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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps.

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine.

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice.

The hormones don’t help either.

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out.

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off.

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain.

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie.

Ah, right. Jamie.

Your boyfriend.

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago.

Shit.

You call him back and he answers on the first ring.

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side.

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff.

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate.

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags.

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross.

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun.

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out.

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross.

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does.

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are.

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking.

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out.

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt.

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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footprintsinthesxnd · 8 months ago

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Just Friends?

Rosie Rosenthal x Y/n Summary: Y/n and Rosie had been friends ever since they were children. They did everything together and eventually Y/n ended up falling head over heels for her best friend, but she could never pluck up the courage to tell him, until it was too late. Warnings: heartbreak, unrequited love, childhood sweethearts

Y/n had known Rosie nearly all her life. Growing up alongside him in Brooklyn, New York, she’d instantly warmed to the curly, brown-haired boy that had bumped into her on the street outside her house. Her family was new to the area and Rosie’s family had instantly taken them in as a fellow Jewish family. From then the rest was history and they went everywhere together. Most weeks consisted of dinner at each other's houses, including family meals with each other's families on Friday nights.

Rosie had taken Y/n to her first jazz performance when she was sixteen and from then on the pair were hooked. It was their thing to do together and so any shows or clubs were often frequented by the pair. Rosie was a far superior dancer to Y/n, but she tried to keep up the best she could, allowing Rosie to spin her around the floor like she was the only girl in the world. It was moments like that when she was in Rosie’s arms that Y/n realised just how special Rosie was to her. She’d have done anything for him.

She’d been there for him during his time at Brooklyn Law School and when he graduated and joined a firm in Manhattan. It was one of the proudest moments of her life, seeing him become a lawyer. He’d always believed in fighting for what was right and now he was going to show the world what an incredible person he was. That night they’d spent time sitting on the roof of her family home, talking for hours as they watched the stars. It was the early hours of the morning before they snuck back inside and Rosie slept on her bedroom floor, to not disturb her parents. Y/n couldn’t sleep that night, instead listening to Rosie’s soft snores as she relished in him sleeping beside her.

She wasn’t exactly sure when she realised that she loved Rosie. Was it the time he’d taken her out to the cinema to catch a movie and they ended the evening with dinner and a walk home through Prospect Park? Or maybe the time that he’d taken her up to the top of his house to look through the night sky? They’d spent hours up there, lead on a blanket beside each other, pointing out the different stars. Or maybe it was on December 8th 1941 when he told her he’d enlisted? She’d cried herself to sleep that night, and many nights after that. The thought of losing him was too much to bear. The final straw was when she said goodbye to him before he headed to Laredo, Texas to learn to fly B-17 Flying Fortress. She’d nearly told him then. Nearly told him how she’d loved him for years and that he’d better come back to her, but she didn’t.

“I can’t believe you’re going on an adventure without me. We promised we’d always do things like this together,” she pleaded, clutching tightly to Rosie’s hand. “You promised me, Rosie.”

Rosie's own eyes were tearful as he pulled her in close, nuzzling his nose into her neck as he had always done when they were children. “I know I promised, Y/n, but this is the one time that you can’t follow me. It’s not safe for you and I want to keep you safe.” He looked at her sincerely, his large, blue eyes staring down at her with all the kindness and comfort he could muster as he fought his own emotions.

She knew he was only doing this because he felt a sense of duty and not because he wanted to leave her. If it was up to Rosie he’d never have left her side, but he couldn’t admit that not to Y/n. She was his best friend and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin their friendship before he headed off to war. What worried him more was that she would feel the same and that despite their love for each other he’d be shot down and killed in action, leaving her even more heartbroken. He couldn’t do that to Y/n, not his Y/n.

Neither of them could admit what they felt so instead, Y/n wished him luck and told him to be safe, and Rosie promised he would write. She saw him occasionally if he was home on leave, and they corresponded via weekly letters but she hardly saw him until she arrived at Thorpe Abbotts in late September 1943.

Y/n had finally had enough of trying to help the war effort back in the States, she’d signed up for the Red Cross when Rosie had enlisted but she wanted to be in the thick of it, to be alongside the men who were fighting for their freedom.

Her first experience of life on the base was the bear hugs she’d received from Tatty and Helen, her fellow Red Cross girls, who were ecstatic another woman was joining their team.

“We are going to have a lot of fun, don’t you worry,” Tatty reassured her as they stacked the crates of supplies into the Nissen hut being used as a warehouse.

“You can count on that,” Helen added, “There’s probably going to be another dance soon.” Helen smiled sadly, and Tatty and Y/n shared a sympathetic look. Y/n had heard that Helen had been sweet on Lieutenant Nash, whom she’d heard of in her letters from Rosie, she’d never met him but he seemed like a sweet man. She didn’t know what she’d do if she found out that Rosie was… she stopped herself before she worried herself into a frenzy. Rosie was fine, and he was somewhere here on base, she just had to find him.

Helen excused herself to go and collect some more boxes, while Tatty and Y/n continued stacking, chatting quietly amongst themselves. The first pilot Y/n met was none other than Major Cleven and Major Egan who gave her a warm welcome. They stuck their heads around the warehouse door, Major Egan smiling cheekily.

“Well, hello ladies, who do we have here?” He asked, leaning back against a stack of crates, his moustache twitching as he grinned at her.

Major Cleven stood beside him, a soft smile on his lips as he nodded towards her.

Before Y/n could introduce herself Tatty stepped in, “This is my lovely new colleague, Y/n who is off limits to the likes of you, Major.” She pointed her finger at the moustached Major who raised his hands in surrender.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Tatty. Scouts honour,” he saluted her, sending a wink Y/n’s way that had her blushing for the next hour.

“You’ll soon get used to that sort of behaviour around here,” Tatty assured her, finishing up with the last of the boxes. “Just ignore Major Egan, he’s nothing but trouble.” Tatty linked her arm through Y/n’s pulling her in the opposite direction to the Majors. “Those pilots are all the same.”

“Oh I can imagine,” Y/n laughed, “Don’t worry I already have my heart set on a pilot,” she mumbled her thoughts drifting to Rosie and his boyish grin.

Tatty turned to head, eyes wide and mouth forming a small ‘o’ as she waited for more information, “Well don’t leave a girl hanging, Y/n. Who is he?”

Y/n grinned, shaking her head stubbornly, “I’m not telling you all my secrets on the first day, Tatty. You’ll just have to wait.”

She could see Tatty rolling her eyes dramatically, but she didn’t say anything else. Y/n wondered how long it would be until she ran into Rosie and that was when she did.

He was strolling along in his class A uniform, his brunette curls bouncing as he walked, and a beautiful woman on his arm. Her blonde curls sat perfectly on her shoulders, her lilac dress hugging her curves perfectly. She looked so small and dainty beside Rosie. She was perfect.

Y/n felt the lump growing in her throat, her lungs growing tight with each short breath. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be true.

Just as she was about to turn away from the scene, turn and run away from the man who had her heart, his dark eyes caught hers and he stopped in his tracks.

“Y/n?” He called out, a beaming smile spreading across his lips as he jogged towards her. Why did he have to look so perfect?

Before she could protest, Rosie had lifted her into his arms, spinning her around effortlessly. Y/n wanted to feel safe in Rosie’s arms just like she had all the other times he’d held her, she wanted to stay in his arms forever but the blonde woman behind him caught her eye and she pushed against Rosie’s chest. He placed her down quickly, his hands still resting on her shoulders.

“I didn’t know you were coming to England!” He exclaimed, clearly excited by the arrival of his childhood best friend. Y/n only wished she could be this happy.

“Well, here I am. Surprise,” Y/n replied, a strained smile forming on her lips as she tried not to choke on her words. She didn’t want him to realise that he’d hurt her, she didn’t want to make a scene. They were childhood best friends after all, they had no ties, no commitment to one another so why shouldn’t Rosie find himself a girl of his own? “I finally managed to persuade the Red Cross to give me an overseas position.”

“I’m so pleased you’re here,” Rosie pulled her into another hug, this one more gentle. She pressed her nose into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his aftershave. The aftershave that Y/n had first bought him for his eighteenth birthday, had been expensive but Rosie had always been worth it.

“I’m happy to be here,” she assured him, stepping back and eyeing the blonde beside him suspiciously. She had her eyes trained on the ground as she pushed the earth awkwardly with her shoe. Y/n cleared her throat, motioning to the girl who Rosie glanced at quickly, his arm coming to rest around her shoulders.

“Y/n, I’d like you to meet my girl, Elizabeth,” he grinned widely, looking between the women.

Swallowing her pride Y/n reached forward with a warm smile, “It’s lovely to meet you, Elizabeth.”

The girl grinned in return, her nervousness from earlier disappearing, “Call me Lizzy, please. It’s lovely to meet you too, Y/n, I’ve heard so much about you from Robert.”

Robert. Of course, she called him Robert.

That name seemed foreign to her after calling him Rosie for so many years.

Lizzy couldn’t have been a nicer girl. She was young, pretty, funny and seemed besotted with Rosie, and he was with her. Y/n couldn’t help the jealousy building inside of her.

It should have been her tucked safely under Rosie’s arm. It should have been her that Rosie kissed sweetly on the cheek. Why wasn’t it her?

Tatty coughed quietly beside her, drawing her back to the present where she realised she was staring at Rosie. Her cheeks blushed furiously which couldn’t have been missed by anyone there. She berated herself for making it so obvious, she’d hidden her feelings for so many years and here she was making it plain to everyone.

Lizzy smiled sympathetically at Y/n and she hated that Lizzy was being so nice to her. She wanted to hate the girl, but how could she?

Rosie seemed oblivious to the situation, still grinning between the women.

“We should be getting on, Y/n, we’ve still got some things to organise this afternoon,” Tatty beckoned her to follow and Y/n nodded thankfully. Thank goodness for Tatty.

“Yes, we do,” Y/n agreed, stepping back from Rosie and Lizzy with a small smile. “It was great to see you again, Rosie, it is, and it’s lovely to meet you, Lizzy.”

Rosie went to speak but Lizzy pulled at his hand, silencing him, “It was lovely to meet you too, Y/n. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other around the base.”

“Definitely,” Y/n agreed, and in truth, she didn’t mind seeing Lizzy around the base, it was seeing Rosie that would be the hardest thing.

Rosie’s dark eyes met hers, a warm smile on his lips as his eyes sparkled like they always had. His eyes always seemed to gleam when he smiled, something that had always made Y/n’s heartbeat a little faster. Why had he always had this effect on her?

Tatty’s grip on her arm tightened as she led Y/n away, keeping her steady until they rounded the corner. Y/n composure shattered like glass as she fell to her knees, lungs screaming to air as a broken sob fell from her lips. It felt like everything that Y/n had ever relied on, everything she had ever held dear had been ripped away from her in a matter of minutes, and all she had left were her memories.

“It’s Rosie, isn’t it?” Tatty asked, kneeling beside her and brushing the stray curls away from Y/n's face. “I’m so sorry, Y/n, I didn’t know…”

“No, no it’s… it’s not your fault. You didn’t know and I should…” Y/n sighed, wiping away the tears quickly, and taking a deep, shaky breath. “I should have told him how I felt a long time ago, I can’t expect him to just wait around forever.”

It was true, she’d had so many opportunities to tell him how she felt if only she had plucked up the courage. Now she would just have to live with her decision and try her best to be happy for him, after all, they were still friends. Even if it hurt like hell to see him with someone else at least he was still in her life. They could just be friends.

Tags: @georgieluz @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @blurredcolour @artlover8992 @b00ks1ut @xxluckystrike @hockeyboysarehot @groovin2beats @kmc1989 @ginabaker1666 @hesbuckcompton-baby

#masters of the air #rosie rosenthal #robert rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x reader #rosie rosenthal x y/n #masters of the air fic #mota #hbowar #rosie’s riveters

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joshsindigostreak · 11 months ago

Text

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Nine

“Your pretty face and electric soul.”

Vampire!Josh x Vampire!Reader

Authors Note: Good morning, readers! Sorry for putting yall through the wringer in Chapter Eight. It will happen again, but not in this chapter! This one is a lot sweeter. If you haven’t read Chapter Eight yet I highly suggest you do so because this chapter won’t make a lot of sense without it. Also as always my inbox and DMs are always open so if you want to come scream at me after a chapter feel free to do so! Every single one of y'alls comments and thoughts means the world to me and I love hearing what you think. 😘😘😘

Word Count: 7310

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood, allusions to violence, SMUT, 18+, minors DNI, blood play, teasing, brat taming if you squint, fang play(?), I think that’s it. :)

Sixteen hours. That's how long Josh had been asleep. The first two hours, you didn’t even move. You just held him as he slept, gently cleaning up any blood with a towel and running your fingers through his hair. Eventually, you shifted from behind him and got him properly tucked in. But you kept your promise, your eyes never left him for a second. After redressing you laid down next to him on the bed over the duvet.

You were so focused on him that you didn’t even hear the door open, or notice Dimitri standing next to the bed.

“How is our dear Joshua?”

Without looking up, you say,, “he’s fine.”

“How long has it been?”

“Sixteen hours.”

Dimitri hummed in response, “how long did it take for you to wake up?”

“Two nights.”

“Typically it's around the same amount of time for a Maker and their new Vampire,” he paused and said, “have you slept at all, darling?”

Ignoring his question you replied, “some people don’t wake up at all…”

“Oh that's very rare, and you know that-”

“Rare, but not impossible.”

“I knew someone who took six nights to come back, and do you remember that Mary girl who lived with us during the twenties? She took over a week. It all just depends, darling.”

“How long did you take?”

He looked off in the distance for a moment, “roughly three nights. Woke up in the basement of a church of all places.”

“I was in a carriage,” you said softly, the memories floating back to you, “in the middle of the day, no less. He was inside, sleeping.” For a moment, you were back in that carriage, terrified and unsure of where you were. You had made the mistake of pulling one of the curtains to the side to look out the window, only to be immediately met with searing pain on your hand from the sun. It was hours before your Maker came back to check on you.

Dimitri shook his head, “Isaac wasn’t the most…thoughtful of Maker’s.”

You sat up on the bed, laughing a little, “that's putting it mildly.”

“Have you heard from him at all?”

“Not since ‘84, and even that was too much.”

Dimitri chuckled slightly before turning towards the door, “you should come downstairs, Portia and Magnus are finally back from their holiday. They’d love to see you.”

You shook your head and looked back at Josh, “no, I’m good…I’m staying up here.”

He smiled warmly, “I meant what I said last night, that you must mean a lot to him. Some people beg to be turned for other reasons, power, immortality, staying young forever, but he simply didn’t want to see you hurt. He didn’t even hesitate once he heard the terms. Love like that is rare.”

The l-word caught you off guard and you sputtered, “I don’t know…I mean…we’ve barely even…it's kind of soon for that.”

“We’re Vampires, darling, since when do we care about time?” You were silent, trying to will the blush away from your skin. Before he left the room, he said, “if you need anything, just call for Phillip. He’ll bring you anything you need.”

You resisted the urge to make a smartass comment about Phillip, “thank you, Dimitri.”

“Any time, darling,” he said before disappearing down the hall.

Josh remained still in the bed, having not moved very much at all in the last few hours. You reached over and brushed his curls back again, and you weren’t sure if you were soothing Josh or soothing yourself.

As the hours passed, you could not fight off sleep any longer, eventually letting it wash over you as you laid beside your lover. It wasn’t a restful sleep, in fact you found yourself waking up every other hour or so. Each time you’d sit up and check the time, noting how long it had been. You were still so full from the draining that you couldn’t even fathom feeding for at least a couple more days. Dimitri had checked in a few more times, sitting beside the bed to keep you company, but you turned down any invitation to come downstairs. You couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t miss him waking up, you were not going to chance Josh waking up frightened and alone. You wouldn’t let history repeat itself.

~!~

Miles away, a now solitary hunter paced around his brother’s apartment. He had not felt ‘right’ in hours. Specifically, sixteen hours and five minutes. His Witch had tried to calm him down several times, but this was something she couldn’t fix. Not with her words, not with her love, and not with her magic.

~!~

It was the second night now, and you were dozing next to him. Movement next to you had you snapping your eyes open, and you saw Josh had rolled over on his side, facing you. His eyes were still closed, but his brows were knitted tightly together, and a frown was fixed on his face.

You reached out, wanting to smooth your hand over his face, but his hand shot out from under the covers and snatched your wrist midair. The reflex was too fast, and his grip was too hard to be…human. Your entire body froze.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open, his brown eyes staring at you, but not seeing you. You were flipped onto your back as he hovered over you, hand still gripping your wrist next to your head. He was still looking at you as if he didn’t recognize you. That was common after a Vampire wakes up, as the adjustment period was far longer than the movies and books would lead you to believe.

“Boy Scout…,” you whispered slightly, hoping to jog his memory.

A low rumble came from his chest in response. That was another thing, it often took Vampires a little while to regain the ability to speak.

Breathing heavily over you, his eyes raked down your form and his other hand reached towards your face. Those soft fingertips of his grazed your cheek, tracing your bone structure, your nose, and down your neck. His hand curled around your neck, his thumb slid across your jaw and landed on your lips, a familiar move he had done many times.

You remained stock still, letting him explore. His eyes hadn’t met yours again, instead he was staring down at your lips while his thumb rubbed your bottom lip a few times. Taking a chance, you slightly puckered your lips to kiss the pad of his thumb. He blinked several times before finally looking up and into your eyes. There he was. His eyes softened immediately and he opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. He tried again, but it wasn’t happening for now.

“It’s ok…you don’t have to talk right now, Josh,” you whispered.

Instead, he crashed his lips onto yours, and sank his body down to rest fully on top of you. The hand wrapped around your wrist let go and slid up to thread his fingers in yours, which you gladly squeezed back. Now it was your turn to reach up and cup his face, feeling his muscles move as he tilted his head to get a better angle.

But the sweet moment was cut short by him wrenching away from your face in pain. He sat up and straddled your waist, hands covering his mouth as he groaned into his palms. His fangs. They were trying to come down but he didn’t know how to relax and let it happen. Contrary to how they’re depicted in various forms of media, fangs don’t just instantly ‘click’ down. It's a skill. A skill one has to learn and hone in order to be able to feed properly and efficiently.

You carefully sat up and gently took his hands away from his face. His eyes looked scared again, and you quickly shushed him and softly spread your thumbs across his upper lip where his gums were. He winced a little at the sensitivity as his hands rested on your forearms.

“It's your fangs trying to come out for the first time. You have to relax, Josh,” he looked at you skeptically, “they can’t come down until you relax. Breathe through your nose for me? Yeah?”

He fully sat down on your thighs, and did what he was told and took deep breaths through his nose. His eyes were trained on you the entire time. He could feel his teeth begin to move, his canine teeth especially. It felt like an invisible force was prying them out of his mouth.

“I know it hurts, it always does the first few times, but soon you won’t even feel it happening, I promise,” your thumbs moved to his cheeks, your right one resting where his dimple normally was.

He nodded slightly and leaned into your hand, trying to stay relaxed.

“Watch me, ok?” You opened your mouth, baring your teeth and took a few deep breaths and slowly let down your own fangs. After over 350 years, it was hard to slow down the process, as you could complete the action as fast as blinking at this point, but you tried your best so your hunter-turned-Vampire could see it for himself. He studied the movement as it happened, finally having a proper visual to mentally focus on.

After a few more deep breaths, his teeth shifted again, this time down, but not all the way. A smile lit up your face as he parted his lips to show you, and you whispered praises to him as he continued breathing. With a slight groan, his teeth descended all the way, and you saw his fangs for the first time.

You stared in awe. While you met him as a human, seeing fangs in his mouth looked so…natural on him, as if they had always been there. Unexpected tears formed in your eyes, as it really hit you that he was a Vampire now, he was like you, and the two of you were the same.

“Beautiful…,” you mused while touching one with your thumb, “do you want to see them?”

He nodded, and you looked around to see if there was a mirror. The closest thing you had was your phone, and you quickly snatched it off the nightstand and turned the camera on, flipping it to selfie-mode and handing it to Josh. He turned the phone over in his hands and held it in front of his face. It was definitely strange to see protruding fangs in his mouth, but they didn’t feel out of place. He ran his tongue over them a few times, feeling how sharp they were, how much longer they were from his other teeth, and he turned his head back and forth to see them at different angles. Satisfied, he tossed your phone to the side on the bed before turning back to you and cupping your face once more to collide his lips to yours, this time smiling into the kiss.

It had been so long since you’ve kissed a fellow Vampire, especially one you lov- had feelings for. Your tongue slid across his teeth, feeling the contours and length of his fangs, and it was your turn to smile against his lips. He laid you back down onto the bed, shifting his legs so that he was between yours. His lips were everywhere, kissing all over your face and playfully scraping the tips against your skin.

But the urge to drive them into your neck, to fully taste you in a way he couldn’t when he was human, was reaching a boiling point in his system. He was putting more and more pressure against your neck, but not breaking the skin…yet.

You quickly recognized what he was doing, what he wanted, and you pushed him away so that he was back over your face instead.

“As much…as much as I’d love for you to do that…your first feed has to be with human blood…,” you were almost sad in telling him no, but this was a process that wasn’t fully complete until he tasted human blood for himself. It was what fully sealed a Vampire in their new form of existence, the full stop at the end of a sentence. Sheepishly, he closed his lips over his teeth, feeling like he had done something wrong. You caught the look in his eyes and quickly reassured him, “no no, it's ok, we’ll have plenty of time to do that afterwards, I promise.” You figured Dimitri himself would have a human or two on hand for feeding, as he was never a fan of blood bags.

As if on cue, the older Vampire in question rapped his knuckles on the door as he opened it.

“Is our dear-,” before he could finish his sentence Josh immediately shifted on the bed and practically shielded you from Dimitri, his instincts taking over briefly. Dimitri held up his hands in truce, “now now, Joshua I’m not going to do anything. It's wonderful to see you awake and back with us.”

You sat up behind Josh, looking at Dimitri over his shoulder, “you wouldn’t happen to have a human on hand? Please?”

“About that…after we talked earlier I let the Council know about your decision and that you were handling it yourself. They insisted on sending a representative here to make sure it actually happened.” He sighed before continuing, “Judith…is downstairs in the conservatory waiting for you.”

“Right now? He still can’t talk! He needs to have his first feed.”

“I know, darling, I didn't expect them to send her this quickly,” he rolled his eyes as he said ‘her’, letting you know that Judith was not one of his friends on the Council. “I’ll give you a few minutes, but it’ll be better for everyone if you don’t keep her waiting.” With a sympathetic look, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

“I’m so sorry, Josh, I didn’t kn-,” he turned and pressed a finger to your lips and shook his head, shushing you and letting you know that he understood. He got off the bed and collected his clothes from earlier that you had folded and placed on the couch. He threw his shirt on as he walked towards the ensuite at the far end of the room. You had already dressed while you had waited for him to wake up, so you sat at the edge of the bed and let him get ready. As he walked to the ensuite, you couldn’t help but notice that his walk was slightly different. His shoulders were straighter, his strides were quieter but more deliberate. You wondered if he himself even noticed the changes yet. From the angle of where you were sitting, you could just barely see himself checking his teeth out in the mirror again. His fangs had retreated back into his gums, and now his top row of teeth looked completely normal.

His eyes looked at you through the mirror, catching your gaze. He smirked at you, before turning to finish getting dressed. As he exited the ensuite he locked eyes with you again and in an attempt at his new speed, he tried to race over to you. However, stopping was a completely different story, and he ended up tackling you onto the bed.

Giggling, you reached up and traced his nose with your finger, “don’t worry, you’ll get there, Boy Scout.” You lifted your head to kiss him, and whispered against his lips, “come on, let's get this over with.”

It wasn’t hard to find the conservatory, all you had to do was follow the classical music being played. Just like the rest of the manor, Dimitri spared no expense in this room either. It was a massive space, with a complete wall of windows that went from the floor all the way into the ceiling, creating a dome-like appearance. It was a perfect view of the stars at night, and a perfectly lethal place for a Vampire to be in after sunrise. He also had so many plants in the room it almost looked like a small forest in the room. Most of the flowering plants had closed their blooms for the night, and the evergreens sat peacefully in their pots. The main source of light in the room were the various lanterns that were strategically placed among the greenery. It created such an intimate atmosphere, especially with the light of the Waning Moon filtering in from the windows above.

The beauty of the room stopped when you spotted the Council member sitting rather stiffly on the couch towards the middle of the room. Judith, as Dimitri called her, was a Vampire who appeared to be in her late fifties, with blonde hair that was so faded it almost looked gray at certain angles. She had it in a tight ponytail, making her sharp cheekbones the main feature of her face. Her eyes were equally gray, and they narrowed at the sight of Josh.

“Ah, finally, there they are,” she said in mock enthusiasm.

“Judith please,” Dimitri said with a sigh while nursing a drink in his hand.

Josh’s hand slid into yours as you made your way to the center of the room. His expression was neutral, but you knew his mind was full of thoughts and words for the snotty Vampire in front of him.

Judith uncrossed her ankles and stood up, clipboard firmly in the crook of her arm. She gave you a look that let you know to let her look at Josh alone, and you reluctantly let go of his hand and went over to stand next to Dimitri. Her back was to you now, but you were still able to maintain eye contact with Josh.

“Open your mouth,” she commanded flatly. She wanted to see his fangs.

Josh looked at you briefly over her shoulder, starting to panic because he had only made his fangs come down once at this point, and was still getting the hang of it. He put his hands behind his back and wrung his wrists, trying to remember what you had told him.

You kept eye contact with him, and motioned for him to take some deep breaths and to relax. Dimitri nodded along next to you; he wanted Josh to succeed almost as much as you did.

Josh’s Adams apple bobbed a little before he opened his mouth. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to replicate how he had done it upstairs less than an hour ago. Judith stood there, staring at his teeth with an unimpressed look on her face. But after a few tense minutes, his fangs descended and locked in place.

Judith made a small “hmph” sound and reached into the pocket of her skirt to fish out a measuring tape. She held the tape next to one of his fangs, and wrote down the measurement on the clipboard. She switched to the other side to get the other’s measurement, before mumbling loud enough for everyone to hear, “it's ok they’ll get longer in time.”

Josh clamped his mouth shut and gave her a look that was so pointed, you were glad he wasn’t able to actually speak. But the way his eyes glared at her spoke volumes on their own.

Judith ignored him while she made notes on the clipboard, scribbling away her thoughts and observations.

“Has he fed yet,” she said without looking up.

“Umm…no, not yet-”

“Excellent. Bring in one of your humans, Dimitris,” she commanded as she finished her notes and looked back up at Josh.

Dimitri sighed and took a long sip of his drink before motioning to one of his staff to fetch one of his human companions. He always had a steady supply of willing humans who were into being fed on. He had a knack for finding them in the haystack that was humanity.

Josh looked at you again over Judith’s shoulder, the same panicky look from before had returned on his face.

You mouthed, it's going to be ok, at him as the door opened and a woman in her mid twenties entered the room.

Her eyes lit up when she saw Dimitri, “hi Dimitri…,” she gave him a flirty wave with her fingers.

“Pleasure as always, Rebeckah,” he said with a small smile. She already knew where to go and dutifully went over to the couch and sat down, keeping her eyes on Dimitri the whole time.

Judith motioned for Josh to join Rebeckah, and made his way over to the couch and sat down. You started to follow him before she barked, “I’d like to witness this alone, actually.”

Something in you snapped, “the fuck you wi-”

Dimitri quickly stepped in, “what she’s trying to say is, as his Maker, I think it’s more than fair for her to be in the room for his first feed? Since he doesn’t know what he’s doing, she has a right to be here. In fact it would be the responsible thing to do, don’t you agree?”

Judith rolled her eyes, “fine, but she can’t interfere. The Council wants to see how he does on his own.”

The Council didn’t want to see shit, you thought, they wanted him to fail. They wanted the ‘I told you so.’

Dimitri’s large hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a comforting squeeze.

“Very well,” he said in a clipped tone.

You looked up at Dimitri, the worry written all over your face. He gave your shoulder another squeeze.

Tentatively, Josh reached over and took Rebeckah’s wrist in his hand, figuring that would be the best place. He could feel her pulse through her arm, and it made his gums above his fangs throb. He felt is instincts trying to guide him, which was a good sign until-

“Oh not the wrist, it's your first feed after all, I know you really want the neck deep down,” she was practically taunting him at this point, and turned back to the older Vampire and used his own words against him, “don’t you agree, Dimitris?”

Dimitri’s mouth twisted into a frown, “it is the ideal spot I suppose…”

You were practically vibrating with rage right now, and you wanted to physically rip Judith’s head off her body yourself. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to be right there with him, guiding him through it and making sure he didn’t take too much.

“Don’t be shy, get closer to her,” Judith said while flicking her wrist at Josh.

Rebeckah obliged first and scooted close to him, angling her head to expose her neck. The smell of her blood filled his nostrils, and at first he thought he was hallucinating. He knew his senses would be stronger, but actually experiencing it was completely different.

Judith had her back to you and Dimitri once again, and you used this to your advantage as you looked at Josh over her shoulder. You feigned scratching your neck to show him where to put his hand, which he immediately copied.

He lowered his face to her neck, the scent of her blood was almost overwhelming to him now and it was still safely in her body. Part of him was running on pure instinct, and getting impatient that he hadn’t sunk his teeth into her yet, whereas the other part of him was having an out of body experience as the reality of the situation hit him. He was really about to drink blood, as a Vampire, for the first time. However, the instinctual side of him won out and he pressed his new fangs against her neck. He could feel her pulse against his teeth, and with the same ‘fuck it’ mentality one has before a shot of tequila, he pierced her flesh and her blood began flowing into his mouth.

Rebeckah made a small squeak, but she relaxed in his hold and a serene smile spread across her face.

Josh breathed through his nose and took his first real pull from her, and the sudden burst of flavor nearly had his eyes rolling back. He never expected blood to taste this good, let alone have a flavor profile. He recalled the taste of blood as he remembered it from his youth, that gross metallic flavor that would fill his mouth whenever he’d lose a tooth, or that one time Jake hit him in the mouth while they were fighting and cut his lip open. But now? Now he was getting notes of…lilies? Lavender maybe? It was all so overwhelming he wasn’t sure, he just knew that it was good. He kept pulling and pulling, feeling it run out of his mouth a little and down his chin.

You on the other hand were watching him like a hawk, and listening to Rebeckah’s heartbeat even closer. It was still steady and normal, but you knew it wouldn’t be that way for much longer. The way Josh was pulling was very deep, but he didn’t understand that yet. If you hadn’t been so stressed about your lack of involvement, you would’ve noted how absolutely gorgeous he looked while feeding. He needed to slow down, if not stop completely. You thought back to your first feed, and it didn’t end well for the human involved because you had zero guidance. Isaac had just let you do what you wanted and cleaned up the mess later. But you didn’t want that for Josh, he didn’t deserve to be traumatized right out of the gate like that.

He didn’t want this to end, part of him wanted to keep going until he couldn’t anymore. But this low thumping noise in his head got slower, and it was then he realized he had been hearing her heartbeat the entire time. It was slowing down, and he had just enough wherewithal to know he needed to let go. But knowing and doing were two different things.

You were starting to panic, and you looked at Josh, hoping he’d look up just long enough to make eye contact with you. Judith started scribbling notes again, and you wanted to crack that entire clipboard over her head. You thought about faking a cough, making some sort of noise, but you didn’t want her to send you out of the room for ‘interfering.’

Josh wrenched his eyes open, and looked up to find you. He saw your eyes were watery and filled with panic, and he understood why. From your vantage point, you mouthed the words, “you need to let go,” to him, and he wanted to listen, he really did, but it was as if his mouth and his brain weren’t working together. But, he tried anyway, and loosened his grip on Rebeckah’s neck and slowly worked at dislodging his fangs from her neck. He fought the urge that was screaming at him to keep going, to drain her dry like a juice box, but he refused to let that voice win. With more force than he would’ve liked, he pulled his teeth from her neck, and let go of her completely.

Before he could fully relax, he saw you point at your teeth, and then patted the side of your neck with those same fingers, silently telling him to use his blood to heal the bite. Josh sprung into action, quickly and hastily biting his index finger, breaking the skin and rubbing his own blood amongst her own on her neck along the puncture wounds. Within seconds they began to close and he was able to lean back on the couch, out of breath.

Judith paused for a second in her scribbling, and looked at her watch on her wrist and wrote down the time. She observed Rebeckah for another minute, who seemed completely fine with the situation and was only slightly miffed she had blood on her dress.

Dimitri gestured at the staff member standing by the door, “please take Miss Rebeckah to the kitchens to get her something to eat. Have the chef make her whatever she wants.”

Rebeckah smiled and stood up from the couch, “and what about my dress?”

“I’ll get you a new one, as always,” this made her smile as she made her way out of the room.

Without a second glance at Josh, Judith turned back to Dimitri and sighed, “I’ll give my observations to the Council but everything seems to be fine.” She looked at Josh over her shoulder, “welcome to your new life, don’t fuck up. We know who your family is, after all.”

Josh glared at her as she exited the room. Dimitri gave you a nod and left as well, leaving the two of you alone.

As soon as the door shut you rushed over to Josh, your hands immediately took his, as apologies fell from your mouth, “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t know that was going to happen, you weren’t supposed to be alone like that-”

“...sw-sweetheart…,” his voice was so faint, but it was there. He was gaining his voice back. Relief flooded through you, you didn’t realize just how much you missed his voice until he spoke again. You couldn’t take it anymore and practically lept into his lap and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. His arms instantly wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. He was so thankful to finally get his hands on you.

After spending several minutes just lying in his arms and breathing him in, you pulled back and said, “are you ok? How do you feel?”

A dreamy smile spread across his face, “honestly? I feel fucking incredible right now.” His voice was still scratchy, but it was gradually getting stronger.

You smiled back, “yeah? You did so good earlier, I want you to know that. They were setting you up to screw up but you didn’t. It's so difficult to stop like you did the first few times, let alone the first time. I’m so proud of you, Boy Scout.”

His cheeks reddened at the praise, “Ah, I just…I just remembered what you told me about listening for the heartbeat…had to force myself off though.”

You were beaming at him now, “I’m not saying it's going to be easy, but I just know you’re going to be so good at it in no time. Next time I’ll be right there with you, I promise. I won’t let anyone get in the way of that again.”

His hands slipped under your shirt and rubbed the skin of your back, “I know you wanted to be there, it wasn’t your fault…”

“But I-”

“I don’t want you to beat yourself up over this, it happened, but all we can do is move forward.”

You knew he was right, but you still felt bad, “I know I just-”

“Next time we can share, yeah?”

That surprised you, and you smirked at him, “Boy Scout…”

He glanced out the wall of windows, and noticed the dark blue sky was starting to get lighter, “I think…I think we need to go back upstairs…and shut the windows…,” the suggestion dripped from his voice.

“Race you there?”

“You better get started, sweetheart…,” his eyes bore into yours before you took off from the conservatory. The two of you were a pair of giggling blurs rushing up the stairs to the third floor. He caught up to you at the door, and lurched to a halt while pressing you up against the solid wood. You reached behind you to start twisting the doorknob as he snaked an arm around your waist. His eyes looked even darker in the dim lighting of the corridor, but his smile was sweet, a combination that only he could pull off.

Stumbling into the room, Josh locked the door behind him before reaching down and firmly gripping your thighs and wrapping them around his waist. He carried you backwards to the bed, while you stripped your shirt off and threw it blindly to the side. Your hands instantly returned to his cheeks as he laid you on the bed. He stood up momentarily to throw off his own shirt, before crawling up the bed and getting on top of you. The rest of your clothes were quickly shed, leaving the both of you naked.

Josh’s mouth devoured yours, sucking on your bottom lip before he slipped his tongue inside and tangled it with your own. You moaned into his mouth, the relief of him being okay and back in your arms spurring you on. He groaned and lifted off your lips slightly, running his tongue along his top teeth. He looked at you, a little annoyed at his own body as his fangs tried to descend again.

You recognized the look, and you smiled, “don’t fight it, Josh. Let them down, I wanna see them again…”

He closed his eyes for a few seconds and concentrated. They came down ever so slightly faster this time, but he still winced at the pain.

Staring at him, you reached up and gently touched one with your finger, “I just can’t get over how beautiful they look on you…”

His cheeks reddened before he started working his way down your body, kissing every bit of skin he could reach. Every so often he’d drag his fangs across your skin, causing you to arch your back. As he made his way down to your core, he deliberately skipped where you needed him most to pay attention to your thighs.

You sat up on your elbows and made a noise in protest, which made him chuckle against your skin. One of the few downsides (at least to him) to you being a supernatural creature was that any hickey’s he made would heal within minutes, but he loved littering your skin with them anyway. The way you arched towards him, trying to get him where you needed him only made him tease you further. Every time you thought he was going to put that perfect mouth of his against your core, he’d switch to the other thigh to nip and suck at your skin.

“If you don’t-”

Before you could finish your sentence your lover latched onto your core, flattening out his tongue and licking a stripe from your entrance to just below your clit. A frustrated noise escaped you, and his eyes met yours with the most mischievous energy behind them. Those pools of molten molasses seemed to darken even more. Tilting his head slightly and curling his lip up to show you his teeth, he drug one of his new fangs over the edges of your lips, up and up, and slowly circled your clit. He put just enough pressure for you to feel the sharp edge against your sensitive flesh, before diving in and sharply sucking your clit into his mouth. You cried out, loud enough to echo around the room, and you couldn’t give a shit if anyone in this fortress of a house could hear you.

Two of his fingers teased your entrance before plunging in, curling upwards and giving that spot inside you all the attention they could. His pace was quick and brutal, spurred on but the grip you had in in his hair and how you were practically fucking his mouth. He grinded his own need onto the mattress, desperate for some friction of his own.

It wasn’t long before your first orgasm of the night washed over you, making you shake beneath him while grinding on his face. His fingers worked even harder to ride it out, drawing it out as long as possible for you. But he didn’t give you a chance to fully still. Placing one final kiss to your clit, he crawled up your body to claim your mouth, letting you taste yourself all over him.

You were far from done when you flipped him over, straddling his hips and grinding against his cock. He threw his head back and made the sexiest whining sound you had heard in a long time. He sat up and gripped your ass, lifting you up to wrap your legs around his waist.

“Tell me what you want…,” he whispered against your mouth while keeping you hovered just above his cock.

“Josh please-”

“Josh please, what, sweetheart?”

“I need you, don’t be mean,” your voice was nearly an octave higher than normal, and now it was your turn to sound whiny.

“...and what do you need?”

Your nails dug into the skin at the base of his neck, not caring if they broke skin a little now, he could handle it.

“Your cock, Josh, I need your cock.”

His eyebrows raised in the cockiest manner, “oh? This? This cock?” Before you could answer he pulled you down onto him, plunging him deep inside as he bottomed out. His eyes rolled back at finally being inside you, and you used this distraction to tighten your pussy around him as revenge. A strangled noise left his throat, “you are…such…a little brat…”

You smirked as you started to work yourself on his cock, relishing in every ridge and vein he had to offer you. He kept one arm around your ass, guiding you and gripping you as he leaned back on his other hand. As your pace quickened, you felt your own gums start to itch and move. You let your fangs descend, not wanting or needing to hold back anymore while with your lover. He was kissing your shoulder, and you leaned your head down to graze your teeth against the shell of his ear.

He lifted his head, and gave you an equally toothy grin, both of you baring your fangs at each other.

“Boy Scout…,” you started, nearly breathless, “remember earlier when I told you to wait?” He instantly caught on to what you were referring to, when he had almost bit you earlier. His Adam's apple bobbed as he nodded. “If I let you do that…can I bite you too?”

His cock twitched inside you at the question, “please, please do…”

“Taste me, Josh, show me you know how,” you whispered.

Another strangled sound escaped him before he lowered his head and pierced your neck with his fangs. It had been…a long time, decades even, since you had had a Vampire taste you. It was such an intimate act, most considered it almost sacred.

Josh took a long pull off of you, and the first note that hit his tongue was a distinct cherry flavor, tart but sweet, along with a distinct undercurrent of sea salt. He could practically smell the ocean. Flashes and sounds started to flood his mind, swirling around in his mind's eye. They focused, and he saw you, as a teen in Jamestown, scrubbing the floors of the house you used to live in. A second flash, it's the Victorian era, and you’re giggling in bed with another man. You called him Colin before it dissipated. Another flash, it’s twenties and you look sad as you sipped your drink. You were surrounded by people partying, but you weren’t matching the energy. A final flash, this time it's the seventies and you look darling in your bell bottoms and feathered hair. You seemed happier then, laughing with a few girlfriends in a bar.

The feeling of his fangs in your skin hurtled you toward your second orgasm. Before you could reach your high, you bit down on your lover's flesh. His taste…his taste was the same, but it was so much more vibrant? As if it had been turned up several notches. That orangey citrus flooded your senses, and as the vanilla showed itself to you, flashes started behind your eyes too. A small, scared, seven year old Josh scrambled to stab a rogue Vampire in the leg with a knife from under his bed. Another flash, this time Josh was older, late teens at best, getting lectured by his father about a hunting job gone wrong. The importance of his responsibility as the “oldest” was being drilled into his head. Flash number three, Josh is sitting next to his twin in front of a fire, laughing at some inside joke as he brings his beer to his lips. Who knew Jake Kiszka was capable of smiling? The final flash was him gathering some files on a table, the one on top had your name clearly on the tab. He wasn’t in his apartment, but in a room that looked like an office.

Your vision went dark as your high overtook you, making you shake and pulse around him. His cock twitched inside you again, and a muffled groan shuddered against your skin letting you know he had reached his own high. Carefully, you each withdrew your teeth and lapped at the fresh blood on your skin as your wounds healed.

Josh kissed you softly, mixing your blood with his, enjoying the taste. He opened his eyes and smiled at you, feeling more content and happy than he had in days. The stress from the past week had completely evaporated, and in this moment, all he saw, all he cared about, was you.

His Vampire.

The adoration for him was written all over your face, and you silently noted the blood smeared all over him. You looked over your shoulder at the ensuite, and could see the edge of a clawfoot tub from the doorway.

“Lets get cleaned up, Boy Scout…”

His grin widened and he looked over your shoulder, seeing what you were looking at. He also saw the first light of the day start to filter in through the windows. Thankfully the bed was positioned in a way that didn’t put it anywhere near them, but in order to get the ensuite they’d have to cross them. Carefully he kept you in place as he reached for the remote on the nightstand.

He punched the buttons, and the shades came down. His hand squeezed the flesh of your ass, “only the moon gets a free show, sweetheart…”

You gave him a quick kiss before crawling off of him and leading him into the bathroom. Soon, the both of you were situated in the hot water, enjoying the extra wide clawfoot tub.

Josh tried to take the lead in cleaning up, but you stopped him and took it upon yourself to clean the blood off of his skin. He relaxed into the water as you swept the rag over his skin. Meticulously you cleaned any dry blood out of his beard and mustache, kissing him as you went. It had been a long time since someone had properly taken care of him afterwards.

It was clear to you that the new-Vampire exhaustion was creeping up on your lover, and you worked a little faster to get him cleaned up so the two of you could return to bed. He would probably have another long sleep again, but not nearly as long as that first one. The process of becoming a Vampire was complete, but it still took time for the body to adjust.

Soon you were back in bed with him, the covers pulled over your exhausted bodies as you wrapped yourselves around each other. His ear was on your chest, and you were softly grazing your nails against his scalp. His eyes were closed, and sleep was well on its way.

He pressed a soft kiss against your skin before mumbling, “...love you…”

You stared at him as he completely stilled in your arms, eyes welling up,

“Love you too, Boy Scout,” but you weren’t sure he heard it.

To be continued…

Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet ,

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #i see hell in your eyes #josh gvf #greta van fleet #enemies to lovers #slow burn

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spider-ghoul · 8 months ago

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The Pain of losing him (Pt. 1?/Intro)

Summery: After Luke left, his girlfriend is alone to find herself. And as the years pass by, the girl with pretty hair becomes the Son of death.

FYI: This is part one of a fic I'm also posting on Ao3 and this is gonna serve as a background for the actual story (starting in chapter two) I'll be posting soon.

Sorry if this is bad lmao

No major content warning xx

~~~~~~~~~

When Luke Castellan was 19, he left. It was only three weeks after his birthday, the last week of july. He tried to take me with him, he really did. At night, as I toss and turn in my sheets, I can still hear his sweet voice filled with venom.

“Darling, Please. Whoever Your Dad is still hasn't claimed you? Don't you think we could-”

“Stop it luke. You’re crazy. I’m getting Chiron-”

“Y/N, Darling, don’t.”

And as i broke into a run, Something stung my ankle. When I woke up in the medic cabin hours later, he was gone. And a uncouncus Percy Jackson was beside me, his body turning in his unwanted sleep.

I was fifteen then. My own birthday was coming up. I spent it at camp Half-blood without luke. Without knowing who my godly parent was. The Hermes cabin wasn’t the same without Luke, but I couldn’t leave camp. I attracted monsters like flies to honey. I didn’t know what else to do. I spent my nights in Luke's empty bed, any of the Hermes kids could have tried to take it from me. They didn’t. They missed the ghost of their brother just as much as I missed the ghost of my boyfriend.

I was sixteen, when I went with the son of Poseidon to receive the golden fleece. It was supposed to be me, Percy, and Annabeth. And grover, after we rescued him. Clarisse tagged along. I hadn’t spoken to her, not since Luke. Believe it or not, they were friends. Despite the bickering and arguing, they were close.

Talking to her again made it impossible to not think of him.

Then, there were the sirens. Despite my better judgment, I tied myself up with Annabeth to hear their song. The first thing I saw was Luke. Then I saw myself. The scrawny girl was long gone. In her place, a boy. A boy with dark hair and eyes that matched mine. He looked like the boys in my old pinterest boards, in the stories with the morally gray characters. He looked like me.

When Percy freed me from the ropes, and received Annabeth from the deep, which was horrifying. I asked Annabeth for her dagger. They were both horrified as the hair fell over the side of the boat, but as I ran my hand through my new hair, I smiled.

When I went back to camp with Grover and the golden fleece, I went back to the Hermes cabin. And I still slept in his bed, but I felt so much better because not only was I a different person, I was myself. I talked to Chiron, and got a proper chest binder and then everyone knew I was a boy.

I was still sixteen when My hair went from blonde, to brown, then to an inky black. The change in my hair was something I didn’t know how to feel about it. But it looked like me. And then, when I woke up from the nightmares of Luke, and I went outside to escape the restraints of his cabin, the grass died under my feet. I didn’t tell anyone.

Percy Jackson was fourteen when his mom drove Grover, Thalia, Annabeth, Percy, and I to a boarding school. Me and Thalia had become quick friends and her anger towards Luke made me feel so, so much better.

That was when I met two kids with the same dark eyes as me. I felt some uncanny urge to protect them. When the quest was put forward, I wanted to go. I didn’t. Not until a disheveled looking Percy Jackson found me that night.

Percy promised Nico something that I didn’t quite hear.

Percy Jackson Held up the sky. So did Annabeth Chase. And so did I.

The cosmos weighed nothing compared to having to tell that little boy his sister was dead. I held his hand, and he said it, not to me, but to percy.

“Where’s my sister?”

I hugged him tightly as Percy handed him the last thing his sister wanted him to have. And the ground split open underneath me.

As Nico ran, the dark blur over my head told both me, and Percy Jackson about my father.

#luke castellan x reader #Luke castellan x trans reader?#Percy Jackson #pjo x reader #Hades!reader #nico di angelo

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paddedlittleparadise · 5 months ago

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Renée's Absolutely Awful Summer (Patreon/Ream Tier 2 Teaser)

Hey, all! So I don't normally post teasers from the exclusive tier-2 content on my Patreon and Ream, but this one's an exception. Why not take a peek and see what horrible and totally realistic things have been happening to our adorable protagonist?

For the record, this multi-chapter story is meant as a satire on a particular kind of AB/DL story – not of any particular author! It's all meant in good fun :-)

–––

When Renée woke that Saturday morning in late May, she had no idea that it was going to be the first day of a very, very crazy summer.

"Wha-a?" She sat up in bed, blinking down in confusion at the strange sensation around her bottom. If she was any other young woman, she might have pulled back the covers to investigate what horrible, shameful secret might be there. But she wasn't just any other young woman – oh, no. She had already realized that she was the protagonist in a kinky AB/DL story… and that meant she had to stop everything. Blink meekly into the middle distance, as if into the hungry eyes of the readers. And wait for the omniscient narrator to explain exactly what an adorable, lust-worthy character she was.

You see (the omniscient narrator announced, in the most lovely, rumbly narrator voice imaginable) Renée was twenty-one years old and definitely, totally, legally an adult. This was absolutely true, despite the odd genetic tendencies that had stunted her growth and made her look no more than a mere sixteen. She had shoulder-length brown hair and brown bangs and brown eyes – and freckles, too, for good measure. Her bra size was 32A, her weight 111.5 pounds, her height four feet eleven inches, her shoe size 6W, her glasses prescription -3.00 -3.75, and her blood type A-positive. Her middle name was Dawn, her favorite color was lavender, the name of her favorite teacher was Ms. Stapleton, and the name of her first pet was Hank (the hamster). She was-

The narrator paused, realizing belatedly that he might have given too much information too quickly. Ahem, he announced, a trifle apologetically. That is to say, Renée was a super cute and super lust-worthy AB/DL protagonist. She was very short, you see, and her chest was flat as a teenage boy's. Oh, see those freckles? And those bangs? And did I mention how short she was? Again, totally legal and totally an adult! But yeah, she was pretty freaking ador-

Renée impatiently pulled back the covers at last, and the narrator mercifully shut up. But oh, the horror! For what was she looking at with those cute, wide brown eyes of her? Not just the faded fabric of her favorite pajama bottoms. Not even Jerry, the tattered stuffed iguana that she slept with every night, now lying flat on his back like roadkill. Oh, no. It was a

GIANT WET PATCH IN HER BED!!!

"Oh my gawd!" shrieked her mother, who had suddenly and illogically appeared in her room. "My big adult dawta just peed her bed! Whaddya hafta say for yourself, girl? Huh? HUH? You think it's funny, laying there and peeing yourself? I didn't think you was a frickin' baby no more, you know!"

The narrator began to interject with exposition – explaining something about how Renée's nameless mother was a stout, domineering, no-nonsense sort of parent – but his voice was drowned out as Renée's adorable little face crumpled immediately down into pathetic little wails. "I- I'm sorryy, Mom," she pleaded, blinking in chagrin down at the GIANT WET PATCH she was sitting in. "I didn't- I never-! I- hic! I never wet the bed be- hic! fore! Not even last semest- hic! -err…"

In case it wasn't obvious, Renée got the hiccups every time she was upset.

"Oh, be quiet!" Having put up with them for twenty-one years, her mother apparently found her daughter's hiccups anything but endearing. "Listen: I haven't the slightest reason why you might have developed a case of nocturnal enuresis during the last twenty-four hours. However, since I am stout, domineering, no-nonsense sort of parent, I have no intention of demonstrating paternal affection or ensuring that you receive proper medical attention. On the contrary, I firmly believe that my best course of action at this juncture will be to administer a painful, hopelessly outdated form of corporal punishment on a sensitive yet durable portion of your anatomy…"

–––

Oh, no! Whatever will happen to that cute protagonist's sensitive yet durable bottom?

If you want to find out more, why not check it – and lots of other stories – out over on Tier 2 of my Patreon or Ream?

#paddedlittleparadise #satire #ab dl girl #ab/dl stories #bed wetter

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likeadeuce · 4 months ago

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Challengers Fic, WIP Wednesday, Art and Tashi in their Friend Zone era

“I don’t want to get on a plane tomorrow and then never talk to you again,” Art said.

Tashi waited for the rest of it, the I know this is crazy and totally unexpected but if this is going to be our last night, what if we slept together, just for the beautiful memory.

She’d had the same conversation the night before she left high school for good, to play Juniors at the Aussie Open and train fulltime and home-school. With that guy, who didn’t matter, she’d barely had a hint he was interested that way before that night when he started kissing her -- and also she’d said yes because she was sixteen and a dumb virgin who was tired of being a dumb virgin. Compared to that guy Art might as well have had “stupid in love with Tashi Duncan” screenprinted on a T-shirt, and she’d indulged it and now she was going to have to say no and make both of them feel shitty.

“Come to Europe with me'" he said. Now that was crazy and totally unexpected. “After your exams. My folks rented a place in Mallorca for two weeks -- huge place, lots of room, and I’ll probably lose in the first round, and then Dad will want to take me deep sea fishing or something so we can be really masculine at each other and he can decide if he thinks I count as a person yet.”

“So I should ditch my plans and fly around the world to save you from the specter of male bonding. He shrugged, and she admitted, “Your mom already kind of invited me. When we were emailing about the photos for your slide show. Or, more like, she assumed I was coming, but possibly she thought I was your assistant.”

“Oh, Jesus,” he said. “See? Save me from having to be alone with these people. I’ll still mostly be training, and we can hit together, whatever you feel up to. Play some golf, go to the beach and eat olives and chorizo and -- what do they have? Flan? I can watch enviously while you eat the flan. Then we’re doing a few days of Wimbledon, I won’t make qualifiers yet but my agent and my marketing rep are supposed to introduce me around to industry people and you’ve definitely got a better head for all that than I do.”

Art had picked his agent and his marketing rep after a two hour phone call with Tashi’s father, who had been researching the best people to guide his baby girl since she was nine years old. Tashi was supposed to be on the call, too, but five minutes in, she fake-remembered a study group she couldn’t miss and went back to her room to take a few tequila shots and cry.

“You’d be doing me a favor,” Art said.

Tashi considered it for a moment. She really did. Sunshine and good food and the game she still wanted to love, sitting in the player’s box for a good-looking boy with a sky’s the limit future, sharing little jokes and secret looks and eventually, finally, falling into his bed because, Jesus, if he kept looking at her like that, she would forget all the reasons she knew that bed was a bad idea. Especially when the main reason was, simply, that he liked her too much.

“I would not be doing you a favor,” she said. “Because you know damn well what you’re talking about is girlfriend shit, and I’m not your girlfriend.”

She was ready for him to say No No No, that wasn't what he meant, they were friends, European beaches and shacking up with his family were just normal things friends did.

Instead, Art answered fast, with a broad grin that would let it be a joke if it had to be a joke. “Fortunately, that’s a fixable problem. Be my girlfriend.” For the first time in a long time, she saw the brash kid who had tried to get her number that night at the party, to hell if someone else wanted it, he had just as good a claim as anyone, and tonight it was even true. National champion with a face TV cameras would love and a body to kill for, and world number one in Being There for Tashi Duncan and never complaining about the Friend Zone of it all.

Art couldn’t keep up the bravado long enough for her to say no. His grin froze, then crumbled and he looked at the ground. “You don’t have to say it, Tashi. But I figured I needed to try.”

“If it helps at all, even if it weren’t for everything else --” She swallowed. “I couldn’t take being around all that tennis right now.”

#Wip Wednesday #Late because tumblr was broken Wednesday #Challengers #Art Donaldson #Tashi Duncan #More friend zone era #challengers fanfic #fanfic

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bluedalahorse · 3 months ago

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sargust canon divergence

Here’s the “what if” idea that popped into my brain last night. Content warning for misogynistic fraternity antics on the part of Erik and the third years.

It’s set during August’s first year and Erik’s third. The way I envision the relational aggression in their relationship is not an “Erik and his friends shove August into lockers and call him names” type deal. More of a “you’re a first year we let hang with us at a lot of our activities, you’re the butt of all our jokes and when you visibly react we tell you to calm down bro we’re just joking we’re just bonding calm down, and also we occasionally are nice to you you so you’re hopeful about that but also constantly on edge about which version of us you’re going to get.” (For what it’s worth, this is pretty much how I envision their relationship playing out in canon, and then later August told himself that yeah, the jokes were just jokes and actually he was overreacting and he had a great time with Erik, just sort of focusing on their positive moments and downplaying the negative ones for the sake of psychological survival in second and third year. Only when the stuff about the initiations breaks in third year, and then when he rereads his old letter, does he realize he lied to himself about it. But what can I say, I am fascinated by stories where memory is the monster.)

Anyway it’s August’s first year, and Erik finds out that August hasn’t slept with a girl yet, and the guys are like, in his business about it in a gross way but also “just joking.”

Meanwhile things are peak horrible at the Eriksson household. Linda and Micke are in the middle of divorcing, or have just divorced and things are really rocky. Sara’s about to turn sixteen and will turn sixteen over the course of the fic. She and Simon are hiding out with Rosh and Ayub a lot, but Sara feels like the fourth wheel and like Rosh and Ayub mainly only put up with her because they’re friends with Simon. She’s convinced she’s a burden on her family and if she’s out of the house, she’ll make things a lot better. It’s where she was in 1.6 in canon, but dialed up because she’s even younger and the Micke-Linda divorce stuff is currently Happening.

So one day Sara cuts school (she’s been cutting a lot anyway) and takes the bus to Hillerska, dressed as nice as she can manage. She has plans to find someone official (but no appointment ahead of time, this is a half-baked teenage impulsive plan after all) and meet with them about wanting to board at the school. She’s mentally scripted a lot for that, and has her Mask very much On. But then she gets onto campus and things aren’t quite as she expects, so her plans start slipping away from her.

At some point she’s found by Erik’s friends and Erik, who answer some of her questions about the school in that way where they make fun of her by pretending to be genuine but actually just being shitty. And they start to reference some party they’re having later and they say she can come if she wants (Sara’s danger alarms are going off but also no one’s invited her to a party before and also she’s trying to be polite and not offend anyone because she studied upper class etiquette for this trip to Hillerska, so she’s mentally scrambling for how to manage this situation of being paid attention to) which essentially leads to them luring her out to the palatset (wait, isn’t saying “the palatset” redundant?) and locking her in a closet.

A few hours later, the guys (like the Society or the rowing guys are something) are having a palatset gathering, and August is there pouring the drinks or whatever and kind of being included but also kind of not, and they’re like “hey bro hey, hey, you are gonna be so grateful because you know how you’re still a virgin? well. we found you a girl. she’s from town so it’s low pressure, low commitment. say thank you.” And they push August into the closet where they’ve been hiding Sara this whole time, and the two of them are face to face.

Sara and August are both, understandably, a little shell-shocked by the situation. They are also younger and their respective traumas are even closer to the surface than they are in the main canon timeline. Naturally the situation is scary and they do not hook up. Sara says she’s bad at lying, but she’ll lie and say they had sex if August owes her something later. And they make a deal on it.

Which begins a series of secret conversations and odd little meetups? Sara doesn’t think Hillerska is the way out of her problems anymore, but she’s still thinking about schools she can transfer to, and August’s mother went to all-girls’ schools abroad and maybe he can help her with that? And, you know. Gradually they open up to one another. About shitty dads. About feeling like their moms let them down. About the crushing weight of loneliness even when surrounded by people. It’s an extremely slow burn toward the romance of it all, but that’s happening too on the backburner.

This all culminates in the two of them having a shitty enough week at the same time that they decide the only solution is to run away together for a bit, and not tell anyone where they’re going. (More impulsive half-baked teenage decisions because this is the YR universe.) Sara and August go to Årnäs, because August’s mom isn’t living there at present, she’s in Rickard’s penthouse or whatever. And part of Årnäs is like, normal, but there’s parts of it that are in need of renovation and rotting to pieces. Also the electricity has been cut off to save money (unless electricity is fully subsidized in Sweden, in which case scratch that.) So it becomes this sort of haunted gothic camping experience for a bit.

Eventually someone (probably August) puts their foot through a rotten floorboard and fucks up their ankle. Probably Sara kisses August for the first time after bandaging him up, shut up it’s fanfic and I do what I want. But I guess they’ll have to give in and call the adults in their life at this point. Well, maybe after 24 hours or so. Which then propels us toward whatever I decide the denouement is. I feel like Sara and August will probably be in a situation where they can’t be together because I’m an angst monster, but then I can flash forward to a brief scene of them seeing one another across the room as adults, because I’m also doing something different than canon.

I’m sad that Felice wouldn’t be at Hillerska yet in this fic, so I am going to make it so she has a cooking vlog on social media that Sara watches for comfort, and occasionally they talk in the comments.

Presumably I will find a way to make Erik complex enough. I mean, this is when he’s meeting with Boris, after all. I owe him some kind of complexity.

Simon and Sara’s relationship will be different, and complicated in a different way than it is in canon. They still love each other a lot, but I think there’d still be conflict between them in this universe that they’d have to resolve.

Idk what Wilhelm is doing in this fic, but I am intrigued that he’d be firmly in his “look mom, this is why I would prefer to go to public school in the city” era and I wonder how I can work with that.

Sorry that was a whole ass 2012 angsty YA contemporary romance. I just needed to get it out of my system before I move on to other stuff for the day.

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

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HERE, KITTY, KITTY (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Aizawa x Black!Catgirl!Reader

Synopsis: In which you find yourself in the weirdest predicament after you’re scooped up and taken to a cat cafe after you decide to take the streets to fight some crime, and you’re adopted by your very anti-social and hot coworker Aizawa aka Eraserhead.

Story Warnings: Smutty smut, 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY), Swearing, Adult!Reader, Ear and Tail Stroking, Light Degradation, Spanking, Exhibitionism, Multiple Positions, Creampie, Unprotected PIV Sex, Facial, Scent Play, Collaring, Deepthroat, Cunnilingus, Begging, Edgeplay, Power Play, Rope Play/Shibari, Master Kink, Some Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Some Action

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: I'm gonna try to finish this fic before the end of June cuz I'm gonna be soooo busy with my summer job & packing for my cruise. BUT we'll see! Stay safe! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

Other Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-One. Twenty-Two. Twenty-Three. Twenty-Four. Twenty-Five.

*********

SEVENTEEN.

As you walk down the hallway to UA one Monday morning, you have a pep in your step and a sway in your hips that is only accomplished by good sex.

It is the Monday right after the weekend and you are 100% ready to see Aizawa today.

You didn’t get a chance to see him on Sunday due to your schedules for the day not matching up, but he did text you and specifically stated that this weekend was the best he’s ever had with you. His words had you blushing and biting your lip like a schoolgirl with a crush.

And you did have a crush on Aizawa. Bad. You couldn’t get what transpired between you last weekend out of your head, let alone how it made you feel.

The sex flashbacks that randomly pop up throughout your day have you squeezing your thighs together and fanning yourself when no one is watching. You desperately wanted to call Aizawa over Sunday for a bit of privacy before getting back into the swing of work, but you knew better than to do that. He needed his time to relax with his daughter, after all.

Which is why you visited him last night in your cat form, which has become a usual occurrence now. He was happy to see you as usual and let you snuggle with Eri on the couch while he whipped up dinner in the form of spicy ramen.

“I want you to eat all of it because you begged me to make it,” he told Eri as she excitedly took her bowl to the couch, making you giggle on the inside.

The Sunday night went on peacefully, ending with Eri taking a bath as you watched her from the floor, bursting over how cute she looked singing Disney songs as she scrubbed behind her ears and tossed you balls from the water to play with. Y

ou had cuddled with her for a while as she slept hours later in her bed before moving to the living room and sleeping at Aizawa’s feet as he slumbered on the couch. You were beginning to feel like you belonged with the duo.

Like one happy little family.

When you walk through the first floor of UA towards the elevators, it is impossible for others to not see the confidence radiating off of you. Though you’ve always felt good in your clothes, everything on you seems to feel much better today.

The pretty, rose-colored dress you chose for today’s outfit feels amazing on your skin and body. The flats on your feet seem sexy to you. The soft makeup and hairstyle you styled at six in the morning today make you feel just like a model.

To you, you are the sexiest woman to walk the earth, and you have only one person to thank for making you feel like this. When you press the button for the elevator to take you up to the sixth floor, you don’t expect to come face to face with the same man who has been invading your dreams this weekend so early in the morning.

The man looks damn good. Even in his tracksuit and scarves which are his regular attire, he looks good. He stands tall with his shoulders back and a confident aura radiating off of him despite how tired he looks.

“Oh, Mr. Aizawa!” you cheerfully greet him, your heart leaping at the sight of him. “Good morning!” When his charcoal eyes land on you, they widen an inch and they only boost your confidence even more. ‘That’s it. Look at me.’

His pink tongue jets out to quick wet his pillowy-soft lips, sending your mind careening to things unholy. “Good morning, Ms. L/N,” he replies, your last name sounding like sex on his lips. Only you hear the low growl in them and it makes you hot.

Unfortunately, you can’t flirt with him as much as you want to or pounce on him as soon as the elevator doors close because one of the janitors is in there too. “Good morning, Mr. Tokoma,” you sweetly say despite your pussy weeping in disappointment.

“Good morning!” the older man replies, tipping his janitor’s hat at you. “Don’t mind the vacuum. She won’t bite ya.”

He shimmies to the left of the elevator cart with his vacuum, making room for you. You thank him and enter the elevator. After finding the sixth-floor button to already be lit, you shimmy behind the janitor to take Aizawa’s side.

When the elevator doors close, the air is tense and thick with a desire that only you and Aizawa can feel. Feeling him next to you and constantly breathing in his cologne is driving you insane.

Though Mr. Tokoma has no idea about your building horniness, you wished to God that he never decided to take the elevator this morning. It takes everything in you to not reach for Aizawa just to feel him, but you keep your hands firmly at your sides.

Aizawa, in contrast, doesn’t. When you suddenly feel his hand brushing against your tail, you nearly gasp. Though his touch is soft and slow, it sends every nerve in your tail into a frenzy. You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning as he slides his hand from the base to the tip, gliding his fingers across the soft fur.

He is then behind you, as quiet as a church mouse. He barely makes a sound as his fingers leave your tail and begin to lightly trail up your thigh.

Mr. Tokoma sighs, wiping the back of his neck. “Thank goodness for the AC,” he sighs, popping the collar to his janitor uniform. “Warm outside today.” Aizawa’s fingers sneak up your dress to your inner thighs, prying them open. It is just enough to brush against the outside of your panties.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter out. “Very…very…hot.”

Aizawa softly chortles at you losing your shit as he begins to gently stroke you through your panties right in the elevator. If Mr. Tokoma were to turn even slightly to the right, he would be able to see this unfold for himself. Aizawa continues to nudge at your clit with his fingers, making your toes curl in your shoes as sparks of pleasure shoot through your core.

“Might wanna relax yourself, kitty,” he whispers into your ear, low enough so only you can hear. “You might catch some eyes.”

And then his fingers are sneaking under your panties to press against your naked pussy lips. You gasp but mask it with a yawn as his fingers dip in and out of your pussy, slow and teasing. You could kill him for this shit but dammit, it feels good!

When the elevator dings for the third floor, you jump and instinctively clamp your thighs together, causing Aizawa’s fingers to become trapped between your inner thighs. “This is me,” the janitor says, giving you both a friendly smile, not even noticing Aizawa’s fingers playing under your dress. “Have a good day, you two!”

“You too, Mr. Tokoma,” Aizawa says, and you plaster on a smile as the elevator doors begin to close.

Finally, it’s only you two left, much to Aizawa’s liking. As soon as you’re left alone, he’s ripping his hand from under your dress and pouncing onto you like a jaguar finally let out of his cage. He swiftly pushes you against the wall and traps you between himself and the wall before pressing a toe-curling kiss onto your waiting lips.

You moan appreciatively into the kiss, dropping your bag to the floor and throwing your arms around him. He presses his hips snuggly against your groin and begins to grind into you, giving you a taste of his hardening dick. With every roll of his hips, he grinds against your clit, making your body shiver and shudder in pleasure. He pulls away from you and slams a hand against the wall above you, still grinding down into your clit like he’s trying hard to make you both cum.

“S-Shouta, baby,” you gasp, your hands grasping his shoulders. “Wait…someone could come in and–oh, fuck!”

He suddenly rolls his hips to the right, brushing against a spot of your clit that makes you see stars. “Just keep your voice down,” he whispers against your lips. “No one takes the elevators this early in the morning. I’ll make sure of it.”

Before you can respond, he’s leaning over to jam on the button to pause the elevator ride. The elevator suddenly stops moving, leaving the two of you to do as you please. Aizawa’s attention is all on you now. He hikes your leg up on his hip and continues to grind his dick against you, becoming harder by the second.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he growls into your neck. “You’re all I fuckin’ think about now. Can’t even focus on work because of you.” You whine in desperation as you feel the pleasure building. You can’t believe this is happening in an elevator at work. It’s so wrong, yet it feels so, so right.

Suddenly, Aizawa pulls away and stares dead into your eyes as his fingers fumble for the zipper of his tracksuit. He yanks it down, revealing the wifebeater underneath that is tight on his upper torso and briefs that are even tighter on his hard, throbbing cock. “Look at me,” he says, his voice strained with need. “This is what you do to me.”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock and you find yourself salivating for it. You’re fiending for him and his cum. You don’t care how you get it. You just want it now.

Quickly, you drop to your knees in front of him and go for his briefs. “What are you doing?” he asks, mortified, quickly pushing your hands away. “No, no, Y/N, don’t.”

“Shhh,” you shush him, staring up at him with a sexy smirk. “Just keep your voice down. Nobody is takin’ the elevator this early, right?”

He doesn’t stop you as you pull down the band to his briefs, freeing his hard dick for your enjoyment, but he doesn’t look particularly glad about this. “I don’t–fuck!”

His sentence is cut off with a long moan as you wrap your hand around his cock and begin slowly stroking him. You spit a generous amount of saliva onto his shaft, loving the way it shines as you stroke it over his dick. Once he is generously lubed up, you wrap your lips around him and begin to softly suck him off. “I’ve been missin’ this dick in my face,” you moan, continuing to swirl your tongue around his swollen cockhead.

You treat him like your personal lollipop, loving the taste of him. You don’t tease him for too long, worried you’re running out of time. So you begin to take him into your throat, making sure to open your throat and breathe through your nostrils as you give him neck. He is loving it.

Labored breaths and soft moans leave his lips as you give him throat, gagging all over his cock. “Oh, my God, Y/N,” he groans, his gorgeous eyes rolling to the ceiling. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this.”

The praise eggs you on and you go faster, desperate to get him to that point of no return. No matter how much your knees ache and your throat burns, you continue to deepthroat him, stroking him in time with your sucking and head bobbing. Saliva drips down your chin and his heavy balls, creating small pools on the elevator floor by your knees.

You can tell Aizawa is getting close when he begins to grip your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth. You welcome it, stretching your mouth out wider. “Just like that,” he huffs out, gripping your hair tighter. “Just like that, kitty, and I’mma cum. Keep goin’...so close…”

You hum in encouragement, bobbing faster and faster, the wet sounds of his thick cock stroking your throat getting louder. You want him to cum deep down your throat. You want to taste all of him. His hips begin to slam against your mouth as he chases his orgasm, his grunts and moans growing more urgent.

“Cumming!” he grunts out. “I’m cumming! Take all of it, kitty!”

And you do. Once he lets out a low moan of your name and bursts in your mouth, you take every single ounce down his throat. You don’t have a choice. His head firmly holds you there on his dick, forcing you to take every single pump of his creamy nut down your throat. But you gladly swallow what you can down despite his dick still in your mouth.

When he finally finishes, he releases you with a soft groan and composes himself while you begin to clean yourself up. You swallow the rest of his cum before licking your bottom lip where some of his nut dripped.

“That was amazing,” he sighs, smiling down at you as he puts his dick, wet with your spit, back in his briefs. You giggle at him, happy with the praise and feeling just as satisfied as him despite your soaked panties.

You don’t have much time for kissing and aftercare, especially when the elevator begins to move again. You gasp, quickly rising from your kneeling position while Aizawa goes to press the button again. But it’s too late. The elevator dings, signaling the arrival of a new floor.

“Oh, shit!” Aizawa gasps as the elevator doors abruptly open. You immediately jump away from him and attempt to wipe your mouth of any essence of Aizawa’s cum.

The doors open to reveal a very cheerful Mic holding a cup of coffee. “Hey, guys!” he greets as he walks into the elevator, oblivious to what just transpired between you.

He shimmies between the two of you, not at all noticing Aizawa zip his tracksuit and you give your hair. “You guys try the new oat-milk latte they opened at the coffee bar?” he asks. “It’s amazing!”

You clear your throat and sneakily pull down your dress to avoid flashing your friend. “No,” you breathlessly answer. “I’ll have to try it though. I do like a good dose of milk in the morning.”

Aizawa side-eyes you, and you have to cover your mouth to keep from giggling.

*********

You’ve never seen a child be so excited over plushies the way Eri is.

You’ve been watching the girl run around the arcade for the past twenty minutes now, going from one crane game to the next. She tends to gravitate toward those who hold anime plushies and stuffed animals, begging Aizawa to cough up more money for tickets.

“Pleeease, Daddy?” she whines to him now, giving him big, puppy dog eyes. “Just one more crane game and I’ll go play something else!”

Aizawa isn’t phased. He stares down at her with a tired expression on his face. “You said that twenty minutes ago and so far we’ve played six crane games.”

“But we haven’t won anything!” the little girl whines, fiddling with her yellow sundress that matches the hairbands in her pigtails. She looks so darn cute! You couldn’t help but gush over her when Aizawa picked her up for your lunch date today during the break.

“I promise I’ll go play Luigi’s Haunted House or one of the PacMan games next time!” she continues to bargain. “I just want the Hello Kitty! Look, she’s in All Might's outfit!” She turns to point at the Hello Kitty cosplay plushie behind the glass box of the crane game she’s got her eyes set on.

“You used up all your tickets, Eri,” Aizawa sighs, hands on his hips. “How are you gonna play if you don’t have any tickets? And we still need to eat.”

Eri just continued to whine and bargain with her dad, making you feel just as exhausted as Aizawa feels even though you’re just sitting at a nearby table with your club soda.

Aizawa had told you he had a feeling that Eri would lose her mind in an arcade, even opting to just take you for ice cream or to Koa’s Purr Palace for lunch. However, Eri had insisted on the arcade and you agreed, wanting to spend some time with the both of them out of your cat form for a change.

So far, it’s been fun watching Eri be the cutest little kid ever and Aizawa try to tame her chaotic self, but now you feel bad for the single dad. He’s obviously tired from watching over the UA crew all day during classes.

Deciding to give him a break, you stand from your seat and walk over to the adorable duo. “Hey, Eri,” you say, bending down at eye level to the little girl. “Why don’t we give your dad a break and I try this time?” You begin to pull out your wallet from your tote bag.

Eri’s eyes light up like Christmas trees as you do. “Really?!” she squeals excitedly, stomping her light-up sneakers around. You nod and slip her $10 for ten tickets.

“Go on over to the front desk and get ten tickets for us,” you whisper to her with a wink. “I promise I’ll getcha that Hello Kitty plushie. Then we can play some PacMan.”

You’ve never seen a kid look so happy before. Eri’s smile is contagious as she throws herself at you, wrapping her little arms around you tight. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Ms. L/N!” she cheers before racing over to the front desk, her pigtails flopping about.

When you stand up, feeling good about yourself, Aizawa sneaks an arm around your waist. “You know you didn’t have to do that,” he sighs, sounding guilty. “That was your money. I wanted to treat you today.”

You twist around to face him and throw your arms around his neck. “You can treat me to pizza and sodas once I win this plushie for her,” you giggle. “Plus, I wanted to get her out of your hair. You looked like you wanted to stuff her in one of those crane machines.”

Aizawa smirks humorously at your dark humor. “She’s just excited. I don’t think I’ve ever brought her to an arcade before.” He looks incredibly guilty about this which breaks your heart. You hope he knows that he is a good dad.

Everyone who knows about Eri can see it, including you. He is attentive, loving, and nurturing while also stern–all of what a great father should be. It’s enough to make you almost want to have a baby with him too…almost. Or maybe that’s just your breeding kink speaking to you.

“Thanks a lot for accommodating,” he says, pecking your chin. “I know that this isn’t the ideal lunch we had in mind for today.”

He had wanted to take you out to a cafe for lunch today, one where he could count on you having privacy. However, Mirio having track practice and Shinso needing to study for a test meant Eri needed to be watched after.

“It is for me,” you coo. “I love spendin’ time with you two. I wouldn’t want to spend my break any other way.” And you mean that from the very bottom of your heart.

Aizawa’s gaze darkens, filling with something less than kind as he grips you to him. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ll knock a screw loose in that bathroom over there,” he growls into your ear. His eyes flick across the arcade to the women’s bathroom. “You know I’d do it too.”

You nearly choke on a gasp as you feel his hand sneak to your ass. “And leave your daughter alone out here?” you gasp with laughter to hide your arousal. “What kind of father are you?”

Aizawa opens his luscious mouth, no doubt to say something dirty, but Eri’s sudden appearance makes him stop and tear his hand away from your butt.

“I’ve got the tickets, Ms. L/N!” she excitedly announces. She waves the string of gold tickets around and you applaud her. “Alright then, let’s go!”

You take her hand and walk over to the crane machine where the Hello Kitty plush among other cute plushies lies in wait. “I’m gonna need all of your power to help me with this, okay?” you tell Eri as you push the ticket into the slot. She vigorously nods and squeezes your hand while Aizawa chortles behind you, adoring this scene.

The crane machine comes to life, lighting up and playing music. You bend down towards the controller and grip it, your eyes set dead on the metal claw hanging above the plushies. You move the claw to the far back and slightly to the left, hovering right over the Hello Kitty plushie’s head. Your eyes flick toward its arm, noticing that it’s sticking out. Slowly and methodically, you lower the claw towards the hand and press the button to lower it down.

When the claw snags the plushie’s arm, you feel your heart leap. “You’ve almost got it, Ms. L/N!” Eri encouragingly shouts. “C’mon, you can do it! I believe in you!” She squeezes your hand for dear life, nearly crushing your fingers.

With your other hand on the controller, you carefully move the claw holding the plushie toward the opening that leads to a hole in the machine. The plushie doesn’t slip an inch during its travel. Once you’re above the opening, you press the button to open the claw and release the plushie down into the hole.

“I’ve got it!” you shout, just as excited as Eri. The squeal she lets out could break windows. You retrieve the soft Hello Kitty plushie for her and she hugs it close, squeezing it to her tiny body.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she shouts, wrapping her arms around your waist. You bend down to hug her back, adoration flooding inside of you. “Alright, alright,” Aizawa chuckles, settling her down. “Now let’s get some victory lunch.”

Several minutes later, you and Aizawa sit at your table with two big slices of pizza and iced Cokes for lunch that he paid for (he refused to take your money). Eri already gobbled her hotdog down and is currently playing one of those driving games. Aizawa had to pick her up and place her in one of the cars because she was too short to get in one. She sits in a pink car now with her plushie, giggling as she steers the wheel this way and that.

“Thanks a lot for gettin’ her that plushie,” Aizawa says appreciatively. You wave him off as you chomp down on your pizza. “It’s the least I could do after earlier,” you reply.

You flush at the memory; mostly because you still feel the ache in your knees from kneeling at Aizawa’s feet as you sucked him off in the elevator. “Did Mic suspect anything?” you timidly ask. “Y’know…about us?”

Aizawa flicks his eyes towards you as he sips his Cofe. “Oh, he knows already,” he replies as if you just asked if the sky is blue. “There’s no way he couldn’t know, but he won’t flap his gums if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He sighs, looking like he’s dreading something. “He’ll tease me about to hell and back though,” he mutters to himself. You giggle, picturing Mic making kissy faces at Aizawa.

“That was absolutely amazing, by the way,” he says, lowering his voice so only you can hear the need within his words. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about your pretty mouth today.”

You flush in your clothes and force yourself to clamp your thighs together. You do not need to be getting horny surrounded by children.

You couldn’t stop thinking about earlier either. You’ve never done something like that in an elevator before, and the idea of getting caught turned you on more than you realized. Maybe it’s the man sitting across from you bringing the freak out of you.

You smile at Aizawa, using your foot to nudge at his leg. The urge to touch him, feel him, is burning within you. But as you do, you notice the dark circles under his eyes and the way he yawns into his fist. You’re just now noticing how drained he looks. “You look so tired,” you worriedly point out. “Is everything okay with work?”

He passively shrugs at your worry. “As okay as grading papers and teaching classes back to back can go.”

He takes your hand in his across the table, birthing butterflies in your stomach. “Did you maybe wanna come over tonight if you have time?” you ask, brushing your fingers over his knuckles. “You don’t have to stay, but maybe I could give you a nice massage to ease your stress.”

“Fuck, you’re too sweet,” he groans. “I’d love to, but I’m afraid the police chief needs me for a mission tonight.”

At this, you sit up a little straighter, your ears straight up at attention. He heaves a sigh, pushing his half-eaten pizza away. “I wasn’t planning on telling you this because I didn’t want you to worry, but a new villain hit the streets. He’s more underground so it’s been kept under wraps, but his quirk is worrying the police department.”

“What’s his quirk?” you wonder aloud, picking your own meal up from your paper plate.

“They’ve dubbed it ‘transparency’,” Aizawa explains as you chomp on your pizza. “He can walk through walls and any kind of solid matter, including floors and the ground. He’s been poppin’ up over the past couple of months committing petty crime, but lately, he’s been committing serious felonies as paid hits, like assaulting and killing white-collar folks in the wealthier side of Musutafu. They keep a lot of that shit hush-hush though.” He pauses, sipping his Coke.

“So why do they want you to catch him?” you curiously ask.

“Because they trust me and know I’ve had experience with underground villains.” He shrugs. “It’s a blessing and a curse. Tonight, they suspect that he’ll show up downtown at an opera show because most of the city’s white-collar folks and elite congregate down there.”

You pause, picturing him sitting among the rich folk in their seats, his eyes skimming over the audience shrouded in darkness for his target. “So they want you to go to the opera tonight?”

Aizawa nods, not looking too happy about it. “With a suit and everything to blend in. They’re also giving me an earpiece to contact the police department, but I’m used to that.”

You stare at him, picturing him in a nice suit and kicking ass all alone. The thought makes you feel almost sad rather than aroused. He notices and raises a brow at you. “What?” he asks, staring blankly at you.

You begin to play with his fingers, adverting your eyes from his. “So you’re going alone?” you ask worriedly. “No one is going with you?”

“No, but I’m fine, kitty,” he assures you. “You don’t have to worry about someone like me.” You still stare down at his hands, noticing the brush of healed cuts and bruises on his knuckles.

“What’s with the face?” he asks, laughter in his tone. You pull away from his hands to take a drink and begin to silently fumble with your straw, trying to think of a good way to ask him to let you come with him tonight as backup.

He seems to already know what you’re thinking though. “Uh-uh,” he firmly says. “No. You better not be thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’, Y/N.” You look up at him, the brat in you taking the driver’s seat. “And what is that, Shouta?” you innocently ask.

His expression is fixed and hard, not up for the BS from you. “You’re not coming with me to the opera. Not a chance in hell. This is a me job.”

You roll your eyes at his pride. “C’mon, don’t go Bruce Wayne on me again,” you whine in protest. “I’ve shown you how good of a fighter I am time and time again, Shouta. I’m great backup!”

He still looks resistant, his eyebrows knitted together in a permanent scowl. “That, you are, but this is some serious shit, Y/N. Underground villains are way more sneakier which makes them extremely dangerous and high-risk.”

You cut your eyes at him, feeling irked by his attempt to sway your decision. “You think I can’t handle it?” you scoff, irked by the way he’s making you feel. “You think I’ll distract you?”

The stare Aizawa fixes you with curbs your attitude somewhat, but you can’t help but feel like a little kid he’s lecturing. You don’t need that shit. You’re a grown-ass woman! “You know I don’t think that,” he firmly says, “but you’re not actually a seasoned or official hero either.”

As right as he is about that (which you hate), you’re also the most stubborn bitch in the world. You won’t go down with a fight. So you push your food away and fold your hands under your chin, prepared for an argument.

“Shouta, I literally helped you take down two villains with guns trying to stick up an art exhibit with no problem. I think I can handle this.” You give him a reassuring smile that doesn’t thaw the ice encased in his eyes.

“I’m not gonna get in your way or distract you from your mission, but you’ll need another set of eyes and hands–and, honey, I’ve got two of the best ones.”

You flex your hand where your claws extend from your nails. You don’t even mention your heightened senses, which you’re sure he knows about and has taken into consideration.

“Plus, this would be the perfect time for me to learn how to be more of an effective hero. You could teach me all about how to conduct myself on a mission!”

Your words register across Aizawa’s handsome face, but he still looks hesitant. You know it’s for your protection more than anything. You take his hands in yours once more and press a kiss to them.

“You always want to protect other people,” you softly say, “but, Sho, who’s gonna protect you?” He doesn’t respond. He simply stares at your hands in his, thinking to himself.

“Just for tonight, Sho,” you promise. “That’s all I ask.”

Finally, his eyes meet yours and you can see his defeat. He sighs, running a hand down his face. “God, damn you for bein’ so cute,” he groans exhaustedly. “Alright, fine, but you’d better know what you’re in for.”

You grin excitedly to yourself, feeling accomplished. You couldn’t have asked for a better end to your lunch date.

**********

That night, after a pep talk in the mirror and some mental preparation for tonight, you leave your dorm to go see Aizawa.

You decide not to sneak out your window in your cat form, instead simply walking out of the faculty dorms with a duffle bag full of tonight’s attire. If anyone asks, you’re just going to Planet Fitness because they have more equipment.

Just a little white lie to accommodate why you’re sneaking out so late at night in nothing but Nike gear and sneakers.

You don’t walk out the doors immediately. You take some time to assess your environment and tap into your senses. You don’t hear or sense anyone coming, even after ten minutes of waiting.

With labored breath, you quickly make your way out of the lobby and outside to walk across campus, your heart pounding against your chest.

You’re just about to cross the threshold to the street when you’re spotted. “Stop right there!” a voice shouts from behind you.

You jump, causing your tail to poof up and your ears to shoot back as you’re startled. When you turn around, prepared to scratch the stranger in the first if necessary, you find that it isn’t a stranger at all. It’s Nemuri in her silk nightgown and slippers with Mic right behind her.

“Nemuri?” you question, squinting at her in confusion. “What are you doing out here so late at night?

Nemuri puts her hands on her slim hips, glaring at you like an angry mom. “You know, that line is really meant for you, but I already know what you’re doing. Don’t you think you’re going too far with this, Y/N?”

You grip the strap to your gym back to you, biting your lip. ‘Just ask natural,’ you think. ‘Don’t tell them shit.’

“What do you mean?” you dumbly ask. Nemuri rolls her eyes, obviously not here for your innocent act, but Mic puts a hand on her arm to stop her from telling you off.

He steps forward, taking his glasses off to give you a closer look at his concern. “We’ve been meaning to talk to you, Y/N,” he carefully says. “Nemuri and I both agree that this nightly activity has run its course.”

Understanding his words, you are filled with sudden, hot anger. “You’ve been talking about me behind my back?” you hiss, irate. Mic blushes at your rage, caught like a deer in headlights.

“Y/N, we’re just worried!” Nemuri exclaims, exasperated. “Look at you! You’re covered in bruises, we barely see you anymore, you’re taking off from work more and more, and not to mention you’re seeing Aizawa now.”

You flush with embarrassment and shame under the moonlight, feeling like its silvery rays serve as a spotlight for you. “You still haven’t told him yet, have you?” Nemuri questions. “About this cat thing?”

The sudden urge to cry bursts behind your sinuses. You don’t need this right now. You don’t need to be here getting lectured and criticized like a child.

“Look, I’m trying, okay?” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose to avoid crying. “But it’s kind of hard to tell the man you’ve been pinning after, who also likes you back, that you’ve been sneaking into his dorm pretending to be the cat he adopted for his adorable daughter so she’d be less lonely.”

Nemuri and Mic silently share a look of confusion. “Wait…what?” Nemuri asks, utterly confused. “We’re talking about you being Night Claw. What are you talking about?”

Your eyes widen as the realization that you epicly fucked up hits you like an Amtrack train. “Shit,” you hiss, facepalming yourself.

Nemuri stares at you like she barely knows you anymore. “Have you been using your cat form to visit Aizawa ever since the night he adopted you?” she asks, shocked. “Does Aizawa know you’re Night Claw already?”

Mic looks between you both, clueless. “Wait, what happened?” he asks, lost. He stares at you, dumbfounded. “You can turn into a cat?!” he shockingly exclaims, gaping at you.

You keep quiet, shaking slightly like a leaf in the winter because you’ve been caught in your lie. Nemuri fixes you with a hard, laser-like stare that peels back the mental armor you’ve been shielding yourself with for months. “Y/N, you’d better start talking now.”

You growl to yourself, your shame winning over your pride. “Okay, okay!” you defeatedly shout. “Yes, he knows that I’m Night Claw and he was fine with it. And yes, I’m able to transform into a cat and I’ve been using it to my advantage when I’m out in the streets. One night, I got hurt and was picked up by this old lady who took me to her cat cafe.”

“The Purr Palace?” Mic asks, squinting quizzically at you. “That’s Eri’s favorite place.”

You slowly nod, staring down at your Nike kicks. “One day, Aizawa came in with Eri and he adopted me. I swear, it was only supposed to be one time and I was gonna tell Aizawa the truth, but…”

You trail off as teas begin to well in your eyes. God, you’re so fucking stupid.

“But what?” Nemuri pushes.

You huff, roughly wiping at your eyes. “Things got complicated,” you confess. “I saw how happy I was making them and felt obligated to continue to role-play as their pet. Then Aizawa finally started talking to me and I knew if I told him the truth about the cat thing, he’d never talk to me again.”

Nemuri curtly laughs at your confession which isn’t at all the reaction you thought she would have. “So this is all about you, right?” she scoffs, looking almost disgusted by you. “You’re keeping this from Aizawa because he wanna keep him.”

“No!” you shout, then weakly backtrack. “I-I mean, yes, but this is about his happiness more than anything. I just want to keep him and Eri happy!”

“By lying to them?” Nemuri demands. “I’ll admit, initially keeping the Night Claw thing a secret was sexy and mysterious until I saw how it was affecting you. But now I see that this wasn’t the case at all.”

She crosses her arms over her ample bosom, fixing you with a disappointed stare that makes you grow even hotter with shame. “It’s bad enough you’re lying to Aizawa about the cat thing, but lying to Eri too? She’s just a child, Y/N! A very lonely and vulnerable one at that!”

Anger starts to mix with the shame you feel, making one very bad cocktail. You glare daggers at Nemuri, pissed that she’s lecturing you over something you already know is pretty fucked up. “Okay, ladies,” Mic weakly says, moving to step between you. “Why don’t we just–”

“Don’t you think I know that?” you bellow angrily at your friend. “That’s why I’m doing this. Aizawa adopted me so I could keep Eri company. It’s my job now, Nemuri!”

“No, it’s not!” she angrily argues. “Your job is to tell Aizawa the truth. And if it’s not you, then it will be me.”

You gape at her, trying to decide if she’s deadass serious or not. “You wouldn’t,” you growl. But her intense stare says everything you need to know. She means this shit with her whole chest. “Try me,” she sternly replies.

The white-hot anger takes over your body, causing you to not see Nemuri as a friend but as an enemy. And when it comes to enemies, cats only do one thing to keep them at bay: they hiss.

And so when the urge to hiss comes, you let it come and burst out of you, shocking Nemuri and Mic as soon as the harsh sound comes out of your mouth. Nemuri gapes at you, astounded. “You…did you just…you just hissed at me!” she gasps, shocked at your behavior.

You close your mouth and advert your eyes from hers, refusing to see the disappointment in them. “You know what?” she scoffs. “Fine. Go ahead and lie to yourself all you want, but when Aizawa finally discovers the truth and dumps you on your ass, don’t come crying to me about it later.”

And with those harsh words hanging in the air, she turns around and swiftly walks back towards the dorms, her glossy curls bouncing behind her.

“Nemuri!” Mic calls after her to no avail. She doesn’t turn around. She’s completely done with you and it makes you feel incredibly guilty.

Mic turns around to face you and sighs. “I hope you make the right choice, Y/N,” he softly says, a soft sadness in his eyes that makes you feel even more guilty.

Then, he too leaves you alone standing in the grass to softly cry.

#shouta aizawa #shoutaaa #smutty smut #my fic shit #my works #here kitty kitty #bnha smut #black coded reader #black fanfic writer #black writers #aizawa x black!reader #shouta aizawa x black!reader

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lillysbigwilly · 2 years ago

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omg how about a royalty au hc for ellie!! like knight!ellie is the main guard for princess!reader and like they have so much tension and stuff despite their different position/role in the castle xoxo

yes yes yes!! i’ve read a few royalty au one shots before and fell in love so here we go!! let me know if we want a one shot of this?!

knight!ellie headcanons

you where the princess, next in line for throne. your father the king and a great one at that

ellie, for the past two years, had been your knight. she started working for the king when she was sixteen and on your eighteenth birthday was placed as your personal guard.

she stood guard of you room for the first half of the knight, making sure no one was able to come in whilst you slept peacefully

although, the more time you spent around her, whether it was going on a walk because you were bored or travelling to nearby towns to listen to your dad speak, the closer you got to her.

instead of going to bed at nine, you would stay awake for hours. sat on the floor in your pretty little nightgown, chatting away about the adventures she had been on (she refused to leave her post, just in case)

sometimes, the two of you would speak through your door if she took the morning shift. talking away whilst your maid helped you change into the dress they wanted you in

knight!ellie would watch in disgust as your father lined up your potential suitors. the men (and ellie) unknowing that you where gay.

at the end of the night, when you where supposed to be in bed and ellie was on patrol, you’d drag her into your room and slam the door behind her. ranting on and on about how disgusting the men where

it would be that night that ellie finds out your gay. letting it slip at the end with a quick “i don’t even like men!”.

she would feel the world stop as you broke down, falling into her chest as you wrapped your arms around her. ellie would, reluctantly hold you. scared you would crumble under her touch.

after that night, you would make any excuses to spend time with ellie alone. walking around the grounds, going horseback riding, getting her to teach you archery (your father wasn’t fond of the last one but was glad you were learning how to defend yourself)

eventually, you’d start sneaking to the town ellie lived in when she wasnt at the castle (which wasn’t often) you’d end up in the tavern where ellie coincidentally was.

she’d be adamant on getting you home but after some persuasion, you ended up with a drink in your hand and dancing around with the locals.

at some point in the night, you had managed to convince ellie to dance with you. your hand in hers and the other on her shoulder whilst her other hand held your waist. you swayed and she spam you

eventually, you had given up dancing properly. your arms around her neck whilst hers fell around your waist. your foreheads pressed together

“thank you for looking after me ellie” “it’s my job princess” “job… yeah”

you knew she meant well but hearing that she only looked after you for a job hurt you more than it should

after the night in the tavern, you distanced yourself. whenever ellie asked if you wanted an archery lesson or to go for a walk, you would deny it. saying you had reading or lessons to do

ellie would have had enough of the messing about and one night when she was finishing her shift, she’d storm inside your room to see you up and reading a book in the moonlight

“you’ve been avoiding me” “i don’t think i have ellie” “why!”

she’d be so persistent on getting an answer from you, you’d put your book down and stand up. stopping right in front of her face

“i get it’s your job to care about me but i really fucking wish it wasn’t” “what do you mean” “your so oblivious”

you, too, had enough playing around and instead just took her face in your hands and placed a kiss on her lips

“you just… you kissed me” “and i really want to do it again”

and you did, this time however ellie’s hands fell onto your hips. the two of you stumbling towards your bed, ellie falling backwards whilst you straddled her legs. the kiss unbroken

you had an eventful night, sweaty body’s and passionate kisses. it was cut short though, since ellie had to leave before anyone found you both.

the day after that, you demanded your father to allow ellie to be your suitor. you explained that you really liked her, your father was a bit shocked at first (and so was all the other workers in the dining hall) but was quick to compose himself.

it took a small amount of persuasion but you were soon in a carriage to the village ellie lived in with your father. civilians watching as you drove by, you knocked on ellie’s door with a smile

it was safe to say that the next next in line for throne would be the first in history to have a woman on her arm

#the last of us #fanfic #ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #tlou2 #wlw #ellie tlou #ellie williams headcanons #headcanon #ellie x reader #royalty au #knight!ellie

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syllyrix · 3 months ago

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In Your Shadow

The day I was born, you were alone at home. He left you there, barely out of your teens, while he was off playing pool with his friends, like it was any other day. I imagine you pacing the living room, unsure whether to call him or wait, your hands cradling your belly as you looked at the clock. I wonder if you were scared, I wonder if you thought you could change him or if in that moment, alone bringing me into the world, you realized you had made a mistake.

I was two and I slept on his chest, snow a quiet blanket outside, while you curled up at his side. You spoke your dream of three children, a vision cherished since you were a little girl. He was unmoved, his words like shards of glass piercing your heart: “It’s up to you. You’ll be the one taking care of them.” Reality slapped you back to silence as you rose and gently pulled me away from his arms.

I was three, and my fingers were sticky from candy. I remember because you said, “Don’t touch anything,” but when I saw the tears on your face, I wiped them away anyway. You looked at me with a half smile, the one that didn't quite reach your eyes. I kissed your cheek, because that’s what you always did when I was hurt. You held me close.

I was four, sitting on the floor outside the door. I was supposed to be asleep, but I could hear you shouting. You said you’d leave him, his dry laughter louder than all your words. I didn’t understand why he laughed. Maybe it was a joke. But you weren’t laughing and it felt like a punch in my stomach. When he came back that night he brought me a stuffed toy, hidden under his coat. You smiled.

I was five, perched on the kitchen counter, you told me to stay inside. There was a woman by the window, standing too close to him. You were there too, but you looked far away, like you were somewhere out of reach. The next day, you pulled me out of the swimming pool early. My hair was still wet when we got in the car, a curtain between the two us. I liked swimming. But the drive home was quiet, and when he said, “I love you,” It sounded like something had broken inside.

I was six when you found him drunk in bed next to me. He was asleep, but I was wide awake, frozen beside him. You shook him hard, like you were trying to wake up from a bad dream too. His breath stunk, just like the bottles he kept under the sink. I didn’t know what was wrong, but your hands were shaking, and mine were too. I had school in three hours, and you put me in bed with you. You cried a lot that night buried in your pillow. I held you tight. Later, he bought me a bike, yellow and white. I felt a fleeting burst of joy against the backdrop of our troubles. Love and fear danced before my eyes as I pedaled away trying to outrun the shadows.

I was seven when we packed everything we had, which wasn’t much. You said we were going to stay at Grandma’s house. The car smelled like wet grass and stale coffee. When you said you were happy we were leaving, your eyes were red. I smiled and said I was happy too, but I didn’t believe it. You said you wished you could go back to when you were sixteen, when you weren’t so afraid. I told you that you didn’t have to be afraid because I was there with you. You smiled, but it was the kind of smile that fades before it reaches your gaze. It didn't last long though, you fought with your parents too. A few months later, we were back. You said it was for the best. I didn’t ask what that meant.

I was eight and he took us for ice cream at that nice place down the road. I had insisted so much he finally gave in. It was a good day. You remembered the old times, talked about love at first sight. I liked those days when your face softened and you said it wasn’t really that bad, like you were trying to make the story better. But even then, I knew love wasn’t supposed to feel like walking on eggshells.

I was nine when I came home from school, and you were sitting on the couch, staring at nothing. You said he’d lost all the money on that foolish game, the one that made him angry when he didn’t win. But you looked like you’d lost way more than that. You said you should’ve left him a long time ago. I wanted to ask why you didn’t. I stayed silent. He even sold your old necklace. I remember how shiny it was, and how your face looked when you saw it was gone. I wanted to find it for you, but I didn’t know where to look. The blows he threw weren't just at you; they always felt like they were aimed at me too.

I was ten when I begged because I wanted him to stay. Angry at your tired gaze as you watched him leave with that resigned look across your face, like you were used to it, like this was just how things were. I still believed if I held on tight enough, he wouldn’t go. That maybe, if I stood between him and the door, he’d stay just for me. I clutched at the sleeve of his jacket, but he tore my hands away. I tumbled to the floor as he slammed the door and walked away. You crouched down beside me, I could feel your warmth. You wiped my face gently with the sleeve of your sweater. “He’ll be back,” you said. I wanted to hate him so bad, and eventually, I did. But you never spoke ill of him. "He loves you in his own way," you told me the day he left again. Your voice was steady, but your eyes—they always gave you away.

I was eleven when he lost his job. You didn’t tell me right away, but I heard you on the phone with Aunt. You were crying quietly, your voice hushed like you didn’t want me to hear. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered. I pressed my ear against the door, listening. You talked about bills, about how you didn’t have enough to make it work this time. Aunt said you should leave him; you didn’t say anything. She sent money for rent, but he used it on his game instead. The next day, the lights went out and you said we had to leave. I was happy, naive.

At twelve, we moved to Grandma’s house. It was early June, and you took me out of school. You looked defeated; I knew you didn't like it here—I could see it in the way you avoided everyone’s gaze. There were so many people that day; you came from a family of too many children. You told me a lot about lost opportunities and never studying—"It wasn’t for girls like me," you said, almost like you were ashamed. You talked about marriage as escape. And surrounded by all those unwelcoming faces, I felt the hollowness of belonging nowhere.

At thirteen, my room was bigger, but I had nothing to fill it with. We had sold almost everything just to get by. The emptiness of it mirrored the uncertainty I felt inside. I didn’t like this place either, and downstairs the arguments rattled the walls while I threw anxious glances at the door. I never felt brave enough. Each night, I stared at the mold-littered ceiling and imagined the universe and its stars as I prayed for a small corner of peace. A place we could call our own, one where we could feel secure and at home.

At fourteen, you pulled a small stash of cash from your closet. It wasn't much—a few crumpled bills and loose change. It was all you managed to save. You shoved it in my hands while you said, "These are yours, and if anything ever happens, he must never know." In that moment, our world’s instability lay bare beneath my feet. Tears filled my eyes as thoughts I wasn't ready to face swirled relentlessly in my mind. You kissed my forehead and whispered, “Don’t cry.”

At fifteen, I told you I wished I'd never been born, angry at the life you decided to bring me into. Those words I still regret to this day. The pain on your face is etched deep in memory. “I’m sorry” you said. “I didn’t mean it” I wailed. That night I fell asleep in your embrace.

At sixteen, I asked you why you didn't leave. You paused, your eyes heavy with years of holding on. “Sometimes it’s easier to stay than to walk away,” your voice faltered as you added, “It wasn’t just me I had to choose for.” Your words hung heavy in the air. I wanted to argue, tell you I never asked for that, but I hesitated because I already knew how each of our days must have felt like a mistake you couldn’t undo, and deep down, I wondered if you regretted my birth too.

At seventeen, he was gambling and drinking his life away again. Hours would pass and we would never know where he went. One day, we made pizza and watched TV—just me and you. While we ate quietly on the couch, you asked why I never went out. “Go have fun with friends,” you told me with a smile. But truth was, anxiety chained me to those four walls. I couldn't leave you behind, all your struggles becoming mine as I was your shadow day and night. I nodded, though, didn’t want to burden you anymore. To this day, I’d still surrender my life to ease your pain, and I know you’d do just the same.

As I turned eighteen, I didn’t feel like an adult at all. And now, even though I’m older, I still don’t. I wear all those years like thin layers of tender skin, perpetually bleeding. But as the world moves on and I stand still, everything so fragile and elusive, I realize something you once said has stuck with me: “You must love yourself first.” I didn’t understand it then, but now I see you weren’t just speaking to me, but also to that young girl who dreamed of a home, three children, and warmth. You were speaking to the woman who never had the chance to be loved the way she deserved. And so, as I look at you from across this room, I believe I can do it, not just for myself but for us both, for everything we went through, for the longest time—just me and you; I can learn, albeit slowly, to step out from your shadow and find my own way forward. Maybe, just maybe, we can both learn to live for ourselves one day, without the weight of the past dragging us back to this dark place.

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birds-in-the-spring · 3 months ago

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So birdie...how are you feeling after last night? Did you have fun?

- Centross

Well, I slept for a solid sixteen hours and I can’t walk in a straight line- so I’d say it was a pretty good time-

#fablesmp roleplay #fable smp roleplay #roleplay #(mature)#mature #what are you doing tonight?

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imaginesmai · 1 year ago

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Once upon a fairy tale - Ubbe Ragnarson (6)

Other parts: Once Upon A Fairy Tale Masterlist

Plot: the morning of the hunting raid arrives, and new feelings are revealed.

The hunting raid came sooner than you expected. After a week of being treated like a princess and not an unwanted guest, you considered for the first time staying a little longer.

When you woke up that morning, you were surprised by the sound of soft snores close to you. Ubbe was always the first one to leave the room in the mornings, and you had never woken up before him. But that day you saw him lying in the mattress on the ground, one leg falling off. You had not offered him the bed back, and he hadn’t asked, so someone had brought a mattress that was now an improvised bed.

Ubbe looked entirely peaceful, with his mouth partly open and his hair disheveled. From you were sitting in the bed, still under the covers, you could see his naked back and left leg. The thin sheet that was covering him last night barely let you anything to the imagination, and you felt any trace of sleep flying away from you, as other thoughts concerning those shapes filled your mind.

Color rose to your cheeks before you moved your eyes back to his tattoos.

Sleeping with a man was scandalous, but sharing a room with Ubbe didn’t feel like breaking any rule. You went to sleep facing different directions, turned your back while one of you was changing and avoided talking about it.

Still, it felt nice to share a room with someone, you thought. Back at Wessex, the only one who stepped inside your chambers were the servants to light a fire and prepare baths. You guessed that, given you would have to share your personal rooms eventually with a man, Ubbe wasn’t the worst choice.

“ ’y are you staring?”

Lost in your thoughts, you looked up from Ubbe’s tattooed back and found his half-open blue eyes, still laced with sleep. Not enough sleep, it seemed, to stop him from giving you a smug smile.

You quickly looked away and moved to the other side of the bed, ready to start your day and forget about that moment.

“Don’t stop on my account” he chuckled, turning on his side and watching you get up from the bed.

“I wasn’t staring. I was mentally asking you to stop snoring” you defended yourself, curling your toes when they touched the cold floor. “You snore a lot, you know? And you’re very loud. Also, it is very rude to sleep naked when there is someone else in the room. You look like a common peasant”

“Seems you have lots of things to say about me sleeping” he stared as you drew back the curtains. “And that you think a lot about me”

You noticed his eyes on your legs, which were barely covered by your night undergarments. The hot weather had arrived earlier that year, as if it didn’t want you to leave without suffering it. So, seeing as Ubbe slept naked and didn’t have an issue with it, you had been using a short nightdress above your knees and short sleeved.

Light filled the room and saved your blush, because Ubbe had to cover his eyes with his arm. Also, it gave you a brief view of his chest and lower belly, where blonde, dark hair started to grow. With the sun light, you could see every shadow of his body and guess what was hidden under the cover.

The servants’ words from last year appeared in your mind, and you looked away. Because you couldn’t afford to think about of someone else in that room, probably not so long from now, while you never saw him again.

“You could have warmed me” he complained, still not opening his eyes.

“It’s late. You should be already up”

Picking up your dress for the day and shoes, you locked yourself in the bathroom before he could say anything else. You only had a few hours left in Mercia; by night time, you would be back home, not taking the boat like usual, but crossing the border by land. Part of you wanted to spend every minute of that time enjoying his company for the last time. After sixteen years, it would be weird to never see him again, or at least not in the usual circumstances.

You should prepare yourself for the possibility of seeing him with someone next time, with the queen of Mercia, whoever he chose it to be.

Last night, after dinner, it really hit you that it was the last time you would step in that castle as Ubbe’s bride. As Ubbe asked you to keep your feet away from his face and you told him not to snore like a bear, it really hit you.

You had talked with your father and he knew your intention of going back to Wessex. He hadn’t said anything else, just hugged you tight and pressed a long kiss against your forehead.

When you exited the bathroom, your mood was on the floor; apparently, as was the day. The sun was no longer shinning, but dark clouds were covering it and giving the room a solitary make over.

“Has the bathroom offended you?”

Ubbe was still in the room, changed to his formal clothes and with his hair tied in the usual long braid. You didn’t answer, your lips pressed tight. In front of you, there was another empty morning, because with your father and him gone, there was little to do. If it rained, you wouldn’t be able to go out in the gardens, and Aslaug surely wouldn’t be an entertainment.

Before you could leave the room, Ubbe stopped you.

“Y/N”

The way his name fell from his lips made something to you, you didn’t know. As if it was a whispered chant. Standing in front of you, he crossed his arms and met your annoyed glance with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, receiving nothing but a small pout from you. “You look like someone stepped on your flowers. You should look happier”

“Well, I don’t”

Ubbe waited patiently for you to answer, not moving from his place.

He too felt like things weren’t on its place. After his argument with Hvitserk the previous day, his head had been a mess. And he couldn’t say it was only because of his brother, since he hadn’t been the one appearing in his dreams.

That night, he had dreamt about you. It wasn’t the first time, but that time, it was different. You were standing in the courtyard again, dressed in a white dress while other people danced around you. It was your weeding, and he had tried to catch you.

Only for you to move through the crowd and away from him. If, once he had woken up, he had felt the need to check for your sleeping form on the bed more than once, no one needed to know.

“It’s just – the weather” you moved your hand in a vague gesture towards the window, looking away from him. “And it’s the hunting raid. Which means you’ll be gone and my father will be gone. And Amerie, the gardens’ girl, isn’t here, which means I’ll have to spend my last day in Mercia with your mother. You know how torturous will that be?”

“Since she’s my mother, I think I have an idea”

“You don’t. She doesn’t speak to me anymore!” you complained, knowing it was another excuse for your mood. “And – Hvitserk isn’t going either, which promises me an eventful day of staring at two people who don’t want me here”

“You can always come to the hunting raid”

“I can’t!”

You were growing more exasperated by seconds. It wasn’t the weather, it wasn’t Aslaug and it wasn’t Ubbe. You didn’t know why your mood was so foul that morning, only that there was a knot on your throat that felt heavy.

“I’m not allowed to go hunting. Apparently, last time I asked I could lose my vagina if I ride a horse, which I’ve been doing for years with a perfect vagina. As if their concern about my vagina was behind any of their prohibitions”

With an amused smile, Ubbe watched you as you ranted about the reasons they gave you when you asked. He knew you couldn’t go – didn’t agree, because he had seen you ride and hunt before, and you did it far better than any of the men who decided you couldn’t. As children, you had put dead rats on Ubbe’s bed in more than one occasion, and he had dared you to kill a pigeon by throwing stones.

To his surprise, you had.

Growing up with a girl like you, not afraid of getting dirty and hitting back, had kept his mind open on the woman’s role. He knew it wasn’t fair, neither that you weren’t allowed on raids or that you had to marry someone to rule.

“And today I’m leaving” you finished, meeting his eyes. “I should be happy because I’ll finally sleep in peace and won’t have to smell like horse in my room”

“I don’t always smell like horse”

“You do. All the time” you assured him.

Looking at each other, Ubbe noticed how close you were. Maybe you weren’t touching, but he had never felt closer. Not even when you had your arms wrapped around each other while you rolled through the ground. His eyes, without his brain consent, traveled down your nose to your lips, which were pressed in a thin line.

He noticed the small scar on the bottom one, probably his doing. For a moment, he wondered how they would feel. If they were dry or soft, if you would open them or make him beg for it.

If you would let him put his hand on your cheek and kiss you right then, without thinking about the consequences.

Before his brain could fully disconnect from the actions of his body, you talked.

“I should be happy, but I’m not, because now I’m not even sure I’m taking the right decision here”

You noticed how his eyes lowered to your lips, how he wet his with the tip of his tongue. Even though the sun no longer warmed the room and a cold breeze seeped through the windows, you felt warm. You wondered how many inches were between you, if they were enough so that you could grab his hand, maybe more.

You wondered if, leaning forward, you would meet his lips or you would have to lift your heels from the ground.

Before any of you could wonder about anything else, there was a knock on the door from the servant, who was there to make the bed and clean the room. As every other morning, only that they usually arrived when Ubbe was gone.

He moved away first, clearing his throat and letting the young boy come in. You looked down and blinked in what felt like forever, even more confused than when you woke up.

The sun didn’t come up. In fact, before breakfast was over, it started to rain.

Summers in Mercia were soaked most of the time, and it usually didn’t bother you. But as you ate your last breakfast, you felt like throwing punches to the rain.

The hunting raid would leave soon, and wasn’t cancelled because of the weather. The forest was close to the castle and there would be enough people to make it safe. If only, the animals would take cover from the rain and it would end sooner. You told yourself that it was for the better, as the sooner it ended, the sooner you would be home.

Ubbe and you didn’t talk during breakfast. Sigurd made small conversation and Ragnar tried to include you in the planning of the day, but it didn’t work. Not even your father, who had enjoyed his time with Ragnar like no other year, was talking.

From the kitchens, they served food fit for a king. Eggs with bacon, buttered bread, different juices and fruits, and many other plates that you hadn’t seen. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the raid or your departure.

Hvitserk nor Aslaug were with you that day. The prince wouldn’t be on the raid, you learned last night, as he preferred other activities, and Aslaug was nowhere to be found. That left a Lothbrok in the castle, so Ubbe could participate.

Before you could say goodbye or ask him if you would see him later, he excused himself and left, not looking at you. Soon after that, breakfast was over and it was only your father and you walking to the stables.

“Our things are packed already” Ecbert informed you, walking with his hands behind his back. “They must be finishing yours right now. But if you need anything, you can always tell them to wait”

“I know” you answered, looking at his hunched form. “Will we leave once you come back? Right after?”

“I guess so. There isn’t a reason for us to stay. Right?”

He looked at you with inquisitive eyes, stopped walking, and you doubted. Once the engagement was broken, you didn’t have a reason to stay. It would be a friendly separation, for the best of both kingdoms. It was the right thing to do.

“I was just wondering if we will stay for dinner. Because I haven’t slept much, and sleeping in a carriage is always uncomfortable. My back feels terrible after, and I get every type of bruises” you explained, nodding at him. As if you were making sense. “And – I know it’s rude to say, but father, maybe it’s best if you rested before the trip. After a long day the best thing you can do is rest”

“Are you calling me old, Y/N?”

“No! But father, I care about you. And your health. What if after a day out you get tired? It’s two days journey back home, maybe it’s best if we wait. Just for a day. Don’t you see?”

“What I see is you making excuses once more” he frowned. “Like you always do when the storms seasons end and you don’t want to leave Wessex. But now you don’t want to go back?”

“It’s not – you’re not understanding me!”

Before you could get more worked up, or snap at your father, he gripped your shoulder and gave you a small smile. There were wrinkles on his eyes, his cheeks and forehead. He did look old, and tired.

A knowing silence passed by, where he seemed to read your mind just by looking at you. That was how things were with him; he just knew. When you were faking the chicken pox, when you got yourself food poisoning, he knew. Growing up with him as a single parent made him know you like the back of his hand, and with those few, rambling words, he knew.

Closing his eyes before talking, he took a deep breath.

“You haven’t asked my opinion yet” Ecbert told you. “You have taken your decision, I know, but it’s a big one and you’re allowed to ask for second opinion. And I haven’t given your mine because it’s your choice, it should always be. But I have one”

“And what is it?”

“I think, Y/N, that what happened at the courtyard was unacceptable. No one should have to go through that, even less you. Because I love you more than anything, I want to leave right now and lock you away so it never happens again” he said, his voice breaking at the end. “And I will always be sorry that I wasn’t there for you, that I didn’t listen and broke the arrangement sooner”

“But?” you guessed.

“But, my sweet darling” Ecbert chuckled sadly. “I love Ragnar, I always will. I know it was a mistake that won’t be repeated while he’s king, because I have trusted him with your life before. And I know Ubbe. I see his father in his eyes, in his sense of responsibility, in the way he acts. He won’t let that happen again. I stand on my thought, Y/N, that if you let him, he’ll be a good husband.”

“You don’t know that”

“I do. Because he looks at you just as I looked at your mother”

It surprised you that your father talked about her. As a child, you were curious, and tried to learn about her life and their marriage. But your father grieved in silence, decided to spend the rest of his life taking care of you, meeting your every need and assuring you a future. That was why he approved the marriage proposal for two young kids from Ragnar, why he traveled for two days every year with his bad knee.

Your mother was a blurry memory for you, created with pieces of information you had obtained through other people. If your father talked about her, it wasn’t about their relationship.

So you waited in silence, watching as his eyes got brighter each second.

“She would have hated every second of the agreement, and would have probably fought Aslaug a few times. I’m not sure we would even be friends with Mercia anymore” he chuckled sadly, looking at you with grief and sorrow. “She… she was the woman of my life, Y/N. And we didn’t love each other when we met, but I grew to love her. You can too. Ubbe will take care of you, will make sure you have a good, healthy life. And you don’t look too disgusted with the idea anymore”

You weren’t, you thought. Staying meant losing the chance of choosing your future, but in certain way, you were making a choice. It meant uncertainty, because Ubbe had been nice while he thought you would leave. But that morning, you had seen his doubt.

Maybe what your father had always said was true, and you could grow to like him. Not to love him, not yet, but you could see yourself waking up in his chambers again, taking walks together and sharing meals.

“Let’s do this” Ecbert proposed when you didn’t say anything. “Let’s say I’m and old king, because I am. My knees won’t take well a hunting raid and a carriage trip back to Wessex. And my back certainly won’t survive it. So, maybe, we could wait until tomorrow. Maybe the next day. You never know with my age”

“Father, I don’t know” you admitted. “I don’t know if I want to stay, if I want this. It’s only been a week”

“No, Y/N, it’s been sixteen years. And you do know. You know that you don’t want to leave. So we stay”

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

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