#i'll finish it sometime late next year probably

[foxghost]

I finished book one of the Three-Body problem, off to book two

which is ... 70k longer and then book three is 225k

[bi-writes]

a hand for a hand | knight!ghost x f!reader

in the year of our lord 1657, your king wields a weapon that cannot be reproduced. as your queen's lady-in-waiting, you steer clear of it, lest it cut you when it passes by. but duty and desire are rarely met in a man's world.

type: one-shot (6.5k), AO3

cw: dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, mentions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, ghost is obsessed with your tits (18+)

It is not a secret that you are afraid of the king's men. There is a reason that they have a reputation of cruelty. Ravagers, conquerors, unruly and untamed–they train like dogs, and they live like them, too. By accident, you have wandered to where their barracks are, and if it wasn't for the happenstance of your king hearing your screams, they would've taken your virtue that night.

That one belongs to my wife, he had said, gripping you by the scruff of your neck. Spoil it, and I'll have your fuckin' heads. His queen had been much kinder when he returned you back inside, cradling your head in her lap and promising to have something fashioned for you to wear so none of his men would ever touch you again.

And they haven't. They do not bow to you, but they open the doors for you, move out of your way, try to keep their eyes off of the softness of your cleavage and the curve of your skirt. But there is one that does not, there is one that refuses, and this one you avoid the most.

You don't know him by any other name other than Ghost. The right hand of the king, his most trusted advisor and his most brutal of men. There are times when he barges into the throne room, his sword dragging along the stone floor and trailing blood in its path, and he tosses the head of the king's enemy onto the floor. You clutch onto the skirt of your queen's dress, tears welling up in your eyes, and when you look up, he is staring at you, heaving in the metal of his armor, and you look away as his men yell out proudly as they crowd the room.

His eyes are always on you when you are in his presence. They track you as you move behind your queen, follow you as you eat and drink and tend to her majesty's needs. He wanders the halls, and he observes you as if you are his next meal. And maybe you are–if he suddenly decided you would be his next conquest, you don't think a refusal is in order. Maybe that's the mercy he gives you; just the aggressiveness of his stare and his stare only, and not the strength of his hand or the cruelness of his demeanor.

There is always a party. Always a celebration for this brute. He is praised by politicians and priests alike, because he must be the hand of god, delivering whatever the king asks for when it is asked of him. He does not lose, all he comes back with is chests full of gold and new slashes to add to the growing collection on his skin. Sometimes you wonder if he puts them on himself. You wonder if he drags his dagger in a crooked line down the length of his arm, as if he is tallying his win, counting up to a number that already puts the men that came before him to shame.

He seems like the kind of man to do so–like the kind of man to do it even with the blood of his adversary still warm on the sharp edge of the blade, the kind to lick it clean when he's finished just to solidify the unease and the terror of the next man to have the unfortunate fate of ending up at the wrong end of his adrenaline.

He has no face. He has no name. And if he is coming for you, it's already too late; your fate has been sealed, and you should say your last rites. The only mercy he ever gives is that death is always quick. His sword is too sharp, and his hand is too heavy.

It is late in the evening when you hear it. There's screaming in the courtyard, yells and howls and cheers. You put down your hairbrush, getting up and padding to the window to look outside. The king's men are there, hundreds of them milling about and walking around. They share mead and wine, crusty bread in their muddy hands. They are bloody and bruised, but they are happy. They sing and chant, hold each other and crowd around fires. They left weeks ago, and they are back now, and you suspect it must be victory on account of their demeanor.

You are not surprised by this. They aren't kind, but it makes them good soldiers. They aren't afraid to die; it's a common idea in your culture that for a man to die in battle is the only way to true salvation, to actual ascension. You have always hated this idea. Boys become cruel, and men become unforgiving, and it is why you are so grateful to be her majesty's lady-in-waiting because it means she is your only duty and nothing more.

You are surprised by the knock on your door. You think about ignoring it, but then there is another knock, and then a familiar, low voice mutters, "Are you awake, my lady?"

You tie your robe and scurry. When you open up the door, you curtsy low and graceful, your eyes drawn to the floor as you tremble a little in the king's presence. You've never really spoken to him before, not without his queen at your side.

"Y-Yes, your majesty? I'm sorry for my appearance, I–"

"It's quite late," he says gently. "You don't have to apologize. Is it alright if I come in?"

You stand from your curtsy, blinking up at him. You think for a few moments before you nod, widening the door. He settles himself at the seat by the window, looking down into the courtyard. He has a hint of a smirk on his face as he looks down at his men, still singing.

"I have a request of you," he says finally. You take a seat at the edge of your bed, wringing your hands nervously in your lap. Whatever his request is, you don't know why he's putting it this way. You're not exactly allowed to refuse. "It is time for my most decorated men to receive their titles. They deserve it, after what they have done for me these past few years."

You swallow, "Yes, of course. You have such a fine army, your majesty. You must be...V-very proud."

He turns to face you, and he nods.

"These titles come with land. Money. Responsibility. And it comes with other things they might request," he explains. "One of these things can be a bride."

"They are most fortunate," you say softly, trying to smile. He stands, turning back to look down into the courtyard.

"You are to be wed tomorrow," he tells you. "I know you gave up much to accept your role at my wife's side, and for that, I have arranged for a sizable dowry on your behalf. Congratulations, my lady." he turns to smile at you. "By sunset, you are to be a duchess."

You're shaking when he goes. You clutch the sheets, sinking to your knees, and you cry. You cry because you know who asked for your hand. You know who wants you, you know who it is, because every time he comes back from war, he cannot take his eyes off of you. He eats you with his gaze, he violates you and has never even touched you, he takes from you, and you've never spoken to him, but you know it's him, you know it, you know it–

Your queen is ecstatic. She lends you diamonds to wear, and she fusses over the embroidered silk and cotton dress they've sewn for you overnight. She tells you she's so proud, that you will make such a beautiful bride and a beautiful duchess, and it takes all of your strength not to cry, to choke back your sobs. Your innocence will be gone by the next morning, you know this, and yet here she beams about colored fabric and your new, unwanted title and all of the duties you have never, ever wanted for yourself.

Marriage will be your prison, and you will never be free. You'll be hidden behind closed doors and forced to carry loud, chubby babies.

You are not the only bride that afternoon, but you feel like the most important. Your veil is the longest, your dress is the most intricate, and you are wearing the queen's diamonds. Not to mention, you are to become a duchess, and the rest will be lords and ladies, nothing more. You have always hated the hierarchy that society fits themselves into, but you've never despised it more than this moment.

He is waiting for you when you make it to the throne room. He wears his armor, polished and without blood, his face covered and his hood up to shadow his dark eyes. He wears his telltale insignia with pride, the skull motif of his belt gleaming and the paint of his mask fresh. He stands tall and menacing, a reaper in human skin, and you are so close to tears as you make your way to him. Your eyes find his, and he holds out his hand for you to take. You slip a delicate hand into his gloved one, letting the rough fabric warm you as he brings you to stand in front of him. He purrs, you think, a low rumble as his eyes look you up and down.

You are a prize. A trophy. Nothing more. A gift given for cutting the heads off of your king's foes, and that is all.

The ring on your finger is gold, and the ring you slip over his is silver. And then he gives you his first gift as your husband–a tiara, made of emerald and gold, and he slips your veil off to tuck it between the strands of your hair. The intricate pattern on the tiara matches the patterns along the iron of his armor, and you want to think of this as a gesture of good will, but you know it is given with possessive intent, a brand of ownership.

Because that is what this is. Not a ceremony of love, but an exchange, a transaction. You've been bought with blood, and there is nothing you can do about it.

But one day he will grow bored of me, and maybe then, I'll feel myself again.

He narrows his eyes, glares, and your lips part, trembling, you are terrified. His response is to growl with delight, his eyes falling to stare at the laces that hold in your cleavage. You observe this fact–the fact that you have things that other ladies do not. You are not tiny like them, not thin nor delicate. You are warm, soft, and the squeeze of your breasts in your dress draw him in.

You are a prisoner, now. But perhaps, if you play this game correctly, you can be in your ward's good graces. This is the hand you've been dealt; perhaps there is still a way to win if you steel your bluff.

The party is lively. There is music, gold coins tossed haphazardly on tables, so much dancing and enough food to stuff yourself for days. There is endless wine, and there are brides seated in laps, hungry new couples kissing and whispering soft nothings into each other's ears. The king blessed you all, told you to enjoy your new lives, your new titles, to make your country proud and raise pretty, fat babies.

You sit aways from him. You don't speak, just stare at your dinner plate, sipping wine absentmindedly as you think about the rest of your life and how miserable you will be. You think about the control you have never had, the choices you have never been given, and you wish so badly that you were a man.

Men simply ask for, and then they receive. Women simply hope that their eyes don't meet a flame too hot to handle.

His eyes bore into your head. When you catch his gaze every once in a while, all he does is tilt his head to the side and observe you. The beauty that you are, the woman that no one can have, the supple tits that belong to him, and the perfect cunt he knows that you have under the multitude of skirts you hide it under. Your skin glows, your hair is healthy, you will give him everything that he needs, that he craves.

You'll look so beautiful carrying his heir. You'll look so perfect when you begin to wear the dresses he will buy you, when you sleep in the bed in the house that he gives you, when you stand in the kitchen that he builds for you. Although, a woman like you deserves to do nothing but relax, be pampered, to lay down on a bed of furs as he eats your sweetness and fucks you stupid.

When the morning is early, you sneak out. You scurry to your bedroom, closing the door behind you for a moment of peace. You take a seat on your bed, the bed you aren't sure you will have for much longer, and you sit there and stare at your feet until the door opens.

You know who it is right away. Coming in unannounced, because now he is allowed to, because everything in this room now belongs to him, from the thread holding your dress together to the very breaths you take.

You sit up straight, turning your head. Ghost slips through, taking up the space by the door as it shuts behind him. You watch him as he stands poised just like the soldier he is, looking at you illuminated by nothing but candlelight. His gloved hands rest at his sides, but he squeezes them in and out of fists, clicking his tongue. You hear the leather of them move.

You have never spoken to him before. You've never heard him speak. You wonder if he really knows how to; you wonder if he has a voice or if he's been whittled down to nothing but the sounds that a loyal mutt makes. You know why he's here, you know why he's come. You can't tell him no, you don't think, but he doesn't move from his place, so you aren't completely sure of what he wants.

But you have an idea.

"Y'abhor me," he says finally. He speaks. You swallow. At least he isn't stupid. It's rare that you see a brute with brains. Although, with all the battles he has won, you know he doesn't lack intelligence. He is seasoned, worldly, knows how to convince the politicians and to rile up the uneducated men that kill for him. He must have a quick tongue and a strong vocabulary. A leader bred for killing, a man taught to know his audience and how to deliver a persuasive message.

But has he been taught to tame a cat? How to please a woman? How to love her, how to have her?

Love. What a silly dream.

"Not as much as I fear you," you admit. He hums, his eyes crinkling a little, as if he's smiling. You watch him carefully as he finally moves, rounding the bed before he stands in front of you.

"Wot is it y'r afraid of?" he asks. His voice comes low, from the bottom of his chest. You tilt your head up to look at him.

"That you'll hurt me," you whisper. He shrugs, shaking his head.

"A beaten wife is no good t'me," he tells you, very matter-of-fact. "Need strong heirs. Which means I need y'fed and happy."

"I'll never be happy."

He grips your chin, shutting you up. A part of you wishes he would be meaner. That he would be the angry, possessive Ghost that he truly is and show the kingdom that there is no part of him redeemable or salvageable. You want to sport his bruises and tell the queen he is an animal, but his touch is firm and nothing more. If anything, he's gentler than you expected him to be.

"We'll see about tha'."

Your eyes water, and you stiffen at his touch.

"I know who you are," your voice cracks. "I know what you do. You're a pillager. You take women, and you kill men."

He tilts his head to the side, smoothing his thumb along your bottom lip. You aren't wrong. Since he was small, most of what he has known has been the smell of blood in the air and the sound of screams when he shows up at their doors. He's never been particularly gentle when he ravages. He takes, takes, takes–it tastes good and strengthens his bones. It puts medals on his chest and pretty, thick women in his bed.

But you are no village in an unfortunate land. You are the gift that his king has given him. The forbidden treasure that he had his eye on since he saw you standing there beside his queen. Poised, elegant, graceful, timid, untouched, perfectly soft. Ghost has never known this kind of thing, and if you had been any other lady, he would have married you long ago, but he had to wait. He had to be patient, win and kill enough that his king could not refuse his request–no, his demand–to have you.

He did not do the king's bidding for the glory or for the honor. He did it so he could bite into you, so that even if you screamed, you belonged, and no one would care.

"Just a matter of war, dear wife. They matter little," Ghost mutters. "Let me look at ya..." he tilts your head side to side, observing you. He guides his hand down your throat, arching you back so he could trace his fingers along the swell of your breasts. He hums with approval, reaching lower and squeezing the fat of one breast with one big hand. His eyes flash, and he fondles the other.

You are surprised by the sensation. No one has ever touched you this way before. It feels...good. His hands are warm, even under all of that leather, and you find yourself feeling rather sensitive. You lean back a little on the palms of your hands, looking down. You watch as he traces a finger around your nipple, and you bite your lip when it pebbles under his touch. He uses both hands now, cupping both of them, growling. Ohhh–it feels so nice.

"Gonna be so nice when they're full," he murmurs, mostly to himself. "All for our babe."

You don't know what comes over you. You don't know why you do it, but you do. You lift your hand, gripping the edge of the laces that tie the front of your dress closed, and you pull. The weight of your breasts unravel the ribbons, and Ghost groans audibly when they spill out of your corset. There is a tickle that you feel, some sort of sick satisfaction, knowing that you've pleased him in some way.

"Tha'sit...My beautiful bride..." he smacks his lips together under his mask, as if he's hungry, "Tits of a fuckin' angel."

You squeeze your legs together. You know what it is to feel aroused, but this is different. You feel wet, so wet, as if it's wetting the skirt of your dress. You've never felt it this strong. You whimper a little, and he chuckles, so mean.

"Y'like tha', my bride?" he asks. He reaches up and cups your cheek, bringing your soft eyes to his. The praise, it itches you nicely. "Y'r m'prize, swee'eart. I killed over a thousand men, and y'are what m'reward is, did y'know tha'?" he hisses. "Cut the heart out of a man's chest, like a fuckin' pig, just to 'ave this cunt."

Why does it feel so good? Why are you getting wetter and wetter, why are you whining, why are you giving into it? Why do you want it so bad, why do you ache?

It hurts, it hurts–

"'s olright," he coos, so condescending. "Shhhh..." he puts a palm on your chest and pushes, making you lay back. You swallow, letting him put a finger between the laces of your corset and tug. It barely budges, fastened so carefully, and you gasp sharply when he uses two big hands and grunts, ripping your corset apart. You hear the crack of the whale bone give away under the strength of him, and it's a reminder of just how dangerous he is, how strong, and you know when he looks between your thighs, he'll find you wet and needy and captivated.

The corset comes loose, and he tugs, taking your skirts with it until you're naked underneath him. You want to feel shame, but you can't. You're so desperate, for whatever he will give you, and instead of covering yourself, you let your knees fall open. The groan he lets out makes you leak even more, and he watches with awe as your puffy hole pulses. He moves to shove his trousers down, but you stop him, putting a hand on the chest of his leather armor.

"Wait–" you meet his eyes. Your eyes flutter. "B-but...But I want..."

He eyes you curiously, narrowing them.

"Want wot?"

You swallow.

"I-I..." you reach down and slip your fingers gently through your folds. The squelch makes his eyes widen, and he's mesmerized by what he sees. "I want...Your mouth..."

He snickers, "Y'think a man will eat it so easy?" he raises a brow. "Doesn't work tha' way. Besides..." he shrugs. "I don't reveal m'face."

You sit up, blinking, smoothing your hands down his chest and tracing them along the hem of his trousers. His dark eyes follow you, and you realize he doesn't really say no. You need to remind him that you are not one of his men. You need to be kept happy, and he needs to give in, even if it hurts his fucking ego.

"Please?" you whisper, taking his hand and putting it back on your face, kissing the palm of his glove. Killed a thousand men to have me, so show me–show me, show me, show me. You nuzzle into it, giving him those eyes, and he stares for a long few moments. "Please..."

He sinks to his knees almost immediately. His armor stretches a little, the leather and metal moving rigidly with him. Your eyes widen a little at the position–the thing that he is knelt down in front of his wife, an act of submission.

"Turn around," he snaps. "On y'r knees."

You do as he says. You turn on the bed, your face squished against the cushions, and he yanks you back by your hips. You fist the sheets, sucking in a shaky breath, and your eyes squeeze shut when he puts two hands on your ass and spreads you wide. He plants a kiss on your folds from over the mask, and then you hear the shuffle of fabric before his warm tongue prods at your entrance.

He eats slow at first. Just drags his tongue through the slick there. He's exploring you, learning you. But then he is all-consuming. He hisses, gripping you by the thighs and suckling at your clit before tracing his name into the folds of your cunt. You can't help how wet you are–drooling, wetting his mask, crying so soft as he bobs his head and eats you, starving. He did not expect you to be so sweet, so soft. Every part of you is soft, and he associates the taste of you with the sound of your pleasure, and it's like a trigger. His brain ticks just the right way when he hears you moan for the first time. Not even battle quiets the tinnitus, but the ringing is nearly gone now.

He wonders if you're sent from heaven, even though he doesn't believe in it. But something had to have sent you, something had to have given you to him, because it's too much, it's too good, it's too real.

What he wants is in his hands, cumming on his tongue, crying because of his touch. Too real, too real, too real.

He pulls away. He smacks his lips gently, smirking, and then he pulls his mask back down. He stands up straight, watching you, still on your knees, squirming. He tuts, turning you onto your back easily. You're languid and a little breathless, and you giggle a little when you realize how easy it is for him to manhandle you, for him to move you. You've never felt very small, but he doesn't even strain, not even a little.

He's so scary, it makes you sick, but you can make this your own–you could make him love you, couldn't you? Someone this twisted, someone this insane, you could make him obsessed, you could drive him crazy, you could have the loyal dog you have always been yourself.

Killed a thousand men to have me, so I'll put you on your fucking knees.

It's what you're owed. For all the years of serving, for all the years of submission and pain and kneeling and curtsying, you're allowed to have something, you can have something, even if it's this monster of a man. He may have paid for you, but you won't let a thousand men die for nothing.

You will make him love you. You will make him love you. You will make him love you.

You sit up, a bit dazed. You're swimming in your own head, a little insane from the orgasm. You know what a man like him wants. You have doted on men like him all your life. You know what it is that arrogant people crave, what it is they desire, the things that keep them up at night, you know because you've soothed those fears all your life.

You just need to know how to make him purr. You need to know what clears the thoughts in his head.

"My husband," you whisper, meeting his eyes, and there's a little twitch in his eyes. He likes that title. "I–"

"Did y'like that, my bride?" he murmurs. "Your husband's mouth on y'r cunt, 'n now y'r singin' for me, eh?"

You bat your lashes, sliding your hands up his forearms. You drag your fingers over the sleeves of his armor, whimpering. The smell of leather is overwhelming, but you suppose you must get used to it. You have a feeling you'll be polishing it for the rest of your life.

"I've always been...Terrified of you," you whisper. "The way you come into court...The way you fight...Seeing you in all those places, you have always scared me..." he hums, his eyes intrigued. He smooths his hands up your thighs, gripping onto your waist as he tugs you closer to him. "But, I..." you reach for his shoulders, pulling on him until he bends, leans over you, crowds your space and shadows you like the eclipse he truly is. "I-I want more..."

He chuckles, "I know y'do," he echos. "Could see it in y'r eyes, darling girl," he sighs. "A pretty face like this one...Wasted on her majesty."

"I don't think we're allowed to say that."

"I deliver entire countries at john's feet, I'll say wot I bloody please," he snaps. You just blink up at him, before smiling a little.

This disgusting, murderous, possessive, immoral, treacherous piece of shit that is your husband is really the most beautiful man you've ever set your eyes on. Strong, resilient, unable to be killed, adored by his king and his men alike. He is everything a man is supposed to be, but nothing like how a gentleman should behave. He is built for war, built to take, so how can you get this nasty thing to love you?

Ghost does not seem the kind of man to bend to the desires of ordinary men. He may want to fuck you, but he has self-control. He may enjoy the praise of his men, but he doesn't require it. He may ache for the soft press of a woman, but he is self-sufficient and easily deterred.

So you do what servant women do best. You appease, because at the end of the day, Ghost is still a man, and men are all the same.

"A baby..." you whisper, holding onto the backs of his hands firmly. You dig your nails into the skin there, arching your back to get closer to him. He growls under the mask, metal biting into your soft skin as he grips you even tighter. "Want a baby..."

He cackles, so mean, and he leans down to kiss along your ear, down your throat, biting at the supple skin through the mask. He's still got all of his armor on, he hasn't shed one lick of his gear, but you cling to it like a parasite. He is one with it, and you realize this now, his second skin made of durable steel and patent animal skin, singed at the edges. He's such a fine soldier, too strong for his own good, too rough around all his edges to be anything but a masochist, but he's yours. He belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and it isn't until he slides the warmth of his length through your folds that you realize this, too.

You reach up with trembling hands, high enough to cup his masked face. He flinches, nearly throwing you off, but you shush him gently, cooing softly as you nuzzle your nose against his.

"I'm sorry," you whisper there. It's so intimate, this position, and you know that he has never let anyone touch him this way by the feeling of his body under your hands, stiff and unable to move. You roll your hips gently, up against his, and you let out a soft keen at the squelch of your slick against his cock. "It's...It's everything I didn't know I wanted..."

He grunts, metal creaking as his nostrils flare.

"I don't understand," he murmurs. Affection, it's so unfamiliar that it startles him. That someone can be kind to him, something other than a hard hand and an impossible order, it's not something he knows, and he's not sure how he feels about it. His instinct tells him to distance himself, but his cock guides him closer.

"You," you whine. "So big–" you reach down between your bodies, pumping his cock gently. Your fingers barely meet around his girth, a true testament to his size, he lacks this largeness nowhere. "–there's nothing to be afraid of, is there?"

Ghost snarls a little, gripping your thighs tight and securing them around his waist. You lock your ankles around his hips, pulling, and he hums as the head of his cock sinks into you easily.

"Naughty lil' girl," he laughs, standing straight as his thighs meet your ass. You whine, your back bowing like a taut string, and he slides his tongue over his teeth with a menacing click. "Not a virgin, are ya?"

"I-I am," you gasp, clawing at his forearms, and he hisses when you clench.

"Mm. Not a stranger t'this feelin' then, aye?"

You shake your head, and he nods, hoisting your legs up and over his shoulders as he gives you a firm thrust.

"Good," he mutters. "Don't much feel like pettin' ya."

And he doesn't. He's a menace. He snarls like a beast under his armor, his gloves squeezing your plush thighs as he pounds into you with no words to soften the blow. He isn't gentle by any means–he gives, and he expects you to take, and your legs shake as you try and crawl away from him. He doesn't let you–his fingers spread around your waist and he tugs, spearing you back onto his cock before he leans over you and starts putting his back into it.

Despite the roughness, he looks down at you, eyes focused on yours, and he doesn't look away. Your arms flail a little until you reach up and wrap them around his neck for stability, but it only draws his face close to yours. Your hand falls to grip his jaw, and he leans into it just enough that you know you have him.

"You'll make such a good little babe," he grunts, groaning when you tighten just that much. He's securing his place, making room inside of you so you can take even more. "Cunt was made to bear m'children, m'lady..."

"That so?" you squeak, and he smiles under the mask–you're falling apart on his cock, a good girl, just for him, just like you always are. "Have to finish what you started for that to happen, don't you?"

"Fuckin' brat–" Ghost snaps, but he presses his face to yours, needing to be closer, needing to have you, needing to make you his from the inside-out. A ring is not enough, no, he has to bind you to him forever by making you bear his kin. He will give you many, he's going to keep you fat and beautiful and pregnant, and his children will know that their father hungered for their mother so much that he destroyed a generation of men to covet one of his own.

Ghost has known since the first moment he laid his eyes on you that you would be it. You had to be his wife, no one else would suffice, because no one else could bear the weight of his name the way you would be able to. No one else would be able to carry his babies without dying, no one else could make the sun fall and the moon rise and the fire wane just long enough for him to feel human again, no one.

You start to think the same. You've never felt this way, so out of your body and so aware of it all at once. You're floating–you're somewhere else, you think. There's a pleasure so searing, that you can barely breathe. His cock is deep, touching places inside of you your fingers could never dream to reach, and there's a place that he touches sometimes that makes your eyes blur and your mouth make the most pathetic whining sound. You're crying, begging, asking him for more, please–! Nnghh–please!

He's never had a woman so wet. He has always had them for his own pleasure. He has never paid attention to what they feel or tried to make it nice for anyone but himself, but he knows he will never want it the same ever again. There's something so satisfying about the heavy plat, plat, plat that his cock makes every time his hips meet yours. He can feel his trousers sticking to his thick thighs, knows that there must be some thick, creamy slick coating his length and sticking to your skin that he suddenly wants to scoop up with his tongue and savor the tang of his bride, his wife, his pretty, pretty girl–tha's it, just right, like tha'–

"I...I-I–!" it's more intense than you've ever felt it. A crescendo of pleasure that is starting to grow in your belly, an unwavering warmth that he keeps flooding you with, so good that you can't stop crying for it. You're sputtering, drooling, clawing at the hood around his back because it's so fucking close, it's right there, it's mine, you're mine, mine, mine–

"Fuckin' hell–" Ghost groans, cradling your head against his chest as he stills his hips against yours and fills you nice and warm. You go cross-eyed, you think, shaking as you latch your mouth onto his masked jaw and suck. You need to put your mouth around something, need to fill it with the taste of him. He doesn't move, body heavy and suffocating over you, but you don't tell him to move and make no effort to push him off.

You think you want this. You think you want him to keep you here, just like this, underneath him, full of him, drooling from more than just your mouth from a fucking too good and the promise of something more.

He moves to take a seat on the bed, and you chase after him. You keep your arms around his neck, shuffle into his lap, and he chuckles under his breath as he wraps one big arm around you and tugs you close to him.

Maybe it isn't so bad to be bound to someone like this. Maybe it isn't so bad to belong, maybe it isn't so bad to be wanted this way, maybe it isn't the most unfortunate thing to not have the autonomy of yourself anymore in favor of being this thing's wife.

You slide your hand down his chest before smoothing it over one masked cheek. His eyes close for a moment, and he leans into it for just long enough that you recognize the gesture as one of need. Ghost aches, too–maybe not for the same thing you ache for, but he aches, and maybe it's for this.

Something gentle. Something soft. Something to bury himself into because the flames have burnt too hot for too long, and the voices in his head give him no reprieve. His hands are too dirty, too unclean, and you think maybe that's why he doesn't take his gloves off anymore–there is no cleaning agent enough for the blood caked under his fingernails.

He's more human this way. Less beast, more man, but you see that flicker of humanity disappear entirely when he sees the trickle of his cum slipping onto the fine sheets of your bed.

What a waste. What a loss. He has to fuck you again.

He will never be bored of me, I don't think. Ghost will want me forever–even when we are dead, because he cannot die, because he's already rotting inside.

You don't seem to mind your new position. No kneeling, no curtsying–your duty is on your back and on your side and on your stomach, presented for your husband, just for his pleasure, just for your own.

In all your life, you have never wanted this. You endured the burden of serving because you were at least needed this way. Marriage to you looked akin to death; when the veils fell over girl's faces, you never saw them again. They would be confined to their houses, made to spread their legs, forced to carry children they didn't want and die the slow death of giving their husbands everything they wanted while their dreams were buried alongside them.

Your dream is freedom. It always has been. Your dream is to do as you please, to go where you want to go, to say the things you want to say. There is an understanding here that you have, an opportunity that you could not see before. Before you had Ghost, you saw him as the thing in your way. He was the quicksand that would pull you under, the tide that sunk the earth, the dog that guarded his bone. But you know now, you understand, that Ghost doesn't have to be the wall in your way.

He is more animal than man, and in that fact alone, you feel power in your toes and something hungry knocking at the bone of your ribs, just waiting to come out.

Ghost will hold the sword. And you will hold the leash.

NEXT

[vikkirosko]

The last story was amazing, hope you can get this one in before the holdidays, and have a nice vacation. And just a great next few months on top of that! But I was wondering ( sorry this may be long ) if you could do a headcanon of alastor, lucifer, Angel Dust, lucifer, fizz + Ozzie, and Rosie? ( sorry if that's to many characters there all just great characters ) x a reader who has CIP ( the inablility ) to feel pain? Thank you! Also how have you been?

I'm all good. I haven't had much free time lately, so I'm a little behind schedule on writing requests, but I still don't lose hope that I'll be able to finish everything before the end of the year. And how are you doing?

Headcanons CIP

🕷 Angel Dust x Reader 💖

You and Angel have known each other for a long time. You knew that he often got into various scuffles and always reminded him to be careful. One of the times you knew for sure that he was going to get into trouble, you went with him. You were right and helped him cope and not get hurt, but there was something that caused him concern. You were hit by several bullets, but you didn't seem to pay any attention to it at all

Only when you noticed the blood on your clothes did you say with irritation that you had ruined your favorite sweater. Angel jumped up to you, worried about your wounds, but you didn't seem to feel the pain, which you soon informed him about. That's why Angel took you back to the hotel, where he treated your wounds. You told him that you had a CIP. You haven't felt pain since you were born, even when you were human, and even in Hell, the absence of pain has remained with you

Angel was surprised that for so long he didn't know that you don't feel pain at all. You had to pay attention to little things so as not to harm yourself, for example, be careful about hot dishes, because you might not notice how hot the soup could be or how hot the cup of coffee was. Angel listened attentively to you, surprised that he didn't notice it

Angel has become more attentive towards you. He didn't constantly take care of you, but sometimes he reminded you that the food or drink was hot, that you held the knife too close to your fingers, or that you were injured. Angel understood that even if you didn't feel pain, it didn't mean that the wounds didn't hurt you, which is why he tried to take care of you at least a little

📻 Alastor x Reader🎙

Alastor found out that you don't feel pain when he noticed that you returned to the hotel with an injured leg. You weren't even limping. You just went to your room like everything was completely normal. He didn't know any other reason for this. He went to your room with a first-aid kit and you did not hide from him either your own wound or the fact that you really did not feel pain

Alastor stayed in your room while you treated the wound on your leg. You told him that even when you were human, you didn't feel pain. You assumed that at least in Hell this would change, but it turned out not to be so. Because of this, you didn't notice the wounds you could get until you noticed the blood on your clothes

The origin of the scars on your skin was now clear. He understood that you probably got these scars in Hell. On your palms, hands, and obviously not only there. You really weren't very worried about your own health, and the lack of pain only made it harder for you to take care of yourself

Alastor understood that in Hell there was much less harm from this for you. Dying in Hell was much more difficult for a sinner than when you were alive, so Alastor didn't worry too much about you. He knew you'd be fine, but he still left a first-aid kit in your room in case you needed it

💀Rosie x Reader 🌹

You were a frequent guest at Rosie's and helped her with some problems at her store. You often stayed at her house for weeks at a time, but Rosie was only too happy to spend time with you. Sometimes you came in with wounds after fights, but Rosie was sure they weren't that serious, so you didn't pay attention to it. However, when you came in seriously injured but behaved as if everything was fine, she became worried

Rosie insistently asked you to sit down and brought a first aid kit. She was in no hurry to ask questions or jump to conclusions, primarily focusing on your wounds. You didn't make a sound when she was treating your wounds, which gave Rosie certain thoughts

You honestly told her that you didn't feel pain at all. Even before your death, you had CIP and you learned to live with it, but in Hell you became more relaxed and took much less care of your own health, which led to your injury. Rosie listened to you carefully, then gently stroked your hair and asked you to be careful

Rosie didn't want you to try. She knew that you tried to be more attentive to yourself and tried to avoid new wounds. You didn't want to upset Rosie and make her worry, which is why you tried not to put yourself in danger, not even realizing that Rosie was ready to show those who would harm you why she was overlord

🍎 Lucifer Morningstar x Reader 🐍

Lucifer knew perfectly well that you didn't feel pain. You've known each other for a long time and he often saw you after fights. You didn't pay attention to the wounds, just talked irritably about stained or torn clothes. You both knew that the lack of feeling pain had its own characteristics, so you made sure that the wounds were treated, and Lucifer made sure that no one dared to hurt you

Lucifer was much stronger than you, and when you were together, no one dared even try to look at you askance, but sometimes you got involved in fights, especially when it was the end of the year. You didn't want to hide, even though you knew you could have died. Every time Lucifer found out that you were fighting again, he watched, taking his time to intervene. It was only when he saw that you were seriously injured that he intervened

Lucifer sometimes offered to pick up personal guards for you, but you kept telling him that it wasn't necessary. Just because you didn't feel pain didn't mean you were reckless. You tried not to put yourself in excessive danger, realizing that even in Hell you could die

You didn't know how long you would be in Hell and whether it was possible to leave Hell at all, but while you were there you weren't going to let yourself die again, especially because you didn't notice any wound and Lucifer didn't mind helping you with it

🎪 Fizzarolli x Reader x Asmodeus 💕

In your relationship, Asmodeus has always tried to take care of Fizzarolli and you. He had sincere feelings for both of you, and you responded in kind, but if Fizzarolli really tried to be careful, then you got into trouble more often. They both saw the wounds healing on you, but you always said it was just a small accident and they had nothing to worry about. This went on until you returned with bloodstains on your clothes and serious wounds that you didn't pay attention to

They immediately rushed to you, both very worried. You convinced them that you were fine, but this time it was obviously not the case. Asmodeus treated your wounds, after which he seriously asked who did it. To his question, you smiled gently and said that they were much worse off than you, so you shouldn't have worried about it. However, there was something that did not escape their eyes. It's like you didn't feel the touch of your wounds

When Fizzarolli asked you if you were in pain, you were confused and said that you didn't feel any pain at all. You've had CIP and you've never felt pain in your entire life. There used to be problems because of this, but now you have learned to avoid serious problems, at least you tried

Asmodeus and Fizzarolli weren't going to leave you alone until your wounds were completely healed. They both surrounded you with care, worrying about you, to which you laughed softly and hugged them. Even in Hell, you were able to find those who gave you the warmth that warmed your heart and soul

[chahnniesroom]

hoju (home)

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: even though chan has been living in korea for so many years, he still considers australia to be home. when he finally has the opportunity to go back and visit, he can't wait to bring you along and introduce you to the people and places that he grew up with.

word count: 4.3k

warnings: none :)

a/n: hoju (호주) is the korean word for australia.

this was a request from my sweet 🦦 anon! thank you for the inspiration, i had fun writing this and i hope that it meets your expectations. sorry that i did not write this in chan's pov 😅 as usual, please let me know if there are any typos or mistakes because i didn't have the chance to proofread 🥲

read it on ao3 | masterlist

Chan has been acting strange lately. Not enough that you're worried, just a little bit suspicious. He's never tried to hide what tabs he has open on his phone before and he's looked deep in thought quite a few times, but when you ask what he's thinking of, he changes the topic quickly. You're curious, but trust that Chan will talk to you when he's ready. Still, you can't quite ignore all of the changes in behaviour.

It's the same tonight. When you look up during dinner, Chan's just stirring around the noodles in his plate, only taking a bite every so often. You frown, trying to think of if you've done anything differently to prepare the food in a way that he doesn't like, but it tastes the same to you as usual. You rule out a lack of appetite, as he had just commented that he was starving while you were cooking.

“Is everything okay?” you ask hesitantly, after a few more minutes have passed.

“What?” Chan looks up, startled by the sound of your voice. “Oh no, everything's fine! Just… thinking.”

“Is it about work? Did something happen?” You know that Chan has been busier than usual this month, the boys have some time off in a few weeks and everybody is scrambling to get things finished in the meantime. You've also requested vacation at work, although so far you and Chan haven't planned anything. In fact, he's been a little bit cagey when you've brought up the topic. You try not to think much of it and really, it's just nice to be able to spend extra time together.

Honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if Chan has found out that his break has been cut short or even cancelled. It's rare that they’re able to have more than a few days off at a time which is why you had been so shocked when Chan had let you know that they didn't have schedules for a period of almost three weeks.

It would provide an explanation to everything that you've observed the past few days, you know that he would try his best to fix things before he had to tell you the bad news.

“Well-”

“It's okay if you found out you can't take time off,” you reassure him. “I understand that it's all up to the company and sometimes they change their mind at the last minute. I can just let my work know and take my vacation another time, I'm sure they might even be happy if I'm still around next month.”

“No!” Chan says, his eyes wide in panic. “We still have time off! Don't worry about that. It's actually- How would you feel about visiting Australia with me?”

It's your turn to stare at Chan in shock.

“Australia?”

“Yeah, it's been a while since I went back and-” Chan breaks eye contact, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I thought it'd be nice if I could introduce you to my family, in person.”

“You want me to meet your family? In Australia?” you repeat, dumbly.

“Only if you feel comfortable!” Chan says hurriedly. “I looked into tickets, but didn't book anything yet so it's totally up to you. I also wanted to check if my family was available beforehand and it's pretty good timing actually. If you don't want to, then it's totally fine, I'll probably go for either way and I think Felix is also considering it. It's just that we've been together for a while now and I've met your family and I know that my mom basically considers you to be her daughter-”

“I want to go,” you interrupt, not wanting Chan to spiral further. “I was just surprised, I guess, but of course I want to accompany you.”

Chan brightens at that, then grabs his computer, unlocking it and opening up a spreadsheet. As it loads, he reaches for his chopsticks and takes a huge bite of food. You can't help but smile fondly at the sight of his cheeks bulging with food as he chews, relieved that his appetite is back.

“I didn’t want to get too far ahead of myself, but I was looking at flights, and I think that if we leave on a Tuesday, it might be best. It means we can enjoy the weekend here and still have time to pack everything,” he explains excitedly. “It'll be less busy at the airport too, which will be nice, and it works out well with my parents’ schedules anyway.”

You hum in acknowledgement, content to follow along and take mental notes as Chan reads out everything else that he's thought of so far. He continues planning for the rest of the evening, trailing behind you as you clean up and do your nightly routine, only stopping to help you when you do the dishes and put away the laundry. It's cute how animated he becomes, putting together a long list of all the sites and restaurants that he wants to show you.

You can tell that he's still thinking of it as the two of you curl up in bed that night, every so often you feel him jolt behind you and turn to reach for the little pad of paper and pencil that he often keeps on his nightstand.

Eventually, you turn over and squint at him. He doesn't even pretend to be asleep.

“Hi,” he whispers. “Sorry if I'm keeping you awake.”

“Sleep,” you murmur tiredly. “We have lots of time to plan, get some rest for now and we can talk more tomorrow.”

Chan starts to protest, but you just nuzzle closer, pulling his hands to wrap around you. As you drift off to sleep, you can feel that Chan has finally relaxed too.

—

The two of you spend the first day of break slowly, sleeping in and having a lazy meal of bibimbap from all the banchan taking up space in your fridge. You only venture out of the apartment for dinner, going to your favourite local restaurant that you visit so often that the owner starts making your meals the second that the two of you step through the door. The next couple of days are also easygoing, consisting of shopping, watching dramas, and eventually preparing for your trip.

Throughout the drive to the airport and making your way through security and to your gate, you can tell Chan's a bit on edge even though you and Felix try to assure him that everything will be fine. The three of you are in incognito mode, wearing hats, face masks, and plain clothes but Chan’s still scanning your surroundings the whole time. You, on the other hand, can't help but be excited, bouncing at his side so much that he loops his arm over your shoulders to try and calm you down. Felix is more relaxed and laughs at the stark contrast between the both of you, even filming parts of it since he’s getting footage for a vlog. Luckily you know that any content with you in it is likely to be edited out and don’t bother to hide your eagerness.

While Chan is used to travelling often for concerts and other overseas schedules, you've rarely visited places outside of Korea and have certainly never flown business class. You squeeze Chan's hand when you see your seats, thrilled at the idea of having so much leg room and a divider between the two of you that can also be fully lowered. It keeps you entertained for the whole time before the plane takes off, taking pictures together and reclining your seat up and down until the seatbelt sign turns on.

The flight is over 10 hours, so it doesn't take long before you move your attention to browsing the menu that's available and scrolling through all of the movies on the in-flight entertainment system. Shortly after the dinner meal is served, you start to doze off. Wanting to make the most of the experience, you insist to Chan that you'll be able to stay awake to watch another movie with him, but only make it through the first 30 minutes before you wake up to a dark screen.

You blink up blearily as a flight attendant starts making their way through the aisles, handing out customs forms for everyone to fill out. When you receive yours, you stare at it for a few seconds before realising the problem is not the fact that you're still adjusting to being awake.

“Oh no,” you whisper in horror, causing Chan to glance over at you, concerned.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I didn’t think about practising English before this trip,” you reply, distress leaking into your voice. “The last time that I wrote anything in English was when I was in secondary school… I'm not going to survive in Australia!”

“Hey, it's not an issue, I'll be with you the whole time! You don't have to worry about any of that. And you know enough conversational English to get by, I know you do,” Chan says soothingly.

You refuse to be comforted, burying your face into your hands.

“How am I going to face your parents when I barely know anything other than ‘hi, how are you?’” you moan. “I'm not even going to make it through customs! They're going to arrest me when I can't answer any of their questions!”

You know that you're exaggerating, but it makes Chan laugh so hard that tears gather in the corners of his eyes. You try to keep up your act, but end up dissolving into laughter too at the way that Chan is trying so hard to stay quiet, not wanting to bring attention to you two.

Contrary to your fears, you manage to deplane, get through customs, and collect your luggage without any major issues. You had a moment of anxiety when Chan and Felix split up from you since you have to go into the lineup for foreign passports, but you are somehow able to fumble your way through the conversation with the border officer without being detained.

Felix splits up with you shortly after, you see that his tiredness from the long flight melts away the second that he sees his family. He gives you and Chan both a quick hug to say goodbye before running out to meet them.

Chan lights up in a similar way when he finally spots his parents. They're waiting in the pick-up zone and waves the two of you over quickly. You barely get the chance to say hi before Chan’s mother is enveloping you into a hug.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she says warmly. “Come on, let’s take you home.”

The drive is fairly short and it feels like no time at all before you’re approaching the house. The second that the front door opens, you hear a distinctive scrabble of claws against hardwood before Berry shoots towards Chan, tail wagging furiously. Chan immediately kneels down to give her better access, laughing when she stands on her hind legs to lick at his face.

Once she’s finished with that, she turns to you, barking curiously before moving closer. You stick out a hand for her to get an idea of your scent and try not to jump when you feel the cool, damp press of her nose against your palm. Whatever Berry smells, she approves of, giving you a few quick licks before running back to Chan.

“She’s so cute!” you exclaim, pulling out your phone so that you can take a picture of the reunion. You don't think that Chan even hears you, caught up in talking to Berry, giving her kisses and allowing her to do the same.

“I'll help you with your bags,” Chan's father says from beside you, easily lifting them out of your hands and motioning for you to enter the house. You exchange greetings with both of Chan's siblings as you remove your shoes, familiar with them through video calls and the one time that you met Hannah when she was travelling in Korea.

Chan’s family recently moved so this was also Chan’s first time seeing the house in person, the two of you trailing behind Chan’s father as he gave you a brief tour of the first floor before leading you upstairs. When you get to the guest room that you'll be staying in, Hannah pops her head in.

“Chris doesn’t spend enough time in Australia to have his own room in this house, so you guys are in this room.” She eyes you for a moment and based on the mischievous smile that’s growing, you can guess what she’s about to say. “Y/n, if you get sick of him, then feel free to stay with me instead!”

“Hey!” Chan complains, not even looking up from where he’s unpacking his bag. He grabs onto one of his shirts and chucks it at Hannah, but she easily dodges, throwing one of her slippers at him in retaliation. It hits Chan right in the chest and he looks at her in disbelief. He abandons his task in favour of chasing her throughout the house. You don't follow after, but you hear as their yelling and laughter echoes through the halls.

It’s refreshing to see Chan at home, no matter how comfortable Chan is with the rest of the kids, he’s still the leader of the group and the oldest member and the dynamic of their relationship reflects that. Even though it has barely been a few hours, you’re relieved to find that Chan has left behind the stresses of being an idol and can instead just be a son and an older brother.

His parents are hilarious and kind, it’s easy to see how Chan’s personality is a reflection of the environment that he was raised in. During dinner, you laugh at the way Chan pouts dramatically when Chan’s father pretends to forget about Chan when serving the food and how he groans in pleasure when he finally gets to taste his mother's cooking after so long. Hannah and Lucas continually crack jokes as you eat, especially if they're at Chan's expense and he pretends that he doesn't find them funny.

—

One afternoon you find Chan fiddling with the camera that he’s brought with him. You step up behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Are you planning on filming tonight?” you ask, knowing that Chan was always careful to alert everyone in the house beforehand.

“Not today,” he replies. “Probably tomorrow, when I take out Berry for her morning walk. Did you want to join?”

“Of course!”

“I was thinking of going right after breakfast, before it gets too hot out,” he says as he pulls out the camera battery and fits it into the charger.

“Anywhere in particular you wanted to go?”

“Mmm, maybe by the water? There's a path that's not too far away. I don't want anything that's too close to the house, you know?”

“Good idea.”

“Are you planning on putting it into a vlog?” you ask curiously. "You haven't been filming much.”

"Actually…”

“What? You're making me nervous.”

“I was hoping to use it for a music video,” Chan says sheepishly.

“What?! I'm not qualified for that!! I can't- you need to find someone else-”

“No no, it's going to be fine! It's for a record, not like, an actual music video.”

“I don't know,” you say, still feeling hesitant.

“I promise, I'm going for the casual vibes and it's either you or like, my eomma, and I guarantee that you would do a better job.”

“Okay,” you say reluctantly. “But I can't guarantee it'll come out well.”

“Thank you! I know it'll be great,” Chan says, showering you with kisses in gratitude until you're squirming away.

—

The next morning, Chan’s parents are out, leaving all the kids to prepare food on their own. It's a little chaotic, but you manage to cobble together a decent meal. It's a lot of fun to see how Chan and his siblings interact without their parents around to mediate. You're amazed by how similar the three are, not only in appearance but also the way they behave.

Although much younger, Lucas shares a strong resemblance to Chan, especially once he smiles and shows off matching dimples. They quickly disappear once Chan reaches out and musses up his hair playfully as you’re all cleaning up.

“Chris, stop it,” he complains, pushing his older brother away before trying to fix the strands that are all over the place. It only encourages Chan to move closer, wrapping his arms around his brother and lifting him into the air. When trying to wiggle free doesn’t work, he turns pleading eyes to you, knowing Hannah wouldn't step in to help. “Noona! Get him to let me down!”

The two of you had been awkward the first time you had been left alone, it hadn’t helped that Lucas’ Korean could be considered conversational at best and your English was significantly worse, but you had quickly grown close through attempts to tease Chan. Now, it’s easy to treat him like the little brother you never had.

You approach quickly, trying to avoid Lucas’ flailing limbs, and reach out to poke at Chan’s waist. He twitches away from your touch and when you persist in prodding at all his ticklish spots, unwinds one of his arms to swat at your hand.

The distraction is enough for Lucas to break away and he quickly moves out of reach. Instead of chasing after him, Chan turns his focus to you. You back away nervously, but find yourself with nowhere to go. Chan grabs you and easily slings you over your shoulder, ignoring your shrieks of protest.

“Betrayed by my own girlfriend? I should have known that introducing you to my siblings would just be asking for trouble,” he growls in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You look to see if his siblings are going to rescue you, but they must be trying to avoid Chan's wrath as you don't see either of them as Chan brings you up to the guest room.

“I am enlisting your help,” he says casually, as if he wasn't carrying you up a flight of stairs and dropping you on the bed. “I would like your advice on what to wear for Berry's walk.”

“Ooh,” you say. “Very important business then, I'm honoured that you would ask me.”

It doesn't actually take much time to get ready, the two of you change into clothes for the heat and you just have to convince Chan that he doesn't have to try to do his hair or makeup. The second that you mention to Berry that you're going for a walk, her tail starts wagging non-stop and she even fetches her leash and drops it in front of you.

Chan doesn't give you much direction for filming, just hands you the camera and tells you to capture whatever you want. The two of you walk hand in hand through the neighbourhood, Berry happily exploring the area. As you get further away from the house, you let go of Chan, motioning for him to continue walking as you turn on the camera and get used to it.

By the time you've reached the waterfront, you're feeling more confident and have a better idea of what you like. You try out different angles, feeling a little bit like paparazzi, and after a few minutes, even try directing Chan too. You let him keep going, wanting to see how far away he'll go before he realises that you're not following. He's almost a block away before he turns back.

“You’re smiling, did it come out okay?” Chan asks as he jogs back towards you.

“Yeah, it was great! I was just thinking that Stay are going to go crazy over this,” you tell him.

“They do really like it whenever they get to see Berry,” he says thoughtfully, picking her up and scratching her head. You burst out laughing at that and Chan frowns in response and goes as far as to cover Berry’s ears, insulted on her behalf. “What? Don’t laugh at that, it’s true! Berry is just so cute.”

“I’m not saying that they don’t like Berry, of course they do. I was more referring to the fact that the video is… domestic. Very boyfriend.”

“Ooh you think that's what Stay are interested in?” he asks. “What about this?”

He gestures for you to lift up the camera, and once you're recording, grabs your hand to pull you along behind him. You let out a small noise of surprise as he tugs on your arm, struggling slightly to keep everything steady and ensure your hand is out of frame. At your sound, Chan looks back slightly and bursts into laughter.

“So concentrated, you’re so cute,” he giggles.

“Of course,” you grumble. “I want it to turn out nice.”

“Thank you,” Chan says sincerely, no traces of laughter in his voice. “I really do appreciate it a lot that you're helping me with work even though we're on vacation.”

“Hmm,” you say, turning away from him. “You're just glad that you didn't have to ask Hannah, because she would make fun of you the whole time.”

“That's not true! I mean, it is true that Hannah would do that, but that's not the only reason.” Chan uses your connected hands and pulls you close. “I also wanted to spend time with my favourite person in the whole world.”

“You're lucky I love you so much,” you sniff, still pretending to be annoyed even though you've practically melted into Chan's hug. “Now stop getting distracted, I thought it would look nice if you walked along the sand and there's nobody there right now.”

—

The rest of your time in Sydney is a whirlwind of activities. Chan is determined to take you to all his favourite places in the city and you eat more food than you thought possible. Chan’s family, and sometimes Felix and his family, accompanies you two for a majority of the outings and your initial hesitance interacting with them is replaced by fondness, eased by the way that they treat you like one of their own.

You even have a chance to meet some of Chan’s childhood friends, ones that he kept close with despite the long distance. It feels strange to eat dinner with them. Although they do their best to make you feel welcome, they have a lot of history together and you find yourself struggling to keep up with their conversation, not just because of the language barrier but due to references to people, places, and events that you're unfamiliar with. Regardless, you're glad to finally know the people that Chan grew up with and you love seeing how happy Chan is to be reunited with them.

It’s also nice that while you're meeting so many people, you don't have to hide your relationship at all. In Korea, you and Chan are more careful in public. It’s not totally a secret that you’re dating, but you are more on the cautious side due to the popularity of Stray Kids and inevitable scrutiny from fans. In Australia, Chan has no such reservations, excitedly introducing you as his girlfriend to everyone. It never fails to make you blush, feeling shy, but secretly pleased.

Wherever you go, Chan keeps you close to his side, linking your hands or looping an arm around your shoulders. Throughout the day, he presses kisses to your head or cheek. The first time he does it, you look up at him questioningly. He just shrugs, saying that he’s happy and well, you can’t argue with that.

You don’t want your vacation to end and you know you're not the only one. You and Chan have both procrastinated packing your luggage until the last possible moment, and when you finally do begin, Berry seems to sense it. She starts hiding all of your things- Chan's family members finding them lodged in one of the couch cushions or in her dog bed- and curling up inside your suitcase, making it practically impossible to continue packing.

When Chan enters your shared room and pauses when he sees you staring into the suitcase helplessly. You wave him over so that he can look inside.

“She’s too cute! Look at that little face, how could you disturb her?” you ask.

Chan has no such reservations. He reaches in and gently lifts Berry out, cradling her against his chest so that she can’t jump back in.

“Berry, do you want to come to Korea with us?” he asks patiently. When she licks at his face in reply, he groans and pretends to lower her back into the suitcase. “Ah, I guess we have no choice but to bring you! I think we can sneak you in with the rest of the souvenirs that we’re taking with us.”

Despite Chan’s promises, Berry ends up staying behind, not even joining you on the drive to the airport. You’re lucky that you decide to leave well before your flight is expected to depart as you end up taking almost half an hour saying goodbye to everybody.

You know that you’re going to treasure these memories for a long time and you’re certain that Chan will too. It’s amazing that even though you were only in Australia for a couple weeks, it already feels like a second home.

read it on ao3 | masterlist

[sevikasfuckdoll]

Nights like this...

Imagine coming home late at night to Sevika

>>>>>>>>>>

12:39am (Sevika)

- I'm home, honey

- Where are you?

- Why aren't you home yet?

12:47am (You)

- Oh, sorry baby, I forgot to update. I might come home a little late tonight. My boss is making me work over time.

12:50am (Sevika)

- He can't do that.

- I want you homeee

- I'm gonna kill your boss.

12:51am (You)

- I know baby, but he really needs me.

- But don't worry, I'll come home as soon as possible. I just have to finish a couple things.

- If you're tired for work, I understand, you can sleep now, and I'll just cuddle you when I get home. I have my keys anyway ❤️

12:55am (Sevika)

- No. I'll wait for you baby, okay? What do you wanna eat?

12:57am (You)

- Oh, Sevvy bear, no need. I just need you cuddled up in bed with me when I get home.

12:59am (Sevika)

- Bullshit. You want chinese?

1:01am (You)

- Yes please.

>>>>>>>>>>>

You finally get to go home, but you drive by a near gasoline station to buy some beverages for you and your wife.

*Click* You send here a selfie of you waiting in line with the six-pack you bought for you and Sevika to share.

2:12am (You)

- Sent a photo.

2:14am (Sevika)

- Sent a photo.

- Date night?

Sevika had sent a photo back of her with the food she bought that had just arrived a couple minutes prior.

2:17am (You)

- You better not start eating without me

- 👹

2:18am (Sevika)

- Of course not, silly girl. This is for me AND my wife, after all. ❤️

2:21am (You)

- Aww, shucks.

- Just wait a bit, I'm driving back home

2:22am (Sevika)

- ❤️

>>>>>>>>>>>

You pull up to the drive way, and make your way to the door. You grab your keys, and open the door to see your wife waiting for you on the couch watching your favourite show. "Ugh, Sevika, you better not start watching ahead of me!!!" You say, childishly. She chuckles, and walks up to you, giving you a peck on the forehead. "Not, just catching up. Missed you." You look to the floor, trying to hide your blush from your wife, but you know she could see right though you. "I missed you too, babe" You say, grabbing her hand, and kissing her knuckles.

You take off your shoes, and your bra to come sit next to your wife on the couch as she motions you to. "Come, eat with me, honey." She says, as she opens a beer, and hands a spoon to you. "God, I've been starving all day!" You say, stretching your arm, and finally digging in.

You guys sit there for a while enjoying the meal, and the show you guys watch. You finally finish your food, and cuddle up next to Sevika. 2 beers in, and you already feel a little buzzed, probably because you're stressed all.day, and sleepy, or maybe your alcohol tolerance have just gotten weaker over the years. But you feel a sense of calmness, as you feel Sevika's body pressed onto yours. She's truly yours, and you're truly hers. All hers.

"Hmm, how was work, babe?" You ask her. "The usual. Except,—tsk, Silco asked me to braid Jinx's hair earlier. Man can't do shit himself sometimes. Threatened him I'd quit, and he shut up bout it." She laughs, while she's reminiscing about earlier events. "What bout you, baby?" She asks back, as she caresses your face, and gives you a kiss on the nose. "Hmm, nothing much, just a lot of work. A coworker asked me to share drinks with her right before I was about to get off my shift." You laugh, telling her about your silly coworker. She didn't find it all too silly, though. She raised an eyebrow at you "Oh? What'd you say" She asked, skeptically. "Oh, I told her 'my wife is waiting for me at home' heh. I know how much my wife lives my undivided love and attention once in a while, right?" You boop her, and kiss her teasingly. "Hmph—Damn right I do." She says proudly, and she kisses you back.

One thing led to another, you start heavily making out on the couch like a bunch of horny teenagers, and she slides a hand up your shirt. You smile at the kiss, and pull back. "As much as I love where this is going—" You check your watch. "It's now 3:40 in the morning." Your remind her with a little chuckle. "But we don't have work tomorrow!!!" She rather childishly. You both giggle at each other, and stick to leaving pecks, and kisses to eachothers' faces. "You wanna sleep like this?" She asks noticing you slowly start to drift to sleep. "Hmm, as long as I'm on top of you, we could be at a park bench for all I care" You smile, with your eyes closed, already ready to fall asleep. She chuckles and kisses your hair, and she gets a blanket, and pulls it over the both of you. "Goodnight, baby." She says, kissing your head once more. "G'night. I lub you" You murmur to her chest

"I love you more, my princess. Have a good rest."

>>>>>>>>>>

I AM NOT A WRITER!!!

Hope I did well for my first time, I wrote this 3 hours ago, and I spent the whole time after debating on whether I should post or not.

If y'all ask, I'll probably do more. I'm just testing out the waters if I'm cut out for this or not

This is my first ever fic, please be nice 😔✊️

[fun-k-board]

Happy New Year!! 🎉

If it's alright, could I request Loki Headcanons about a Shy Lover or Secret Admirer? I imagine something like that wouldn't stay secret for long, knowing Loki, but I love the idea of the Lover in question being flustered beyond belief at being found out 💕

MARVEL RIVALS - LOKI LAUFEYSON With a Shy Secret Admirer Headcanons!

Note(s): I'm sorry this came out a bit late, college stressed me out so bad my body and mind did a factory reset. I'll be trying to finish the rest of my requests weekly.

"Oh?" Loki's eyes are light, something unusual for the trickster. Almost eager, they flick between you and the paper that's held loosely in his hand, the usual hint of amusement in his upturned lips. "You wrote these? Well, I can't say I'm not flattered, but you are aware I've been courting you for quite some time, yes?"

You and Loki would most likely know each other prior to you becoming his secret admirer, after all, he is a bit of a flirt and you're most likely one of many that he's charmed over the years. But, for him to accept your proposal, which is how I intend to write this as to avoid angst, he would need to reciprocate your feelings. In short, he'd probably be actively courting you while you do this.

It'd mostly be insignificant things, not killing you, maybe paying you a compliment every now and then, and maybe, just maybe, if he's feeling generous he'll find it in his heart to give you a gift. Typically it's jewellery, something that reflects him, gold with green jewels are his favourite. Necklaces are a no brainer, they're so easy to spot, and it's so easy to tell who it's from, too (You'll be lucky if he doesn't engrave his name on the damn thing).

Of course, he loves to tease you. It's so fun to see you squirm and try to hide away, even if he can't see the effect of the blood rushing there, he likes to hold a hand to your face every now and then to see if it's hot. One of his favourites is to whisper plans of mischief, and maybe try and get you to tag along in his next prank or attempt to steal the throne, it depends on his mood, really.

Infuriatingly, however, you don't seem to pick up on his obvious flirtations. He immediately decides that's an issue on your part, but he'll indulge you and give an extra flirty, witty remark every now and then. Wait- you're still not- oh you frustrate him endlessly! He's got half a mind to smite you, you know!

The thing is, Loki enjoys a good mystery and a thrilling hunt, but what he wants most of all is to be adored, worshiped, have thousands at his feet begging and pleading just for him to spare them a glance. So, when he starts getting little trinkets wrapped in bows, with papers written full of heartfelt devotion... Well, how can a God refuse such wonderful praise?

It's around that time of annoyance and pining, his stubbornness refusing to allow him to confess first, you must make the first move as it's obviously you who is obsessed with him, that he actually begins to receive your gifts. In such random places too, sometimes even tucked in the pocket of his clothes! Not that he doesn't admire the bravery to do such a thing.

At first he doesn't really look deep into it, he's content to find the very obviously placed gifts and doesn't care much for where they're found. As long as he's getting the attention he rightfully deserves, he doesn't care who it's from. Why should he need to know who loves him when he's being loved either way?

But, when he does want to find out this secret admirer's identity, perhaps in a ploy to make you jealous and confess, it's when he realises that it's you. The handwriting, the way of speaking, grammar, punctuation, and the nail in the coffin is when he catches you placing a note in his quarters while invisible.

This works out brilliantly.

Not only does it confirm in Loki's mind that you're utterly infatuated and obsessed with him, but it makes him believe that you were secretly aware of his courting all along. That you, given your shy nature, had done this to play into his trickster personality. He can't say he isn't impressed by your wits! (Someone please get him a reality check...)

Naturally, Loki plans something sweet yet embarrassing for his your confession, and despite his want for love and attention, he supposes that he'll make it a private affair. After all, he does want you to admit your love for him and giving you a panic attack would probably only drive you away.

The gardens are certainly beautiful this time of day, not bright enough to burn your eyes but not dark enough so you can't see, it's perfect. Not to mention quiet. Many people prefer to admire the gardens after their meals, either in the morning or in the night, but strangely never the evening, which leaves you by yourself. It's peaceful.

Yet the peace, as usual, is interrupted by a certain prince.

You turn around when you hear your name being called, your brows shooting upwards when you realise it's Loki. What could he need? Is he planning another prank? No matter, either way you're clearly involved. So, you wave a friendly hand and hope that you can ignore the sickly butterflies in your stomach that flutter harder when the sound of his shoes click closer and closer towards you.

"I want to speak with you." Loki hums, coming to a halt only a meter away from you.

You ask what he wants to speak with you about and he searches in his pocket for a moment until he finds a small piece of paper, holding it out in his palm almost like an offering. It looks familiar. Hesitant, you feel your fingers pinch a corner and take it for yourself, dread setting in your stomach as you realise. He figured it out.

When you look up sharply to explain, his face is inches from yours. The action causes your cheeks to get unbelievably hot, and even if the blood rushing to your face isn't visible, Loki knows you, he knows your tells. "I admire your worship, darling." He whispers, eyes narrowing as a sly grin grows on his lips. "But I would prefer it to be in person."

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm so sorry to everyone that I freaked out with the last post, I was trying so hard not to 😭 I have that like instant fear as soon as I see "we need to talk" or something in the same vein. I always think it's something bad.

This isn't bad, at least depending on how your perspective I guess.

So...I'm having thoughts about CRCB in October. I planned out posting schedules for Kyletober and CRCB and my Patreon stuff and it's going to basically be a post every day, sometimes multiple in multiple places.

That's a lot.

So, I am set on doing Kyletober since all of the fics are already written, but I was planning on continuing CRCB during October as well. But...I think I need a little break from CRCB. It's been about eight months of posting almost every single week and it's been a lot. I'm struggling with chapters right now and with work it's vastly limiting the time I have to write and focus on things and I'm kind of burning out right now.

So, what I wanted to discuss was potentially putting CRCB on hold for October while I focus on Kyletober and everything involved with that. Trying to do both is a lot and I'm not sure I can handle all of it, plus life, plus work.

I was planning on not necessarily putting CRCB on hold, but doing more of a "whenever I can/am inspired" random posting chapters kind of like I did in the beginning when I first started writing the fic, in November/December because those are very busy months and I will be dead tired from work and just general life.

I think I might still do that for November/December and possibly into the new year since there's no way the fic will be finished even if I posted every week until the end of December.

BUT

That's something I'll think about and make a decision on later.

Right now, my thought is...would you hate me if I put CRCB on pause in October? IF I do, I promise I won't end Chapter 39 on a cliffhanger. I wasn't planning on it anyway, but I promise I won't end it on a cliffhanger if I decide not to post any chapters in October.

That way if I do put it on pause, then I can not focus on it for a bit and give my brain a refresh, and I can also focus all my energy on Kyletober.

So yeah, it's going to be a lot doing both at the same time, and honestly I'm ready for a little break from CRCB. It's been going for a long time and it's a lot of words to get out in a week. I've been super stressed lately and I'm just struggling a lot trying to get through chapters.

So yeah. That's basically the dilemma here and the discussion to be had. I know y'all will tell me it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I would like opinions on it. Are y'all okay with me putting CRCB on hold to focus on Kyletober? Then pick it back up for probably just whenever I can chapter updates for the rest of the year? In January things will calm down and I'll have more time to relax and write and maybe get close to finishing the story. Plus I know a lot of my readers will be busy the next three months with the holidays and vacations and family and school and all of that, so you won't have to worry about getting behind and having to catch up with a bunch of chapters.

So...let me know...

[nakylvr]

— GROUNDED

park sohyun (triples) x fem!reader

summary: helping sohyun with producing a song in the late hours of the night

warnings/tags: established relationship, fluff, i have no fucking idea how to make music this is probably so off but whatever, wlw,

"do you not get bored doing this all the time?"

sohyun turns her gaze away from the screen to you sitting on the bed behind her, and she shakes her head, pushing her glasses up her nose. "no, not really," she answers.

getting up off the bed, you stop behind her and wrap your arms around her shoulders, resting your chin on her shoulder. "even though you've been doing it for years?" you question, pushing some of her hair out of her face.

"i enjoy it," sohyun responds, instinctively leaning into your touch. "plus, it's kinda my job."

you hum, nodding your head and looking at the laptop screen. "what are you working on right now?"

"a song for the new album," she replied. "i'm struggling a bit, though." she admits, taking her glasses off and rubs her eyes with her hand.

"really?" you let out, a bit surprised by her words. "is it difficult?"

"sometimes," sohyun nods her head. "it's easy most of the time, but there are times when it's hard like this."

you hum again, looking at the screen in front of you both before glancing at sohyun. "you want some help?" you say.

"hm?" she looks over at you with subtle confusion on her face, putting her glasses back on. "i should be fine, you should get some sleep. i'll probably be up for a while."

"you don't seem fine," you respond, poking her cheek gently. "i know i can't be that much help, but you seem more tired than me right now. if anything, just let me sit here with you."

it takes sohyun a moment to respond, processing your words knowing it's the truth. but, she didn't want to admit how tired she was. "okay," she eventually says, nodding her head.

a smile is instantly brought to your face when she responds, and you walk around the chair to sit on her lap which you can tell surprises her by how her breathing hitches for a second. a second later she wraps her arms around your waist and sits her chin on your shoulder, looking at the screen again. she plays the beginning of the song, and the same beat is heard through the room again for the hundredth time since she started hours ago, and stops it at a certain part, pressing a few keys and dragging a couple things to the track.

"tell me if this sounds reasonably okay," sohyun says to you before pressing play on the beginning again.

the song starts playing again, and you can hear a bit of a difference in it before it gets to the next part that she was struggling with, and when it finishes you nod your head. "it sounds really good," you tell her.

"you think?" she questions.

you look over at her and can see the uneasy look on her face, and you nod your head again, cupping her face in your hands. "it sounds great, seriously. you need to stop stressing so much about this. you're amazing at making music, and you've been doing it for years, it's not like the company is going to disregard you if you make one song they don't like. yes, it's your job. but you're so good at it, you need to stop worrying about if it's good or not. they all are and they always will be," you say to her.

it takes another minute or two for sohyun to even think of a response to your words. she knows it's true, that she worries too much that the songs won't be good enough to be put on albums or will be thrown in the trash if it isn't liked by the company. but, it's never something she wanted to admit even though it was obvious. "thank you," she murmurs quietly in response.

"don't thank me," you shake your head. "i just don't want you to get burnt out from this, okay?"

sohyun nods her head, her hands moving from the keyboard to your waist as she looks up at you. "okay," she says. she leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away. "we should go to sleep."

"oh, so now you want to sleep," you giggle lightly at her suddenly wanting to sleep.

"mm," she hums, nodding her head again. "yeah, i think my time is better spent with you than stressing over a song," she replies with a smile forming on her face.

"wow," you let out, a wide smile on your face at her words. "all i have to do is give some praise and suddenly you talk like this?" you tease.

"more too, if you want that," she says, leaning forward and kissing you again.

[mbruben-stein]

I fucking love your work

And can you make a TMNT 2012 Leo x Chubby/Curvy Reader?

I love your TMNT work God bless you sweetie🤗💕

I love you the way you are.

TMNT 2012 Leo x chubby/curvy reader.

A/N: I was having a little bit of trouble riding this one. I was just stuck on writers block for a while. I hope everyone enjoys what I write. Have a lovely day everyone and remember that there's always going to be someone that loves you the way you are.

You sigh as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, pinching the soft flesh around your waist. No matter how much you work out and eat healthy, you can never seem to lose the curves and extra weight. Sometimes you feel insecure about your body, wishing you had a lean, slender figure like April or Karai.

As much as you try not to let it get to you, the negative thoughts creep in more and more lately. It doesn't help that you have a huge crush on Leonardo - strong, disciplined, heroic Leo. You're sure he would never be attracted to someone with a body like yours. He probably goes for fit, athletic girls who can keep up with his intense training.

Feeling discouraged, you throw on some loose clothes and head over to the lair to hang out with the turtles like you do most days. You've been close friends with them ever since they saved you from some Purple Dragon gang members a year ago. Although you adore all four brothers, you find yourself most drawn to Leo and his sense of honor and leadership. You try to hide your feelings, not wanting to risk your friendship or face inevitable rejection.

When you arrive at the lair, Mikey bounces over to greet you. "Y/N! Check out this new pizza recipe I invented - pepperoni, jelly beans and garlic! I call it the Mikey Surprise!"

You laugh and pat his shell. "That sounds...interesting Mikey. Maybe I'll try it later." You scan the room and spot Leo practicing katas off to the side. He notices you and gives a quick smile and wave before resuming his focused movements with his katana blades. Your heartbeat quickens at the mere sight of him.

"Whatcha staring at, Y/N?" Raph teases, plopping down on the couch. "Could it be our fearless leader over there?"

You feel your cheeks redden. "What? No! I was just spacing out. Not staring at anyone in particular."

Donnie looks up from the gadget he's tinkering with, raising an eye ridge. "Uh huh, sure." He exchanges a knowing glance with Raph.

Wanting to change the subject, you ask, "So what's the plan for today guys? Any missions to foil the Foot or Kraang?"

"Nah, it's been pretty quiet," Raph says. "Probably just training and patrolling later."

As if on cue, Leo finishes his katas and strides over to the group. "We'll head out in a few hours to scout the city. There's been reports of increased Purple Dragon activity by the docks we should check out." His ocean blue eyes turn to you. "Y/N, you're welcome to come if you'd like. We could always use an extra set of eyes. And I know you can handle yourself in a fight if needed."

Your eyes widen in surprise. Leo has never invited you on a patrol before. "Really? You'd want me to come with you guys?"

"Of course," Leo says warmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You're part of the team."

You beam at him, heart fluttering at his touch. "I'd love to come! Thanks Leo!" You try to sound casual and not too eager.

The next couple hours pass quickly as you all eat pizza, joke around, and watch Mikey and Raph thumb wrestle. Soon it's time to head up to the surface. The turtles gather their gear and you all climb out of the sewer into the dark city night.

You follow the brothers as they sprint and leap across the rooftops with ease. Even with all the training they've given you, you still struggle to keep pace with their mutant speed and strength. Not to mention your curvy body feels cumbersome and heavy as you try to gracefully jump from building to building like they do.

After a few minutes, you need to pause to catch your breath. "You guys go on ahead," you pant, waving them on. "I'll catch up in a sec."

Leo frowns and hangs back as his brothers continue forward. "You okay, Y/N? We can take a break if you need to."

You force a smile, not wanting to slow him down. "I'm fine, Leo. Just go with the others. I know I can't keep up with you guys."

He shakes his head. "I'm not leaving you behind. Here, climb on my back. I'll carry you the rest of the way."

You hesitate, self-conscious about your weight. "Are you sure? I'm probably too heavy..."

Leo gives you a look. "Y/N, you're not too heavy. It's no problem, I promise. Now hop on before the guys get too far ahead of us and Raph starts calling me Lame-o-nardo again."

Biting your lip, you walk over and carefully climb onto his shell, wrapping your arms and legs around him from behind. He easily hoists you up and takes off running, not showing any strain from your added size.

"Is this okay?" you ask meekly, convinced you must be crushing him.

Leo cranes his neck to give you a reassuring smile over his shoulder. "You're perfect, Y/N. I've got you."

Something about the way he says that makes your stomach flutter. You rest your head against his shoulder and allow yourself to relax as he carries you across the rooftops. Being this close to him feels amazing.

After a couple minutes, you catch up to where the others have stopped on a ledge overlooking the docks. Leo gently lowers you to the ground. You immediately miss his touch but try to focus on the mission.

"What do you see?" Leo asks his brothers.

Donnie peers through the scope on his goggles. "Looks like your typical Purple Dragon deal going down. I count maybe a dozen of them and...is that Hun? I thought he was still locked up!"

Raph cracks his knuckles. "Not anymore it seems. And it looks like he brought backup." He points to several black vans pulling up.

"Foot soldiers," Leo says grimly as the doors open to reveal Shredder's men piling out. "Just what we need. A Purple Dragon and Foot team-up."

You look at Leo in concern. "What's the plan, Chief?"

His brow furrows in thought before he nods decisively. "We go in quick and quiet. Take out as many as we can before they sound the alarm. Don, Mikey, you guys handle the Purple Dragons. Raph and I will deal with the Foot. Y/N, I want you to stay up here and keep watch. Let us know if any more show up. We'll regroup once it's clear."

You frown slightly, wondering if he just wants you to stay back because you'd get in the way with your lack of ninja skills. But you know he's just trying to keep you safe, so you agree.

"Got it. Be careful down there guys." You give Leo's hand a quick squeeze. He returns it before signaling his brothers forward.

You crouch on the ledge and observe as the four ninja turtles silently take out the guards and make their way through the shadows. It never fails to impress you seeing them in action.

Things seem to be going smoothly until you notice another black van pull up and even more Foot ninjas spill out. "Guys, heads up! Reinforcements incoming!" you say into your T-phone.

On the ground, you see Raph groan. "Aw shell, not again."

The new wave of Foot rush to aid their comrades, turning the battle into an all out brawl. You wince as you watch the turtles begin to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies surrounding them.

Suddenly, you notice Leo get knocked back by a powerful punch from a hulking Foot ninja. The brute raises his sword to deliver a finishing blow while Leo is dazed...

Without thinking, you leap off the ledge and land shell-first on the Foot soldier, knocking him to the ground. You roll to your feet in front of Leo protectively. "Stay away from him!"

The Foot ninja rises and growls at you, but you stand your ground. As he lunges, you sidestep and use your lowered center of gravity to grab his arm and flip him over your shoulder, slamming him hard into the concrete.

Leo stares at you in awe. "Y/N! That was amazing!" He seems to notice your fierce protectiveness of him and smiles softly.

You help him to his feet, blushing. "I couldn't let him hurt you. Now let's finish this!"

Side by side, you and Leo rejoin the fight. It feels so natural, moving in sync with him as you take down Foot ninja after Foot ninja. Your curves make you surprisingly agile and powerful.

With your added help, the turtles manage to beat back the Purple Dragons and Foot clan, sending them retreating into the night. You all cheer and high five in victory.

"That was so cool how you just jumped in like that, Y/N!" Mikey says excitedly. "You were all fierce and BOOYAKASHA!"

"Our girl's got some moves!" Raph agrees, giving you a fist bump. Donnie pats your back proudly.

You smile shyly at the praise. Your eyes find Leo's and he is gazing at you with open admiration. "Y/N, you were incredible. Thank you for having my back. You're a true part of this team."

Your heart soars at his words. "I'll always have your back, Leo," you say sincerely.

On the way back to the lair, Leo insists on carrying you again, even though you aren't tired. Not that you're complaining. Being held in his strong arms is something you could get very used to.

When he sets you down in the lair, he keeps his hands resting on your waist. "What you did tonight... it showed me a side of you I've never seen before. Your strength, your bravery, how you didn't hesitate to protect me."

He looks deep into your eyes. "Y/N, I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now. The reason I get so protective of you is because...I care about you. As more than a friend. I have feelings for you. Strong feelings."

You stop breathing. Is this really happening? "You do? But why? I mean, look at me..." You gesture helplessly at your curvy figure.

Leo cups your face tenderly. "I am looking at you. And I see a beautiful, courageous, amazing woman. Your body is perfect the way it is. Soft and strong. I love your curves." His thumbs stroke your full cheeks. "I love every inch of you, inside and out. And if you'll have me, I promise to show you just how much every single day."

Tears fill your eyes at his heartfelt declaration. "Oh Leo... I feel the same way! I've always loved you!"

Beaming, Leo pulls you flush against him, your soft chest cushioning his hard plastron. "Yeah?"

You nod shyly and he grins. "Then allow me to make up for lost time..."

He leans in and captures your mouth in a passionate, loving kiss. You melt into his embrace, finally feeling fully accepted and cherished exactly as you are.

In Leo's arms, with him kissing you like you're his whole world, all your insecurities fade away. He loves you, curves and all.

[dzibann]

Happy Holidays!!!1!1!!

Probably gonna make one for the girls and the psikickers.

I was planning and actually making a comic instead of this but I couldn't find motivation to keep going with it, maybe sometime next year when I actually finish it I'll post it, but yeah. My last post was part of it btw.

Anyways, merry (late) christmas and happy new year!

[tragedybunny]

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor. 

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring. 

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly. 

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic. 

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it. 

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,”  a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories. 

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go. 

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him. 

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep. 

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.” 

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown.  Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal. 

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?” 

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.” 

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.” 

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.” 

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with. 

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous. 

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp. 

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger. 

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known. 

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy. 

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you. 

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you. 

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.” 

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant. 

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation. 

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…” 

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize. 

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization. 

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.” 

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious. 

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation. 

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug. 

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life. 

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.” 

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-” 

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.” 

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement. 

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing. 

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping  through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.” 

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal. 

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”. 

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly. 

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll. 

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience. 

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.  

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.” 

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.” 

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away. 

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.” 

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf. 

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.” 

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.” 

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire. 

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.” 

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.” 

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.” 

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him. 

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor. 

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.” 

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room. 

“Finally,” Astarion huffs. 

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door. 

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.” 

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.” 

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love. 

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity

Tag list, DM to be added:

 @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx

@lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby

@satanicspinosaurus

[ddejavvu]

this is just a readout of my inner thoughts towards writing at the moment, it's not a declaration of change to come and it's not a withdrawal from tumblr, it's literally just me letting you know how writing is working for me right now:

i do enjoy writing shortform content like blurbs/drabbles, but after writing 2 a day for 2 years, I'm a bit burnt out on that posting schedule. i knew that i was going to stop pushing myself that hard because it was impossible with my work and school schedule, however lately it's been hard for me to get any out at all. i write them when i can, but oftentimes I can't, and that does not by any means mean that I'm 'quitting', or 'going on hiatus', it just means that some days are better than others; some days i will write and some days i won't be able to. aside from that, my interests have veered strongly into longform content, like series or long fics. of course, those take much longer to write, and do not possess the instant gratification of shortform content like blurbs, which I do appreciate because it helps motivate me to write more. this means that I'm highly motivated to write a series (i have several thought out, though i'm only working on one at a time (spring fling)), however, in order to keep up my presence on this blog, and cater to those who aren't interested in whatever series i'm working on, i want to keep up with my shortform content as well. that is where my problem arises. i don't want to devote all of my energy into a longer piece, ex. disappear for nine months and then come back with a finished series, it would break my heart to be absent for that long. i also don't have enough writing time in my schedule to split it even close to evenly between short and longform content. short usually wins out because of the instant gratification component; i think 'well, let me just get a few blurbs written and queued to keep up with my blog, then while those are being posted I'll have time to write more of __ series'. spoiler alert, that never happens. it takes me so long to write the blurbs that i never get any series writing done, or i don't have writing time again until after the blurbs have long since been posted and everyone is waiting for more again.

i am truly grateful for my readers and i would never want to insinuate that this is a negative thing; i am honored beyond words that you wait for my writing. i only want to be honest with you as to why you may have to wait for my writing. if i don't write blurbs for several days, it's probably because i'm working on a chapter for a series. if i'm writing a lot of blurbs, know that that was my writing time for the day and that you may have to wait for the next chapter of my series. please just understand that, even though i want to, i don't have all the writing time in the world. nothing is forgotten, nothing will rot away and die in my drafts, i am working on everything. i just can't do two things at once, and I struggle to find a good balance for my writing efforts that works best for my blog.

i wanted to say this to answer any questions you might have for me like 'when is the next chapter of spring fling coming out?' or 'when will we see more james content?' or 'when will my anakin request be posted?'. i don't know. everything is a balance and sometimes I have to choose between writing one thing and writing another. i will write what i write when i write it, and rest assured everything will be written. i ask for patience from you as i try managing my time to best suit both your interests and my own.

[darkpuppysuit]

🎀Tie up the ends of a Dream🎀

Pairing: CountryBoy!KimTaehyungxCurvy!Reader

Warnings: Domestic Abuse, cursing, smoking, fighting (verbal and physical) Mature themes, MDNI.

Words: 5.2k

A/N: I'm giving minor characters names. I'm sorry if you don't like that but it makes my brain do the burr if I don't. Also I hope you guys really like this because it's been stuck in my head all damn day lol. I'll probably write a part two for this considering where I left off....

Taehyung is a young man living in a trailer on a half acre of land the little old lady at the farm next door let him occupy for free until he got on his feet when she saw him in an alleyway practically begging on the streets.

He was small and skinny at the time, no meat on his bones, his cheeks looked a little sunken in too. So the old lady asked him if he wanted a job and a place to call home. Of course Taehyung accepted her offer with no hesitation, anything to get him out of the cold.

He started working the following spring when calf season started late March to early April. He helped Barbra by doing all of the manual labor for her. Scraping out the barn once or twice a day, he actually learned how to drive by taking hay out to the cows out in the field and when he turned sixteen the nice lady took him to get his drivers license and he passed, barely, but he passed and that was the end goal.

By the time Taehyung had turned eighteen Barbra had gifted him the old Ford truck her late husband had in the shed. She told him that if he could fix it and use his own money for the parts then he could have it and sure enough he did.

It took him a couple months of waking up early enough to get a head start on the daily chores he would do for Barb including feeding the chickens, leaving the egg collecting to her.

Once he was done which would normally be by eleven in the morning, he'd be back at his trailer working away at that truck of his until the light pole turned on, telling him it was time to go inside. 

He'd drag himself inside barely tripping over the lip of the door frame with his steel toe boots. Raking his fingers through his hair trying to tame the curls that were slowly getting out of control and grabbing a water bottle from the mini fridge on a card table where a larger fridge should be.

Taehyung always kept his living space clean and tidy but there were times where he would get lazy from working on the truck that was proving to be more of a hassle than it was worth in his eyes. 

A few well worn jeans lay over the loveseat, many unmated socks sit in the corner of his old lazy chair waiting to be mated and put in his dresser.

The kitchen table was littered with instant dinners and random cheese stick wrappers, soda cans and, water bottles.

Taehyung needed to clean up as soon as possible but first he really needed a shower because he smelled more of burnt motor oil than man right now. 

Fast forward ten years and Taehyung is walking down the aisle of the church dressed in black, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks. Barbra, the sweet lady who had given him a place to live and a paying job too, passed away sometime in the night. "At least she died peacefully and without regrets." Her daughter in law spoke at her funeral with that finishing line.

Taehyung thinks back for a moment and remembers one of their late night talks in the study as she was going through some papers Taehyung wasn't sure what they were at the time. "I regret not being able to give this cattle ranch to any of my kids. I just can't trust them to run it correctly, if at all." She murmured to herself as Taehyung was prattling off about the truck yet again. She did have at least one regret and she took it to her grave that day Taehyung had to help five other men put her in the ground.

A few weeks later Taehyung was standing on his small front porch smoking a cigarette. He has good enough sense not to smoke inside unless it was winter and even then he sat next to the window with it opened a little bit to let the smoke out.

He watched a large red truck roll down the dirt road with a trailer attached to the back with a bunch of furniture in it and behind the truck was a moving van. Both vehicles pulled into the loop driveway of Barb's old house which made him stand up straight. 

If there's people moving in that means he might lose his job working under the table including the trailer he had fixed himself so it was livable.

Hell, he might even lose the truck he finally got to start a couple months ago. There was every possibility Taehyung could think of and all he could think about was losing the one place he's ever truly known. 

Then she stepped out of the truck, well more like jumped down but, when she walked around to the trailer Taehyung's mind stopped for a moment.

The new ranch master was beautiful, her hair was bright and glossy. She was short and curvy just the way he liked his women, his breath hitched in his throat when she stepped on the truck's tire and threw her lovely legs over the side of the truck with a smile on her face. 

He needed to introduce himself, maybe make a good first impression maybe then, he could keep working here and stay in his trailer. He quickly put out his half cigarette and brushed his hands off on his jeans, his hands were clammy and he was nervous to say the least. There was a million ways this could go as he made his way over to the young woman who was now climbing down from the truck down to level ground again. 

He stands behind the woman as she takes her boot off, shaking a loose pebble out of it before putting it back on. "Uhm, hi... my name is-" The woman jumps two feet in the air clutching her chest as she whips around to the new voice behind her.

When she sees him she has to glance up to look him in the eye in order to talk to him. He was a tall man, he looked strong enough to handle hard labor, broad shoulders and big hands to boot. But he looked as if he was trying to curl in on himself, like he was almost scared? Shy perhaps?

The woman stares at him for a moment before her eyes light up and she quickly makes her way to the front of the truck pulling out some folders which the ranch hands information on them. "You're Taehyung right? Kim Taehyung?" The woman beams at him as she rounds the truck for a second time looking down at the folder in her arms.

"Y-yeah that's me." He stutters awkwardly shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets. "I'm Y/n O'Brian." She offers him her hand for a hand shake and Taehyung looks between her and her hand for a second before he takes her small hand in his with a small smirk on his lips. "Looks like you're one of the ranch hands who have been here the longest?" Y/n asks as he releases her hand with an awkward chuckle for holding it for so long. "Yeah the uh, bunks are in the back over there in the little yellow barn. I live in the trailer just across the way. Not too far- if you uh, ever need anything." Taehyung rubs the back of his head with a small smile on his lips making Y/n smile back at him.

"Thank yo-" Y/n is cut off by an arm draping over her shoulder giving it a tight squeeze making her wince a little bit. "That's good to know, ain't it honey?" The older looking man grits his teeth looking down at Y/n who puts on a fake smile and chuckles quietly to the man next to her.

He looks back at Taehyung, standing there with a grimace on his face. Extending his hand to the ranch hand with an ugly smirk on his face, they shake hands roughly. "Nice to meet you kid. My name is Joshua, just Josh is fine though. My wife and I hope nothing will go wrong while the ranch is under our care." He chuckles darkly when Taehyung removes his hand from his and takes a step back. "Yeah, let's hope not." He sneers back at him.

A few weeks pass and everything is as follows; Taehyung and the other ranch hands wake up a little before the sun starts rising in the sky. The cattle is moved from one field to another so they can continue grazing freely.

The horses who aren't being used by the cattle hands are put into the field with the cows so they can stretch their legs. A few horses are training for shows and contests in town and around the countryside.

The smaller animals such as the chickens and pigs were taken care of by the ranch master and in this case would be Josh but Y/n was awake anyways.

She wraps her robe around herself and ties it off at her middle, grabbing the old wicker basket at the back door and stepping out to take care of the chickens.

Y/n was quietly humming to herself as she picked at least two dozen or more eggs from the chicken coop. The chickens clucked around her feed waiting to be fed almost tripping her a few times when Taehyung comes riding in on one of the many horses.

He offers help every morning when he sees her half asleep and grumpy. His heart aches for her when he sees a new bruise or cut on her delicate skin, he wishes he could do something for her but he knows he can't do or say anything without potentially losing his job and place of living.

He's gone toe to toe with Josh before when Y/n went to her garden with a bruise under her right eye. Taehyung was pissed that her husband thought it was okay to hit her like that, his parents never laid a finger on each other before one day something changed and they started looking sick.

He never left them because they were his parents he loved them so much. When they stopped moving one day Taehyung had ran away to the next town over where Barbra found him a few days after he had made it to town. 

A few months would pass and Y/n, Taehyung and a few of the other ranch hands were becoming really good friends. They all went out for some drinks one Friday night, somehow Y/n had made it past her abusive husband to come out with them.

They played pool and darts most of the time while enjoying each others company. It was the first time Y/n felt free, more like herself than she had in years.

When one of her favorite songs came on over the speakers Y/n couldn't hold her excitement as she grabbed Taehyung by the hand, pulling him onto the dance floor with her. 

After Taehyung had started driving Y/n home in his truck because she had one too many drinks, she shuffled closer to him on the bench seat, nuzzling under his shoulder until he moved to wrap his arm around her.

Her cheeks were red and warm as she laid her head on his chest while he kept one hand on the wheel down the dirt road. She started playing with his hands, measuring her hand against his, tracing the lines on the joints of his fingers. Even ghosting her finger tips along the palm of his hand making Taehyung shiver under her gentle touch.

Especially when she drunkenly lays her hand on his thigh making him squirm in the bench seat next to her until he pulled into the driveway of his trailer.

The door was barely opened before Taehyung stumbled inside with Y/n's legs wrapped around his hips as he held her by the back of her thighs, holding them tightly with his large hands as they made out.

Both of them clumsily made it to his bedroom, Taehyung lays her on the bed gently, driven by the alcohol coursing through his system and the feelings he has for Y/n.

This beautiful woman who had captured his heart with her sweet accent alone. He kisses her feverishly but slowly trying to hold back as much as he could until she wanted more of him. 

She tugs on his plaid shirt a few times as Taehyung leaves a small mark just between the cleavage of her breast where it could be hidden easily. He feels her pull on him and quickly disposes of his shirt revealing himself to her.

She stares at him for a moment, admiring his hard muscles that twitched under her touch as he kneels on the bed between her legs. She slowly un-buckles his belt causing Taehyung to look down at what she was doing then back at her.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna do anything you aren't comfortable with." He coos, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear looking at her with all the love in the world. "I'm sure Tae, please? I need you. I want to feel safe again." She cries the alcohol in her system playing with her emotions. Taehyung coos at her again, giving her soft slow kisses all over her, making sure she knew she was meant to be loved just like this.

Taehyung didn't see Y/n much after that night, he would stay outside doing chores while also keeping an eye out for the ranch master's wife.

By Gods he hated admitting that someone got to marry that beautiful woman before he did, he would mentally kick himself over nothing every time he thought about it.

Taehyung couldn't do much about the abusive nature of her husband either, the few times that he had stepped in he either got a black eye or a few bruised ribs when he tried to defend her to him because obviously she had done nothing wrong in the first place. 

He almost lost his job three or four different times over the course of eight months but he made sure to tell Y/n that he was always there if she wanted to talk or just simply sit in silence for a while.

She would tell him the same thing every time too. "I'll be find don't worry about me. Too much of a hassle to deal with anyways." Without fail Taehyung would watch her silently from the other side of the fence during the work day and keep a closer eye on the house once the work day was over. 

Every so often by the light in the living room window he could see their shadows dancing around the curtain when Joshua would get angry with her for what he didn't know but Taehyung bets it has something to do with the food being too spicy or too bland.

The man was never happy with anything his wife did which made Taehyung's blood boil when he saw that Y/n was trying her best to please him.

The next day comes and goes by in a hurry as the evening sun sets against the horizon just beyond the pasture. Taehyung lights a cigarette and takes a seat in his little lawn chair facing the ranch house, the same little window like he had been staring through the last few weeks since the night Taehyung knew he crossed the line but it was a beautiful line to cross in the first place.

Tonight's fight was no different than all the others, Josh was waving his hands around, yelling and screaming so loud he could hear it from his trailer.

The only difference was he heard Y/n yelling back at him, making Taehyung stand pin straight taking a long drag off of his cigarette before throwing it to the side, leaning over the banister a cold expression on his face as he stares intently at the window. 

All of it happened so quickly Taehyung had barely processed what happened before he had jumped clear off his porch and ran to the ranch house.

He bangs on the door a few times before he slams his body weight against the frame, breaking it with two hits of his body. Once the door was down he ran through the kitchen and into the living room tackling Josh to the ground and wrestling him for the gun as Y/n sits shell shocked against the fridge, watching the two of them beat on each other.

Taehyung manages to throw the gun out of Josh's reach and against Y/n feet as she tries to shakily talk to the emergency operator on the other side of the phone.

Josh stands into the living room grabbing the old lamp Y/n's grandmother had given to her and smashes it over Taehyungs head making him fall to the ground.

He shakes his head trying to get his vision to focus when Y/n's raggedy husband grabs a fistful of Taehyung's curly hair and pulls him to his feet. 

"You think- just because you fucked my wife- that you can just barge in here unannounced?!" Josh screams in Taehyung's face as he huffs out a get fucked at him with a smirk on his face, spitting a mix of saliva and blood at his feet.

He punches the ranch hand in the gut and he doubles over onto the floor holding his stomach. Y/n looks at him worriedly her eyes as round as saucers, trying to hide the phone from sight.

She lifts her index finger to her lips to let Taehyung know to be quiet and that help was on the way. "I could beat on my wife all day. You're more fun-" Josh grabs him by the collar lifting him up to meet his gaze. "You actually fight back, gives me a challenge." He chuckles darkly pulling his large fist back to hit Taehyung's bloody face again when the click of a gun is heard behind him.

"Leave him alone Joshua- the cops are already on their way so stop this right now." Y/n orders her husband aiming the gun square at his head. Josh scoffs at her but gently puts Taehyung back onto his own two feet. "You won't do shit, if you were- you'd have done it already bitch." Josh makes his way towards her and she fires the gun into the ceiling without a second thought making the three of them flinch at the sudden change in volume.

"Stay back, I'll shoot you Joshua O'Brian I swear to any god that will listen. I will paint the walls with your brain, if you even have one." Y/n snarls at him when a wave of intense pain washes over her, Y/n goes down kneeling onto the floor holding her stomach.

Taehyung quickly makes his way over to Y/n cradling her in his arms. "The baby." Y/n gasps holding onto his forearms. "Baby? What baby? Y/n?" Taehyung asks frantically keeping the gun within his line of sight. "Yours- Our baby Tae. Fuck this hurts." She curses when Josh chuckles darkly at the pair of them on the floor.

"Bastard child." He scoffs wiping the blood off of his knuckles as sirens can be heard off in the distance and for once Josh actually looks scared. 

Two weeks pass after that night, Y/n had moved Taehyung into the ranch house with her because of the nightmares she would have. The first night it happened was the same night the police had taken Joshua away in the back of their cop car.

She woke up in the early hours of the morning and walked over to his trailer, looking like a kicked puppy when Taehyung sleepily answered the door and let her inside. The pair of them slept soundly for the first time in quite a long time.

The day after the court hearing and the divorce papers were signed Y/n steps outside of the courthouse taking a deep breath of fresh air, feeling truly free for the first time in years.

Taehyung walks up beside her and takes her hand in his, his other hand rubs on her stomach as he kneels down level with her stomach making Y/n giggle and smile down at him as he presses kisses along her stomach.

"I love you little one, I don't know if you're a boy or a girl but, either way. Your Daddy is so happy to have you." He whispers against her as the baby kicks Taehyung on the forehead making him take a second to process what just happened. He looks up at Y/n with tears welling in his eyes. "Did they just-" She giggles at him when he wraps his arms around her middle gently.

"Your daughter is quite the fighter." Y/n jokes as she pulls Taehyung back to his feet, brushing the loose dirt from the ranch off of his shoulders with a small smile on her lips.

Taehyung looks into her beautiful eyes, completely entranced by her beauty. "Just like her Mommy." He says leaning down for a kiss and their lips connect for the first time in months 

In the next month the baby had made her way into the world quietly, the only time she cried after Y/n had labored for thirteen hours in the hospital delivery room.

She had Taehyung's dark, curly hair and big brown eyes, she was small like her mother even her lips were tiny too. The sight of his two girls curled on the hospital bed as Y/n breast fed was the best thing he's seen for a very long time.

He was mesmerized by them especially Y/n, the same woman who he watched for nearly over a year be beaten the shit out of on a daily basis, who took every hit and every mentally abusive remark for who knows how much longer than he had seen.

She was indeed a strong woman and perfect role model for their daughter. Y/n looks to Taehyung who is lost in thought, staring intently at the two of them with that beautiful boxy smile on his lips when she catches his eye.

"Do you want to hold her?" She asks him and he hesitates for a moment, his daughter is so much smaller than him, he could hurt her if he wasn't careful. "I don't want to break her." His hands shake a little as he walks over to his girls. "You won't hurt her Tae. Just support Naomi's head and you'll be alright. Just like that, good job Dad." Y/n slowly helps Taehyung hold the baby correctly, cradling her in his arms.

She moves in her swaddle a little bit making the tiniest, cutest sound she could possibly make and Taehyung just stares at her in awe. Something so little could produce a smaller sound out of her lips. "She's beautiful. You did such an amazing job darlin'." Taehyung coos at Y/n who stands on the other side of their daughter stroking the tuft of curly hair on top of her head smiling happily. 

A year later Taehyung and Y/n are celebrating Naomi's first birthday with the ranch hands and a few other family members in attendance. "Hey sis? Could you hand me the cake cutter? Or a knife I don't care hand me something woman." She chuckles moving through the kitchen swiftly and smoothly like a ballerina performing on stage.

Y/n's father walks into the living room where Taehyung and Y/n's mother sit chatting away while the older kids ran between the kitchen and outside, playing in the sprinkler out in the yard.

"So, Taehyung is it?" Y/n's father accidently interrupts the light hearted conversation, making Taehyung stand and shake her fathers hand firmly. "Yes, I'm Taehyung s-sir." His eyes widen as he stutters, making him curl in on himself.

Her father just chuckles at the poor boy relaxing his posture a little bit, hoping to make the boy a little more comfortable with him. "Don't worry about that kid, you should've heard me the day I met Her mother's dad. Damn, you could see the sweat for miles when I stood on that front porch with flowers in my hand. I was nervous to say the least."

Taehyung takes a breath of relief nodding to her father when her mother confirms it for him by smiling and nodding her head. "Listen son, if you truly love my daughter unlike that no good son-" Y/n's mother coughs, staring him down before finishing for him.

"What he means sweetheart- if you want to marry our daughter, you have our permission to ask her." Taehyung swallows hard as his hands become clammy and he chuckles with Y/n's parents in the living room when the lady of the house comes into view. "Everything's ready! Tae could you go get Naomi? I think my sister has her outside in the sprinklers." 

Everyone gathers around the large dining table in the middle of the kitchen, Y/n let Naomi "open" her presents first so she didn't get cake on them. She got plenty of baby toys and more blankets and a few hand made wash cloths from the neighbor down the road.

A few more hours pass of Naomi opening her new toys and Dad putting a few of them together for her. One by one each family member left the house. Y/n said goodbye to her parents last because her mother had helped her clean up the mess when Taehyung and her father picked up the toys from the side yard. 

Taehyung waits until Naomi was sound asleep in her crib, thank god that child slept like a fucking rock too because if Taehyung was going to go through with this, the baby needed to be out like a light.

Y/n was getting ready for bed in their master bathroom when Taehyung comes up and hugs her from behind, nuzzling his nose into the crook of her neck and wrapping his arms around her middle, almost missing the baby bump she used to have.

"I love you, Y/n." He whispers into her ear making her shiver as his hot breath hits her cold skin fresh out of the shower. Taehyung and Y/n makes eye contact through the mirror in front of them and she can almost see the predatory glint in his eyes as his eyes scan her body only to meet her gaze again.

"I love the way you wake me up in the mornings. I love the way your night gowns give so much but leave just enough to the imagination. I love the way your hair blows in the wind when we sit outside together. I love our daughter we made together. I just- love you so much." Taehyung starts to tear up and Y/n coos at him lovingly. "I love you too, Tae. What's wrong baby? Did my dad say something?" His grip on her body tightens the slightest bit when she mentioned her father.

"N-no he didn't- I mean he did but- that's not the point. I'm trying to be romantic and you're ruining it." He playfully scoffs giving her ass a light slap and grabbing it making her squeal. "Okay, okay I'm sorry. Continue please?" She pouts into the mirror holding onto his forearms around her stomach. Taehyung takes a deep breath as he speaks again only a little irritated.

"You're as pretty as south Georgia peaches and as hot as any Tennessee June. Did you know that? Every time I look at you I fall more and more in love with everything you do. Even if the little things you do irritate me sometimes, like not believing me when I tell you you're beautiful." Taehyung pauses to place a few kisses along Y/n's jawline and neck, his hands roaming her body as he talks to her lovingly.

Y/n giggles against him and turns to face him when he pins her to the bathroom sink. "But I think the thing that's got me hooked on you the most is when you say you love me in that sweet, soft, slow, southern drawl of yours. It drives me crazy Y/n, sometimes I think you lay it on thick on purpose." He smirks down at her innocent eyes.

"I ain't got a clue what yer talkin' about sweetheart." Y/n looks around the room when Taehyung rolls his eyes back, tilting his head slightly with a low groan.

"That- That right there is what I'm talking about little lady. It's like you love driving me crazy just by speaking." He teases her, pulling her gown up just enough to reveal her thighs he's been thinking about all day, he couldn't wait to be between them. Taehyung dips down to her level locking eyes with her once again before his gaze drops down to her sweet lips.

"Say my name." He deadpans his eyes still locked on her lips, waiting patiently as he can for her to speak. Y/n stutters when he picks her up to sit her on the bathroom counter top next to the sink. "T-Taehyung." She says softly when one of his large hands smack the counter next to her hip, sliding to her hip giving it a squeeze as he closes his eyes.

"I love it when you say my name baby," He purrs in her ear making her shiver again when his hand ghosts over her stomach. He opens his eyes again pressing his lips to hers with fervor almost pushing her against the large mirror before picking her up again and taking her to the bed.

He lays her down gently like he had the first time they had been in this position but this time there were no repercussions of their actions.

They continue to kiss each other like it was the last time they're going to be able to. Y/n pulls him closer to her by the back of his neck giving the little hairs on the back of his neck a tug earning a soft moan from Taehyung. He angles himself to look at her, propping himself onto his hands on either side of her head as he hovers over her. 

"Marry me." 

Y/n takes a moment to look at the man hovering above her curvy frame. Did he- of course he did, every chance he got he would mess around with the idea.

Y/n never took any of it too seriously considering the hell she had just gotten out of just a little over a year ago. Y/n caresses his cheek softly looking up at him with stars in her eyes as the tears began to pool at the brim. "Yes. yes Taehyung I will marry you. Just please, don't hurt me." She pleads with him and he hushes her worries with a kiss that hopefully portrayed all of the emotions he had for her. He latches onto her neck leaving a good sized love bite on her neck before he kissed her cheek.

"I could never hurt the one person who has made me happier in the last two years, than I have been my entire life."

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Chapter 2.

Note: follow up to chapter 1.

Warnings: fluff. mention of smoking. that's it.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f)

summary: Sihtric stayed in touch, and you embarrassed yourself.

wordcount: 2,8k

Masterlist

'You clearly haven't seen me when I wake up.'

Two days had passed since you saw Seven Kings live and had met all the members again. Which also means two days had passed since Sihtric interacted with you on instagram, and against all your expectations, he actually stayed in touch with you. 

After he had asked you how you were doing, you simply kept messaging each other throughout the day. Just small talk, and you were cautious, cherishing the fact that he kept writing to you for some reason. He told you he was travelling abroad for two shows, and that he got a little bored on the road sometimes, so you figured you were just a form of entertainment for him right now, nothing more. You thought he was probably talking to a bunch of other girls in his dms too.

You told Gisela all about it, and she couldn't believe it. She kept saying this was the start of your relationship, but you obviously didn't believe her. 

After a normal day of going to work, you got in bed late in the evening, knowing that the band had finished their show about two hours ago, and you opened your messages with Sihtric again. He hadn't read your last reply to him yet, and you knew it was because you had answered him shortly before he had to go on stage. You sighed, feeling silly for missing the interaction you had throughout the day and the day before, when he had no show to play, and now there were time gaps in his replies, which you understood. But you also feared he probably met some new pretty young thing and forgot all about you. You wanted to close the app, but your hand slipped and your phone fell flat on your face.

'Fuck!' you groaned, rubbing your forehead, and when you lifted your phone from your face, you panicked.

You had accidentally pressed the video call button.

'No!' you screamed, 'no, no! Oh god, no!' 

In your panic you couldn't get the dialling to stop, and suddenly your screen said:

Connecting…

Then Sihtric suddenly appeared, shirtless and smiling, albeit a little confused. His hair was wet, a towel hung over his shoulder, and he was clearly standing in the bathroom of his hotel.

'Hey,' he chuckled at the sight of your big eyes.

'Oh my god! I'm so sorry!' you immediately said, 'I didn't mean to call you. I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid. My phone slipped out of my hands and fell on my face, I accidentally called you somehow and I couldn't figure out how to stop it-'

'Relax,' Sihtric laughed, 'calm down, lady, it's all good.'

'I feel so stupid,' you confessed and hid your face behind your free hand.

'Don't worry,' Sihtric smiled as he walked over to the bed, 'I'm kind of surprised something like that never happened to me, since I'm clumsy as fuck,' he laughed.

You stared at the breathtaking man on your screen, your eyes glued to the glimpses of his muscular body.

'W-why did you even answer?' you asked.

'Well, you called me,' he chuckled, 'I guess… maybe I secretly hoped you called to say you were in town,' he smiled weakly, 'but guess you're not,' he said, seeing you were tucked in bed.

'I'm not,' you said shyly, 'look, I'm really sorry for bothering you like this. I- I'll leave you to your evenin-'

'No, don't hang up,' Sihtric said as he perked up, 'please?' he pleaded softly and then sighed, 'I… I could use some company, really,' he said with a shy smile.

'O…oh, are you s-sure?'

Sihtric nodded and laid back down on his bed again, one arm behind his head as he smiled at you. 

'Yeah,' he said, 'these shows are quite overwhelming, after not playing any for almost two years. If I'm alone I just overthink about what went wrong or what may go wrong next show. Maybe you could take my mind off it?'

'Okay,' you chuckled, 'so, where is everyone else then?'

'The guys all took some girls to their rooms,' Sihtric smiled and shook his head.

'And you don't do that?' you blurted out.

'Not anymore, no,' he said, 'before I got married, sure, the attention was fun. But then I grew up, I guess, and realised those one night stands only make me feel more lonely on the road. And once you had a taste of that domestic life,' he shrugged, 'I can't go back to just fucking around anymore.'

'You liked that life then?' you asked, becoming a little more relaxed yourself. It felt so easy and natural to talk to him somehow, you couldn't explain it.

'I did,' Sihtric smiled a little shyly again, 'it's the best feeling in the world to come home and know someone's waiting for you. But, yeah,' he sighed, 'that's gone.'

'I'm sorry,' you said with a slight pout, feeling genuinely sad for him.

You wanted to ask why he divorced, but you felt you'd overstep if you did, so you just sighed softly and gave him a smile.

'I can see you want to ask,' Sihtric said, as if he could read your thoughts, 'it's okay. If I didn't want to talk about it I wouldn't have mentioned it. My ex, eh, she cheated,' he sniffed, 'like… every time I was out of town,' he snorted, 'it's not funny, but I'd rather laugh at it than get angry.'

'Fuck,' you gasped, 'Sihtric, I'm so sorry. You don't deserve that. No one does.'

'Ah, it happened,' he said, 'I healed from that already. Had a rebound, which was stupid as fuck too,' he laughed, 'but that's when I figured that those girls at the show, who want to get in your bed, they're not wife material. They like you for one night, brag about it, and move on to the next new hot and popular band,' he grimaced.

'Christ,' you shuddered, 'I can't even imagine why anyone would do that.'

'Well, some artists like that,' he coughed, 'Uhtred and Osferth,' he said in between coughs.

You broke out in a laugh. 'Are you ratting out your friends?'

'Oh come,' he chuckled, 'don't pretend you're not aware of the stories.'

'Yeah, what is up with Osferth?' you snorted.

'Lady, I don't even know how he gets all those women in his bed. And clearly, he's not being safe either, the dickhead,' Sihtric shook his head and sighed, 'at least Uhtred's smart, using protection, but Osferth is a bit naive sometimes I guess.'

'Yet Osferth calls himself a good Christian boy?'

'Only on Sundays, when he says he has to go to church, probably to confess his sins of the past weekend.'

You both laughed and then you asked what Finan's deal was.

'Finan has a girl here and there,' Sihtric said, 'nothing steady, nothing serious. But he's transparent about it with them.'

'That's something,' you said, 'you know, my friend who was also at the meet and greet, she's head over heels for Uhtred.'

'Really? Damn,' Sihtric smiled at you, 'well, she better stay away from him. He's not ready to settle down yet.'

'I told her that,' you laughed, 'and, well, it's not like there's any chance anyway. I mean, you guys are so famous, you're all totally unreachable.'

'Unreachable?' Sihtric frowned, tilting his head slightly to the side.

'Yeah, I mean, you guys can date any supermodel you probably want,' you chuckled.

A feeling of sadness suddenly settled in your bones, knowing that your crush on Sihtric was simply hopeless, yet you kept falling for him the more contact you had, even though you knew you never had a chance.

'Girls like us will never have a chance with guys like you,' you added, brushing it off with a shrug.

'You don't know that,' Sihtric smiled sweetly.

'Yeah, well,' you mumbled and looked away from your phone.

Sihtric simply smiled at his screen, taking in your appearance. He loved the way you looked, so real and beautiful. No make-up, no fancy clothing, your hair just hanging loose. He loved that you had accidentally called him, because he knew that the way you were talking with him now, and the way you looked, was your authentic self. And he loved it.

'But what about you?' Sihtric broke the short silence, 'are you dating or married even?'

'What? Oh, no,' you said, 'no. My last boyfriend cheated on me too, actually,' you sighed, 'that relationship ended about two years ago. I had some dates here and there, but I found no one worthy yet.'

'Worthy?' Sihtric smiled, 'of what?' 

'To settle down with, I guess,' you chuckled, 'isn't that what everyone wants eventually?'

'It is,' Sihtric smiled and bit down on his lip.

You truly wanted to keep talking with Sihtric, but you saw nearly an hour had passed already, and felt horrible for robbing him of his time, even though he said he wanted some company. And besides, you started to struggle to keep your eyes open.

'Hey, so… it's getting late,' you said, 'I'm really tired and I have to work again tomorrow.'

'What kind of work do you do?'

'Customer service for an internet company,' you grimaced.

'Oh, fuck,' Sihtric laughed, 'you must be treated kindly during your day, huh?'

'Oh,' you mocked, 'you have no idea. I learn a new curse word every day.'

'I bet,' Sihtric chuckled, then became serious, 'that doesn't mess with you?'

'Some days are harder than others,' you admitted, 'some people have trouble with their internet, and they're really friendly and thankful when I help them out. But most people give you shit because they just need someone to blame, and I'm the one who picks up the phone,' you shrugged, 'it definitely sucks. But I gotta pay my bills.'

'Hard working woman,' Sihtric smiled sweetly, 'yeah, I'll let you get some sleep then. I should go to sleep as well.'

'Travelling again tomorrow?'

'Yeah, early morning. Got the rest of the day off there.'

'Lucky you,' you smiled, 'I'll be stuck at work from nine to six.'

Sihtric whistled. 'Sounds rough.'

'It is,' you chuckled, 'anyway, safe travels then for you.'

'Thank you, lady. Good luck to you, don't let some asshole bring you down just because his internet doesn't work, okay?' he smiled.

'I'll try,' you promised.

'Good,' Sihtric said, 'thanks for keeping me company. Sweet dreams, love,' he smiled and winked.

'Sweet dreams,' you said shyly, and you both hung up.

If you weren't so tired, you would've called Gisela right away, but you were exhausted. Your head was simply spinning, and you fell asleep after only a few minutes.

When your alarm rang you immediately thought your video call with Sihtric had been a dream. A very realistic and pleasant dream, but still, just a dream. But then you saw a notification on your lockscreen, and once again, your heart stopped.

sihtric.kjartansson started following you.

You stared at your phone for what felt like minutes. Then you took a screenshot and texted Gisela, who called you immediately.

'What is happening?!' she yelled.

'I don't know! I accidentally called him last night, you know, a video call!' you said, and explained to her what had happened.

'I'm telling you,' Gisela said, 'he's into you. Believe me!'

You wanted to shrug it off again, but even you couldn't deny right now that things started to feel a little… suspicious. In the best way possible.

Because your phone call with Gisela took longer than expected, you had to rush to work. Your head was simply not there all day, and you struggled to get through the hours, until your first break. And when you took your phone out, you got another shock. Suddenly hundreds of people you didn't know had started following you. You quickly understood they were all fans of Seven Kings, and had simply noticed Sihtric started to follow someone new on his instagram. And like sheep, they started to follow your page too, probably hoping to become friendly with you and figuring out your connection with him. 

You quickly switched your profile to private and deleted every follower you didn't know. Then you messaged Sihtric.

You: thanks for the follow 

You: and for the few hundred new followers too yikes

Sihtric: ah fuck

Sihtric: sorry love

Sihtric: I didn't think about that. Sorry if I caused any trouble…

You: it's okay, I just switched my profile to private

Sihtric: I'm really sorry

Sihtric: you busy?

You: my break is actually almost over :( 

Sihtric: aw damn :( 

Sihtric: message me later? x

You: I will :) x

The rest of the day flew by, and when you got home, you quickly made yourself some dinner. And before you could message Sihtric, you saw he had already messaged you.

Sihtric: how was your day?

You: could be worse, so not too bad :) yours? 

Suddenly Sihtric video called you, like you had done the night before. A shock went through your body again, and you took a deep breath before you answered the call.

'Hey,' you said, nervously.

'Hey yourself,' Sihtric smiled.

And fucking hell, how good he looked, you thought. Your heart stopped at the sight of his braided hair, while he was wearing a black hoodie. He sat outside on a balcony, you figured he was at what would be his hotel for the night, and he lit a cigarette. The only thing you didn't like about Sihtric; he smoked. But he looked so damn hot doing it…

'You look pretty,' Sihtric said, and took a drag from his cigarette.

'Thanks,' you felt your cheeks burn, 'so do you. I like your hair.'

'You like it?' he smiled, then exhaled the cigarette smoke through his nose and his slightly parted lips.

'Yeah,' you smiled, 'it looks good.'

'Thanks,' Sihtric chuckled, 'I had a short interview, for some bass guitar blog,' he said, 'figured I'd try and look decent.'

'You always look more than decent,' you laughed.

'You clearly haven't seen me when I wake up,' he winked.

'You're right, I haven't,' you giggled.

'Mhm,' Sihtric hummed, taking another drag, 'maybe one day, love,' he suddenly said.

'What?' your eyes grew big. 

Did you just hear that right? Was that… was he making a move of sorts?

Sihtric grinned, shook his head lightly and pressed out his cigarette in the ashtray on his table.

'People treated you nice today then, lady?' he moved on and leaned back, holding his phone.

'A bit,' you shrugged, 'nothing out of the ordinary happened. But how was your day?'

'Quite boring,' Sihtric stretched his arms, showing off a part of his abs, as his hoodie got pulled up with his movements, 'the interview was fun. Got to play some bass,' he smiled, 'just had dinner with the guys, now we're all just doing our own thing.'

'Doesn't sound bad,' you smiled.

'It's not. But, hey, so… I was thinking,' Sihtric said as he got up and walked inside his hotel room, 'you said you wanted to come to the last show of this tour, right?' he asked and sat down on a comfy looking couch.

'Yeah, well, I tried to get a ticket, but you know…'

'Yeah, but what if I put you on the guestlist?'

'Oh, I… eh,' you stammered, 'that's really sweet. But.. I- I have to work that day, until eight in the evening, we work in shifts. My boss scheduled me already, it's too short notice to take the day off. I'm really sorry…'

'Oh,' Sihtric said and looked down at his feet, 'yeah, I understand,' he gave you a weak smile.

'I'm sorry, Sihtric. I would've loved to see the show again, but I'd only arrive like… near the end.'

You felt horrible. Sihtric looked visibly sad that you more or less turned down his invite, but you truly could not get that day off anymore.

'Maybe, hm…' Sihtric said, then paused, 'could you make it to the afterparty?' he asked.

'Oh, eh, I… I think so, yeah,' you said.

'Really?' 

You swear you saw his eyes lit up.

'Yeah, I mean… I could take the train there after work. I'll be really tired though, but… yeah,' you chuckled, 'what time does it start?'

'Right after the show really, but I don't go there right away. I want to shower first and eat something,' Sihtric said, 'I never stay long either. But these parties only happen at the end of a tour, so I gotta show my face for an hour or so, you know?'

'I see,' you smiled, 'eh, yeah, let me check the trains real quick.'

Sihtric stared at you, anxiously waiting like an excited puppy to hear if you could make it or not.

'I could be there round eleven, does that work?' you frowned.

'Yeah, yeah,' Sihtric smiled, 'that's perfect. Just message me when you're close, and I'll wait outside the venue for you.'

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

[mythosidhesdollhouse]

Comfi Cardi update & completed project! Went on a bit of a journey with this one, which I'll explain under the cut XD Before I get into that I thought it would be fun to share Naturally Perfect Grace (formerly Camryn) alongside one of my favorite Rainbow High makeovers, since they share a very similar color palette (I used the same crochet thread for the edging on the cardi and the main body of Coco's skirt).

The fibers used for the cardi are Elite Shawl Glitz (discontinued) from Ice Yarns; and Lizbeth Size 10 crochet thread in 122-Caribbean.

So. I started off following the Comfi Cardi tutorial using the yarn weight and hook size indicated to make a garment for American Girl dolls. What quickly became apparent was that this piece was going to be MUCH too large for the doll I intended to wear it. Although Naturally Perfect and American Girl dolls are both 18 inches tall, their body types are quite different. I was aware of this, but as I do not own and have never handled an AG I had no clear idea of just how great the difference was until I began this project.

Nevertheless I continued to work my way through the various sections, both to familiarize myself with the process and to create a visual aid to refer to on my next attempt. I stopped just short of the finishing stages (sewing the sides and adding the ribbing) for easier reference, though I did work a row of the ribbing stitch on one of the cuffs and sew down the side to try it on the doll and make sure I understood the directions before pulling it out again (no reason to leave the yarn attached and trailing about).

The other reason for finishing the main work on this piece is simply that I hope sometime in the near future to acquire an appropriately sized doll to wear it! If not AG then Our Generation or similar. At that point I can circle back and complete it.

Once I had worked through the pattern-as-given I had the guidelines I needed to start over and create a piece custom fit to my doll. I switched from a light(3) to a fine(2) weight yarn, and went down to a B-2mm hook. Checking against the doll as I went I ended up reducing the main granny square from 11 rounds to 9, then adjusted the front panel and sleeve lengths accordingly.

For the cuffs and edging, instead of ribbing I opted for something more in line with my personal aesthetic, and chose a couple of simple lace stitches that would adapt easily to this scale and allow me to incorporate some beadwork and a button. These beads were leftover from jewelry I made in the late 90s and have been knocking around my stash ever since; it was particularly satisfying to almost use them up on a piece intended for my tiny doppelganger XD I'll probably incorporate the few that remain into one of her necklaces.

And that's it! I'm looking forward to doing this again for my other Naturally Perfect girl, after I complete her skirt. For simplicity's sake I'm going to repeat the same layout with different yarn/beads/thread. After that I might try scaling it down even further for my 14 inch dolls, but knowing my tendency to get distracted I don't want to plan too much in advance.

Big thanks again to @joshybearhuggies for sharing such a clear, well-paced, easy to follow tutorial! Over the past 15 or so years I've gathered my crochet techniques from books, written patterns, and stitch diagrams, but video instruction is an area I haven't ventured into much. This project was such pleasant experience I'm definitely going to be on the lookout for similar content in the future.

[meggiejolly]

New Malex Red, White and Royal Blue AU scene!

Hi 👋 It's been a long time since I last updated the RNM RWRB AU, but I have been working on it lately. (Maybe some of you saw some snippets I posted for WIP Wednesdays, they are all in the tag) I finally finished and posted a scene again, this time it's The scene at the royal stables when they meet for the first time after the cake-tastrophy. It's a pretty short scene, but I have another, longer one almost finished, I'll probably pst that one next week.

Of course there are royal stables and polo practice. For fuck's sake, sometimes Michael wishes he could go back to his pre-politics life in Roswell, with real farms. The stables there certainly looked nothing like this, and he'd never seen anyone play polo.  He sort of wishes for his cowboy hat and boots while feeling ridiculously underdressed at the same time. His curls are probably a mess from the plane and his clothes even more wrinkly than usual. Max and Isobel always manage to look put together when they need to be, while he always seems to look a little wrinkled and a little out of place. Like he's playing dress up. But here, in this picture perfect royal stable, he feels completely out of place. At least Alex won't look his best either, straight out of polo practice. He'll be sweaty, rumpled and smelling like horse.  Alex proves him wrong, when he comes around a corner, sitting on a god damn white horse like some fucking fairytale prince. He's neither sweaty nor rumpled, he is somehow perfectly elegant and royal. Even the slowly setting sun hits him perfectly and Michael could scream. 

Keep reading on AO3

Tag list under the cut, I've tagged everyone from the old tag list from over a year ago, I hope that's ok. If you would like to be added or removed, please let me know.

@thekiranzm28 @idealuk @angrycowboy @granfalloontje @dabb444 @mimi-and-the-next-20th-century