#it's always a joy to write something for you

[hana-no-seiiki]

My first writing commission! This will be a multipart series for HOTD. Featuring yanderes, political warfare and overall mayhem. And perhaps?? some time traveling??

Thank you @dawntheday for commissioning this project.

// tw/cw: reader is not a targaryen. canon based violence, incest, sexism, the usual. canon divergences. reader is gender neutral but is described as ethereal. reader gets pimped out (implicit/short descriptions). seggs/light smut. basically a lot of disgusting shit happens.

AND THEN, THERE WAS YOU [PROLOGUE]

Childbirth was one of the most traumatic, painful and bloody experiences known to man. The sheer agony of a child being ripped out of your womb, kicking and screaming. And yet, so many deemed it miraculous event. All joy, love and positivity.

It was horrific to even witness.

But the Gods wouldn’t be satisfied for you to be a bystander. No. You would find out that childbirth was worse when you were the one being born.

Sentience was a curse. One forced upon you since the beginning. You could feel the push of your mother’s walls, constricting you, flattening you, forcing you out into the world. Her screams, your cries, and the panicking voices of the midwives as you finally, finally made it out were all too much. The blood all too much.

You never really forget that experience even as you grew older. Features of your youth melted away to reveal ethereal beauty. One that commanded worship and awe.

That was another thing the Gods made you have to torture you. Droves and droves of sick and twisted people at your doorstep as your birth parents watched in delight, their coffers filled to the brim with gold.

But perhaps it wasn’t always a curse. Your beauty, I mean. Now that you’ve stolen much of their earnings and escaped to another continent.

Westeros.

A journey by sea it took. For you to crawl your way into the newly conquered lands. Bloodied and battered from the journey. Exhausted yet eager to renew yourself in the new lands your feet would walk upon.

Your first ever job was at a Brothel. Taking in clients like the way your parents did to you not so long ago, but of your own accord.

That was where you met Aegon Targaryen. Aegon the Conqueror. Loud, proud, and scrotum heavy. You’ve heard of the classic old tale where the men of his family would visit this place to sow their oats. Bastards upon bastards littered the place. You knew that one of these days, you would be bear his spunk and parade it around like many others. Your ego ached for it even. To conquer the conquerer. To bear a dragon’s seed.

Little did you know, the dragon already knew you.

“I dreamt of you.” He said as he ravished you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t recognize. You certainly hadn’t seen in your family’s nor have your old clients. “Like I dream of the walkers. Of an apocalypse to come.”

You’ve heard of his rough and relentless way in the sack. How your fellow workers complained of the way they were treated, how they couldn’t walk any further than two feet after he was done with them. The man did not view them as anything more than objects after all. Something to toss aside when he was done.

But if anything, he’d been the most attached and sappiest man you’ve ever had the fortune of bedding. Disgustingly so.

“You. You are the calm amongst those nightmares.“ He was gentle, loving. Nothing like Aegon the Conqueror that you’ve heard of. Nothing like the Aegon the Conqueror that you wanted.

As soon as he fell asleep, you went and disappeared.

It is not long before he calls upon you. Again and again, murmuring about dreams and winter. You’ve even met his wives. All so eager to meet you. All so kind and benevolent. All so unlike the expectations you’ve set in your mind and heart. Expectations you were willing to brave through. Somehow, drama and your potential death was better than the constricting vice they held over you. Memories flashed through your head. Of your mother, of your birth. Of blood and viscera.

You try to leave but are sent back to Aegon’s chambers in an instant.

“You may leave. You may run. But nothing will stop you from finding your way back to the Dragon’s nest. Fate wills it so.” He said, but all you heard was a challenge.

“You’ll find that I’m quite stubborn regardless.”

You quickly find out that Aegon knew your movements from his dreams. Each plan of yours to escape had been foiled before it had happened.

And so you stopped, you let him and his wives coddle and fuck you when they wanted.

Years later, an opportunity presents itself. A cliff overlooking the ocean. So vast and wide. Yet to be taken and shackled by the man who took your freedom away.

You do not hesitate. Not for one moment.

“Come.”

You jump. You bet that Aegon did not foresee that coming considering he was too shocked to catch you. Your death would be swift you suppose. At least it wouldn’t be as arduous as repeating the same day over and over again.

Your eyes fluttered open, a meeting between [e/c] and purple. You grimaced as you see her platinum blonde hair and luxurious outdoor clothing. Blood across her face and a knife in her hand.

It can’t be . . .

Tears fall down your cheeks. Your broken cries echo through the woods.

a/n: future chapters will be longer because hotd is hotd.

[ruewritesoccasionally]

The Reunion Pt.3 | Aaron Pierre

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Reader

Warnings: themes of longing and emotional tension, mentions of relationship disconnect/dismissiveness, implied romantic conflict and some fluff to top it off

Chapter Summary: Cracks begin to show, confessions linger on the edge—could this be the moment Aaron finally takes a step forward?

Word Count: 3.5K

a/n: things are finally moving between these two !!!! i'm actually a sucker for a good friends to lovers trope. also i feel like the uk girly in me slipped out writing this lol

It had been almost a week since the reunion, and YN felt like she was finally shaking off the fog that had lingered over her. The days had been uneventful, but in the best way possible—long walks, slow mornings with her favourite playlist, and a little bit of space from the world. Even Trey had seemed to give her a bit of breathing room, though not intentionally. They’d texted back and forth, but he’d been busy with work, leaving her evenings to herself. For the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of clarity, even if it was faint and fleeting.

That Saturday morning, the two of them decided to meet up for a casual stroll through the city. The crisp winter air made their breaths visible as they wandered along the pavements, passing coffee shops and bustling market stalls. YN tucked her hands into her coat pockets, glancing up at Trey as they walked side by side.

“I was thinking,” she started, her voice light, “maybe we could pop into that new bookshop on Willow Street? Or check out a pottery workshop later this week. I heard they’re running a session on handbuilding vases, and it sounded fun.”

Trey gave a small hum, distracted by something on his phone. He barely looked up as he replied, “Didn’t you just buy a ton of books last week? And you do pottery, like, every other day.”

YN’s steps faltered just slightly, but she quickly recovered, forcing a light laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” she said, glancing away to hide the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

The thing was, he wasn’t wrong. She had bought books last week, and she did spend a lot of time at pottery workshops. But it wasn’t about the books or the clay—it was about sharing something she loved, about finding joy in small things. She thought about Aaron, about how he’d once spent an entire Saturday afternoon in a freezing studio with her, his hands covered in clay as he tried to sculpt something resembling a cup. He’d laughed at himself the whole time, but by the end of the session, he was asking the instructor if there were any openings for another class.

Trey’s indifference stung in comparison, even if she tried to tell herself it wasn’t a big deal.

“So, what else is on your mind?” Trey asked, slipping his phone into his pocket and finally looking at her.

“Nothing,” YN said, shaking her head with a small smile. “It’s cool—we can just walk around and see where we end up.”

He nodded, his attention already shifting to the street ahead. She fell quiet beside him, her thoughts trailing back to the past week and the steady, unexpected warmth she’d felt since seeing Aaron again.

As they turned the corner onto a quieter street, YN spotted a figure jogging towards them in the distance. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognised the broad shoulders and familiar gait, the grey hoodie and black joggers he always seemed to wear on his morning runs.

Aaron’s jog had been unremarkable until he turned the corner and caught sight of YN. Even from a distance, he could see her walking beside Trey, the two of them engrossed in what appeared to be a light conversation. A smile instinctively tugged at Aaron’s lips, his pace slowing as he approached. It had been almost a week since the reunion, and though the last time he’d seen her had been tinged with nostalgia and unspoken feelings, just seeing her now felt like a small reprieve from the weight of it all.

As he drew closer, he noticed the way her expression shifted. There was something off—a flicker of disheartenment she was trying to hide behind a polite smile. Aaron’s brow furrowed slightly, but he masked his concern as he greeted them, his tone light and easy. “Fancy running into you two here,” he said, wiping the sweat from his brow as he came to a stop.

YN’s face lit up when she saw him, her smile growing more genuine, and Aaron felt the smallest flutter of satisfaction in his chest. “Hey, stranger,” she replied, her tone brightening. “Out for a jog?”

Aaron nodded, his eyes softening as they met hers. “Yeah, trying to keep up with myself. How’ve you been?” He shifted his attention entirely to her, his tone carrying that subtle warmth she always found so disarming.

“I’ve been good,” YN replied, a little too quickly, as though she were trying to convince herself of it. “Just… you know, same old.”

He could hear the undercurrent of something unsaid, and it gnawed at him. Aaron leaned slightly closer, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Still working on that hobby of yours? I remember you were so excited about it the last time we talked.” He wasn’t prying—just trying to draw her out a bit, to remind her he noticed the little things about her.

Her expression shifted, softening into something brighter, warmer. “I am, actually. It’s been keeping me sane,” she admitted, the first genuine laugh of the conversation slipping past her lips. “It’s probably getting out of hand, though. You’d think I’d have picked up a new one by now.”

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I think it’s great. If it makes you happy, why stop?”

Before YN could respond, Trey let out a low chuckle, cutting into the moment. “She’s always obsessing over that. It’s her thing.” He said it offhandedly, like a casual joke, but there was a dismissiveness to it that had Aaron’s jaw tightening imperceptibly. YN’s smile faltered for just a moment before she recovered, brushing off the comment with a shrug and a forced laugh.

Aaron felt anger bubble in his chest—subtle but persistent. It wasn’t anything overtly rude, but it was enough to irk him, to highlight the stark contrast between Trey’s offhanded indifference and the attentiveness YN deserved. Still, he swallowed the irritation, his tone calm but pointed as he replied, “Well, it clearly makes her happy, so why not?”

YN glanced at him, her eyes softening with gratitude for the way he smoothed over the moment. Aaron caught the look and held it for just a beat longer than necessary, his heart twisting at the subtle vulnerability he saw there.

Trey, oblivious to the subtle tension in the exchange, shifted the conversation onto something else entirely, leaving YN quietly retreating into herself again.

As they said their goodbyes and walked away, Aaron found himself watching their retreating figures, the pang in his chest sharper than usual. He noticed the way Trey’s attention drifted elsewhere, his phone already in hand as YN walked beside him, her expression contemplative.

Aaron ran a hand down his face, frustration simmering beneath the surface. How could Trey be so indifferent to her, so unaware of the little things that made her who she was? She deserved someone who saw her, someone who cherished those quirks and passions, not someone who brushed them aside as trivial.

A familiar thought surfaced, unbidden and painful: If she were mine, I’d never make her feel like that. But she wasn’t his—not yet, at least. And as much as it stung, he reminded himself that reacting impulsively would only complicate things. YN wasn’t his to protect, his to comfort. Not yet.

With a frustrated exhale, Aaron shook his head and resumed his jog, though the rhythm felt off now, his thoughts tangled in everything he couldn’t say.

That evening, YN sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone. The day had been long—longer than it needed to be—and the anticipation of spending some quality time with Trey had been the only thing keeping her going. She’d pictured a quiet night together, nothing extravagant, just the kind of evening that reminded her why they were trying to make this work.

But her phone buzzed, and her heart sank before she even opened the message.

“Sorry, babe. Work’s calling. Rain check?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at the screen. She typed back a quick “no worries” and tossed her phone onto the bed beside her. It wasn’t the first time Trey had bailed, and she’d gotten good at pretending it didn’t bother her. But tonight, for some reason, it stung a little more. Maybe it was the way he’d brushed her off earlier about her hobby, or the way Aaron’s simple attentiveness had reminded her what it felt like to truly be seen.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. Trey’s message wasn’t going to ruin her night—not entirely, at least. There was someone else who could salvage it. Grabbing her phone, she quickly typed out a text.

Change of plans—movie night? You bring the food…and the drinks, and I’ll bring me lol, as per usual.

She hit send, smiling softly at the thought of Aaron rolling his eyes at her dramatic tone but showing up anyway, just like he always did.

Aaron was halfway through folding laundry when his phone buzzed. He picked it up and grinned as soon as he saw YN’s name light up the screen. Her message made him chuckle, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards as he pictured her typing it out, probably with that little smirk she got when she was being cheeky.

Without thinking, his thumbs moved quickly across the keyboard.

You’re lucky I love you.

He hit send before his brain caught up with his hands, and when it did, his heart immediately lodged itself in his throat.

“Shit,” he muttered, staring at the screen like he could will the message back into his drafts. The words sat there, glaring at him in bright blue, and panic surged through his chest. He didn’t mean it—well, he did mean it, just not like that. Or maybe he did mean it like that, but this wasn’t how she was supposed to find out.

Before he could even begin to spiral, her reply popped up, cutting through his panic.

I know I’m lucky. Don’t forget the snacks though 😘.

Aaron blinked at the screen, rereading the message twice just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. A slow exhale escaped him, and the tension in his chest eased, replaced by an unfamiliar warmth spreading through him. He smiled, shaking his head at her nonchalant response. Of course she wouldn’t read too much into it. That was just YN—easygoing, lighthearted, completely unaware of the weight his words carried.

Still, Aaron couldn’t help the way his chest tightened at her reply, a quiet sense of relief mingling with the yearning he couldn’t quite suppress. He grabbed his keys and wallet, his laundry completely forgotten as he headed out to pick up the snacks and drinks.

Somewhere between the corner shop and his flat, the realisation settled over him like a second skin: He wasn’t just lucky to have YN in his life. He was lucky that tonight, at least, he got to be the one to make her smile. And maybe—just maybe—he’d get the chance to do it for a long time to come.

Tonight, for once she wasn’t alone.

Aaron sat at the other end of her sofa, a plate of takeaway balanced on his lap and a bottle of wine between them. The dim light of the television flickered across his face, casting warm shadows in the otherwise cosy room. The air smelled faintly of buttered popcorn, mingling with the rich scent of the red blend he’d brought along. Their laughter had filled the first half of the evening, but now, as the movie reached its slower, quieter scenes, the room had settled into a companionable silence.

A blanket was draped over YN’s lap, and she stretched her legs out, her toes brushing Aaron’s thigh unintentionally. He glanced over at her, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and laced with warmth.

“Very,” she murmured, pulling the blanket higher as her eyes flicked back to the screen. She didn’t move her legs, though, and neither did he.

Aaron’s attention wasn’t on the movie. Instead, his mind lingered on the way her laughter had softened over the past week, her smiles not quite reaching her eyes. He couldn’t shake the memory of Trey’s dismissiveness earlier—the way YN’s expression had faltered, even if only for a second. It had left a dull ache in his chest, one he’d carried ever since.

She reached for her wine glass, her movements slow and deliberate. But there was something distant in her gaze, a quiet melancholy she hadn’t voiced. Without thinking, Aaron picked up the glass she’d been about to grab and replaced it with a fresh pour he’d quietly prepared earlier.

She blinked, glancing at the full glass now in her hand. “When did you…?”

“You looked like you were ready for another,” he said lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. “What can I say? I pay attention.”

Her laugh was soft but genuine, and she shook her head. “Always so thoughtful, Aaron. Thank you.”

“Always,” he echoed, almost to himself. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before turning back to the screen.

But YN wasn’t watching the film anymore. Her gaze rested on him, the flickering light illuminating the quiet thoughtfulness etched across his face. She caught herself staring and quickly looked away, but the moment lingered, heavy with unspoken emotion.

Aaron noticed, of course. He always did. He shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing hers where it rested on the sofa. It wasn’t intentional—or maybe it was—but the contact made his breath hitch.

“You’re too good to me, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice softer than before. There was no teasing in her tone, just quiet sincerity that tightened something in his chest.

He shrugged, keeping his gaze forward. “You make it easy.”

Her silence stretched, and he risked a glance her way. She was watching him again, her brows drawn together in thought. He let the moment settle, waiting for her to speak.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah?”

“You asked me earlier, at the reunion, if I was happy.” Her voice was hesitant, thinking back to a private memory like she was feeling her way through unfamiliar territory.

He nodded slowly, his heart beating hard against his ribs. “I remember.”

“I didn’t answer you,” she continued, curling the blanket tighter around herself. “Not properly, anyway.”

Aaron’s throat felt dry, but he managed to ask, “Are you?”

She hesitated, her eyes dropping to her hands. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like I should be, you know? Like everything’s fine. Trey’s nice, my job’s steady, my life’s not exactly falling apart. But...” She trailed off, chewing on her bottom lip.

“But?” he prompted gently.

Her sigh was heavy, and she leaned her head back against the sofa. “But it’s like I’m waiting for something. Or someone.” Her words were quiet, barely above a whisper, but they hit him with the force of a tidal wave.

Aaron’s hand twitched, instinctively wanting to reach for hers, but he stopped himself. His heart ached for her—for the sadness she was trying to suppress and for the hope her words sparked in him.

“You’ve always been there for me, Aaron,” she said, turning her head to look at him. Her eyes were soft, filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you how much that means to me.”

His throat worked as he tried to find the right words. “You don’t have to. I’ll always be here for you, YN. That’s never going to change.”

Her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile, and she gave his hand a brief squeeze before pulling away. “I know.”

The moment hung between them, unspoken feelings filling the space like a quiet hum. Eventually, YN shifted back into her corner of the sofa, her expression lighter than before.

“Thanks for tonight,” she said softly. “I needed this.”

Aaron forced a smile, masking the storm of emotions swirling within him. “Anytime. You know that.”

And as she turned her attention back to the screen, Aaron allowed himself to hope—just for a moment—that maybe, just maybe, the gap between them was finally starting to close.

Aaron stepped into the quiet of his flat, the faint glow of the city spilling through the window as he set down the bag he’d carried from YN’s. His chest still felt tight, heavy with the weight of everything left unsaid.

He leaned against the kitchen counter, running a hand over his jaw as the events of the night played back in his mind. The way she’d opened up to him, even if only a little, was a crack in the carefully constructed walls she kept between them. But that crack was enough to shake him.

Her words echoed in his ears: “But it’s like I’m waiting for something. Or someone.”

Aaron closed his eyes, exhaling a shaky breath. He knew he couldn’t keep doing this—hovering on the edge, waiting for the perfect moment to tell her how he felt. There would never be a perfect moment. Tonight had been proof enough of that. And the accidental “I love you” text? He’d barely recovered from the panic of seeing it on her screen, but her response... it had calmed him in ways he hadn’t expected.

She hadn’t made it awkward, hadn’t even acknowledged the slip. But it lingered in his chest now, like a quiet truth that refused to be ignored.

He thought of Trey—how casually dismissive he was of her, how blind he seemed to the woman in front of him. It made Aaron’s blood simmer with frustration. He’d seen her light up tonight, even if only in fleeting moments. Her smile when he handed her the wine, the way her laughter had softened as the evening wore on. He wanted to be the reason she smiled like that all the time.

And yet... the fear remained. What if telling her changed everything? What if she wasn’t ready to hear it?

Aaron pushed off the counter and headed for his bedroom, his mind a tangle of hope and hesitation. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling as the darkness pressed in. He thought of the way her hand had lingered near his, the way her eyes had searched his for answers she hadn’t been ready to voice.

She was searching for something. He could feel it. And part of him believed—knew—that what she was searching for had been standing right in front of her all along.

But the timing had to be right.

Aaron turned his head, catching sight of his phone on the bedside table. For a fleeting moment, he considered texting her again, just to say goodnight or to make her laugh. But he stopped himself. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he’d see her again, and maybe, if he could find the courage, he’d stop holding back.

Back at her flat, YN curled into her sofa, the blanket still wrapped around her. The film credits had long since rolled, but she hadn’t bothered to turn the TV off. Her thoughts were far from the screen anyway.

Aaron’s words replayed in her mind: “You make it easy.”

He always had. With him, everything felt effortless—the conversations, the laughter, the quiet understanding that needed no explanation. Tonight had reminded her just how different things were when she was with him.

Her mind drifted to Trey, to the distance that had grown between them in recent weeks. She’d told herself it was normal, that all relationships ebbed and flowed, but the truth was harder to face. Trey didn’t see her—not the way Aaron did. He didn’t notice the little things, didn’t make her feel like her quirks and passions mattered.

But Aaron...

She sighed, leaning her head back against the sofa. The thought tugged at her, gentle but persistent: Maybe what I’ve been waiting for has been in front of me all along.

Her phone buzzed on the table, and her heart leapt for a moment before she realised it wasn’t Aaron. It was Trey, a quick, apologetic text about having to bail tonight. YN stared at the message, her chest tightening with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

Setting the phone down, she let her mind wander back to Aaron’s smile, the warmth in his voice when he said, “I’ll always be here for you.” It wasn’t just words with him. He meant it, in a way that made her chest ache with equal parts gratitude and something else—something she wasn’t ready to name just yet.

But tonight had left her with one certainty: Aaron made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t realised she’d been craving. And as she finally turned off the TV and headed to bed, that thought stayed with her, wrapping around her like the blanket she still clutched.

taglist: @writingsbytee @venusincleo @nickidub718 @kxllanxtdoor

comments and reblogs are appreciated as well as feedback, i hope you liked it 🫶🏾🫶🏾����🏾

[butternutt613]

PSA!!! IT IS OKAY TO CHANGE YOUR STORY HALFWAY THROUGH OR TO NOT HAVE IT BE PERFECT!!!

Fanfic writers (myself included) are way too hard on ourselves sometimes. I was chatting with a few amazing creators on Discord about this, and I realized just how much pressure we put on ourselves to make everything perfect.

Let me remind you: it’s completely okay if your story isn’t flawless right out of the gate.

The way I see it, fanfics, and most things posted on AO3 or Wattpad are like first drafts. ESPECIALLY!!!!! when you’re still actively writing your story. You’re still figuring things out, shaping the narrative, and building the world. It’s not set in stone, and it’s okay to make changes as you go. Hell, completely rewrite it!

So many of us get caught up in trying to make our stories perfect from chapter one because we’re scared that if it’s not, no one will read it. I experience imposter syndrome so hard lol

But NEWSFLASH!!! Even published authors don’t create flawless stories from the start. Their first drafts are messy, full of edits, rewrites, and changes. Entire chapters get cut, characters get reworked, and sometimes entire backstories get scrapped. AND THEN!!! EVEN WHEN THEY THINK THEY ARE DONE!!! THEIR EDITORS GIVE THEM 39 THINGS TO CHANGE!!!

If that’s how the ‘pros’ do it, why are we holding ourselves to an impossible standard?

And I’m going to be so real with you right now… 99.99% of the time, the characters we write about aren’t even canon or have never even interacted in canon or only had 2.3 lines of dialog (I'm looking at you, Jegulus….)

That’s the magic of fanfiction. You get to create something ENTIRELY NEW. You get to take these characters and give them experiences and a life the og author never did or never could. Fanfiction is about imagination and creation, not about rigid rules.

There will always, ALWAYS, be someone who says "you're doing it wrong” or “that character wouldn't do that” and I'm sorry to break it to them but idk if you know this but… THEY AREN’T REAL!

If I want these two guy best friends to kiss, I will! If I want my MC to save Anne by perfecting Isadora’s magic, I will! If you want Ominis to say “fuck you” to his family or Sebastian to become a healer or an auror or a potions master, then GODDAMMIT YOU DO THAT!

BECAUSE YOU ARE WRITING YOUR STORY!! It is YOURS, not anyone else's. You’re the author. Your creative process is valid and so is your work, even if you decide to change direction halfway through. (Elsa was originally going to be evil…)

There will always be haters. Even when something is canon, there are people who’ll criticize it (seriously like look at flat earthers….) That’s why you can’t let the fear of criticism hold you back. Write what YOU love. Create what brings YOU joy. The right people will find your work and appreciate it for what it is.

At the end of the day, fanfiction is about expression and connection. Whether you’re writing for an audience of hundreds or just for yourself, it’s yours. You’re building a world, shaping characters, and sharing something that came from your heart. And that’s what makes it meaningful. So stop being so hard on yourself. Keep WRITING. Keep CREATING. KEEP COMING UP WITH FUN HEADCANONS!!!

Your story deserves to be told. And you deserve to have fun and love doing it.

*mic drop* *peace sign*

[margeoww]

Hey, I think I already requested this, but I didn’t specify what I meant. I asked about if you’d be up to writing an alternative 2nd part to “too wide a divide” where reader finds out she is pregnant?? Like before they got back together. Maybe happy ending??

Too Wide a Divide: Alternative Ending

part 1 | part 2 (endl 1) | part 2 (end 2)

pairing: toto wolff x fem!reader

summary: months after toto and the reader part ways due to the disapproval of her family, she finds out she’s pregnant. Torn between resentment and longing, she debates whether to tell him. Fate intervenes when their paths cross again, leading to a heartfelt confrontation and the possibility of a second chance.

It had been three months since that night when everything fell apart. His words still echoed in your mind:

“I can’t keep going, knowing your family is tearing you apart because of me. I can’t be the reason you’re suffering.”

The memory was a knife that twisted in your chest every time you let yourself think about him. You’d tried to move on, but the ache lingered like a shadow. His scent still clung faintly to your pillow, and when Formula 1 broadcasts filled your living room, your gaze always searched for him, despite yourself.

But something else had begun to demand your attention. It started subtly—a faint nausea when you woke up, an overwhelming fatigue that had you retreating to bed far earlier than usual. At first, you dismissed it as stress. The breakup had taken a toll on your body and mind.

But one morning, as you sat at your kitchen table trying to stomach your coffee, a wave of dizziness struck you so strongly you had to grip the counter for support. You froze. Your mind pieced together the symptoms, and a cold realization settled over you.

An hour later, you stood in the bathroom, a test in hand, staring at two unmistakable lines.

You were pregnant.

The discovery left you paralyzed. Joy and fear warred within you. A part of you thrilled at the thought of a life growing inside you, something so uniquely yours and Toto’s. But then, the doubts crept in.

What would Toto say? The question haunted you. Could you even tell him? After all, he had been the one to leave, to decide that love wasn’t enough to overcome the barriers between you. Would he see this child as another complication?

And then there was your family. The disapproving looks, the harsh words they had thrown your way when they learned about your relationship with Toto. You could only imagine their reaction now.

But despite the fear, one thing was clear: this baby was yours to love and protect. And no matter how daunting the path ahead seemed, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Weeks passed, and you kept the secret to yourself. You focused on preparing for the baby, slowly coming to terms with the reality of doing this on your own.

That all changed on a crisp winter afternoon. Leaving your first ultrasound appointment, you were tucking the image of your baby into your bag when you saw him.

Toto stood in the hospital lobby, speaking with someone you didn’t recognize. His tall frame and familiar presence made your heart lurch painfully. You tried to turn away, to slip out unnoticed, but fate wasn’t on your side. He looked up, his piercing eyes meeting yours across the room.

—You’re here —he said —his deep voice laced with surprise as he stepped toward you.

You froze, unsure what to say, until his gaze fell to where your hand rested protectively over your stomach. His expression shifted, confusion melting into realization.

—Is it…? —His voice trailed off, his eyes wide.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. There was no point in hiding it now.

—Yes. —you said softly. —It’s yours.

Toto’s face was a mixture of emotions—shock, disbelief, and something deeper, something raw that made your chest tighten. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, as if the words refused to form.

—Can we talk? —he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

You hesitated. The urge to run was strong, but you knew this moment was inevitable. Nodding, you led him outside to a nearby bench. The winter air bit at your skin, but the cold was nothing compared to the tension between you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. He was staring at the ground, his jaw clenched. You could feel his struggle to find the right words, and finally, he looked up, his dark eyes locking with yours.

—I didn’t know. —he said, his voice heavy. —If I had known… I…

You cut him off, shaking your head.

—If you had known, would it have changed anything? You made your choice, Toto. You walked away because you didn’t think we could make it work.

Your voice cracked, but you pushed through.

—I wasn’t going to tell you. I thought… I thought it would be easier for both of us. You left, and I wasn’t going to beg you to come back. But now…

You paused, placing a hand on your belly. The gesture was unconscious, but his eyes followed it, softening as he looked at you again.

—Now you need to know, because this baby deserves to have both parents if that’s what you want. I won’t force you to stay. I’ve already decided to do this on my own if I have to.

Toto’s brows furrowed, and he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the ground again.

—You think I wouldn’t want to be here? —he asked, his voice quiet but firm. —You think I’d walk away from you? From them?

He sat up straight, his expression resolute.

—Yes, I made a mistake. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go. I thought I was protecting you from the pressure, from your family’s disapproval. But it was the worst decision of my life.

His voice wavered, but he pressed on.

—I still love you. I never stopped. And now… Now we have a chance to build something, to be a family. Please, let me prove it to you.

Your heart ached at his words. You wanted to believe him, to trust that he meant every word. But the pain of his leaving still lingered.

—This isn’t just about me anymore, Toto. If you’re here, it has to be for both of us, me and the baby. Not because you feel guilty, not because it’s the right thing to do.

He reached for your hand, his fingers warm despite the cold.

—I’m here because I want to be, he said softly. —Because I love you, and I already love them. I want to fix this. I want to be in your life, in their life.

Tears burned in your eyes as you searched his face for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. He was serious, and for the first time in months, you felt a glimmer of hope.

—Okay, you said. —your voice trembling. —But this is going to take time.

Toto nodded, squeezing your hand.

—As much time as you need. I’ll be here.

The months that followed weren’t easy. Trust had to be rebuilt, and the wounds of the past didn’t heal overnight. But Toto was there for every step of the journey—doctor’s appointments, nursery shopping, late-night cravings.

He made mistakes, of course, but he worked tirelessly to prove his commitment, not just to you, but to the family you were creating together.

The day your baby was born, Toto was by your side, holding your hand as tears streamed down his face. When he held the baby for the first time, his broad shoulders seemed to shake under the weight of his emotions.

—He is perfect. —he whispered, his voice thick with tears. —Just like their mother.

You watched as he cradled the tiny bundle, his hands so careful and steady, as if he were holding the most precious thing in the world. In that moment, the doubts and fears that had haunted you for months seemed to dissolve.

Toto looked up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of love and determination.

—I’ll never let you down again. —he said softly. —Both of you.

You smiled through your tears, reaching out to stroke the baby’s cheek.

—We’ll hold you to that. —you replied, your voice light but full of meaning.

The three of you sat there in the quiet room, the chaos of the past forgotten as you embraced this new chapter. It wasn’t the fairy tale you’d once imagined, but it was real, and it was yours.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, the divide between you didn’t feel so wide anymore.

[windvexer]

Hey chicken, I got hold of a pdf of scott cunningham " earth power" and "earth air fire and water " and something that confuses me in some spells is the method used relating to the goal. For example:

In one to help break bad habits, it says to write this bad habit in a a leaf, take it to a tree and bury close to the roots. Then put an offering for the tree in the same hole, cover it up and pour some water on the spot

But couldn't this action of burying and watering, be seen as "planting" the bad habit? And if you are planting it would grow...

Another one is for love/relationship, where with a burned stick you draw two hearts interwined in a piece of paper, visualizing a satisfying relationship and then put some rose petals in the paper, fold it and burn it in a candle or fire.

He describes that as it burns the power is released

But it makes me think that burning your wish in the paper would have an opposite effect, like destroying the wish

Idk. What do you thinks of those "mechanics" of spells? Am I overthinking?

Hi! I've never read those books and I'm not a Wiccan.

So I can only comment from my own perspective, which may be the incorrect perspective to accurately interpret what Cunningham is saying.

You are not over-thinking; you have stumbled onto a very important aspect of sorcery and one that is good to think about.

How is it that sometimes, a box is used to trap and bind energies, but at other times a box can be used to coalesce and radiate helpful energies?

How is it that a candle can both open portals and close portals? How can a candle both be banishing of spirits, and an offering to spirits?

How can burying something in the earth not only be destructive or even an aspect of curses, but also be a technique of prosperity and growth?

The reality is that burying something isn't magic and it doesn't do anything. Lighting a candle isn't magic and doesn't do anything.

"Doing magic" is not taking a leaf and writing things on it and burying it. A mundane person can do these things in a mundane way and no magic will occur.

Nothing is automatically happening; burying something neither automatically causes an act of banishing, nor an act of conjuring.

As the practitioner, it is you yourself who determines what happens. This is the vital and inexorable power of 'setting intent.'

The tree does not decide what happens to your habits leaf. The earth does not decide what happens to your habits leaf. YOU decide what happens to it.

No, it isn't strictly true that burying things is always an action of generative planting. A very popular form of cursing is to turn an apple into someone and then bury them to rot. But the Earth can also gently break things down through the cycle of decay. Or it can trap things, like a cave-in.

We see all of these things occurring in nature; of course you can plant seeds to grow strong. Of course if you bury a body it will rot. Of course leafs slowly decay and their particles return to nature.

All of these things are valid.

YOU decide which one happens. This decision is germinated with intent; it is gestated with technique. YOU are the creator god. The leaf is clay in your hands, and you can decide:

You are the body of the beloved that broke my heart, as this leaf decays their joy will decay.

You are the mustard seed that returns a hundredfold harvest, mightest among trees.

You are the leaf of the forest floor, breaking down and returning to nature, just as my bad habits break down and return to source.

It is not a leaf. It is not planting. It is a spell. You create the reality of what the leaf really is, and you dictate how it must try to interact with its environment.

It must be good with you, or it is not a good spell*.

So if you personally cannot get around the idea that burying something will always be an action of generative "planting," then you shouldn't do the spell like that!

It's not an issue of "wrong belief." You may be following valid intuition. You may be at a time in your practice where the Earth calls you to plant things to grow. You may be at a time in your practice where fire whispers sweet promises of destruction to you.

Explore what's around you and what you're feeling! Change the methods if you don't think they're right for you.

But it is also untrue to say that putting things into the earth is always an act of planting. It can be many things.

*This is not true but this is a post, not a book.

[kittysarchive]

Hii! :3

I don't know if this is accepted but I recently lost my cat to cancer which I've had for 10 years. Would you be able to write about how ot7 would comfort y/n who lost their beloved pet?

hiiii, of course you can ask for this! sorry for your loss :(

assuming this is for enhypen

Heeseung

Heeseung found you sitting on the balcony, the chill in the air matching the cold ache in your heart. You hugged your knees to your chest, lost in thought. He walked over quietly, sitting beside you.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice filled with concern.You didn’t respond immediately, but that didn’t deter him.

“I know it hurts right now,” he continued, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “When I lost my pet, it felt like the whole world stopped. Like nothing could ever fill that void.”

His words surprised you, drawing your attention. “You lost a pet, too?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Heeseung nodded, a bittersweet smile on his lips.

“Yeah. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through. But you know what helped? Remembering the good times.”

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you said, your voice trembling but sincere. He smiled, pulling you into a hug. “Anytime. I’m here for you.”

Jay

Jay found you sitting at the kitchen table, staring blankly at a cup of tea. He could see the grief weighing on you, and without a word, he sat across from you.

“I’m here,” he said simply, his voice steady and comforting. You didn’t respond right away, but when you finally looked up, tears filled your eyes.

“I feel like a part of me is missing,” you admitted. Jay nodded, his expression serious but kind.

“That’s because they were such a big part of your life. It’s okay to feel this way. It just shows how much you cared about them.”

Jay encouraged you to talk, asking about your favorite memories with your cat. As you shared stories, his thoughtful questions helped you remember the joy your pet had brought into your life.

Later, Jay excused himself and returned with a small box. Inside was a plush toy resembling your cat.

“I thought you might like this,” he said, his cheeks slightly red. “It’s not the same, but maybe it’ll bring you some comfort.”

Tears streamed down your face as you held the plush close. “Thank you, Jay. This means so much.”

He spent the rest of the evening with you, cooking your favourite meal and sitting by your side. “You’re not alone in this,” he said before leaving. “I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

Jake

Jake found you in the living room, staring at your cat’s collar in your hands. The sadness etched on your face broke his heart. Being an animal lover himself, Jake understood the depth of your pain. He walked over and sat next to you, his presence warm and reassuring.

“I know how much they meant to you,” he said softly, “They were family, and it’s okay to feel this way. It just shows how much you loved them.”

His sincerity made your eyes well up with tears, and you whispered, “I feel so empty without them.” Jake nodded, his expression gentle. “It’s hard. Pets are special—they’re there for you when no one else is, and they love you unconditionally. Your cat knew how much you loved them.”

Jake stood up and gestured for you to follow him. He led you outside to the garden. “I thought we could do something to honour them,” he said, handing you a small packet of flower seeds.

“Let’s plant these together. Every time they bloom, you can remember the happy moments you shared.”

As you knelt together, planting the seeds, Jake shared stories of his own pets, making you smile through your tears. By the time you finished, the garden felt a little brighter, and so did your heart. “They’ll always be with you,” Jake said, squeezing your hand.

Sunghoon

You sat on the couch, clutching your cat’s favorite toy, tears streaming silently down your face. Sunghoon entered the room, his usual composed expression softened with concern. Without saying a word, he sat down beside you, his presence calming. After a few moments, he gently asked, “Can you tell me about them?”

His question opened the floodgates, and you found yourself reminiscing about your cat’s quirks—the way they’d always nuzzle your cheek or chase shadows on the walls. Sunghoon listened intently, nodding and occasionally smiling at the stories.

“It’s clear they loved you just as much as you loved them,” he said softly.

Later, he disappeared into his room, returning with a small wooden frame. Inside was a picture of your cat he had printed from your social media.

“I thought you’d like to have this,” he said, placing it gently in your hands. Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

Sunghoon stayed with you the rest of the evening, his quiet presence a source of comfort. When you finally drifted off to sleep, the framed picture sat on the nightstand beside you, a reminder of the love that would always remain.

Sunoo

Sunoo didn’t say anything at first when he saw you crying in your room. Instead, he sat down beside you, tears already brimming in his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his voice trembling with emotion. “I know how much you loved them. They were such a big part of your life.”

Hearing his empathetic words made you cry even harder, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you.

“It’s okay to let it all out,” he whispered, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. “They were family, and it’s hard to say goodbye.” Once your sobs subsided, Sunoo grabbed his phone.

“Let’s look at some cute pictures and videos of them,” he suggested, a small smile breaking through his sadness. Together, you scrolled through your photo gallery, reminiscing about your cat’s playful moments and their loveable quirks.

“That one!” Sunoo exclaimed, laughing through his tears at a video of your cat chasing a laser pointer.

“They were so full of energy!” His laughter was contagious, and for the first time that day, you found yourself smiling.

Jungwon

The house was quiet, but the air felt heavy. You sat curled up on the floor, staring blankly at an empty corner where your cat’s bed used to be. Jungwon found you there, his heart sinking at the sight of your slumped shoulders. Without hesitation, he sat beside you, close but not too close, respecting your space.

He didn’t speak right away, giving you time to process. When you finally whispered, “I miss them so much,” his eyes softened, and he nodded.

“I know. Losing someone you love, even a pet, feels like losing a part of yourself.” His words were simple but comforting, like a warm blanket on a cold day. He encouraged you to share memories of your cat, asking,

“What did they do that made you laugh the most?” Slowly, a faint smile broke through your grief as you recounted your cat’s antics—like the time they jumped into a box too small for them. Jungwon laughed along, his genuine reaction lifting your spirits.

A few hours later, Jungwon handed you a folded piece of paper. “I wrote this for you,” he said shyly. Inside was a heartfelt note: “Even though they’re not here anymore, the love you shared will always stay with you. They’ll always be a part of your heart

You hugged him tightly, tears streaming again, but this time, they felt lighter. He stayed by your side, determined to help you heal, one small step at a time.”

NIKI

Ni-ki didn’t know what to say when he saw you sitting silently on the edge of your bed, holding a photo of your cat. He hesitated for a moment before walking over and sitting next to you. “I... I’m sorry,” he said awkwardly but sincerely. “I wish I could make it better.”

You looked at him, your lips trembling. “It just hurts so much,” you murmured. Ni-ki nodded, his usual energetic demeanour replaced with quiet thoughtfulness.

“I know it’s not the same, but when I moved away from my family, I felt really empty, too. It’s hard to lose someone—or something—you love.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small plush keychain. “I know it’s not much, but I thought this might help,” he said, handing it to you. It was a tiny cat plush, its soft fur similar to your pet’s. “I saw it earlier and thought of you.”

The gesture brought fresh tears to your eyes, but you smiled. “Thank you, Ni-ki. This means a lot.”

Ni-ki spent the rest of the day with you, distracting you with video games and jokes. Whenever he saw your sadness creeping back, he’d nudge you and say, “They wouldn’t want you to be sad, you know. They’d want you to remember all the fun you had together.”

[reyesstrand]

wish you would write a fic of tarlos where marjan and joe’s wedding is set about the time carlos is due to go back to work, he’s recovered from his gunshot wound, he’s had his stitches out, he’s been cleared for active duty by his doctor and he’s prepared as much as he can for jonah’s adoption placement with him and tk (right, like it’s a carlos one shot so it focuses entirely on him because we saw literally nothing of him, bar crumbs in the episode)

Carlos can’t sleep.

It feels a little bit like his body’s talking back at him, suddenly a petulant child. A game of mess around and find out, since he spent months pushing himself to the limit even if it cost him sunlight, or nutrition, or something more than a handful of hours of sleep a night. Because here he is, at almost three in the morning, blinking up at the ceiling, tracing the faint veins of the plaster with his eyes.

He goes back to work in two days. It’s been nearly a month of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy; of allowing himself to find joy, again: in the simple pleasures of cooking lavish breakfasts, in getting coffee and scouring flea markets with his mom, in game nights with the friends he’s missed like limbs, in TK. They dance in the kitchen, they make love in their moonlight-drenched bedroom, they talk, sometimes for hours on end, their legs tangled and heartbeats syncing.

And in four days, they have a meeting that could change their lives. Will change their lives. Carlos is ready for it—he wants all of it, wants to give TK’s little brother a home and a life that’s filled with warmth and promise—but it still makes him anxious. He doesn’t want to mess this up.

Next to him, TK stirs, like he knows Carlos is ruminating. His nose pushes into the back of Carlos’ neck, his arm tightening over his middle. They’d fallen into bed in a heap after the reception, both of them sweaty from dancing and latent with desire after being around so much love, and though the blue hours of night leave them encased in shadows Carlos knows exactly where every little mark is on TK’s skin; where his beard left red patches he soothed over with wet kisses.

“What’s up?” TK asks him, though with his sleep-slurred speech it sounds more like whassup.

“Nothing,” Carlos tries, even though it’s futile. “Go back to sleep.”

TK’s pulled more into consciousness, his voice growing stronger. “Not until you tell me what’s bugging you.”

“Nothing, really,” Carlos insists, finding it hard to explain. TK’s thumb finds the fading, yellowed bruise nestled into the curve of Carlos’ ribcage, and strokes over the skin absentmindedly. “I’m just thinking. About you, about work. About Jonah.”

“It’s a lot,” TK murmurs, his touch as gentle as feathers; as soft wool.

“I kept thinking about it tonight. How our family’s going to grow.”

TK’s quiet, letting him slowly talk himself into the point he wants to get to.

“And I’m—I’m scared about it. I think I always will be. But I can’t imagine wanting anything more than I want this.”

TK hums. “Weddings make you a little sappy, huh.”

“Shut up,” Carlos laughs, knowing they’re both thinking of their own big day, and how they’d both cried more times than they could count. “I talked to Joe a little bit, when you guys first pulled Marjan away.”

Visions of it swim in shimmery lights in his mind, as he recalls Nancy and Paul and Mateo and TK, even Tommy and Judd, pulling Marjan away before her so-called glam team arrived at the firehouse. Carlos had been close on their heels to follow and join in on whatever little toast they were going to insist upon with their friend, the heart of the 126, and he did make it to the bunks before the last glass of sparkling cider had been poured. But first he found Joe admiring the space, the decorations that still needed fine-tuning, and appreciated their brief conversation as he always does.

“He said how it happened so quickly because neither of them could bear to wait any longer,�� Carlos continues, turning now in his husband’s grip so they can face each other. “And I know we joked about a quick ceremony right after you proposed but I-I feel the same. We never…we never know what tomorrow will bring. I wouldn’t change a thing, TK, and I wouldn’t change a thing about what we’re doing now.”

TK’s eyes glisten. They could blame it on the post-wedding glow, but they both know this is just what they do to each other. “Me neither, baby.”

They’re close enough that their noses brush; they give into the pull, and press them together before exchanging a kiss that says I love you, and another that says forever.

(i wish you would write a fic where…game!)

[daydreaming-paradies]

Hiiii!! First of all, how are you? Is your request box open?

If it is, can I perhaps request a Kaeya x GN/F!reader? They could be babysitting Klee or on a date. Anything really, just fluff. A little bird told me you are about to write some angst for him, so why not bring some balance?

Thank you in advance!

Hello Daydreamer and yes, I am taking request though the process is slow.

Love in Winter

ᡣ𐭩Pair: Kaeya x F!reader

ᡣ𐭩 Warnings: Fluff, Kaeya being a sly little shit and that is it.

Song to listen: Snowman by Sia

It is Winter so Mondstadt is coated in its pearly white blanket and for you, you are excited since winter is here and you cannot wait to experience the joy with your lovely boyfriend, Kaeya. Speaking of Kaeya, a firm pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind as a flirty sly voice that always makes you wanna squeal.  “Hello my dear.” Kaeya spoke as he whispered in your ear. “You look like you want to leave and run out in the cold but I would advise against it since we don’t want to repeat last time.”

You could look away as memories of the last winter appear in your mind. You went a bit too crazy, playing with the snow and you got sick for the remainder of it. Jean’s disapproval glare still haunts you to this day.

A sigh left your lips. Kaeya is right..history will repeat itself if you pull that stunt again. “Okay, Kae.” you spoke with a huff. “I will not pull that stunt again. I do not want Jean to glare at me with disapproval.” The cavalry Captain laughed at this and pinched your cheeks. “That is a good girl so you do follow orders. Bravo.” the man teased which earned him a punch on the stomach. “O-Ow! Hahah. That hurt babe.” Kaeya says as he looks up to see your flustered expression while you try your damndest to not melt at the praise. Kayea won’t lie that he found it cute but if he admits it then you will punch him again which he did not want. “Come. Let us go. I want to see your face lit up when we go outside.”

Well Kaeya does not have to say it twice when you are already out of the room, out of the house and outside. He only chuckles and shakes his head with an affectionate smile before following you after putting his coat on. But when he opened the door, he was reminded yet again why you got sick. Your footprints can be seen from where he is at to the gate of Mondstadt. ‘I forgot how fast she is in Winter. Looks like I need to tape something on her back so she will be easily found.’ the man thought to himself before following the footprints to the gate of Mondstadt where you were waiting for Kaeya. “There you are.” He spoke up after approaching you. “I always wonder why Lisa calls you winter rabbit and she is right.” He chuckles when you pout at him. “Haha, don’t worry. I found it cute.”

The crunchy sounds when you and Kaeya walk in the snow hand in hand fills the air in comfortable silence. “So, dear. How was your babysitting with Klee?” Kaeya asked as you suddenly perked up and started to rant about it. He always loves seeing you smile, hearing you rant about anything that comes to your mind makes him want to love you more and more. “Ah. You join Klee in fish bombing? No wonder Grandmaster Jean looks so done.” the man chuckled as you huffed. “Well in my defense, I never want to miss this opportunity and Klee’s puppy dog eyes won me over.” This made Kaeya burst out laughing as he knew you love children but those puppy dog eyes are always your weakness. “That is you alright.” Kayea hum before looking at the view with you at starnatch cliff.

“You know..” Kaeya started. “We have been together for 3 years. You see my flaws but never judge me for it.” You turn to glance at your boyfriend but you listen to him. “You stay by my side when the world is against me.” Kaeya reaches his hand to his eyepatch and takes it off, revealing a scar over his eye with his iris is the same color but his lens are black. “I want to live the rest of my life with you..” Kaeya turns around, gets on his knees and pulls out a ring box. “Will you make me the happiest man alive…and marry me?” He asked you as you were shocked and surprised. You always talk about wanting to marry Kaeya for life and you thought Kayea will just mess with you but he actually listens. Your eyes began to get glossy with tears as you nodded your head. “Yes! A million times yes.” A warm genuine smile appears on Kaeya’s face before he stands up, slips the ring in your ring finger before pulling you in a warm kiss. You were sobbing in happiness as your dream finally came true so Kaeya lifted you up bridal style and walked the way back to Mondstadt to share the news.

Congratulations reader and Kaeya, may the anemo archon bless your lives.

~Taglist: @areislol @husky-studies @windblume-wishes @thestarswhisper @dailypenpen @mikashisus @yuan4i @wystiix @worldsxtar @yoghurtsan @sweetlyvibe @ddivilove @bbasorexja @bibiddibobiddi-boo @sundaysareformoshi

[fanged-fanfics]

Hai :P !!! Could I request Vittorino x reader hcs? :3 thank you 🙏

☆ I'll Write A Symphony For The Departed — Vittorino x GN Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

ᯓᡣ𐭩 A hard man to get close to, but one who loves wholly once you get past his partially unnerving and cold exterior. He didn't expect you to slot yourself into his ribs and fit so snugly next to his heart, but now it's all he thinks about

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He primarily spends quality time with you as a love language, largely within the walls of the Basilica. He keeps an eye on you to make sure you don't get lost, keeping close to your side as he talks on and on about the cryptic history of the place

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You eventually become one of few people able to drag him out of the old holy building and get him to spend some time outside, something Accardi and Juliek congratulate you for. Vittorino takes you to his hangouts with them frequently

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He absolutely loves hearing words of affirmation from you. He initially takes it in stride, casually noting that it would be expected that he would be recognized for all the miracles he brings. But he softens over time, and let's it really sink in that someone could think so highly of him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The first time you attempted to hold his hand, he almost didn't react. His hands don't have working nerves, so on top of gloves that made it hard to sense your fingers intertwining with his until your shoulders brushed together

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Carries a lot of stress that he has problems communicating, so physical contact is the best way to help him relax. He melts easily if you play with his hair or cup his cheek, he finds it easy to lean into your warmth when he can feel it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Protective. He will make comments if he thinks you're hanging around someone who he doesn't like or trust, and very distrustful to anyone who isn't you whenever meeting new people. He'll get passive-aggressive to whoever it is and try to keep them distant from you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Easy nickname to get him flustered is "dove", as it's one of his favorite animals. He gets embarrassed whenever you use sappy nicknames, but personal ones are double as effective. Though he'll quickly think of an Italian one to give you in return

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Sleeps better if you're co-sleeping with him. Stays wrapped around you the entire night, closely tucked into your comforting presence as night terrors and memories of his past are at least more bearable for once

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Not shy to showing affection when it's just you two, he's prone to winding rambles of praise while holding you close. You're the closest thing a strayed man of the divine could get to the warmth of promised eternal joy, and he shows you this through staying by your side and always keeping attentive to you

[rmadridcore]

Under the Storm

Pairing: Aurélien Tchouaméni x Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, you and Aurélien share a moment of intense passion and intimacy, wrapped in each other completely.

Word Count: 2.8K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: okayy, i’ve been wanting to write for Tchou for a while but i couldn’t find proper inspo. apparently a tiktok edit i saw the other was all i needed 😭 here it is, hope you guys like it! tell me your opinions and also whether i should write for him more 🤍

The rain drummed gently against the windows, a soothing rhythm that filled the room with a sense of calm. The world outside was washed in shades of gray, the kind of weather that begged for blankets and whispered conversations. From the moment you opened your eyes that morning, the gloomy weather made you groan, casting a darker shadow over your mood. Starting the day with such horrific weather was never ideal, but your spirits lifted the moment you realized both you and your boyfriend had a day off. This dreadful rainy day could be transformed into a cozy, intimate one — filled with nothing but lounging around the house and basking in the warmth of your love.

Simple days with Aurélien always felt extra special. He had a way of making even the most mundane activities feel like extraordinary moments. It was his magic, his superpower: the ability to make you feel loved and excited at all times. His presence, his scent, his jokes, his face — everything about him was enough to bring you joy, contentment, and comfort, no matter the setting.

Especially now, as the two of you were sprawled on the couch in your shared home, limbs tangled together, your head resting on his firm chest. His hand moved softly through your hair in slow, soothing strokes. The faint, familiar scent of him filled your senses, intoxicating and comforting all at once. You fell asleep and woke up next to him every day, but his scent never failed to make you dizzy. That fresh, woody aroma, it was the smell of home.

Aurélien’s fingers threaded through your hair in a slow, rhythmic motion, while his lips left occasional, tender kisses on your head. The two of you were half-watching a silly movie, but when it ended, neither of you bothered to put on something else. The quiet, comfortable intimacy of the moment was far more captivating.

“You smell so nice,” you murmured, voicing the thought that had been swirling in your mind for a good twenty minutes.

He chuckled softly. “You tell me that almost every day.” His voice held a smile.

“That’s because you smell nice every day,” you replied, nuzzling closer into his chest. He responded with another soft kiss to your head.

“Stay here forever,” he murmured after a moment of silence, his voice barely above a whisper as his fingers lazily massaged your scalp.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but I actually live here,” you teased, a playful lilt in your tone.

“No, like… forever. Right here. With me,” he said, his voice warm but serious, as though he were pouring his soul into those words.

Your heart melted at his sincerity. “Baby,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jawline. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, ever.” You kissed him again, this time on the lips, a quick, tender peck before resting your head back on his chest.

“Keep stroking my hair, or I’m outta here this second,” you warned playfully when he paused for a moment. His soft laugh vibrated against your cheek as he resumed his gentle strokes.

You began placing soft kisses along his jawline, intending to keep things innocent and savor the simplicity of just being close to him. But those soft kisses soon deepened into open-mouthed ones. You tried to stop yourself, wanting to hold onto the moment’s pure comfort a little longer, but the feel of his smooth skin, his intoxicating scent, and the soft, shallow breaths he let out when your lips met his skin made it impossible to pull away.

His hand slid from your hair to your waist, pulling you even closer as his lips sought yours. The rain continued its soothing rhythm against the windows, but inside, the room was filled with warmth — the kind of heat that chased away the chill of any gray day.

With his lips finding yours and your hand cupping his gorgeous face, Aurélien slipped his tongue into your mouth, not letting you catch your breath. Your lips moved in perfect sync, an unspoken understanding passing between you both with every kiss. His kisses were always special — warm, consuming, and utterly mesmerizing. The moment his mouth met yours, it was like the world beyond the two of you ceased to exist.

Without warning, he gently laid you back on the couch, his lips never leaving yours. His movements were deliberate but tender, a balance of passion and care that left you breathless. His hands framed your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as though he were committing every inch of your skin to memory. Slowly, he trailed his lips down to your neck, leaving a path of open-mouthed kisses that sent shivers coursing through your body. When his mouth reached your collarbone, a soft hum escaped your lips, and he paused to glance at you, his gaze dark and smoldering.

Sliding to his knees in front of the couch, his hand moved to the button of your pants. His fingers worked the fabric open with a deliberate slowness that sent your pulse racing. He lowered the fabric down your legs, his touch lingering, as though savoring the feel of your skin beneath his hands.

“I want to make you feel good, angel,” he whispered, his voice sultry and smooth, wrapping around you like silk. Your chest rose and fell quickly, anticipation coiling tightly in your core as you nodded in acknowledgment, unable to find your voice.

Aurélien lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder, his lips brushing feather-light kisses along the other leg until he reached your inner thigh. Each kiss was tender, yet it left a trail of heat in its wake. You couldn’t resist the urge to tug off your top, revealing the delicate lace of your bra. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his lips curling into a cheeky smile before resuming his path.

He kissed the inside of your thighs with a deliberate intent, sucking gently until tiny purple marks bloomed against your skin. The teasing was almost unbearable, and you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips.

“Please, Aurélien,” you pleaded, your voice laced with impatience and longing.

His eyes met yours, a playful glint sparking in them. “What do you need, sweet thing?”

“Everything. Your tongue. Your fingers. Please...please.” The words tumbled from your lips, your need overwhelming your usual composure.

“Patience, baby,” he teased, his lips grazing tantalizingly close to where you craved him most. The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk at your frustrated sigh.

Finally, his hands hooked around the waistband of your underwear, easing it down and leaving you exposed to him. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips against your clit, his tongue curling expertly around the sensitive nub. The sensation was electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Your hips bucked instinctively, but his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you firmly in place. One hand slid up to your stomach, splaying against your skin to steady you as he flattened his tongue against your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

“You’re so beautiful. So wet. Is this all for me?” he murmured between strokes, his voice dripping with admiration. You nodded hastily, your breath coming in short gasps as his tongue continued its relentless assault.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as his mouth and fingers worked in perfect harmony. He glanced up briefly, his dark eyes locking onto your flushed face before increasing the pace of his fingers. They moved inside you with precision, curling just right to hit the spot that made your back arch and your moans grow louder.

“You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. His words sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, amplifying the intensity of your pleasure. He squeezed your hand gently, the reassurance grounding you even as your orgasm built to a peak.

Your body trembled, a shudder rippling through you as your climax overtook you. A deep moan escaped your throat, your head falling back against the couch as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Aurélien stayed with you through every moment, his touch steady and comforting as he helped you ride out your high.

When your breathing finally began to slow, he climbed back up to you, his movements unhurried and tender. He brushed your hair away from your face, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and cheeks. “It’s okay,” he cooed, his voice gentle and soothing. Your eyes remained closed as you basked in the warmth of his embrace, your heart still racing but your soul utterly at peace.

You mindlessly pulled him closer, burying your face in his neck. The aftermath of your powerful climax left you craving his warmth and gentle reassurances. “Take me upstairs,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but full of longing. You kissed his neck softly, your hand trailing down his abdomen with deliberate intent.

“Okay, baby. Let’s go upstairs,” Aurélien replied, his tone filled with both tenderness and mischief.

Without wasting a second, you grabbed his hand and stood, leading him eagerly toward the staircase. “Eager girl,” he teased, his smirk evident in his voice as he followed your hurried steps.

“Need you to catch up,” you shot back playfully, glancing over your shoulder as you reached his room. “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you silenced him by wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into another kiss. It was deep and consuming, leaving no room for argument. Together, your hands found the hem of his sweater, tugging it over his head in one smooth motion. You couldn’t help but admire his sculpted frame, your fingers instinctively trailing down his chest and over his toned abs.

The back of your legs bumped against the bed, and you sank onto it, never breaking contact. Your hands roamed down his body, tugging his sweats and underwear down as he helped you slide them off completely. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, an unspoken urgency shared between you both.

Without hesitation, he joined you on the bed, his lips capturing yours again in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. Your body responded instinctively, every nerve alive under his touch. Your hands clung to his biceps, their strength grounding you, as his body aligned perfectly with yours.

When he shifted slightly, the unmistakable hardness of him brushed against your thigh, sending a shiver of anticipation through you. His lips never left yours as he entered you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sensation drew a moan from deep within you — a sound so raw and vulnerable it felt like you had been holding it in forever.

Aurélien froze for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours. “You’re okay?” he murmured, his voice laced with both concern and desire.

“More than okay,” you whispered, tightening your legs around his waist in response.

Your body instinctively clenched around him, and his reaction was immediate, a low grunt that vibrated through his chest. His fingers gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move. His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one drawing out a new wave of pleasure.

“You’re incredible,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your temple. “So perfect.”

Every word, every motion, sent you spiraling higher. Your nails dug into his back, desperate to ground yourself as the intensity built. “Aurélien,” you cried out, your voice shaky. “It’s so good. Please, faster.”

He pulled back slightly, his movements quickening as he adjusted the angle. The change sent a new wave of sensation crashing through you, pulling moans from your lips that left him in awe.

“Tell me what you want, angel,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trailed along your neck. “Anything, you only have to ask.”

You hesitated briefly, the vulnerability of the moment making you shy. But the intensity of his gaze gave you the courage to meet his eyes. “Don’t hold back,” you whispered, your hand resting against the nape of his neck. “I want all of you.”

You shifted, lifting yourself slightly, and Aurélien immediately mirrored your movement, his hands steadying you as you turned to face the headboard. Your back arched instinctively, presenting yourself to him. You heard him suck in a deep breath, the sound full of restraint as if he were forcing himself to keep control.

His hands settled on your hips, his thumbs brushing soothingly across your skin in a motion that reassured and electrified you all at once. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. Then, with deliberate care, he guided himself back into you, every inch of him sending shivers through your body as you adjusted to his size. He paused, giving you the time you needed, his fingers tightening just enough on your hips to anchor you.

“Take your time,” he whispered, his tone as soft as his grip was firm.

Your body responded instinctively, stretching and molding to him, until the tension eased and the pleasure began to bloom. He started to move, slow and steady at first, his rhythm purposeful. Each thrust built on the last, filling the room with the intoxicating symphony of your heavy breathing, whispered moans, and the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. His grip on your hips tightened, not with restraint but with a passion so palpable it made your breath hitch.

“You’re so perfect, baby,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. The way your body responded to him was a constant encouragement, each moan spurring him on. “Such a perfect pussy, made for me.”

The heat of his words sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you couldn’t hold back your response. “I love you,” you moaned, your voice shaky and raw.

His chuckle was dark and teasing, yet full of warmth. “Yeah? How much?” he asked, his voice husky as his hips snapped forward, driving deeper.

“So, so much,” you managed to breathe out, your voice trembling as the coil in your lower belly tightened with each of his perfectly angled thrusts. Your walls fluttered around him, your body responding to him in ways that felt completely out of your control.

Aurélien groaned at the sensation, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. “That’s it, baby. Just like that.”

You felt yourself spiraling, the tension inside you reaching its breaking point. “Gonna cum,” you gasped, your words barely audible as your chest heaved with shallow breaths.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his hand slipping down between your legs. His fingers found your clit, circling it with a pressure that sent you hurtling toward release. The combination of his thrusts and the expert movement of his fingers unraveled you completely. Your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, your body shaking as the most euphoric sensation tore through you.

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice soft but commanding as he lowered himself over you. His lips brushed your ear, and he murmured, “Shhh, that’s it, let it happen. Let me take care of you.”

Your moans dissolved into soft whimpers as the waves of your climax crashed over you. Aurélien slowed his movements, drawing out every ounce of your pleasure as his hands slid soothingly over your back. You felt his rhythm falter, his hips pressing deep one last time as he groaned your name. Heat flooded your core, his release a hot pulse that seemed to blend with your own pleasure, leaving you both utterly spent.

He stayed still for a moment, his breathing uneven as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. Then, with infinite tenderness, he withdrew from you and carefully helped you onto your back. His hands never left you, guiding you gently as though you were made of glass.

“Are you okay, my love?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. “More than okay,” you whispered.

He leaned down, brushing a kiss to your temple, then your nose, and finally your lips. His touch was feather-light. He grabbed one of your hands, bringing it to his lips as he peppered soft kisses along your knuckles and the back of your hand, his eyes twinkling with affection.

The tender gesture made you giggle, the sound light and airy, breaking the charged atmosphere with an intimacy that was uniquely yours. “What’s so funny?” he asked, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Nothing,” you said through another laugh. “Just…you’re too sweet.”

He grinned, leaning down to press one last lingering kiss to your lips. “Only for you,” he murmured, his voice soft and genuine.

He gathered you into his arms, pulling you close against his chest. His warmth surrounded you, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing as your breathing slowed. As the night stretched on, you felt yourself drifting off, the safety and love in his arms lulling you into peaceful slumber.

[ghost-proofbaby]

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💛

this caused a sweet walk down memory lane of the last several years, so thank you very much for that <3 i've decided to exclude long fics, and focus more on one shots posted here, because in all honesty? every long fic i write for a character i hold near and dear to my chest, and each one is a love letter all on their own (i'm looking very hard at you two, the shire is burning and the moon will sing.)

you showed me colors (eddie munson x reader)

yes, very sad, but also i just adore the world building i managed in this fic. absolutely tragic but also the sweet moments really did give me a toothache. i think it did well on encapsulating both the feeling i got as i fell for eddie while watching the show, as well as the devastation when the canon ending to season 4 happened. a slightly different story, an almost parallel universe, and yet it all ended the same. big tragedy. big feelings. but the love is still there <3

2. foolishness and all (eddie munson x reader)

this one is honestly pure silliness, but it also just captures my love for eddie so... nicely? so perfectly? one shots like this one and no denture adventure just always serve to remind me why i love eddie, why i love writing, and just the sheer joy of fandom/being a fan of things to the point of wanting to immortalize them with my words forevermore - even when the words are inside jokes or entirely unserious for the most part.

3. sweet like honey (steve harrington x reader)

the notorious fic in which i've had snippets of sent to me a few times where i go "WHO WROTE THIS? I NEED TO READ IT!!" only to be hit with the fact that i wrote it. was the final nail in the coffin in the way steve owns the nickname "honey" for me, too. we love cocky king steve. long live.

4. simple. (astarion x reader)

this one i love due to the way i got to play around with a new dynamic between astarion and reader/tav <3 his character, including his trauma, is something extremely personal and important to me, so venturing out with this type of writings with him has always been a slippery slope for me. but i genuinely enjoy what i did here <3

5. kissing lessons (robin buckley x reader)

and of course... how can i not include this lovely work in which helped me take something sour from my past, and make it sickly sweet? robin has been a huge fictional crush for me since season 3, and getting to put myself into a reader while giving them a happier ending than reality was just very fulfilling to me <3 makes my heart sing that so many others enjoyed it right along with me <3

this was so fun and nostalgic, thank you so much!! 😭🖤

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances - Part Nine of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in a grocery store brings a second chance for you and for Beau. The only thing standing in your way are your respective pasts... and a tiny little roadblock. Word Count: 5391 Tags/Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff (so much fluff), a touch of angst A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! I couldn't resist--I gotta have me some Beau while writing Dean! This is a brand new story of Beau and female reader! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Nine: Gratitude

The hum of the kitchen was warm and familiar, but Beau’s thoughts drifted to the past. Gratitude had a way of sinking in when you’d had your share of loss, mistakes, and missed opportunities. And Beau had plenty of those.

It wasn’t long ago that his life had felt hollow, even if he’d never admitted it out loud. After his divorce from Carla, he’d moved to Montana to stay close to Emily. His daughter had been his anchor, the one thing that kept him grounded after the shooting of his former partner in Texas—a moment that had fractured his world and, eventually, his marriage. He couldn’t blame Carla for leaving. He’d shut her out, drowning in guilt and refusing to lean on her. By the time he realized what he’d done, it was too late.

Montana had offered a fresh start, but it had also been lonely. Nights in his trailer, surrounded by the endless quiet of Big Sky Country, had given him too much time to think. He’d buried himself in work, playing sheriff with a smile that masked the cracks underneath. For a while, it worked. Until it didn’t.

Then Y/N happened.

He hadn’t been looking for anything—just a quick trip to the grocery store. But the moment he saw her, laughing softly as she tried to wrangle her spirited daughter, something shifted. It wasn’t just her beauty that caught his attention; it was the way she handled Eliza, her patience and humor shining even as the toddler threw cans of Chef Boyardee like grenades.

It had been an ordinary moment, but Beau had felt something extraordinary. A spark he hadn’t felt in years. And when she’d turned those eyes on him, wide with a mix of surprise and intrigue, he’d known he couldn’t just walk away.

The months that followed had been a whirlwind. Their first date—a disastrous combination of a flat tire, scraped knuckles, and terrible food—should’ve been a dealbreaker. Instead, it became a memory he cherished, a reminder that even imperfect moments could lead to something beautiful. He’d watched Y/N’s walls come down slowly, her trust growing with each shared laugh, each tender moment. And Eliza? That little wolf-child had stolen his heart in ways he hadn’t expected.

But life had thrown its punches, too. The domestic call that ended with a gunshot had been a harsh reminder of how fragile everything was. He’d come so close to losing it all—the life he’d only just begun to build with Y/N. Waking up in the hospital to see her face, tear-streaked but steadfast, had been a revelation. He’d fought to stay awake, just to tell her he loved her, the words tumbling out before he could second-guess them.

Then there was the pregnancy.

The memory of that moment still made his chest tighten. Y/N, sitting on the edge of the hospital bed, her hands trembling as she told him. “I’m pregnant, Beau.” The fear in her eyes had mirrored his own—fear of the unknown, of whether they were ready for this. But his heart had leapt at the news, the joy washing away any doubts. He hadn’t thought he’d get another chance at being a father. Yet here it was, wrapped in the woman he loved.

And now, with the smell of dinner still lingering in the air, Beau felt the weight of it all—the heartbreak, the healing, the hope—settle into a quiet, steady joy. His journey hadn’t been easy, but it had brought him here, to this moment, to this life.

Beau leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed loosely as he watched Y/N at the sink. She was humming softly under her breath, a tune he couldn’t place but instantly loved. The warm light of the kitchen cast a golden glow over her, catching in her hair as she rinsed a plate and placed it in the drying rack. Eliza babbled happily from her playpen in the corner, the little wolf-child giggling at something only she understood.

Beau’s chest tightened as he took it all in. This moment, this ordinary scene, was everything he hadn’t dared to hope for. A home filled with laughter and warmth, with Y/N at its center. She didn’t even realize how much she’d given him—a second chance at love, at family, at finding meaning again.

He pushed off the doorway, walking toward her with quiet steps. When he reached her, he slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. Y/N let out a soft laugh, startled but pleased, and leaned into him instinctively.

“Beau,” she murmured, her hands still submerged in soapy water. “What are you doing?”

“Holding you,” he said simply, his voice low and warm. “You got a problem with that, darlin’?”

Her smile widened, though she didn’t turn around. “Not at all. But you’re distracting me.”

“Good,” he murmured, nuzzling into her hair, the scent of her filling his senses. “You deserve a little distraction.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, her shoulders relaxing against him. “You’re in a mood tonight.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. “Just been thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

Her hands stilled in the water, and she tilted her head slightly, her cheek brushing his jaw. “What brought that on?”

He didn’t answer right away, his arms tightening around her as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You. Eliza. This life we’re buildin’,” he said softly. “It’s more than I ever thought I’d have. More than I deserve.”

Y/N turned then, water dripping from her hands as she faced him. Her eyes searched his, her expression tender. “Beau, don’t say that. You deserve every bit of this. Every bit of us.”

He smiled, his green eyes filled with emotion. “You say that like you’re sure.”

“I am,” she said, her voice steady. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Beau. To us.”

The sincerity in her voice broke something open in him, and before he could stop himself, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I love you. More than I’ve got words for.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Beau didn’t waste another moment. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that started soft but quickly deepened. His hands slid from her face to her waist, pulling her closer as he poured everything he felt into that kiss. Gratitude, love, longing—it was all there, tangible and unspoken.

Y/N responded in kind, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt as she leaned into him. The dishes were forgotten, the hum of the kitchen fading as the world narrowed to just the two of them. Her body pressed against his, her warmth igniting something in him that had been simmering since the day they met.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily, their foreheads resting together. Y/N let out a shaky laugh, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. “You’re something else, Beau Arlen.”

He grinned, his thumb brushing her cheek. “And you, darlin’, are my everythin’.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she leaned up, her lips brushing his again, softer this time but no less intense. Beau groaned softly, his hands tightening on her waist as he deepened the kiss, letting the passion build between them.

“Beau,” she whispered against his lips, her voice a mix of laughter and longing. “Eliza’s right there.”

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “She’s busy countin’ her toes, darlin’. I think we’ve got a minute.”

Y/N laughed, swatting at his chest playfully. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, his grin widening. “But ya love me anyway.”

“I do,” she said softly, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “More than I thought I could.”

Beau pressed a kiss to her palm, his green eyes holding hers. “And I’m never lettin’ you forget it.”

The house was quiet, the soft creak of the floorboards under their feet the only sound as Beau and Y/N moved through their bedtime routine. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, softened by the faint hum of the ceiling fan. Eliza had been tucked in hours ago, her little wolf-child snores drifting through the baby monitor on Y/N’s nightstand.

Beau climbed into bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He stretched out on his side, propping himself up on one elbow as Y/N turned off the light and slipped under the covers beside him. Her hair tumbled loose over her shoulders, and her face carried the peacefulness of someone finally at rest after a long day. She nestled into his side, her head finding its place on his chest, where his heartbeat thudded slow and steady.

Beau wrapped an arm around her, his large hand gently trailing up and down her back. “How’s my darlin’ doin’?” he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Y/N smiled against his chest, her fingers idly tracing the lines of his collarbone. “I’m fine, Beau. Tired, but fine.”

He kissed the top of her head, the faint scent of her shampoo filling his senses. “And the little one?” he asked, his hand sliding down to rest lightly on her stomach. “How’d the doctor’s appointment go?”

Y/N shifted slightly so she could look up at him, her eyes soft and warm in the dim light. “Everything’s perfect,” she said, her voice filled with quiet joy. “I’m about 12 weeks now. The baby’s growing right on track. We even heard the heartbeat again.”

Beau’s face lit up, his green eyes shining. “That’s my boy—or girl,” he said with a grin. “Strong little heart in there.”

Y/N laughed softly, covering his hand with hers where it rested on her stomach. “You always light up when I tell you about the baby,” she said, her voice tinged with wonder.

“‘Cause it’s a miracle, darlin’,” he said simply, his thumb brushing against her skin. “You, this baby, Eliza… it’s all more than I ever thought I’d have. You’ve given me a second chance at everythin’.”

Y/N’s expression softened, her free hand moving to trace the faint outline of the scar on his stomach. The wound that had nearly taken him from her. Her fingers were light, reverent, as she followed the line of it. “You scared me so much that day,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” Beau said gently, covering her hand with his. “I’m here, darlin’. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she leaned up to kiss him, her lips soft and lingering. “I love you, Beau Arlen.”

“I love you more,” he murmured against her lips, his voice full of emotion.

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other, the quiet intimacy of the night enveloping them. Beau’s hand slid back to her stomach, cradling the life growing there. “I still can’t believe it sometimes,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. “This baby… it feels like a second chance I didn’t even know I needed.”

Y/N smiled, her fingers brushing through his hair. “It’s a second chance for both of us.”

He kissed her again, deeper this time, his hand moving to cup her cheek as he pulled her closer. The tenderness between them shifted, deepened, as the kiss grew hungrier, more urgent. Y/N melted into him, her hands sliding down his chest, over the faint ridge of his scar, as she pressed herself against him.

“Darlin’,” Beau murmured, his voice low and rough, his green eyes dark with need. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Y/N nodded, her lips brushing against his jaw as she whispered, “Always.”

Beau rolled her onto her back with care, his hands steady and gentle as they explored her curves, lingering over the slight swell of her belly. He kissed her deeply, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every touch, every sigh, every soft moan that escaped her lips.

Their lovemaking was unhurried, filled with the quiet reverence of two people deeply in love and fully aware of the fragility of life. Beau’s hands were steady as he held her, his whispers a mix of sweet words and promises that made Y/N’s heart ache with love.

When they finally stilled, their bodies tangled together under the covers, Beau brushed a kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “I don’t deserve you, darlin’,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m gonna spend the rest of my life tryin’ to be the man you and our kids deserve.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining. “You already are, Beau. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside faded into insignificance. In that moment, in the quiet warmth of their bed, they were a family—a family built on love, second chances, and the promise of all the tomorrows yet to come.

The room was cloaked in the kind of stillness only found in the dead of night. The faint glow of the baby monitor cast a soft light on the nightstand, a quiet reminder of the little life sleeping soundly just a few rooms away. Beau stirred, his green eyes fluttering open as his senses adjusted to the dark. He glanced at Y/N beside him, her soft breathing steady and even. Her hand rested loosely on his chest, her face peaceful in a way that made his heart ache with love.

He carefully eased her hand off him, not wanting to disturb her. As he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his bare feet meeting the cool wood floor, he caught the faint sound of Eliza’s tiny snores coming through the monitor. He smiled to himself, shaking his head. “Wolf-child,” he murmured fondly under his breath.

Unable to resist, he slipped out of the room, his steps quiet and measured as he made his way down the hallway. The soft creak of the floorboards underfoot reminded him that this wasn’t just a house. It was a home—his home now. The thought filled him with a warmth that went beyond words.

He pushed open the door to Eliza’s room just enough to peek inside. The soft glow of her nightlight illuminated her tiny form, curled up with her favorite stuffed rabbit tucked tightly under her arm. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm with her little snores, her curls a wild halo around her head.

Beau leaned against the doorframe, his heart tightening at the sight. It still amazed him how much this little girl had come to mean to him. She wasn’t his by blood, but in every way that mattered, she was his. She’d claimed a piece of his heart the first time she’d called him “Bo-Bo,” and every moment since had only deepened his love for her.

Stepping into the room, he crouched beside her bed, his hand reaching out to gently smooth a curl from her forehead. “You’re somethin’ else, kiddo,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “You’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, and I don’t even mind.”

Eliza shifted slightly, letting out a soft sigh as she snuggled deeper into her blanket. Beau stayed there for another moment, his hand resting lightly on the edge of her bed, before standing and slipping quietly out of the room.

He wandered through the house then, his hand brushing the walls as he moved. The living room, with its cozy couches and the basket of Eliza’s toys in the corner, felt lived-in and warm. The kitchen, where Y/N had laughed over burnt toast just days ago, felt like the heart of the home. Everywhere he looked, there were pieces of them—of the life they were building together.

Beau stopped in front of a framed photo on the wall. It was a candid shot Y/N had taken of him and Eliza at the park, both of them laughing as they played in the grass. He traced the edge of the frame with his finger, his chest tightening with gratitude. This wasn’t just a house he was walking through—it was a life he’d thought he’d lost the chance to have.

The soft creak of a chair drew his attention to the dining room, where Y/N had left her laptop open on the table. A stack of Eliza’s artwork—scribbled rainbows and wobbly stick figures—sat next to it, along with a planner Y/N used to keep track of everything. He smiled, shaking his head. “Organized chaos,” he muttered, the affection in his voice unmistakable.

As he turned to head back to bed, he paused in the doorway of their bedroom. Y/N was still asleep, her hand now resting on the spot where he’d been. The sight made his heart swell, and he realized how much this moment meant. This house, these people—they were his. Not just something he was lucky enough to be a part of, but something he was deeply, irrevocably tied to.

He slipped back into bed, careful not to wake Y/N as he settled beside her. She shifted slightly, her hand instinctively finding its way to his chest again. Beau wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as he let his eyes drift shut.

As sleep took him, one thought echoed through his mind: This is it. This is home.

The morning sunlight spilled through the windows of the doctor’s office as Beau sat on the edge of the examination table, his shirt folded neatly beside him. Dr. Patel, the same no-nonsense woman who had overseen his care since the shooting, studied his chart with a critical eye.

“Well, Sheriff,” she said, setting the clipboard aside and crossing her arms. “Your wound has healed nicely, your strength and mobility are back, and your labs look great. I’m clearing you for full duty.”

Beau let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, a grin spreading across his face. “You sure about that, Doc? No reservations?”

Dr. Patel gave him a wry smile. “Just one—don’t make me regret this, Sheriff. Take care of yourself out there. And try not to get shot again, would you?”

He chuckled, pulling his shirt back on. “I’ll do my best. Thanks, Doc.”

As he left the office, the crisp morning air hit him, and he paused for a moment, letting the reality sink in. He was back—really back. Field duty wasn’t just about being in the thick of things; it was about feeling whole again, about doing what he loved.

The drive to the sheriff’s department was short, but his thoughts were already ahead of him, running through everything he could dive into now that he wasn’t stuck behind a desk. When he walked through the front doors, he immediately felt the energy shift.

As he left the office, the crisp Montana air hit him, invigorating and fresh. The drive to the sheriff’s department felt different today. It wasn’t just a commute—it was a return. He’d spent weeks on desk duty, restless and itching to get back into the field, but now, as he approached the familiar brick building, he felt a swell of emotion he hadn’t anticipated.

He parked his truck and made his way to the front door, his boots crunching against the gravel. The moment he stepped inside, the sound hit him like a wave.

Applause.

Beau froze, his green eyes widening as he looked around. The entire department was there—Jenny Hoyt, Poppernak, Morales, Jenkins, Doris, and even some deputies from the next county over who had stopped by. They were all clapping, smiles lighting up their faces as they greeted him.

“Sheriff Arlen,” Jenny said, stepping forward with a grin. “Welcome back.”

Beau shook his head, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “Y’all really know how to make a guy feel missed,” he drawled, his voice carrying over the clapping.

Doris, standing near the back with her ever-present clipboard, called out, “Don’t get used to it, Beau. This is a one-time deal.”

That earned a round of laughter, and Beau chuckled, tipping an imaginary hat to her. “Noted, Doris. Noted.”

Beau laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “All right, all right. Y’all are actin’ like I’ve been on vacation.”

Poppernak clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You might as well have been. Desk duty’s not your style, Sheriff. We’re glad to have you back for real.”

“Glad to be back,” Beau said sincerely, his gaze sweeping over the room. “I’ve been itchin’ to get back in the mix. And I gotta say, it feels damn good to know I’ve got a team like y’all waitin’ for me.”

Jenny crossed her arms, leaning against her desk with a smirk. “We’re just glad you’re in one piece. You gave us a scare, Beau.”

He nodded, his grin softening. “I know. And I appreciate y’all holdin’ the fort while I was recoverin’. But I’m ready to pull my weight again.”

Jenny stepped closer, offering a hand. “Well, Sheriff, welcome back to full duty. Let’s just hope we can keep you out of trouble.”

Beau shook her hand, his grip firm. “No promises, Hoyt.”

The room erupted in laughter, the sound carrying through the department as Beau took in the faces around him. For the first time in weeks, he felt like himself again—not just their sheriff, but part of a team, a family.

As the applause died down and the crowd began to disperse, Beau felt a hand on his arm. He turned to see Jenny, her expression softer now.

“You really scared us,” she said quietly. “It’s good to see you standing here.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” he said, his voice low. “It’s good to be standin’ here.”

Jenny gave him a small smile and nodded before stepping away, leaving Beau to take in the moment. He looked around the department—the desks, the bulletin board cluttered with flyers, the coffee pot in the corner—and felt a deep sense of belonging. This wasn’t just a job; it was a part of who he was. And now, after everything, it felt even more meaningful.

With a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and walked toward his office, ready to take on whatever the day—and the future—had in store.

The sun was dipping low in the Montana sky as Beau parked his truck in the driveway, the warm hues of twilight casting the house in a soft glow. He turned off the engine and sat for a moment, letting the day’s events sink in. The sheriff’s department had welcomed him back with open arms, the applause and camaraderie cementing his place among the people he respected most. But now, as he looked at the house before him, the glow from the kitchen window spilling out onto the porch, he realized this was the place he truly belonged.

Beau stepped inside, greeted immediately by the faint scent of something savory lingering in the air. The quiet hum of home life enveloped him—the distant sound of the TV in the living room, Eliza’s gentle snores through the baby monitor, and the soft sound of Y/N moving in the kitchen.

He closed the door and slipped off his boots, letting the comfort of being home wash over him. As he stepped into the kitchen, Y/N looked up, a warm smile spreading across her face.

“Hey there, cowboy,” she greeted, her voice soft but teasing. “You’re home late.”

Beau crossed the room, pulling her into his arms. The tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding melted away as he buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of her shampoo. “Missed you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of warmth.

Y/N chuckled softly, resting her hands on his chest. “You were only gone for the day.”

“Still missed you,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. His green eyes were bright, his smile wide. “Got some good news, darlin’. Doctor cleared me for full duty.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, just for a second, before she masked it with a nod. “That’s… that’s great, Beau. Really.”

He tilted his head, studying her. “But?”

She sighed, her hands sliding down to his. “I’m happy for you, I am. I know how much you’ve been waiting for this. But… I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried.”

“Worried?” he asked gently, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. “What if something happens again? What if you…?” Her voice caught, and she shook her head. “I don’t know if I could go through that again, Beau.”

He cupped her face in his hands, tilting her head so their eyes met. “Darlin’, I hear you. I do. And I’d be a fool to say there aren’t risks. But I’ll be careful. I’ve got too much to live for now—too much to come home to.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks as his voice softened. “You. Eliza. The baby. I’m not takin’ any chances with what we’ve got, I promise you that.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, leaning into his touch. “I just need you to come home, Beau. Every time.”

“I will,” he vowed, his voice steady. “Every time, darlin’. You’ve got my word.”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him close. “You’d better keep that promise.”

He held her tightly, his hand smoothing over her back. “You can count on it.”

They stood like that for a moment, the weight of their love and shared fears settling into a quiet understanding. Finally, Y/N pulled back, her hand sliding up to cup his cheek. “You’re a good man, Beau Arlen.”

“And you’re my good woman,” he replied with a soft smile, leaning in to kiss her.

The kiss started soft, a gentle meeting of lips that spoke of love and reassurance. But as their bodies pressed closer, the tenderness gave way to something deeper, something more urgent. Beau’s hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him as the kiss deepened, his lips trailing down her jaw and to her neck.

“Beau,” Y/N murmured, her voice breathless as her hands found their way to the buttons of his shirt. “The dishes…”

“Can wait,” he murmured against her skin, his hands moving to her hips. “Right now, it’s just you and me, darlin’.”

Beau’s lips lingered on Y/N’s as he pulled her closer, his hands settling on her hips as if anchoring himself to her. The warmth of her body against his, the way her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt—it sent a slow burn through him that started in his chest and spread outward. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving over hers with a mix of tenderness and longing, as though he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say with words.

Y/N’s breath hitched as his hands slid up her sides, his touch firm but reverent. “Beau,” she murmured, her voice soft and filled with affection. Her fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We’re still in the kitchen.”

“So?” he drawled, his green eyes darkening with a playful spark as he kissed along her jaw, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below her ear. “Pretty sure the kitchen’s seen worse.”

She let out a soft laugh, her cheeks flushing as her hands worked their way down his shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. “It’s not exactly private, you know.”

Beau paused, leaning back just enough to meet her gaze. His hand moved to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Then let’s go somewhere private, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I want to take my time with you.”

Her breath caught at the intensity in his gaze, and she nodded, her fingers curling around his hand as he led her out of the kitchen. The walk to their bedroom was unhurried, filled with small touches and glances that spoke volumes. The house was quiet, save for the soft creak of the floorboards beneath their feet and the faint hum of the baby monitor in the background.

When they reached the bedroom, Beau turned to her, his hands settling on her waist as he guided her gently toward the bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting warm shadows that made the space feel even cozier. Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of love and anticipation.

Beau’s hands slid to her face, cradling it as he leaned down to kiss her again, this time slower, deeper. His lips moved over hers with deliberate care, savoring every moment. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her mouth, his voice thick with emotion. “You know that?”

Y/N smiled, her hands sliding up to rest on his chest. “You might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Not nearly enough,” he said softly, his hands trailing down to the hem of her shirt. He paused, meeting her gaze as though silently asking for permission. When she nodded, he pulled the fabric over her head, his fingers brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

He took a moment to look at her, his eyes tracing every curve, every line, with a reverence that made her cheeks flush. “You take my breath away, Y/N,” he said quietly, his hands resting on her waist. “Every time.”

She reached up, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him down into another kiss. This time, it was her turn to take the lead, her hands working to remove his shirt, her touch lingering over the faint scars on his chest and stomach. Her fingers brushed against the scar from his gunshot wound, and she paused, her lips trailing down to press a soft kiss to the healing skin.

Beau let out a shaky breath, his hand coming up to thread through her hair. “Darlin’…”

“You scared me,” she admitted softly, her lips moving against his skin. “But you’re here. You’re okay. And I’m so grateful for that.”

He tilted her chin up, his green eyes meeting hers. “I’m here,” he said firmly. “And I’m not goin’ anywhere. You’ve got me, Y/N. All of me.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she pulled him closer, their bodies pressing together as the weight of their emotions spilled over into their movements. Beau guided her to the bed, his hands gentle but sure as he laid her down. He followed, his body covering hers as he kissed her deeply, his hands exploring her curves with a mix of tenderness and passion.

The world outside faded into insignificance as they moved together, their love and connection driving every touch, every kiss. Beau’s hands lingered over the slight swell of her belly, a reverence in his touch that made Y/N’s heart ache with love. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Do you know that?”

“You make me feel that way,” she replied, her hands sliding up to cup his face. “Every day.”

Their lovemaking was slow, unhurried, a celebration of everything they had built together and everything that was still to come. Beau worshipped her with every touch, every whispered word, and Y/N gave herself to him completely, her love for him shining in every kiss, every sigh.

When they finally stilled, their bodies tangled together under the soft covers, Beau pressed a kiss to her temple, his hand resting protectively over her stomach. “You’re my whole world, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice a quiet promise. “You and this family we’re buildin’. You’re all I need.”

“And you’re everything to us,” she replied softly, her head resting on his chest. “Always.”

As the night settled around them, they held each other close, the love they shared a quiet but powerful force that made everything else fade away.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Come check out my master Tag List and sign up! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[puppyfriedrice]

You'd think it'd get routine. In some ways it does. In others… well the difference lies in the feeling. People say you get bored and need to go to the brink to chase the first thrill. That's not true. At least, not in the same sense. Sometimes a feeling never leaves, sometimes it changes.

People wax poetic about the first time doing anything. Their first kiss, their first drink, their first car, their first heartbreak, first time throwing a novel against a wall in rage, first bully, first roller coaster, first ticket, first time. There is something to be said of a first, and that's because whatever emotion one might be feeling becomes entwined in the secondary emotion. The one that amplifies whatever it comes into contact with. It's never really discussed but everyone knows it's there, on the brink of excitement. Fear.

Fear of the unknown.

Overlooked- fear can be replaced easily by hatred. Or love. Sometimes it's not even replaced, not really, sometimes the fear never leaves. Fear and love make the most common bedmates, for to truly love one must place trust in someone other than oneself. And that, that's true fear.

A thrill is endorphins released at the exact moment to counteract the sheer terror a brain is experiencing.

At least, it was for Ben.

He'd always been an adrenaline junkie. A rush that his brain woefully didn't provide most days. Feel good chemicals. A brain that just was not good at making him feel happy.

It was common. Humans aren't perfect, they never were. That fact didn't stop the anger that he couldn't just wake up and feel alive without a little help. He hated relying on help. He felt as though he was a failure because the juices just didn't flow right to create a smile. The pills helped a little, the rest was sheer determination. He knew it was always going to be a battle.

But it was a battle that he was willing to fight. It wasn't just because there was someone he wanted to see smile back at him, but because there were so many beautiful things worth battling for. Long car rides, loud music, the stars littering the country sky, good books, great movies, friends, love, human connection, food.

A change is gradual sometimes. It's soft and creeps up when it's least expected. It won't happen overnight. Sometimes it's unnoticed until you wake up and don't dread getting out of bed. Things get a little easier. You wash the dishes without putting them off another day. You see your friends and you don't think about how they'd react if you were gone. You don't break down into tears in your kitchen at three am because you can't sleep and you can't remember not feeling tired. What you're pushing against has give, and you gain inches in ground against it. You have some strength again. You have the energy to make yourself stronger against that darkness.

The darkness doesn't truly go away, but even a candle has enough light to see by.

Sometimes the change is quick. It's a breath when you realize you've been holding it. It's a jolt of laughter when you can't remember a tickle. It's the feeling that swells when you see a smile. And is not just happiness that returns. The fog blows away and you're no longer empty. Anger, sadness, jealousy, joy all punch you in the gut and you can feel human again.

And sometimes you never stop chasing a thrill.

Emotions are complex. He knew that. Feelings couldn't always be described. Humans never could quite grasp the words needed to relay the multitude of firing neurons in a moment. Not that they didn't try. Poetry and prose as soon as man was capable of speech. Even before we learned to write.

So Ben tried to explain himself to himself. Some people just want to understand. He just wanted that thrill. But lurking at the edges was always the question.

Why?

Maybe it was the lack of control. Maybe it was the fear of judgement. Maybe it was the thought of getting caught. Maybe it was his way of sticking it to the man. Maybe it was because he liked to eat. Maybe it was to feel grounded. Maybe it was the physical pain. Maybe he thought he deserved it. Maybe it was all of it.

As his mind became clearer, he had a gradual change, followed by a sucker punch of a quick one.

Possibly, there was never going to be a time when he didn't think he deserved to be punished. That's just the way his brain was wired.

He admitted to himself he craved it. He had accepted it a while ago. It wasn't too strange to enjoy giving up control.

The gradual change came like a soft kiss. A little unexpected but welcome. He knew he loved Ezra. He learned to be okay with himself and not crush feelings. Or thoughts late at night.

The quick change, that was another story, and just like the unexpected, it came with the thrill that Ben could not resist.

The idea of eating to the point just before the edge of capacity usually is not a pleasant thought. To Ben it was everything he stopped himself from doing.

He didn't let go of his control. He kept his body a sacrament to popular demand. Everything was about others. Never about him. And sometimes he wanted a fucking extra slice of cake.

He felt carved up and served to the people and he finally allowed himself to hate it.

And a damn broke and he changed. And he didn't give a single shit for once.

Not even the idea that Ezra might not like him for it.

It wasn't about her, though she frequented his fantasies. Sometimes as judgement, sometimes as sweet words encouraging another bite, and sometimes (though he didn't mean for it to come to mind) she was the one holding the fork.

[imtrashraccoon]

Hehehe (｀･∀･´)

Can we get a "don't imagine" for ut!papyrus, with lolita reader ＼(^_^)／ (is this allowed? I slept for 4 hours so i don't totally get the pinned post 😞)

Yes you can! You're all good! I hope you managed to get some more sleep though. (⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)⁠つ⁠⊂⁠(⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠)

Don't imagine getting ready for the day and heading out to do some shopping. How you made sure to bring your parasol to help ward off the sun. How you took your time walking so you wouldn't overexert yourself.

Don't imagine how the air feels thick and how you struggle to breath properly. How you know you'll have to get your clothes dry-cleaned after this from how badly you're sweating. How your skin almost feels clammy. How you start to feel light-headed and slightly nauseous. How you nearly collapse onto a nearby bench to try to recover.

Don't imagine a tall skeleton in clothing so bright, you feel nearly blinded. How he seems a little nervous but puts on a big smile. How he compliments your outfit. How he marvels at how intricately detailed it is and how he asks if you made it yourself.

Don't imagine how his smile falls and how his eye sockets widen when he realizes that something's wrong. How quickly he puts together that you might be experiencing heat exhaustion. How his bonebrows furrow with concern and he glances around for help.

Don't imagine how his eyelights seem to flicker with newfound determination. How he asks if he can help and how relieved he looks when you nod. How he helps you inside a nearby store to get you out of the sun. How he buys you a bottle of water and stays by your side until you seem to recover a little.

Don't imagine how he tentatively asks if you wouldn't mind if he tries using some healing magic. How surprised he is when you agree. How he sits down next you and slips off his gloves. How he seems almost scared to touch you at first.

Don't imagine how his cheekbones seem to light up with an orange glow when you take his hand. How he chuckles awkwardly but seems secretly glad that you did so. Definitely don't imagine how he places his free hand against your forehead and how cool his bones feel. How they warm up slightly and how you start to feel a tingling sensation.

Don't imagine how much better you feel when he finally pulls back. How you still feel tired but how you feel much lighter than before. How he sheepishly looks away and murmurs something about being self-taught. How he blushes again when you thank him for his help.

Don't imagine him asking if you'll let him help you get home. How you get the sense that he's still very concerned about you. How he even offers to carry your shopping bags.

Don't imagine being blown away by his unabashed kindness. How everyone else ignored you except for him. How he seems to light up when you accept his help once more. How he can't seem to run out of questions to ask on the way back to your home. How you actually find yourself amused by this sweet skeleton.

First, Previous, & Next Request

[kamaluhkhan]

read below the cut if you wanna know more about each option ;))

HER CANINE TEETH IN THE SIDE OF MY NECK (werewolf!vi x vampire slayer!reader)

slightly canon-divergent....basically set during pit fighter!vi arc except in this world we've got vampires! and werewolves!!!! (can you tell i've been rewatching buffy the vampire slayer and first kill???)

so reader is also a pit fighter -- they literally meet for the first time when they're competing underground. the next morning vi wakes up with a wicked hangover in some stranger's apartment and that stranger is you! and your dog! vi doesn't realize this yet but you saved her drunk ass from a vampire anyways, you invite vi to train with you and some other girls, which she denies at first but vi's eventually like,, tired of the whole lone wolf thing but still very scared to let people in after what happened with caitlyn,, so she joins somewhat reluctantly and you become friends ("whoever wins the most fights that night picks up the tab for the bar.") and vi maybe has a crush on you but she tries very hard to keep her identity a secret.....while you're also trying to keep the whole vampire slayer thing under wraps....perhaps unsuccessfully, but i don't want to spoil it hehe. i will however share this moodboard thing that i spent a bunch of time at work making

IS IT CASUAL NOW? (college fwb!vi x reader)

SO this is probably my most self-indulgent fic oops - it's kinda inspired by leighton's arc in sex lives of college girls season 1! basically, vi's on the varsity soccer team and after a series of unfortunate events (anger issues, bad breakup) is put on academic probation and has to volunteer at the women's centre or else she'd get kicked off of the team. she goes for her first shift and she's like...that president looks awfully familiar?? and reader's like, yeah, i work at that bar you keep starting fights in....so off to a great start. reader and vi don't really get along at first bc obviously vi doesn't wanna be there and reader is just not having it so there's TENSION. but then vi's like ,, oh this actually isn't so bad??? these ppl are kinda cool??? and maybe wait is reader kinda hot??? and reader's like....maybe this angry butch lesbian has a soft heart (vi is the definition of looks like she could kill you and she COULD but is also a huge cinnamon roll). eventually turns into a friends with benefits situation. (yeah, we bang on the couch.....yeah, she's knee deep in the passenger seat eating me out vibes). but then there are like moments where it's like....are we dating? like, reader will run into vi at the library where she's checking out feminist literature and reader's like...since when are you into this stuff? turns out vi is taking a gender studies elective so she can impress reader; vi starts showering at reader's place after practice bc she just really loves smelling like reader's shampoo, and reader keeps her fridge stocked with those energy drinks vi is obsessed with; reader wears vi's jersey to one of her games, meets her family, and they insist that reader join them for dinner to celebrate (i fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner!!! your parents at the table, you wonder why i'm bitter!!!); one night vi is worried when reader doesn't show up for her shift at work so checks in on reader and turns out she's having really bad period cramps and is like super stressed so vi stays in bed with her watching movies until she falls asleep and then cleans up her apartment (vi is such an acts of service person!!!); they both hate doing laundry so they do it together on a sunday morning after spending all of saturday night fucking. something about being happy doing laundry and taxes with someone (iykyk). spoiler alert, it'll end with the centre in dire need of funding so reader's scrambling to save it and one day reader sees vi talking to her ex and gets super jealous but then vi's like ,, babe ,, i was trying to convince caitlyn to get her family to donate and it WORKED !!! so ,, yeah ,, reader is convinced vi's the woman she'll one day make her wife (and she's more than happy to get down on her knees for her oop). the centre is saved and reader and vi confess their feelings for each other and live happily ever after <3

GLORY AND GORE (the hunger games au)

basically sapphic katniss x peeta. vi and reader are picked for the 74th annual hunger games ,, they do the whole fake relationship for the camera thing that eventually turns into them needing each other to survive in the arena...and then after they're like oh shit not only can i not survive without you, i don't wanna survive without you.

LIKE SOME MISPLACED JOAN OF ARC (spiderverse au)

vi is spider-gwen spider-woman! she's in college, plays drums in a band, has an internship at some lab and spends a lot of her time saving the city but there's the lingering guilt that she couldn't save you (canon event: losing their first love). one day she's fighting some villian and....a portal opens? and she's transported into another universe?? the only place she knows of for sure is her apartment and when she knocks on the door, her heart almost stops -- because you're the one who opens it. turns out in this universe, you're spider-woman, dealing with some demons of your own (two canon events rolled into one: losing their first love and not being able to save the life of a police captain....and your vi was an enforcer). basically you have to work together to get vi back home and maybe fall for each other along the way even though you both really really don't wanna go through losing the other and it seems like it's inevitable. but, fuck the universe, right?

[sesamestreep]

“requiem for methuselah” crazy ass episode for many reasons. Kirk is being fully insane, like I don’t actually think, even controlling for how quickly and easily and readily he seems to fall in love with anybody at the slightest encouragement, that he’d go that bonkers for that android woman he just met while everyone on the ship was this close to dying, but that’s neither here nor there, because in the background you’ve got an equally but much more subtly insane episode for Spock, who extremely uncharacteristically admits to experiencing an emotion (or nearly experiencing, whatever) and that emotion is ENVY of all things. And then spends the rest of the episode warning Kirk away from this new love interest (something that doesn’t usually happen, even when Kirk has very inadvisable love interests) and is, in the end, the person who accurately identifies that Rayna’s competing love for Kirk and Flint is ultimately what overwhelms and destroys her with the most killer line in maybe history???

And then to wrap it up we get an equally uncharacteristic sort of denouement scene (TOS loooves to cut an episode off right after the actual climax, leaving little time for falling action or character reflection, or to stick a sitcom-y button on the end where the gang all smiles and laughs at their misadventures and everything resets to zero, which is not a criticism, it’s just the style of that era of tv, honestly) where Kirk is literally miserable over Rayna’s death (again, kind of unusual for a lot of his love interests, he tends to be able to move on pretty quickly) and Spock goes to see him and he falls asleep right in front of Spock (also odd) and then when Bones comes in to give the final word on Flint, Spock waves him off from waking the Captain (tender) and Bones gives him that awful speech about how it’s sadder that Spock can’t even imagine the love Kirk felt for this random android woman than it is that Kirk lost her in the first place (debatable but also rude) and how his great tragedy is that he can’t love at all like they can and how all he wishes is that Kirk could forget about all of this and move on. AND THEN, to have Bones leave and Spock go over to Kirk and very gently, tenderly, reluctantly touch him and put his hand to his forehead and tell him to forget and HAVE THAT BE THE END OF THE EPISODE??? What am I supposed to do with that??