why your dad got help. I did the same thing when I found out about Lian, and I don’t ever wanna do anything that can jeopardize giving her a better life than I had…”

An emotion crosses his face that makes her nervous but excited as he admits.

“And I don’t want to do anything that would drive you out of mine.”

“Please, (Y/N)!” Lian begs as Wren stands behind her with her puppy dog eyes shining behind her.

Those were the famous last words that were said when Lian and Wren convinced her to allow them to go to a slumber party while Roy was out of town. (Y/N) didn’t see the harm since it was Friday night and the girls had been good. Besides, Roy was supposed to be home late tonight so he can enjoy his Saturday morning resting.

It was a good idea. Or at least that’s what she thought before she got mugged on her way home from dropping off the girls.

The woman didn’t see it coming when she was snatched off the street and pinned to an alley wall as a disgust voice coos at her.

“Easy, Babygirl.” The masked man purrs as his dirty finger nails digged into her arms. “Just give me your purse and we can both walk away happy.”

“Fuck off!” She says as she tries to yank away from him .

“Now don’t be such a-!” His growl interrupted as the swoop of air shoots between them. She looks to where it lands and sees a red arrow buried into the wall behind them. The mugger was the first to look back to where it came from before gasping,

“Arsenal? What’s he doing here?” He curses as he pulls (Y/N) in front of him, making the struggling woman a human shield. “I’m armed, and I’m not afraid to hurt the bitch!” He says as he pulls out a knife and holds it to her neck.

(Y/N) only heard about the vigilante through the news. Apparently he used to be Green Arrow’s sidekick before he went solo for some reason and he was a rough guy. He works with the Red Hood who was known for killing criminals so she understood why the man was scared as a figure dropped down from a rooftop with his bow ready to shoot.

Her panic setting in as the bite of the blade was pressed hard to her neck, the anxious blade knicking her. Her panic eyes were set on the archer as she watches him slowly approach.

He looked…familiar. His height and built was impressive despite him being more on the leaner side and his features not obstructed by his sunglasses and hat reminded her of Roy…

“Let the girl go.” Arsenal warns the burglar. His voice was deep, but it didn’t sound natural. It was like he was trying to make his voice sound different. “You’re just pissing me off more and I’m gonna end up breaking your eye socket in.”

The criminal trembles before deciding the best escape plan. He grabs ahold of her purse before throwing her in Arsenal’s direction. Unprepared to the violent shove, (Y/N) falls to the ground before the vigilante can catch her. Her yelp filling space as the hero kneels down beside her to make sure she wasn’t stabbed.

“Hey, you alright?” He says as he scans her body for any serious injury.

She pushes herself up, cringes as her wrist throbs. His large gloved hands on her back and shoulder as he helps her stand when she notices his exposed arm. A familiar faded green tattoo visible on his bicep as the pieces fall together.

“Roy?…” She asks as she looks up Arsenal. Despite his eyes being covered, she can tell he was looking at her in a panic that she figured him out.

“Yea…” He confirms before looking behind her as he realizes the motherfucker stole her purse. He pulls his aviators down to the bridge of his nose, his eyes shining in concern as he mumbles to her.

“Go home. I’ll meet you there so we can talk about it.”

The look in his eyes and the pounding adrenaline makes her fear melt away as she nods her head.

“Okay.”

The throbbing pain in her wrist didn’t stop when she finally made it back to her apartment building, acting as her anchor as the revelation that Roy’s secret night job was him being a Robin Hood copycat.

Thinking back on it, she should have figured he wasn’t a normal guy. Constant bruises, noticeable limps, and stolen ibuprofen were a routine in their life.

The thought made her stop for a second in the stair way.

Their life. The one they shared for months basically together. At first it was just two single parents helping each other out while their daughters bonded. Then her and Roy began to get close, close enough to where they were constant in each other’s apartments as the other child was.

Now he saved her life…maybe he already did that the first day in the city and she babysat a kid she didn’t know…

As she reaches the arch way between the two apartments, her hands searches her pockets for her keys when disappointment answers her.

The keys were in her purse.

With a sigh, she decides to sit on the ground besides Roy’s door as she waits. (Y/N) curls herself into a ball with her knees to her chest as she felt the familiar feeling of exhaustion nipping her eyelashes.

(Y/N) was a hard working woman. When she wasn’t working herself like a dog in the Emergency Room, she was handling a 4 foot ball of attitude. She didn’t have time for any ventures outside of that. She loves Wren with all her heart, but that doesn’t help the hollow part of her heart from throbbing…maybe someday she can give Wren a father who’s worth something. But right now, she was too damn tired.

The door opens behind her as she jumps awake. The woman didn’t even realize she almost fell asleep, but a warm hand opens in front of her as she looks up.

Roy was standing in front of her now. A grey zip up was pulled over his shoulders to cover his costume as her purse hanged on his arm. His soft smile made her stomach flutter as he breaks the silence.

“I guess I got some explaining to do…”

She doesn’t respond right away. Instead she gives him her hand and stands up with his help. Her injured wrist cradled to her chest as they enter the apartment. The movement still felt natural despite the circumstances. Roy didn’t even have to ask about her arm to know she needed first aid on her wrist.

He tended to her sprained wrist as he tells her his life story. She already knew about the general events of his childhood and his life with Oliver Queen, but didn’t know he was a sidekick turned mercenary. The whole story made her head spin as she thought about the man tending to her as a boy wearing yellow and red spandex and managing to attract a female assassin who was Lian’s actual mother…

“So…” Roy says as he expects some sort of reaction out of her.

“So… You are a vigilante…Ollie and Dinah are too.” She recounts as she rubs her bandaged wrists. “And your ex is an assassin…”

(Y/N) sighs before looking at the nervous ginger fidgeting in his seat. His nerves were haywire.

‘What if she leaves?’

‘What if she doesn’t want anything to do with me or Lian anymore?”

‘Is she gonna keep Wren from Lian and Me?’

“Okay”

The phrase makes Roy’s neck snap was he blinks wildly at her. His heart pounding as he scans her completely calm face with a soft smile on her face as she giggles at his baffled expression.

“Okay? That’s all you gotta say?”

“I mean sure I’m not a fan of the whole putting yourself in danger shtick, but if that’s the only downside to you, then I’m okay with it.” She says calmly before giving him a serious glare. “Just as long as the girls are never endangered.”

Roy couldn’t help but fall out of his chair and on his knees infront of her as he laughs. His hands pulling her into his lap as he enjoys the chill of relief as his body yearns for the reassurance of her touch. It wasn’t until he cupped her face that he realized just how intimate their position was.

Definitely not something friends should be doing….

But are they just friends?

“Roy…” She mumbles. Her eyes speaking to his soul as the exhaustion and months of connecting and yearning reach the apex. Or maybe it was the reflection of his own feelings bubbling up as he moves her hair away from her face.

“I promise I’ll never let anything happen to you or our girls…I can’t afford to lose them…or us.”

The first move wasn’t clear. The blur of teeth and tongue distracting him as their hands held the pair close. His hands adjusting her to straddle his lap as hers ran through his hair and over his strong shoulders. His mouth trailing down her jawline and caresses her throat as her hips began to grind into his.

“Aw, poor thing…” Roy coos as his hips rolled to meet hers. His eyes shining with adoration as he marks her smooth skin. “How long has it been since anyone took care of you?”

She rolls her eyes at his teasing before pulling his head back by his hair. “When was the last time you got took care of, Red?”

He glares playfully with a smirk as he says, “Don’t call me Red.”

She giggles as she presses a soft kiss to his cheek before trailing along his jawline. Her breath burning his soul as she whispers, “Then how about…baby?”

He rips her back away by her nape before crashing his lips onto hers. The desperation dewing the walls around them as their soft moans and movement of clothes made their company.

His hands hungry as he finally pulls away from her long enough to push off her sweatshirt. A groan of appreciation fills the space as he admires her body. Every visible scar, freckle, mole, stretch mark, and roll made him want to explore every story that lead her to his arms. But that’s for another time.

His mouth watered as he looks back up at her.

“So pretty, Ma…”

His prayer is followed by his mouth devouring her skin as he kisses her collarbone. Her feathery moans filling the space while his hands caresses her exposed torso. He trails down to the valley of her breasts before pushing the offending bra up so they spill out. Roy couldn’t resist kissing around her sensitive skin, teasing her as her hands tangle in the mess of ginger on his head.

“Baby please…” she whines as her hips roll impulsively on his.

Her underwear was impossibly uncomfortable. Her body burning like iron as her intimate parts tried to cool down. The friction of her jean covered core against the rough tackle gear of his suit did not help as his hand began to grope her other breast.

His chuckle vibrates against the globe of fat as his fingers pinch the stiffening nub.

“Can’t wait to get me in bed? My, you certainly are a romantic.”

Before she can shoot back at him, he withdraws completely from her chest and his hands roughly cup her thighs. In a swift motion, Roy picks her up as he stands up from the floor. The pair share a soft laugh as her brief shock and his amusement leads them to his bedroom.

Once he places her on the bed, (Y/N) sheds off her sweatshirt and bra as Roy whistles in appreciation.

“I love when you strip for me.” He jokes as lust clouded his vision. “Can you do that again but slower?”

She glares at him as she leans back onto her hands as she tilts her head. Mischief fills her eyes as she examines him up and down with her lip between her teeth.

“Then how about you put a show on for me since you want one?” She teases.

His smirk widens as he decides to follow her suggestion. Roy rolls his shoulders back before reaching to slowly unzip the jacket covering his suit. Making a show of pulling it off his arms before twirling it over his head and tossing it.

Laughing follows his movements as he slowly strips off his gear as her hungry and amused eyes followed every rolling muscle exposed to her.

“Damn…” She whispers as a nearly nude Roy begins to crawl on the bed towards her. His prominent bones straining against his boxers as she continues. “And I wondered why you didn’t have a girlfriend…”

He laughs as he cages her in his arms. His ginger hair acting as a curtain over his forehead as he shrugs above her. “Maybe I was waiting on the right one.”

Their lips meet again as their hands began to map out each other. Soon all the rest of the clothes joined the floor.

His erection bobbing between them as his eyes remains trained on hers. His fingers trailing down to her exposed sex, groaning as he runs a finger between her folds.

“Already wet? And without foreplay?” He asks as faux sympathy plays on his face. “My darling clearly neglected that she gets wet from a few kisses…”

“I’m not neglected…” She protests before she whimpers as the bite from his finger entering her unused cunt hits her.

“I wasn’t talking body you directly, baby.” He corrects as his finger thrusts softly along her fleshy walls. The lewd sounds of her moans mixed with her wet sex made him melt as she begs,

“Fuck…quit teasing already, you bastard…”

He decides to oblige by adding another finger to speed up his pace. The thumb on the other hand joining the fun as it rubbed patterns into her puffy clit.

“I got get you all nice and ready..” Roy mumbles as he leans down to press soft kisses on her stomach up to her breasts. The mixture of gentle pecks mixed with the harsh stimulation below driving his lover insane as her hips arched to meet his hands.

“You deserve all that I can give for being such a good mom .” He praises her as he feels her walls clench around his knuckles when he finds the spongy mass he was searching for.

He contradicts himself by abusing that with archer like precision as the coil roughly tightens in her gut. (Y/N)’s gasps and cries desperate for the climax as she grips the hard flesh of his back. Just as she was reaching the peak, he stops.

“Asshole!” She curses at him as he pulls out of her. He chuckles before licking the tip of his soiled finger. Her eyes burning onto his mouth as he groans at the taste.

“Sweet as I thought..” he praises as he uses the hand to pump his cock. He climbs on top of her as he continues. “I’m gonna have to have a better taste next time, but I need you too bad right now…”

She calms her raging breaths as she smiles softly. “Next time?”

Roy pulls her legs up to her chest as he hooks her ankles on his shoulders. His red hot tip played with her clit as he rubs it through her soaked folds. He chuckles at her hopeful voice as he leans down to press a soft peck to her lips.

“Of course,” Roy whispers as his tip catches the entrance. “I don’t think I can go back to being friends after this..”

He slowly pushes into her as her hands shoot onto him as best she could. With her legs pinned to her chest, she can only grasp his bicep and his lower back as she is forced to endure the painful stretch of her neglected cunt welcoming him.

A groan ripping in his throat as he finally seats himself fully into her before peppering kisses on her face.

“Was gonna ask you out on a nice date without the kids around…gonna see if we would be a good fit.” He mutters as his mind seems to run on blanks. His hips rolling to gain some friction in the tight confines of her walls.

Her little breathless moans encouraging him as Roy begins to thrust shallowly to work her open before he pulls out almost completely. He slams back into her befor continuing his non coherent comment.

“But fuck…I don’t regret this. God, if I knew you would look so fucking hot in my bed…” He groans as his head dips to bite along her neck. “And your pussy is so tight…It’s driving me crazy. I wonder how a sweet thing like you could like me…”

His cock messaging all the right nerves in her as (Y/N)’s nails clawed into him. Her moans turning to incoherent shrieks as his tip abuses her spot, remembering exactly where it was when he found it earlier. Her guts twisting at both the words and his abusing pace. The denied orgasm from earlier building back up as her desperation grew wilder.

“God, Roy…So full…so good.”

Fuck she looked pretty. Her lips wet with tears and sip as she cries. Her eyes blown out in addictive lust and watery tears. Roy couldn’t help but cup her jaw in his hand and kisses her. The now familiar taste of mint and nicotine making her more addicted as his tongue claimed every inch of hers. He pulls away as his groans start matching her whines as his hand snakes between them to rub her clit.

“Honey, I may have to fuck a baby into you…” He mumbles as he buries his face in her neck. Her walls responding in a vice grip as he roughens his pace to meet their impending climax. “You like that, pretty girl? Want me to knock you up and give Wren and Lian a little sibling? Give you a nice big family with a white picket fence? God, you’re such a sweet thing that I wouldn’t mind keeping you as my pretty little girlfriend…”

“Roy!” She whines as her body shakes. Her walls closing in on him as she finally reaches her peak. Her eyes rolling back as stars cross her vision before Roy slams into her one more time as his hot cum fills her welcoming womb.

The pair remain still for a moment as soft pecks were exchange. Roy gently pulls out before he helps his love stretch back out. His hands massaging her thighs before grabbing his abandoned jacket to wipe her thighs and himself clean.

“You wanna go out tomorrow?” Her cracked voice catching the archer off guard before he smiles.

“With or without children?”

“Without. They are at a sleep over and gonna go to the zoo tomorrow with their friends.”

“Then it’s a date.”

A/N: Okay I didn’t know how to end this because Ngl I was tired on working on this tbh. I hope y’all enjoyed reading this and let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs are encouraged.

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE MY WORKS TO BE STOLEN, PLAGIARIZED, COPIED, REPOSTED, OR TRANSFERRED ONTO OTHER BLOGS, ACCOUNTS, AND WEBSITES.

#roy harper x reader #roy harper #roy harper x you #arsenal x reader #arsenal #lian harper #Roy Harper fanfic #Arsenal fanfic #batman fanfic writer #red hood fanfic writer #red hood and the outlaws #simpingforheros

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