#me waking up from like three hours of sleeping being all

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT III

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: sorry for such a long break!! pls let me know what u think and again if you’d like to be added to the tag list send me a message or ask as I rarely check my notifs and go back to them. also sorry abt the cliffhanger uhmmmm also unedited ok bye

“You look like crap.”

Your eyes flutter open to see Mor scrunching up her face as she peers at you from her seat across your own at the dining table. It takes a second for her words to register and you throw a belated scowl her way.

“Good morning to you too,” you mumble, sitting up to continue swirling your spoon around your bowl of barely eaten oatmeal. Your appetite seems to have vanished over the past week, but you try and force a spoonful down your throat, nearly gagging.

Mor narrows her eyes at you and her lips press into a thin line of concern. “No, you seriously look like crap. You’re not eating lately and you were literally asleep at the table when I got here.”

“I wasn’t asleep,” you say, defensively. “I was resting my eyes.”

“You sound like Cassian after a three hour afternoon nap.”

“I’m just having a little trouble sleeping.” You set your spoon down and push the offending bowl away from you before slumping in your seat. You brush off her skeptical look with a wave of your hand. “I’m always like this after absorbing Fae magic.”

And over the last few days you’ve been absorbing a lot. All in an attempt to find out as much as you could about the Fae rebel group that had been attacking the borders of multiple Courts, in order to weaken them and make a point against you.

Well, you and your sisters. Not all of Prythian was accepting of Feyre for how she was Made, and even less so of you and Nesta and Elain. Instead, they viewed you as unnatural mutations and the whispers had only become worse after the War. It seemed that the lack of conflict looming over Prythian was unacceptable in their eyes.

With the help of your powers and Azriel’s shadows, you were closer than ever to finding them. Truthfully, the idea that there were Fae out there who hated you didn’t bother you so much in the sense of feeling like outcasts, but you couldn’t lie. They were starting to be a giant pain in your ass.

“You’re never like this,” Mor scoffs, gesturing to the bags under your eyes and the hollowness of your cheeks. As her voice raises, the pounding of your head gets more intense and you attempt to hold back a grimace. “Why is it affecting you so much this time?”

“It’s the type of magic I’m absorbing,” you practically whine, abandoning all pretences of being okay and allowing your shoulders to drop. “It’s so angry and harsh and impure, Mor! It’s literally making me sick because I have nowhere else to redirect it.”

At that moment Rhysand and Feyre walk in to join you at the table.

Rhysand, having overheard you, chimes in as he reaches for a plate of fruit. “Good news, our little Siphon,” he nudges you lightly, the nickname making you scrunch your nose up in mock annoyance. “We have enough information now to move forward using Az and Cass and resources from other Courts. The only thing we need you to do now is rest.”

Rhysand’s upbeat tone brings a weak smile to your face. You know that he’s being flippant to make you feel better, like he always does when you’re stressed or unwell and you’re nothing but appreciative as he whistles under his breath, nonchalantly piling some fruit onto a plate for you.

“You should have been resting days ago,” Feyre eyes you from beside Rhys with furrowed brows, taking in your tired form. “We told you yesterday would be too much.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Give me a couple hours and I’ll be fine for the meeting in Summer.”

Mor snorts and looks up at you, amused. When you raise an eyebrow, her smile drops into an incredulous expression. “You’re not serious.”

“I need to be there to discuss what I siphoned from that knife we found at the border of Dawn,” you say, holding up a hand and rushing out the rest of your words when Feyre opens her mouth to speak. “And Rhys promised me I would be there since it’ll be all the High Lords, Court informants and even soldiers. I couldn’t possibly not go.”

Feyre sighs, sensing that you’re not going to back down. She nods slowly, pointing at your plate. “Finish all of your breakfast and your lunch later on and then you can go.”

You let out a breath, feeling nauseous when Rhys slides your plate closer to you and simply shrugs when you glare at him. Traitor, you speak to him in your mind. He suddenly becomes very interested in a strawberry.

“Watch me,” you say confidently, waving your fork at Feyre who rolls her eyes at you and goes back to her own breakfast.

Summer court is your least favourite court at the best of times, though you’d never admit that to sweet and kind Tarquin, who’s arguably one of your favourite High Lords.

The beautiful, shimmering lagoons aren’t of interest to you as large bodies of water have always unsettled you. The warm breeze that everyone welcomes always reminds you of the times you had to suffer through sweltering heat when foraging for food with Feyre in your adolescence. You’ve always preferred a colder climate and appreciated a more muted daylight.

Considering your current health, the ripples in the water make you dizzy and the light salty breeze nearly brings your breakfast and lunch up.

You’re thankful for the sheer, thin material of the sage coloured dress that Nuala and Cerridwen chose for you because you suddenly feel a sheen of sweat covering your body.

“Are we done sightseeing?” you ask weakly, desperate to be inside already.

Elain turns to you and winces. “You don’t look too good….”

“Aw, thank you, Elain.”

“That’s not what I mean,” she tuts, coming over to fan your face with her hands. You swat them away, sputtering and try to catch Rhysand’s attention to move things along. He reluctantly agrees and gestures everyone to move along, too used to your aversion to Summer.

As you all enter the palace made of gleaming marble, you hang further back to avoid the watchful eyes of Feyre who seems to be waiting to send you right back home to rest.

The palace is beautiful and you push down your nausea to look around and take in the tall arched windows. The jewelled embellishments adorning the frames trail higher and higher and you crane your neck to see them.

This turns out to be a mistake when your vision starts to blur and another wave of nausea causes your steps to falter, the world tilting sharply.

A firm hand grips your elbow in an all too familiar fashion, steadying you before you’re sent flying to the ground. Another hand settles around your waist where the cutout of your dress exposes your now damp skin, glittering with sweat.

You look up and find Eris’ amber eyes locked onto your own.

“Foolish,” he mutters, his voice sharp with irritation, yet his hands remain steady in their position, holding you up. It’s the first word he’s uttered to you since your encounter a couple of weeks ago in the Spring Court where he’d left on frosty terms. You had seen him twice since then, but it was in the middle of meetings and siphoning sessions and he had barely spared you a single glance.

Your lips part but your senses are too overwhelmed to think of a response before he carries on, lightly shaking his head at you. “You overexert yourself all week and then travel here? What are you trying to prove?”

“I’m fine,” you manage to say, pulling away from him, but his grip only tightens. You can’t help glancing around and noticing that the growing crowd of all the Court officials has separated you from the Inner Circle. You huff out a breath as you register his words. You knew Rhysand had to communicate with the other High Lords with updates, but you didn’t know that included your physical state. “Gods, High Lords are such gossips…”

“You’re not fine,” he says, scowling like you’ve dreadfully inconvenienced him by nearly collapsing. His gaze flickers over the pallor of your skin and the way you’ve started to shiver slightly. “You drained yourself dry this week. And for what? To impress Rhysand? To prove something to him?”

“Let go of me, Eris,” you attempt to snap at him, but even you can hear the lack of strength in your voice. His eyes soften slightly when you say his name without your usual bite. “I can’t have this same conversation with you when I’m like this.”

“You think I want to be the one always catching you from falling on your face? Trust me when I say I have things I would rather be doing,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes.

You grit your teeth at the reminder and heat flares in your cheeks, whether it’s from embarrassment, anger or the climate of Summer, you don’t know.

Before you can retort, Eris sighs and straightens you up, still not fully letting you go. Releasing the hand around your waist, he loops your arm in his own and makes you lean on him for support. To your utter surprise, he doesn’t say anything as he starts walking towards the meeting room where everyone else files in. Despite your frustration, you’re grateful for his strength.

The moment of blissful silence doesn’t last too long, however. As he begins to lead you to where your family is stood and clearly looking around frantically for you, Eris leans in to whisper in your ear. “You need to sit down at the table,” he orders quietly, High Lord behaviour on full display.

You’re about to argue that no one else is going to be sat and he immediately catches this, cutting you off. “Don’t be stubborn for once in your life,” he murmurs, breath warm against your ear, making you shiver more than you already were. “Please?”

You quickly turn your head to meet his, shocked at the pleading in his voice. You didn’t realise how close this would bring your own face to his and words leave you. Thankfully, you’ve reached your family as you hear Cassian’s loud voice and it snaps you out of your little bubble.

“Finally!” he exclaims, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “We were about to send a search and rescue team, thinking you’d finally collapsed.”

“Why didn’t you?” Eris asks, coldly.

Cassian merely rolls his eyes at Eris’ attitude and gestures at Azriel.

Feyre comes forward to take your other arm in hers and explains. “Azriel’s shadows informed us that you were with her, Eris.” She smiles warmly and sincerely at him and Rhysand nods at him in recognition of his actions. “Thank you for looking after my sister.”

Eris shakes his head. “Don’t thank me yet. I foresee many falls in her near future that I’m sure I won’t be present for.”

Feyre’s mouth twitches, but she quickly smoothes her face into an expressionless one when you frown at her and she busies herself with disentangling you from Eris.

He takes a step back, dark and fiery hair catching the sunlight through the tall windows and glances at you once more, not breaking eye contact, yet his words are directed towards Feyre. “Just make sure she sits down. The Night Court doesn’t need a martyr,” he says drily, before walking away.

Your mouth goes dry at the double meaning in his words, but you can’t shake off the shock at seeing genuine concern in his eyes. You must have looked practically near death, but you appreciated it all the same and you don’t even realise your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away until Feyre sits you down next to Nesta.

Your older sister raises an eyebrow at you, always so intuitive and you swat weakly at her to look away from you. Cassian’s eyes flit back and forth between you two, confused.

Before he can say anything, the meeting commences and you feel a shift in the energy of the room, full to the brim of Court officials, emissaries, a few warriors and of course, the High Lords around the table.

Your turn to speak comes fairly quickly since the most information regarding the Rebels is from you and Azriel. As per Rhysand’s instructions, you don’t go into any details regarding your siphoning powers, instead just sharing the information you gained due to them. You try to ignore the way people are staring at your weak form, but you continue to speak with all the strength you can muster. Evidently, you’re doing a convincing job as people start to nod, satisfied and scribble things down.

When Azriel’s turn arrives, you zone out a little, already having heard everything a few times over. Your ears only perk up when everyone is discussing plans of action against the Rebels and a question is asked in your general direction.

“Who are we thinking is to be at the front lines of this hypothetical mission?” The question comes from one of the Spring Court advisors, Vaelith, an older Fae with silver hair gathered in one long braid down his back.

His gaze lingers on you for only a split second before moving onto Rhysand and you feel compelled to answer. “Myself and Azriel,” you blurt out, before you can think twice. “And others of course, but the two of us are the most familiar with-”

“We’re all aware of the Shadowsinger’s abilities,” Vaelith interrupts you, holding up a hand to stop you from talking. You hold back a scowl. “What makes you suitable to lead such a mission aside from your… familiarity with a selection of items left behind by these Rebels?”

“I’m more than able to-” you cut yourself off and swallow, gaining yourself a second to think of a way to defend yourself without giving away your powers, as per your High Lord’s request.

Careful, Y/N

Rhysand’s voice sounds clear as day in your head and you try not to wince at the volume considering the silence of the rest of the room. The other High Lords knew of your powers, but Rhysand had requested they keep it to themselves, even from their own Court officials. Whether or not Rhysand had used his Daemati abilities to ensure this, you didn’t want to know.

“I’m more than able to assist in a plan of action,” you continue firmly, voice hardening. “I’m not sure if you remember a certain War we just had, but you may wish to remind yourself who was at the front lines of that.”

A few laughs break the tense silence and some people start muttering, slowly raising the volume of the room. You almost don’t hear Vaelith’s next words. “You haven’t really answered my question.”

“Let’s use our senses, Vaelith,” a voice rings out from further down the table and you’re startled to realise that Eris is speaking up. The room finally quietens down and you sit up impossibly straight, surprised that Eris is about to defend you.

You couldn’t be more wrong.

He only spares you a fleeting glance, but even from your seat you could see it’s full of amusement and mocking. The thing that surprises you is that the mocking is directed at you. “Look at her. Are you really questioning the abilities of a female who barely has the strength to sit up in her seat, let alone fight?”

Your stomach drops, a ball of humiliation unfurling in your chest as he continues to speak.

“I’d like to believe Rhysand has more sense than to send someone on the frontlines who would just be doing the rebels a favour,” Eris drawls, raising an eyebrow at Rhys, still avoiding your gaze.

Rhysand nods. “I can assure you I’ll only be sending my strongest soldiers, Vaelith,” he smirks, faintly, as though the implication he’d do anything to suggest otherwise is laughable. “Now may we discuss matters of actual importance? Tarquin, what have your soldiers been preparing?”

The tension dissolves almost immediately, but you’re still shellshocked, shaking with anger rather than weakness now. It’s as though you’ve been pumped with a burst of adrenaline and it doesn’t seem to be dampening.

After the conversation has shifted to a completely different subject, you shift from your seat as discretly as possible and mutter to Nesta that you need some air before standing up.

You look at the High Lord of Autumn before you walk away, but it only infuriates you more. Eris doesn’t look anywhere near you, but his jaw is clenched all the same, as though he can feel you glaring at him.

Mor catches your arm as you’re walking out and hisses in your ear. “You’re still not well,” she turns her body fully towards you. “Wait for me to come with you.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, shaking your head and clenching your fists to keep them from trembling as you speak through gritted teeth. “I feel suddenly energised. I’ll only be outside.”

Mor gives you a once over and is clearly satisfied with the fact that you’re unlikely to collapse again as she nods and releases your arm, allowing you to rush through the crowd of people and push through the guards.

You walk briskly away from the doors of the meeting room and further down the empty hallway until you’re satisfied that no one will hear your heavy breathing.

You lean against a pillar, exhaling in and out to control your anger and keep the tears at bay. Gods, you feel so stupid. Of course, Eris is incapable of being a decent male to anyone, let alone to you. Damn him and his cruel smirk and damn Rhysand too for allowing it to happen.

Brushing away the tears that have managed to fall, you curse yourself for not just pushing him away and allowing yourself to collapse on the hard marble flooring. It was giving you whiplash the way he could be so full of concern one second and practically call you useless in front of a room full of officials the next.

The longer you stand against the marble pillar, the weaker you begin to feel and that burst of adrenaline you previously felt is no longer present. The anger that fuelled you mere seconds ago is now winding you and a rising sense of panic begins to consume you.

You decide to turn around to walk back so you’re closer to the doors of the meeting room in case you embarrassingly do collapse.

However, the second you take a step, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye is all the warning you get before strong arms clamp around you from behind and a cloth is pressed against your mouth and nose, preventing you from breathing. You can’t even scream as the scent of something strong and chemical floods your senses, making your vision blur.

You thrash around in an attempt to use the little strength you have left to escape, but the arms only grip you harder and the world begins to spin. The last thing you feel is the cool marble floor as your knees give out and no one bothers to catch you as you hit the ground, darkness swallowing you whole.

tag list: @fabulouslyflamboyant @deepestmentalityperson @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @abysshaven @nayaniasworld @rcarbo1 @paleidiot @tenshis-cake @bunnyredgirl @goldenmagnolias @whydohumansss @fandomtrash465 @mrsbarnes32557038 @aaprilshowers @scarsandallaz @-im-fantastic- @cat-or-kitten @annamariereads16 @adelina-127 @onlymexsarah @puddlesplasher17 @eyes-capone @hermaeuswhora

[babydray777]

why’d you only call me when you’re high

draco x reader

The phone rang once, but he didn’t even move a muscle.

It rang twice and somewhere in his dream he heard the far away tone, incrypted into the situation his unconscious was putting him into.

It rang three times, and he was a little more connected to reality.

By the fourth rang he recognized it was his phone. It was not in his dreams.

“Fuck” He muttered and turned around to grab the little piece of shit from the table.

The screen light hit him like a punch in the face. The first thing he recognized was the hour. A sixth rang. 3 and a half.

“Who the fuck…” His eyes fought to accustom to the light as he tried to read the name on his phone screen. “For God’s sake” He muttered now. By the time, the phone had rang like ten times and it stopped just in the moment.

Draco left out a sight and turned around to fall sleep again, leaving it on mute lying on his hand.

Vibration. It started to vibrate now.

He tried to ignore it. He didn’t need to turn off the call, just sleep. He never even heard it for all she knew.

“Goddamn it”

He picked it up.

Silence. Complete silence. He was not going to say a word. A breath could be heard coming from the other side of the line.

His eyes started to adjust to the darkness as he heard her breathing, realizing that coming back to sleep would be a little bit harder every second he stayed awake like this, just waiting for some rational words to come from someone completely irrational.

“Draco” She finally whispered.

“Yeah” He replied. “What is it?”

“What are you doing? Wait…” Draco left out another sight and passed a hand through his face “no come on…” She started to speak away from the phone, other voices were clearly being heard but he couldn’t understand what they were saying “fuck off… come on I told you to fuck off” She kept saying

“Y/N” His voice was raspy, exhausted.

“Sorry…” She said now, she was dragging her words as them were bricks.

“I was sleeping, what else would have I been doing”

Silence. Again.

He could just hang up, come back to sleep and preoccupy about his goddamn sleeping hours instead of whatever she wanted this time. It was just as easy as that, but the phone kept pressed in his ear as if a miracle were about to happen.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked, her voice sounded a little bit broken now.

“Where are you Y/N?”

“Pansy’s birthday” She replied. “Are you mad at me?”

“For being at Pansy’s birthday?”

By the time, Draco got up from the bed. Phone still in his ear, he directed to the kitchen to pick a glass of water as fighting the urge to stay awake had became an impossible mission.

“I know we are not getting back together I just…” She started mumbling. Draco sighed again while the water started to flow from the bottle into the glass. “I just wanted to know how you are doing”

“At 3 in the morning?” He asked and took a sip of water, lying by the kitchen counter.

“Draco…”

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high, Y/N?”

“I’m no…”

“Yeah and I’m not Draco fucking Malfoy, come on.” He left the glass of water in the table and headed to the sofa.

Silence again. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. What words to come out of her mouth, maybe something rational, maybe she would be able to say something this time that would make him wanna surrender, make him wanna pick up the car keys and drive.

“I just missed you.”

Now he was silence. Waiting for her to keep pushing, it was not enough compared to the shit she had pulled him through, but that was not enough either to make him want to leave.

“Can I come over?”

“No”

“Draco…”

“I said no” He repeated. And hell if it was hard for him to say.

“I’m sorry”

“For what exactly?”

“For calling” She said. “For waking you up, for keeping you up. Now and every time I did. I’m sorry.”

He sighed once again. His heart was racing in a way that was completely out of his control and he was making a big effort not to sob in the middle of his living room, cause if he did, he was doomed.

“Listen,” She spoke again. “You don’t have to forgive me, it’s fine. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. I regret loosing you every day”

This time, a sob was heard, but at the other side of the line. Draco’s eyes were fixing in the window by the couch, wanting to throw the cellphone against the wall and break it to pieces.

“Go back to sleep, sorry I waked you. Goodbye” And by that, she hang up.

He stayed still for a few seconds until he abruptly drop the phone on the living table. His feet started to pace up and down in an anxious manner and his hands came back to his face. He was fighting with himself, trying so hard to think about the right thing to do but a voice in his mind was convincing him that it may not be that bad to challenge the odds.

He looked back out the window.

“Fuck it.”

Draco stood, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. Then he came back go his phone and texted that cursed number once again and for the last time.

“Send the address”

[sickness-stricken]

Analyzing Lily Orchard losing her fucking mind in real time

@lily-is-a-gooner has the post debunking the fact that this event was not staged, but I wanted to go over some of the noteworthy things I think are worth dissecting. Strap in, this one’s probably gonna be long.

Video link for anyone playing along at home:

[3:15] “You’ve got these things causing fucking car crashes, cuz they go off in people’s cars, startle them and cause them to veer into oncoming traffic!”

I’ll need to see a source on that before I believe it. Looking up “car crashes caused by amber alert” only brings up instances of kidnapped children that the amber alerts were for being involved in a car crash. Wouldn’t there be some study showing that reports for car crashes have an uptick within the hour of an EAS alarm being sent out?

[3:26] “AND THEY SEND THEM ALL THE GODDAMN TIME! […] You’re gonna get one of these things once a fucking week!”

No you won’t. Like. That is factually false. Excluding the test that just got sent out this month I get MAYBE one every three months. They are NOT common.

I thought maybe I was the outlier in that I live in Middle-of-nowhere, Alberta so I asked my Ontarian friend if they were more common there (you know, given the larger population) and what do ya know

[3:42] “We had one of these come out when Covid was happening! Like, Stephen, we all knew Covid was deadly, we didn’t need you to blow up everyone’s phones over it!”

I was ready to clown on this given I thought she was referring to Stephen Harper who hasn’t been PM since 2015 but I THINK she’s referring to Stephen McNeil who was the Premier of Nova Scotia in 2020. I don’t personally remember that alert going out (but I also have the memory of an anemic goldfish so that isn’t a high bar to clear) so maybe it was only a NS thing but I would assume for a national state of emergency that would be sent out by the NPAC? So, all parts of Canada? What would that have to do with Premier McNeil?

Don’t take this part super seriously I’m mostly just spitballing, this very well could just be an honest slip up on Lily’s part

[5:52] “I get amber alerts for shit that happens in Yarmouth! That’s a 3 hour drive away from me, the fuck you want me to do?!”

Hey, you know how earlier you said the amber alerts are usually about kids that wander off or are taken by a parent in a CUSTODY DISPUTE? Ya think that parent taking the kid is gonna STICK AROUND? They very well could be in Halifax by the time the alert actually goes out depending on how far the parent is willing to go. I myself jumped provinces to escape an abusive situation, that’s not exactly a long drive in comparison.

[6:36] (I’m gonna paraphrase this but essentially she’s talking about how 911 got swarmed with calls just bitching about the alarm going off in the first place and when they said not to abuse the line Lily calls this hypocrisy)

Lily the alerts are reporting imminent emergencies. If a kid (or really anyone) goes missing and they aren’t found in 48 hours it’s safe to assume they’re GONE. Calling 911 to complain about the alarm waking you up (despite them not being responsible for it) clogs up the lines when an ACTUAL report could be trying to get through. This is not comparable to a province using an emergency line for something that needs immediate attention just because it doesn’t affect you directly.

Feel like it’s also worth noting I’ve never seen anyone who wasn’t a conservative complain about the alerts at night. If it’s really that much of an issue you can turn your phone off at night (which you really should do anyway, it’s better for the battery) and get an alarm clock. If you know this to be an issue for you and the solution is completely within your control it is your responsibility to avoid this specific issue.

[7:46] (paraphrasing again: Lily is accusing people who are okay with the alerts going off at night of being hypocrites because they’ll just click their phones off and go back to sleep)

Again, this reeks of self-centrism and I’m once again unsure if Lily is aware that people who aren’t her exist. Yes, the person who acknowledges night alerts as a good thing may dismiss the notification. However, they acknowledge that people working night shift, such as hospital workers or those working at 24hr drive thrus/gas stations ARE awake and able to keep an eye out for certain descriptors, licence plates etc. This is not a hypocritical stance.

[9:10] “I can’t do anything while [the alarm] is playing. I just have to clap my hands over my ears and wait for it to end.”

…no??? You can literally swipe it away like any other notification and the noise stops. What are you talking about.

[9:30] (Not typing allat: Lily uses Japan as an example of how they use different alarms for different emergencies)

Oh hey look! Lily saying Japan did something good for once!

Gotta love how she picked the one country that doesn’t have an alarm that’s ominous as hell because literally almost every other country has an alarm that is just as if not more shit-in-pants worthy than Canada’s if it was played abruptly and at max volume

Maybe this is just personal opinion but I think it’s a good thing that all emergencies are regarded at the same level here. If we had a different, lessened alarm for when a child goes missing then people could immediately go “cool don’t care” instead of reading it at least once quickly to see what it says.

Alright that’s it for me I didn’t have a closing statement I’m gonna go take a nap… with my phone off

[cherie-doll]

ughhh, tell me why i can't get könig being at his peak dilf era out of my head

like that man sometimes wakes up feeling tired even after he gets a full eight hours of sleep and will look in the mirror thinking he's let himself go from all the years of drinking alcohol giving him a dad bod but you love it??? like he doesn't understand why someone as attractive as you is going after him, seriously what's wrong with people nowadays he thinks?

but those muscles haven't gone away and they still are very much noticeable under those formal suits he wears to reunions ;D you're clinging to his arm, feeling him under the layers of clothes while he's sweating like crazy under it

he'll look around at your grand selection of younger candidates but you're stubborn on wanting this rugged bull

eventually his flaws would surely bore you, right? wrong, even in all those years of "experience" he doesn't realize that only makes you seek to grow closer not further apart

and he accidentally enables this, he'll be mindlessly trying to get a twig or something out of your hair and your mind is static just enjoying the feeling of those big, veiny hands running through your hair and that deep voice that is now slow and deliberate because he thinks before talking now, you saw that man washing the dishes and you just stand there leaning against the doorframe imagining him with an apron not caring if he's not washing the dishes right or he's letting the water drip everywhere

him snoring softly on the couch with a drink in his hand and you're practically frothing at the mouth with how good he looks in those sweatpants, or his appetite still being big and you don't care that he eats like two or three big plates in one sitting you're just glad he prefers home cooked meals to dining out

oh and he was prescribed glasses by the doctor so anytime he's reading or watching tv in the evenings you're blocking his view by sitting on his lap and pushing the glasses up or down his nose

and what about all the medicine he takes? twins! you too! him for physical health and you for mental-

doesn't matter if he's greying, feeling more tired, aching and feeling sore, takes things slower you want that man and it's making you feral.

[mullet-stan101]

Werewolf Stan x Reader

Chapter 4, tw: some mentions of body transformation

Ford huffs and shakes his head, despite his annoyance he doesn’t want to leave her alone with Stan. He settles into the armchair next to the couch and scribbles in his journal as y/n aimlessly pets the big wolf. Eventually all three of them drift off, the only sound being the steady breathing of the big beast. The next morning Stan wakes up in a groggy haze, completely unaware of his surroundings…and the fact that he still has his head in y/n’s lap. He blinks and sits up quickly, blushing deep red despite her still being asleep. He groans as the motion causes his head to spin and he goes to get up but his eyes widen seeing that he’s naked under the blankets.

“Aw geesh-”

Y/n blinks slowly as he speaks and rubs her eyes as she’d fallen asleep sitting upright. She looks over, and seeing Stan that way embarrasses her just as much, flushing red.

“Oh- uh…”

Stan wraps the blanket around his waist with shaky hands as he stands, holding the blanket tight. 

“I-uh…I’m gonna change…”

A few minutes later he comes back in a t-shirt and jeans, obviously a little shaken up as he glances over to Ford.

“He drug me or something? I don’t remember anything…I didn’t hurt you did I?”

Y/n shakes her head as she stretches, her back popping as she’d been sleeping in a weird position. Despite knowing that Stan is nervous she can’t help but smile a little.

“No and no…I don’t think you’d hurt a fly.”

Stan frowns in confusion and chuckles dryly.

“Uh…you’re joking right?”

“Nope. You were a big baby.”

Stan flushes at this and despite being grateful he didn’t hurt you��his ego is bruised a little as he sits back down.

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/n laughs softly.

“You scared me at first, but once you realized Ford and I wouldn’t hurt you, you were a big sweetheart. You laid right here in my lap all night while I pet you.”

Stan rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment but his eyes soften as he hears how you comforted him.

“You did, huh? Takin’ care of the overgrown dog. You shoulda been a little more cautious.”

“Oh I was terrified at first, but it was like…you recognized Ford and I…you got my scent and it was like the flip of a switch.”

Stan smiles softly at this, breathing a sigh of relief as well.

“Well uh- thanks for not shootin’ me with a silver bullet. Lord knows Ford would…”

He trails off at this as he looks over at his twin sleeping in the corner, and y/n can see the pain in his eyes despite his nonchalant tone.

“What…what happened between you two…?” 

Stan sighs softly as he didn’t realize you could see the way he was feeling.

“It’s a long story…”

“I’ve got time…” 

An hour later the two of them sit over coffee as Stan tells his story, Ford continuing to sleep as he definitely needs it. Y/n sighs deeply as she didn’t realize the full extent of Stan’s hurt. 

“I’m really sorry you’ve had to go through all that…”

He scoffs and waves a hand dismissively as he sips his coffee.

“Ah don’t mention it, the past ten years have really been my fault. I’ve been too focused on proving myself to my pa…that I haven’t just focused on supporting myself. I’ve given up on bein’ a millionaire now…I just don’t wanna die alone in ditch.”

She nods softly and looks down at the cup in her hands. 

“Y’know…I was the same way. When Ford and I were in college we both dreamed of making a name for ourselves, famous scientists and the discovery of a lifetime. But now that I see how much Ford’s work consumes him…I just wanna be happy.” 

Stan’s eyes soften in concern. 

“Why don’t you tell him…? Why don’t you leave?” 

“Because I hoped for something…I hoped that we could just be normal…”

She trails off as she glances over at Ford sleeping, not really wanting to expose her original feelings for him. Stan of course can already tell, and he feels bad for her  and his brother…he didn’t used to be this way. He taps his fingers anxiously as he doesn’t want to steal her from Ford, but from what she’s said whatever affection she had for him is fading. Stan loves his brother, but he can’t help but be drawn to the bright girl that he’s ignoring. 

“So uh…I’ve told you my whole life story…tell me about yours.” 

She raises an eyebrow but smiles a little, despite all of the stuff he’s dealing with right now he still cares. So she tells him all about herself, the two of them talking and joking for a while until Ford wakes and shuffles back down into his lab. Stan chuckles softly as she goes into full detail about how he acted last night.

“Well I’m both embarrassed and relieved…you don’t mind dealin’ with me like that huh?”

She smiles softly as she meets his gaze.

“I don’t mind dealing with you at all…” 

Stan blushes as she meets his gaze and he feels hope blossoming in his heart. 

"You're real sweet, y'know that? You don't mind having a homeless werewolf living with you?"

She laughs softly. 

"Not when he actually talks to me...I like him a lot."

Stan smiles at this as he sips his coffee, oh he likes her an awful lot. He talks to her for a while and despite enjoying what she says he begins to zone out a bit as the words "I like him a lot" repeat over and over in his brain. A pretty girl actually likes him, better yet just someone actually likes him...And somehow these horrible circumstances have becomes better, despite his insecurities about his new condition he's slowly getting cocky. He forgets his situation and just grins at her, he's falling for this girl.

Stan finishes his conversation with y/n reluctantly as she has research to do. As Ford finally wakes up he watches as he goes into his study, following him quietly. Ford glances back with a frown as he goes to his bookcase, but stops as he doesn’t want to reveal what’s behind it.

“What do you want?

Stan frowns back, rolling his eyes. 

“Geesh you act like you’re hidin’ a dead body or something. I know you’ve got some secret lab down there, I was just wondering what you were doing.”

Ford sighs and he steps back from the bookcase.

“Stanley…this is serious research, I just don’t think you could handle it.”

Stan barks out a laugh.

“You forget that I spent last night as an overgrown dog. I’m pretty much part of your “serious supernatural research” now. Are you really just going to hide from both of us?”

Ford huffs and closes his journal roughly.

“Both of us? That early, huh? You’ve been conscious for two days, Stanley.” 

Stan raises an eyebrow, looking confused as to why that phrase made Ford upset. 

“Uh…I’m lost…what’s the problem?”

Ford chuckles dryly as he sits down.

“Don’t pull the naive card, Stanley…you think you know y/n better than me but you don’t…”

Stan rolls his eyes at this, knowing he struck a nerve, and he can already feel the jealousy in the air. 

“Oh that’s the problem. Well I’m sorry that I acknowledge there’s a second person in the house, it’s kinda hard to deal with turning into a little movie monster on your own…”

Ford sighs and he adjusts his glasses, sitting upright.

“I’m sorry…it’s just- I don’t know what I’ve done wrong to have her hate me so much…”

“She don’t hate you…”

Ford shrugs a little. 

“Maybe not…as long as she doesn’t hate me enough to leave, that’s alright.”

Stan frowns slightly at this, not liking how Ford only sees y/n as a colleague rather than a friend. But he doesn’t say anything because he can’t help but feel a little excited at this…this kind of leaves the door open for him.

“So- uh…how’d you two meet anyways?”

Ford glances up as he didn’t expect Stan to be this curious.

“We- uh…we met in college. I helped her with chemistry and she helped me with my biology courses. I suppose we were good friends at one point…”

He trails off a little as he says this and sighs.

“She’s a nice girl…you like her don’t you?”

Stan blinks in surprise, attempting to hide his blush. 

“Yeah- um…she’s pretty nice. Even if she took care of me like a pet…”

Ford chuckles softly, his mood lightening a little.

“Yes, she’s always been fond of animals, and speaking of which- do you think I could run some tests? I’d like to get some samples tonight.”

Stan shrugs as he plops down next to him.

“Yeah I guess so, as long as you don’t prick me and all that junk.”

An hour later Ford has taken some hair and DNA samples, restraining from getting Stanley’s blood at this point, even though it’s vital. He decides to try and get some tonight as well as some of the wolf’s fur. Stan isn’t fond of changing again and he can’t help but think of y/n, wondering if she’ll care for him like the night before. He doesn’t want to force her too, but it feels pretty nice to be taken care of for once, even if he can’t remember a thing.

“Hey, Stanford…? You think you got anything- for the pain?”

Ford frowns softly as he thinks, flipping through his journal.

“I don’t know…I have tranquilizers but I don’t really know if they’d work. But I don’t exactly want to use silver either. If I get some more DNA samples I might be able to see what reacts to it.”

Stan sighs in defeat. 

“So I gotta go through it cold turkey until then, huh?”

“Unfortunately yes.” 

That evening Stan sits anxiously tapping his fingers on the couch armrest. He glances over to y/n as she reads next to him, but she notices how anxious he is without looking up.

“You alright?”

Stan stiffens as he didn’t know she noticed.

“No…the suspense sucks.”

She nods and closes the book she was reading and looks at him. 

“I know…does it hurt?”

He hesitates as he tries to remember, but then the memory of body contorting and changing comes back.

“Yeah, but it’s like a crazy dream at the same time. One second I feel all of it, I can look down and see all the freaky crap that’s happening to my body, and the next- it’s like I’ve been asleep the whole time.”

“So you don’t remember anything after you’ve changed?”

“Nope, it’s like I’m knocked out.”

She frowns a little in thought, obviously wondering what part of him is conscious when he’s changed. It’s obviously a more childlike part of himself. They’re both quiet for a few moments and she glances out the window before looking back at him.

“You can stay out here with me if you’d like…”

He looks up, his eyes a little hopeful. She can’t take away the pain but he’d sure as hell feel a lot better, she cares about him more than anyone ever has.

“That’d be nice, even if it’s kinda freaky.”

She chuckles softly.

“I’ve seen walking trees, wendigos, zombies and a ton of other freaky stuff, I’ll be ok.” 

He smiles softly.

“Ok, well…thanks-” 

He abruptly stops as his hands start to shake, and he shoves them under his thighs.

“Well I guess speak of the devil…” 

Y/n frowns in concern as he starts to shake.

“Hey…hey…just relax, ok?” 

He nods quickly and grits his teeth, his eyes as fearful as they are soft.

“C-can I sit closer…?”

Her eyes soften and she nods, within a moment he scoots close. She rubs his arm a little as he takes deep breaths, and she doesn’t shy away as he groans, his body making a strange sound as he begins to grow. But her eyes widen as she looks down at his hand gripping her, already large enough as it is, it grows enormous and claws form. Fur starts to grow all over his arms and his clothes stretch and tear. He groans and shakes, his body burning as he tries to stop it even though it’s no use.

“M’sorry…it hurts…”

She doesn’t hesitate to pull him close, his head buried against her neck as he growls in pain. She rubs his back even as it grows big and covered in fur, speaking to him quietly even as a muzzle starts to press against her shoulder. 

“It’s ok, Stanley…I’m right here.”

Minutes later his body stops shaking, the enormous wolf still holding her tight, her smaller body pressed against his bulk and nuzzles her cheek with a quiet rumble, as if to say ‘thank you.’ Y/n chuckles softly as his cold nose touches her cheek and she reaches up to rub his ears. 

“You’re welcome.” 

He pulls away from her, smiling in its own way as its big brown eyes have a child-like innocence in them. He looks around the living room, empty except for y/n, and she chuckles again as she knows he’s looking for Ford. 

“He should be done with his work soon…”

A few minutes later Ford trudges up the stairs from his lab and enters the living room. Immediately Stan's ears stand up and his tail wags quickly, excited to see his brother. Ford raises an eyebrow as he stops, still surprised to see him there again. His eyes widen as without hesitation, the wolf stands on two feet and pads over to him. 

“W-when did he learn how to do that???”

Y/n laughs as Stan towers over Ford and squeezes him up in a hug. Ford stiffens as he’s pulled up off his feet, his glasses askew as he’s picked up like a ragdoll.

“What the-? Y/n help me out here!”

She takes a minute to contain herself and grins. 

“Bring him over here big boy.”

Stan grins and carries him over, plopping down next to y/n with his brother in his lap, excited like he’s his new toy. He sniffs at Ford’s glasses and coat to which his twin huffs and pushes his snout away.

“Aw, Ford be nice…he’s just curious.”

“Curious, my behind! I don’t like being squeezed like a toy!” 

Y/n smiles softly as Stan holds his brother tightly, as if afraid to let him go. Despite the innocent look in his brown eyes, it’s obvious that he wants to protect his brother. Ford sighs as he eventually loosens his hold, and he gets up to sit on the chair, Stan of course watching to make sure he stays close. With Ford out of his grasp he smiles at y/n and reaches a paw over to tug her close. She chuckles and sits close to him, his head immediately going back into her lap as it’s obvious that’s his spot now. Once Ford is settled he pulls out his journal and starts writing fervently.

“It seems he’s biped and quadruped…though I can’t tell if he has a preference yet.”

Y/n lifts up one of Stan’s paws and looks at it closely, rubbing the soft pads. Despite the claws and usual black pads of a wolf or dog they’re on his palm as well as one on the bottom of each of his fingers.

“Huh… he has five fingers too…I didn’t notice that last night.”

Ford nods and writes this down as well, Stan just smiling blissfully as he’s happy to be touched and cared for, even if he has no clue what they’re talking about. 

[silluuuu]

Keep you safe and keep you dreaming

hi friends! wrote a quick lil sickfic for ficwip's 1000-word challenge (write a fic with exactly 1000 words) that doubles as a gift to my no-longer-sick friend @anxietybard!! thank u to @toweroftunes for the beta!! pls give it a read under the cut or on AO3 <3

She hates when he’s sick, and he can’t help feeling guilty about it.

Soul tosses another tissue into the trash-can heap, watching as it tumbles down the mound of bunched-up microbes and nestles itself against the rim. He lets out a sigh that is noisier than usual, mucus corroding the sides of the exhaust pipe that is his throat.

He understands the root of her discomfort, of course. It’s not so much the present cough and sniffles as it is the memories it brings back. It’s the past that eats at her soul, for lack of a better word. Because when he’s sick, she makes herself sick with her own consumption, her own acidic bile of regrets. He knows what she sees, when he’s lying in his own bed in the apartment: the Soul of ten years prior, bedridden and feverish in an infirmary cot, looking like the first cut into an ultra-rare steak.

He tries to remember this, to empathize with this, when she’s being the way she is now, three hours deep into a WebMD rabbit hole and shoving both remedies and conspiracies in his face.

“An orange is a perfectly reasonable thing to eat when you’re sick!” she’s saying from the foot of his bed, holding a plate with a full-on pyramid of them balanced in her left hand, the other hand defensive on her hip.

“S’not the idea of oranges that’s unreasonable, it’s the fact that you’re giving me twelve ,” he grits out. He wants to lie back dramatically, but he’s too clogged up to do so. 

Many moons ago, he would’ve thought of the orange onslaught as a thinly-veiled attempt to keep Blair out of his room, having heard way too many warnings and factoids about cats and their aversions to citrus over the years. As if on cue, Blair yells out a grateful “Thaaank you~!” from the living room, her keen nose having registered the oranges’ absence.

Years prior, Blair would have been way too happy to ‘play nurse’ for him in his vulnerable state - something that had always irked Maka, obviously. To be fair, he sort of feels like having someone lie in bed with him might be pretty helpful for his recuperations, though he has a strong first choice for this assignment, and it certainly has never been Blair.

“Twelve oranges might be good for you!” Maka insists, pinking in the cheeks at his mental suggestions. Their link is always more open when he’s sick; it takes too much effort to keep his walls up that he doesn’t want to expend, and all she usually hears is vague sniffling and doom-and-glooming, so. “Besides,” she adds, suddenly serious. “Scurvy’s making a comeback.”

“You think I have scurvy? ”

“I’m just saying that an orange or twelve couldn’t hurt!” she exclaims, moving to place the plate on his bedside table. He snatches his phone off its charger just in time to avoid death by Annoying Orange, and makes good use of it to pull up the symptoms for scurvy.

As he scrolls, he starts to grin. “Hah. Maybe I caught it from you.” At her curious glance, he adds: “Apparently one of the main symptoms of scurvy is being chronically irritable.”

She huffs, rolling her eyes at him as she exits. Guilt renewed, he sends out an apology on the airwaves, one that she meets with a brush of mental fingers.

M’not going anywhere, okay? he thinks, sending the words through the gap in the door, a love letter. Promise.

There’s a sound like a sigh in her soul, followed by a montage of emotions. An old, deep, burning fear. An undying flame, smothered by time, suddenly reborn. And then - relief. Comfort. And then… guilt of her own, for being the one who needs the comfort.

Go sleep s’more , she thinks back, voice growing weaker as she heads deeper into the house. I’ll be here when you wake up.

The reciprocal I promise that she tacks on is a mere whisper of a thought, but he hears it nonetheless. It’s an effective anesthetic, lulling him into a nap.

He dreams of orange peels and dark cathedrals, the old ache across his ribs tugging at something still-unhealed in his psyche.

When he awakes, it’s to a new smell - a bowl of chicken soup, steam rising and catching the late afternoon sunlight through his window. Next to it, a cascade of saltine crackers arcs along the accompanying plate. A mug of tea sits at its side, steaming slightly as well. The oranges are still there, moved slightly back. She’s left him a tiny space on the table for his phone to sit, which he sheepishly plugs in.

He reaches out for the soup and takes a sip, the ache in his chest slightly soothed. He smiles a little, savoring it, taking in the quiet of the room, the way the steam clears his head, opens his sinuses.

Once he’s almost done, the door clicks open - she’d felt him wake up, of course.

“Is it okay?” she asks.

“S’delicious,” he says, clearing his throat a little.

“Good,” she says, business-like, taking the empty bowl and placing it on the table. And then, slightly less businesslike: “Can I come in?”

He looks up at her, gaze soft as he takes in her embarrassment, as if they haven’t been doing this for years. “Duh.”

She lifts the comforter and clambers in, getting settled and resting her head on his chest.

“You sure you wanna stay?” he asks after a few minutes, poking at her shoulder. “Might get sick.” “S’worth it,” she mutters, ducking her head. “Besides. I’ve had plenty of vitamin C.”

“You sure?” he asks. “Got some oranges I could lend you.”

She scoffs in response, squeezing at his side. 

For the rest of the afternoon, they lie wrapped in each other, comforted by the fact that, amidst the steam and the scent of oranges and the promise of not going anywhere - that suddenly, it’s slightly easier to breathe.

[apomaro-mellow]

Runaway Royalty 10

Part 9

Eddie spent the rest of the evening convening with his inner circle in one of the cave’s alcoves, speaking so quietly, there wasn’t a way to figure out where the conversation was going, even when Steve found reason to go by the mouth of it no less than three times. Not that he was counting. No, Robin was and before he could make his forth pass, she hooked her arm with his and dragged him off to the space she’d taken as their own. 

“I’d say you look as lost as a child but I’ve never seen a pup so forlorn as you right now.”

“I do not!”, Steve pulled his arm away and sat on the blankets provided to them.

Robin knew that pose. It was his ‘I’m going to sit in front of my vanity and primp’ pose that he did. Usually to ignore someone until they went away. But as he didn’t have a vanity-

“Where did you get that?”, Robin gasped as Steve took out a compact mirror.

“I always pack the essentials”, Steve said, looking himself over, fluffing his hair with one hand while the other held the mirror.

Robin rolled her eyes. “You can’t ignore me forever with that little thing.”

“I can ignore you just long enough.” He brought the mirror closer, looking for what, Robin couldn’t tell. Steve would spend hours in front of his vanity and Robin could never tell you what Steve had even changed. But he always seemed satisfied by the end of it.

Robin plopped down next to him, scooting until her head was in his lap. Steve was able to hold out for approximately thirty seconds before looking down at her. Only to see her eyes had gotten big, round, and wet. Steve groaned.

“Don’t use those against me. I’m the one who taught you how to do that.”

“I learned from the best”, Robin pouted.

Steve sighed and put the mirror away. Robin smiled in triumph and sat up, leaning her shoulder against his. Steve sighed again and nuzzled the top of her head. She may have been an alpha and he an omega, but he was still her big brother. That five minute difference meant something to  him.

“What are you thinking about?”, Robin asked.

“It’s silly.”

“Sillier than running away from home?”

“It’s as silly as thinking that we may need to return home”, Steve confessed.

Robin blinked and pulled away. “Wait, are you serious?”

“Eddie said that Prince Edwin’s disappearance is causing distress among his kingdom. With you and I gone, our kingdom won’t be too far behind.”

Robin frowned. “You don’t think there’ll be a coup, do you? Or a war? Just over us? There’s still a whole line of succession.”

“Having three royals suddenly disappear is no small thing”, Steve said.

“Yes, but we didn’t know about Prince Edwin when we did it”, Robin pointed out. “And do you really want to be apart from Eddie?”

Steve brought his knees up to his chest. “You know I don’t. I know this is just infatuation but I…it’s silly.”

“You’re very silly today.”

“Could it not become a true romance? If it were given time?”

Robin laid her head on Steve’s shoulder and rubbed her cheek against it, scenting him. “I think whatever you want to do, you should do it soon. It feels like our path and his will diverge soon.”

That night, they cuddled up close together and fell asleep. Royal blood dictated that after a certain age, they had to sleep separately. Common folk typically slept with their pack in nests but if the royal family did so, it made it all the more easier for assassins. They’d both missed being able to sleep with each other.

But when morning came, Robin tugged his ear gently, coaxing him awake. It might have been gentle, but he was still annoyed by it and tried going back to sleep. 

“You have a gentleman caller”, she whispered into his ear.

Steve stiffened and then quickly relaxed. He whispered back. “How long?”

“He’s been stalking for about ten minutes.”

He wanted to slap her. “And you didn’t wake me?”

“I’ve been trying.”

Steve turned onto his back, pretending to stretch and yawn, then rose to a sitting position. He fixed his hair up a bit just in time to hear Eddie’s footsteps move across their cave. But instead of continuing, as if he were patrolling, he paused at the mouth of it.

“Oh, you’re up.”

“I am”, Steve said, voice soft.

Robin could have rolled her eyes but she refrained. She knew Eddie was trying to talk to Steve but was being annoyingly coy about it. It was a little funny though, watching Steve put on the whole ‘demure omega’ act.

“Well good morning to you. And to you Robin”, Eddie gave a bow.

“Good morning Eddie. I assume you have business with my brother, yes?”

“That I do, if I may have your leave”, he said as he rose back up.

“Hmm, I don’t know, the last time you two were left alone-”

Steve threw the blanket off of himself, into Robin’s face and got up to meet Eddie at the mouth of the cave. “Ignore her. She doesn’t know when a joke has gone too far.”

Eddie chuckled as he watched Robin struggle under the fabric. “Oh but ‘tis no joke for me. She is your kin and an alpha at that. I intend to do right by the both of you.”

“And to what end?”, Steve asked.

“I invited you both to join my pack. That makes you my responsibility.”

“Is that why you wish to converse with Steve alone?”, Robin asked, finally getting to her feet.

Eddie’s cheeks flushed and he hesitated to answer just long enough for Robin to scoff. He was so incredibly obvious. He and Steve deserved each other, truly.

“Go on, the both of you. Just remember sound travels in these tunnels.”

Now Steve was blushing but he was already rushing Eddie out. It was odd, how short they’d known each other and yet he couldn’t wait to get him alone again.

“So what did you want to talk about?”, Steve asked, their arms linked together.

Eddie’s heart swelled when their gazes met. He couldn’t believe he’d come to care for someone in such a short amount of time. He may need to return as Prince Edwin, but that didn’t mean he had to part from Steve, did it? Eddie wanted to believe his fiance would understand. Wherever he was. Maybe Prince Stephen had gone to elope with his own lover, Eddie couldn’t be sure.

The only thing he could be sure of was the fact that he wanted more time with the omega on his arm right now. Not some faceless royal who he’d never met. Eddie led their stroll across the main cavern, towards his own space.

“I meant what I said. I invited you and Robin to join us. And I know we haven’t officially set it, but I already consider the both of you pack.” 

Eddie felt emboldened when he could smell Steve’s interest. When they got to his den, Eddie sat Steve on a pillow. One that seemed like it was meant for nicer places than a cave. A blanket over the mouth acted as a privacy curtain for the space.

“You heard what I said last night. I have to return home. Someone else will lead the bandits. But you and Robin you could…” Eddie knelt in front of Steve. “You could come and stay with me.”

“S…stay with you?”, Steve breathed out.

“I want to court you the way you deserve, Steve. For longer than a day, for longer than a month. You deserve love letters, and courting gifts, and for me to earn Robin’s approval.”

“You would do all of that? Welcome us into your home and promise me all of that?”

Eddie grabbed Steve’s hands. “I may not look like I come from much but we’ve got plenty of room.” It was all Eddie had thought about last night. Bringing Steve into the castle, introducing him to his family and being allowed to show the world his love. It was unorthodox, a prince courting and then marrying a commoner. But it was what his parents had done. That was something he’d been entirely truthful about.

Not many knew exactly what happened to the Bandit King. But Princess Tannis falling for someone below her station was well known. His parents would be hypocrites to not accept Steve. If they had a problem with it, he’d run away again. But Steve was meant for the throne.

“If I accept…”, Steve started, his hands smoothing up Eddie’s arms. “Would we be allowed to consummate the courtship?”

“I don’t see why not”, Eddie said, his own arms coming around Steve’s waist and bringing them to their feet. 

Their faces got close, pausing to savor their scents mixing when the blanket was pulled back, revealing Gareth. “I drew the short straw. Come and eat.”

Steve sighed but Eddie patted his hip. “All for the best, my sweet. I said you deserve better than a forest floor and I didn’t mean a cave.” Now that his path was clear, Eddie knew exactly what he had to do. What he wanted to do. Any thoughts of Prince Stephen had been completely erased from his mind. It was all just Steve, Steve, Steve.

Part 11 coming soon

[starmocha]

This is just a love letter to the devs, because they are not celebrated enough for their achievements and genuine love for the game and players.

With the recent announcement of the upcoming update and new love interest's debut, It's truly been amazing to see how far the game has come from their years in development to the official launch to now, six months later. The game has evolved in ways unimaginable with no true comparison to other otome games on the market. The strive to always improve, to implement new features, to take into consideration their audience's critique and criticism is truly admirable.

The thought, care, and planning of just not the main story, but also for each individual love interest is unlike any other otome games I have played in the past. They are truly wanting to create an immersive experience—actual memories—for their audience, and it is working. We have grown attached and fond of the characters from the main love interests to even the side characters.

Take into the fact that LADS is a global game, the coordination that went into making sure news and trailer releases are happening concurrently for players across different regions is mind-blowing.

As with any company, controversaries will happen. They could easily ignore any controversaries that come along, but instead they have chosen to be transparent with their players, which in this case was about Sylus' leak. They weren't obligated to address the issue, write letters to the players, or even share the first unscheduled preview, but clearly they have discussed within the company on how to handle the issue and have concluded that this was a decision they felt comfortable with and was necessary on their part.

For all of the jokes and jabs about personal financial woes, I am truly happy to see where my hard-earned money is going. I've played otome games for years, and have rarely ever been a F2P player, so from a spender's POV, I feel satisfied knowing my money is going to the hardworking people that have developed this game and being reinvested into the game for the future.

Elaborating further on the previous point: we have writers for the story, artists, programmers, video developers, voice actors, marketing team, musicians, etc. Truly, I can't wrap my head around just how many people are involved and feel sorry that I can't personally sing praises to them all.

With all of the new features we are getting in the upcoming update, that alone makes me feel happy to see that my money is not just going to a business to make a profit, but that it is being reinvested into the game.

With so much contents being developed behind the scene, I have no problem being patient when it comes to the main story. The next development looks to be a truly exciting one well worth the wait.

Even the planning of the livestream was a joy to witness. Using the kitties (giving them personalities and voices), creating a "news broadcast", the script for the livestream, and the personal letter at the end from the LADS team—everything about it felt so immersive and the letter was truly touching to read. We are being spoiled in so many ways and it's truly disappointing that there is even a small group that can't see this.

Now with such a big update around the corner, they will most likely release another survey for players to partake in. Please remember that surveys can be used to voice your thoughts on the game: constructive criticism and suggestions allow the devs to reevaluate what is working, what needs to change, and what can be explored in the future. Don't ever feel like your voice is not heard just because you don't see any immediate changes. Let the devs know what you like, what you don't, and what you hope to see in the future. It truly does make a difference.

If you made it this far in my post, then I also want to acknowledge fellow players: you have all made being a part of this community a truly wonderful and joyous experience.

Thank you to the artists for the beautiful artwork and comics shared.

Thank you to the writers for their stories, headcanons, theories, and other works.

The jokes, the memes, and the downright silliness of this fandom have brought many laughs. We're such clowns, but we are clowns together ❤️

Thank you to the people who help share the news, address questions and concerns, and offer game help to players. This has truly been a very welcoming fandom, and let's strive to keep it that way. 🥹

Thank you to everyone who has ever interacted, even if it's just a reblog, dropping a comment, gushing in the tags, etc. The genuine joy and love for the characters and game is one of the reasons why I personally am still invested. I am always happy to see people showing excitement during events, reacting to posts, etc. I am especially truly pleased by the respect the Tumblr community have for each other. Let's continue to make this a safe and welcoming place for current and future players! ❤️❤️❤️

Feel free to hijack my post. I encourage everyone to add their own thoughts. It's been a wonderful almost six months with all of you. I hope this continues. 🫶

[dandyshucks]

crawls in here coughing and wheezing... everyone is so niceys to me.....

[exopelagic]

okay facing consequences of my actions

[ghostickle]

I feel like I can’t complain about my roommates cause they are the only reason I have somewhere to stay right now but at the same time she keeps misgendering me and has this whole thing with pronouns especially they/them cause she had a friend that used to call her they when she’s a cis girl

[ms-demeanor]

I think the eight alarms thing is usually a maladaptation. You've trained your brain to ignore the eight alarms because you kept avoiding the training of willpower following the first alarm would require. I think some sleep therapy might help?

Hey so first of all fuck you, thanks.

Second: I love it when you read literature on sleep disorders, especially if it's on sleep disorders among folks with ADHD, and you see time and time again "when allowed to sleep on their preferred schedule subjects maintained healthy, normal, restorative sleep cycles" and "effects were not lasting without ongoing intervention; resetting the sleep schedule is a permanent effort."

Like, if I sleep *great* from 6am to 2pm and I wake up feeling rested and alert with no special help but I need to turn off the lights in my house and shut down all electronics at 8pm and beam a spotlight into my face starting at 5am to wake up at seven and feel exhausted all day, I think perhaps it is not actually my sleep cycle that is wrong it is perhaps society that is wrong.

BELIEVE ME, when I find the job that pays well and has decent insurance that lets me exist as a cheerful nighttime ghoul I am jumping on that with both feet. But until then I literally feel better getting six hours of sleep and occasionally sleeping so hard that i can't hear my alarms because of chronic sleep deprivation than I do turning off all the lights in my house and ceasing all activity two and a half hours after I get off of work.

Also: the eight alarms aren't all there to wake me up, it's just that sometimes I *also* sleep through the ones that are supposed to remind me to go sit at my desk and start work. One of the first three usually gets me up, but on a day when I sleep through all three of those I will be sleeping through all eight of them and usually a phone call and someone trying to shake me awake to.

ANYWAY after being treated with melatonin and light therapy and staring listlessly at the ceiling in the dark bored out of my skull with racing thoughts for sleep disorders that I didn't have for like twenty years the single most effective intervention that allowed me to get more sleep as someone with both ADHD and DSPD was to start hanging out and being active in places where it would be easy to fall asleep if the sleep caught me there instead of turning my bedroom into a dark, silent shrine of snoozing. Giving myself permission to fall asleep late instead of laying awake chewing myself up with guilt for not being asleep helped too.

Actually here's some tips for the sleepy bitches in the crowd:

1 - If you're laying down and not falling asleep in half an hour, you're not actually sleepy; read something or get up and do something because you're more likely to get sleepy faster that way than you are staring at the clock going "if I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and forty five minutes of rest when I have to go to work; If I fall asleep now I'll have three hours and twenty minutes of sleep when I have to get up, etc. etc."

2 - Allow yourself to be ambushed by sleep. Fall asleep on your cozy couch. Fall asleep in the comfy chair. Let yourself sleep where you fall asleep instead of dragging yourself to where you're 'supposed' to sleep if doing so will wake you up.

3 - The mythbusters thing. If you just lay down and close your eyes and pretend to rest you will feel more rested when you get up than when you laid down. Laying down to rest is better than nothing, it literally causes cognitive improvements similar to sleep in tests, and knowing that can help take off some of the pressure of not being able to fall asleep and can thus help you fall asleep.

4 - It's okay to "hang out" in the area where you're going to sleep. Read in bed. Play games on your cellphone in bed. If you want to go to sleep put on comfy clothes and bring a chill activity and hang out in your bed to do it so that all you have to do when you start getting sleepy is close your eyes.

5 - It's better to get some sleep than no sleep. Sometimes you look at the clock and it's six AM and whoops, fuck it. Okay, time for bed, don't stress that you're only going to get a few hours, a few hours is better than nothing. Lay down to pretend to rest at least and you'll probably feel okay.

6 - This one sounds silly and might not work for a bunch of people for a bunch of reasons but apparently there's some research suggesting that "well-rested" is a state of mind? I've had a reasonable amount of success with just telling myself "Yeah, I actually feel pretty good," and pushing through the day on a couple of hours of sleep. I don't *recommend* that and you should try to get as much sleep as possible, but yeah the next time you're low on sleep see what happens if you just try to decide to not be tired. It sounded like bullshit to me when I first heard it but I've found some success with it.

7 - This shit is cumulative. If you're doing a couple nights a week on low sleep that's not ideal but you're probably going to be pretty functional and you can work on it. If you overbook and overextend yourself for too long - I'm looking at you college students and new parents - it's going to add up. Try as much as possible to at least keep your sleep deficit nights spread out. (This message brought to you by writing 60k words of fiction in october and completely frying my brain because i wasn't getting enough sleep).

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! I had a request I’d like to give you. I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders x reader where reader has never slept beside anybody before bc intimacy isn’t something she’s used to therefore she’s not used to being that close to anybody. everytime she shifts she’s afraid to wake up the boys, or she just doesn’t know what to do.

I know you have “first night with marauders” so if this is too similar I totally get it. 🖤

Hello sweetheart, thank you for your request!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 990 words

You’re terrible at this. 

Each of the boys is sound asleep. Sirius has his leg hooked over yours and one of his arms tossed over James’ chest, Remus’ hand has to be halfway numb underneath your pillow, and James is snoring softly on the far side of the bed from you. They’re all so obviously comfortable, practiced in resting like this, whereas you started to get stiff a half hour ago and you’ve been unable to make yourself relax since. 

Every movement takes a year, you’re trying so hard not to wake them. You feel like the girl in a movie who’s trying to sneak out of the bed of a one-night stand, all taut muscles and bated breath, except you only want to roll over. Slow, microscopic movements have to be the key. 

Your back crackles softly when you shift your weight onto your other hip, and a sigh escapes you before you can stop it. 

A low, croaky hum comes from just in front of your face. Your brain is a tempest of expletives. 

“Hey.” You can nearly feel the gravel of Remus’ voice buzzing against your lips. “You’re up.” 

Muddled with sleep, you can’t tell if his tone is reprimanding or simply observational. “Sorry,” you whisper regardless. 

“Wha’ for?” Movement under the pillow beneath your head, and then a long-fingered hand is nestling beneath your cheek. His scars and calluses slide familiarly over your skin. “Can’t sleep?”

Nope, and now it’s two of you. Guilt grows vines around your ribcage. Remus sounds more awake by the second. 

“I’ll be okay.” You press a soft kiss to the corner of his lips, hoping to mollify him. “Go back to sleep.” 

Your boyfriend makes a half-aware disgruntled sound. “No, not without you.” 

As exhausted as you are, you have to bite down on a smile. When he’s uninhibited like this, Remus really is quite the flirt, all his dorky, sweet thoughts coming out before he can remember to stop them. He’s nearly as bad as James. 

You think he must see a hint of your smile in the dark, because Remus’ own lips tilt upwards. He leans closer to kiss the cool skin of your cheek, the only cold part of you thanks to a heavy duvet and the body heat of three lovely boyfriends. A kiss for a kiss. 

He leaves his lips there as he murmurs, “What’s wrong, dove?” 

Well, funny he should ask. What’s wrong now is the slight tickle of his stubble against your cheek, the hoarse quality to his voice in your ear. His breath warming your cold skin, and the hand he slides across the space between you to rest on your hip, layered in between the sheets and your pajama bottoms. 

But you know that’s not what he’s asking. 

“I can’t get very comfortable,” you confess, speaking so softly he wouldn’t be able to make it out if his ear weren’t two inches from your lips, “and I didn’t want to wake anyone up.” 

Remus hums, as though this is a prognosis he’d already reached and was merely waiting for you to confirm. You can hear Sirius’ voice as clearly as if he were awake: know it all. 

“They can sleep through anything,” he says. “One time the fire alarm went off, and James didn’t even stir. Don’t worry about them.” You must be emanating guilt, because he strokes his thumb over your hip pacifyingly. “And I don’t mind being woken up. I’m in and out of sleep all night anyway, it’s not hard for me to get back. You’re not used to sleeping with so many people, yeah?” 

Your face warms at his phrasing, though of course you know what he means. “Or with anyone,” you murmur. 

“Mm. I think I know what you need.” 

You don’t realize Remus’ plan until he’s already sat up. He reaches over you, rubbing James’ shoulder gently while you protest vehemently through whispers. 

James wakes with a yawn, taking Remus’ hand automatically and bringing it close to his face. “Wha’s’it?”

“Take her,” Remus requests drowsily. With his other hand, he nudges you forward. 

James starts to blink his eyes open, and you see no way out. You start climbing over Sirius as delicately as you can. “Sorry,” you whisper, to him, to them, to the room in general. 

Remus helps you out by tugging Sirius into your place. The other boy whines but settles quickly, rolling over to sling his leg over Remus’ instead. 

James welcomes you as heartily as his sleep-addled state will allow, adjusting the covers over you and smudging a few toothpaste-scented kisses onto your face. 

“Y’can’t sleep?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “Sorry.” 

He makes a soft dismissive sound. “C’mere, angel.” 

You refrain from telling him that you’re already here as his arms find their way around you, soft and firm in all the right places and deliciously warm. He starts to make slow, sweeping circles onto your back with his hand. 

“Jamie,” you murmur, grateful but embarrassed, “don’t stay up for me. Go to sleep.” 

“M’basically there,” he replies. “You first, yeah?” 

You can hear Remus’ breathing evening out behind you, syncing with Sirius’, and you’re suddenly sure that this is part of a routine he and the boys shared before you ever met them. That’s how he knew to hand you off to James, and how James knew exactly what to do. Something about that comforts you. And far be it for you to mess with tradition. 

You shuffle closer to James under the covers. He obliges you happily, adjusting his grip so he’s holding you more securely, with your leg resting against his and your forehead an inch from his nose. The shushing of his heavy palm on the material of your pajama top is the only sound in the world. 

You hear his breathing starting to deepen again, but James is right; you beat him there. 

[cowboy1ikereid]

sweet creature ~ s.r.

‘Wherever I go, you bring me home’

Summary: Spencer calls you when he’s missing home.

Warnings: pregnant!reader x husband!spencer, reader is in her second pregnancy and they already have a 3 y/o daughter, spencer is, again, a huge softie, calls you sweetheart, he's called away on an urgent case and misses you, reader is almost in third trimester, they fall asleep on the phone, cuties, inspired by sweet creature by harry styles, fluff and comfort

Category: Fluff x Comfort

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Spencer Reid deserved to get married and have children but he has to be a girl dad and I don't make the rules. I just know he would be the most sweet, caring and loving husband/dad in the world. Anyways I kind of had to do something to this song because I saw it live (Wembley N4 I’ll miss you forever). Enjoy!!

You were exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Being 7 and a half months pregnant and taking care of your 3 year old daughter alone had never been part of the plan. In fact, Spencer was supposed to be working either in office or from home during the later stages of your pregnancy, but a serious case meant that he was needed urgently by the BAU. With only 8 hours notice he was in Florida, and suddenly he was approximately 920.4 miles away from you.

It was around 9pm, and you’d been eagerly awaiting a phone call from your husband. You’d blame your anxiety on the hormones, but you knew it wasn’t just that. You’d always been like this whenever he was away, and you never quite managed to properly adjust to how much travelling his job required. Lizzie, your daughter, was laid next to you in the bed you and Spencer shared, asleep on his side of the bed. She was the same as you whenever her dad was away, even if she didn’t quite understand his job. She was a daddy’s girl, and if sleeping on Spencer’s side of the bed helped her to feel that little bit closer to him when he was away, you would let her. Her curly light brown hair was sprawled across the pillow which she drooled on, unconscious.

Your phone was on silent so the ringer didn’t wake her up, but as soon as you felt the persistent buzzing and Spencer’s name appeared on the screen, you stood, stretching slightly before leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind you, simultaneously swiping the button to answer the call.

“Hi.” You whispered softly, cautious not to wake up your sleeping three-year-old who was in the next room.

“Hi sweetheart. How are you?” Spencer’s sweet voice spoke over the phone.

“Hanging on. I managed to settle Lizzie after she cried because you couldn’t tuck her in tonight.. Little one has been quiet for now, but I just know that she’ll start getting active as soon as I attempt to sleep.” You spoke with a soft smile on your face at the thought of the little life growing inside of you whilst you tiptoed down the stairs and into the living room, sitting down on the sofa with a hand on your round bump, rubbing it gently.

You heard Spencer sigh over the phone. “I miss you. I saw the three of you this morning and it feels like I haven’t seen you in months.” He chuckled. Spencer was alone in his hotel room, and it felt strangely quiet. Unfamiliar. If Spencer was home, you’d be asleep in his arms by now, your soft snores echoing in the darkness of your bedroom. Pregnancy was tiring, after all. But you struggled to sleep without each other, and you knew that. Your house may as well have been cold and empty to you without him there. Your house wasn’t your home. Spencer was, and you knew that he felt the same way about you. That was why he’d called.

“Any new symptoms? At around the seven month mark, you should expect to experience some shortness of breath, discomfort which may lead to difficulty moving, frequent urination, lightheadedness caused by the baby putting pressure on your blood vessels which can slow blood flow, fatigue-” He began to reel off pregnancy symptoms until he was cut off by your sleepy laugh.

“Spence, you’ve been gone for less than a day. You don’t have to worry about me. I feel the same as I did earlier.” You giggled.

“And that is?” He questioned. You could picture him furrowing his eyebrows, and the thought of it made your heart warm.

“Achey, tired, like a whale, hungry..” You listed, and you already knew he was going to give you advice on how to deal with your symptoms. He’d done more than enough research on pregnancy when JJ was first pregnant with Henry, and since then he’d unexpectedly found himself helping a woman give birth on a case.

“You need to rest. It’s late and that’s one of the only things that could help with your symptoms right now apart from physical activity, but I doubt you’d want to do any exercise at the moment,” He instructed, and you knew that he was being serious, even with his light tone. You’d think that you’d know more about pregnancy than Spencer, with you being mid-way through your second pregnancy, but he knew everything. Whilst anybody else might have been surprised by that, you weren’t. He’d done extensive research on the topic, after all, and he continued to. “And I can also guarantee you that you don’t look like a whale.” He added, and you could hear his smile in his voice.

“That’s what you think. I can hardly move, and when I do I waddle. I waddle, Spencer!” You pouted, and you could hear him laugh.

“Well I’m sure you look beautiful whilst you waddle.” He teased.

After a few quiet conversations between the two of you, 9pm turned to 11:30pm, and you could feel your mind wanting to drift off as your conversations slowly turned into Spencer spouting off random facts whilst you listened, his voice soothing you as though he was there with you. You decided to go back upstairs and tuck yourself into bed whilst he talked, placing your phone on the nightstand. He wasn’t really next to you, but it was close enough. You knew Lizzie wouldn’t wake up between Spencer’s soft words, the low volume your phone was on and her tendency to be a heavy sleeper. However, Spencer soon realised you were responding to him less and less.

“Sweetheart?” He said quietly, and you hummed in response, already drifting off. “Do you want me to hang up?” He asked, and your eyes snapped open. “No. Uh, I mean, I’d like it if you could just… stay on the line.” You said quietly, and he understood what you meant.

“Of course,” He responded, “Good night. I love you.” He said, and you said it back.

Soon enough, you fell asleep, and if he closed his eyes, he could picture you there next to him, your soft snores echoing around his hotel room. That was all he needed to relax, and Spencer soon found himself drifting off to sleep, feeling like he was at home. Feeling like he was with his home.

You brought him home.

[juletheghoul]

ache

a/n: another dope, unhinged request that sent me clean into the sun. I will have girl reciprocate in another chapter! Thanks so much for loving my version of Marcus, hopefully you like where this is going. This is un-beta'd, barely edited. All mistakes and errors are mine! Hope you enjoy what I came up with! (this is before the last chapter)

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, Marcus' pov, Marcus makes girlie squirt, *feelings*, master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus - let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 1.6k (😅)

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

----

He’d been away from his home for longer than he wished to be. Away from her. 

He’d been resigned to be gone for two days, three if he was being generous. That was the time he’d been prepared to spare. Those three days had stretched to three weeks.

An endless parade of niceties and feasts and courtesies extended. His presence was essential it seemed, and so he’d had to grit and bear it. He’d slept in those foreign beds and craved her warmth, her smell and her touch so much so that a rage filled him, a restlessness that only soured his mood more and more. 

Had he not put his foot down he might have been gone from his house for three months instead of three weeks. He’d fought wars quicker than this. 

Only when he was on his journey back home, back to her did the smile return to his face. Only waning when his journey had taken longer than expected, and by the time he’d finally stepped foot inside his house the moon was high, and she was sleeping peacefully in her bed. He’d watched her for a time from her doorway, almost willing her to sense him and wake. She didn’t, and he didn’t have the heart to disturb her, so he retreated back to his chambers and fell into a fitful sleep. 

Even in his dreams, she haunted him. He could smell her, feel the warm clutch of her cunt around his cock, hear her passion in his ear. He could taste her lips, could feel himself spilling inside her. 

He woke with a gasp, cock aching, heart racing and sweat beading on his brow. The moon was still bright, and the hour late, or early, he could not tell. The only thing he knew for certain was that if he didn’t go to her now, he’d die.

-

The heavy blanket of sleep shifts to gossamer, fine as silk. The dream, so clear just a moment ago slips away, forgotten as your room comes back into focus. A heavy weight presses beside you, a soft caress pulls you further into wakefulness. Too tired to be scared, you turn towards the feeling, the soft press of familiar lips at your shoulder and are both startled, and delighted to see your Dominus in bed with you. He’d been gone so long, you almost wept to be within his embrace once more. 

“Dominus, you’re home.” It’s not a question, more a sleepy, contented statement. 

“Yes, Girl, I am at last home.” You press closer, heart swelling that he would crawl into your bed with you. His passion so great, it pressed hot and hard against your belly. “I dreamt about you Girl, could not wait until morning.” His hands roamed, sweeping from your back down to grab at your ass, pulling you ever closer in the quiet dark of your chamber. 

“You dreamt about me Dominus?” You smiled into the warm skin of his neck, butterflies swarming in your belly at his confession.

“Yes Girl, I was hoping you would be awake when I got home, I wanted you so bad I ached but you were asleep and I couldn’t bring myself to wake you. I found no peace in sleep, even in my dreams I craved you.” His lips descend, soft and so welcome where they meet yours, his tongue insistent. “Did you miss me Girl?” He shifts, pushing you onto your back and fitting himself between your thighs. the heft of him makes your cunt turn to liquid. The absence of him these three long weeks had been difficult, so accustomed had you become to him taking you that feeling him now could have made you weep with joy. 

“Yes Dominus, I have been so empty without you, I have missed the feel of you here–” You reach down and grasp him in hand, delighting in the gasp he breathes into your face and guide him into your soaked cunt. “I missed you here Dominus, needed you here desperately. I have gone without your gift for so long.” 

His forehead is pressed to yours, your legs bent and high on his ribs while you both catch your breath. Your heart races as he adjusts and rests on his arms, bracketed around your skull. Your nipples harden against his chest as he presses soft kisses to your face, your cunt leaks when he starts to move, a slow, but heavy thrust. His cock is so stiff, so filling that it takes a moment for you to adjust, for that stretching burn to subside.

The moans slip out with every push and pull of his hips into yours and when you move your legs a little higher and tilt your hips he hits something divine. His cock pressing against an undiscovered, almost forbidden part of you with every roll of his hips. 

“Is that where you like it?” He keeps his stroke steady, hitting the spot he knows he’s found and you can barely form a thought, all you can focus on is the fullness, on the delicious feeling in your hips, in the deepest part of you. “Answer me Girl, did you miss me fucking you?” He doesn’t speed up, only thrusts harder. 

“Yes Dominus, yes, I missed it so much–” He moans and it heightens the pleasure building in your core, in the base of your spine. His tongue is obscene in your mouth, your hands clutch at him, moving from where they clawed at his back up to curl into his waves, gripping at him like talons. 

His pace picks up, faster, harder and the feeling grows, something heavy, something altogether too big building unlike anything you've ever felt before. Big enough to almost frighten you. You pull away from his kiss, frantic to warn him. 

“Dominus, wait–something–God’s above–” You moan out because he doesn’t stop, he only shifts cat-quick to push at the back of your thigh up towards your chest, opening you up wider and hitting at that same spot harder.

It’s so loud, the wet plunge of him into the cunt he owns, the cunt that weeps and gapes for him and him alone. Your heart races, sweat beads at your hairline and his, the sound of the bed rocking with his movements; all of it ignored and unimportant compared to the feeling.

“Dominus–” your eyes drift down to where he fucks into you, hands pressing at his chest as the crushing wave inside finally crests. 

Your body pushes him out with a wet gush and a scream. Your hands claw at him, your body bows almost on its own as you soak him in your climax. He doesn’t stop, instead he holds you down, his strength showing it’s face as he fucks you through the strongest climax of your life. 

“That’s it Girl, take it, take my cock, and my gift.” He groans it, filling you to the brim despite your inability to do anything but lay there under him, soul outside your body, and shake with the force of the pleasure he’d given you. 

He smiles as he cleans himself after, moving to you to wipe down the mess he’d made of your sex.

Your legs still shake. 

“I had heard rumours in my youth that if you were skilled enough, you could pleasure a woman enough to make her burst like a fountain.” He has a smugness about him as he presses the damp cloth to your skin. You are silent still, shocked at the way he’d made you feel, at what he’d made your body do. “You are the first to prove them right. Have you ever done that before, Girl? Has any other man ever made you do that?” 

“No Dominus, I have never felt anything like that before.” A shyness creeps in, a vulnerability you don’t know how to express. Your eyes cannot quite meet his and despite the pride you can see in him, he senses it. 

“Did you enjoy it? I do not want to chase that again if you did not enjoy it.” He tosses the rag back into your basin, and slips into your bed with you, gathering you into his arms. You are grateful to feel his warmth, to have the comfort of his embrace. 

“I did Dominus, I enjoyed it immensely, I am just–I–I,” You stutter, unsure how to explain how you feel and the curiously emotional response that amount of pleasure has borne in you. 

“What is it Girl, tell me. I wish to understand.” He pulls you into the crook of his neck, his hands rubbing at your back. 

“I do not know Dominus, It is strange. The pleasure was great, greater than any other time we have lain together but it is so much more. It is as though now I am tied to you, I cannot get close enough. If you leave me here now, in this bed I shall die without you.” A shyness creeps in and warms your face, an embarrassment at the intense need you have for him now. So much more than when you are aroused.

“I will not leave you, Girl. I would never leave you. I must confess, seeing how much you enjoyed that changed me as well.” He pulls your sheet up, tucking the both of you in for what is left of the night. “There is an intense pride in me now, that I could be the one to make you feel that good.”

“You always make me feel good, Dominus.” You press your lips to his neck, rubbing at his chest while you make yourself comfortable in his embrace. 

“As do you, Girl. I was a mess while away from this house, away from you.” You smile into his neck before moving up to press your lips to his. There is no more need for words after that, instead you both fall into an easy rhythm of soft kisses, and gentle sweeps of your palms. A reacquainting of yourselves with one another, as though it’s been years since your last meeting instead of less than a moon’s turn. 

In the safety of the dark, it was okay. The lines of your roles could be blurred, you could kiss him as often as you pleased, you could press yourself closer, and speak words of devotion without fear. You could ignore that this was a slaves bed and not his place.

When morning came, you would wake alone and serve once more, but here, in the dark; that could wait. 

-

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[buckyalpine]

Give me drunk Bucky who wakes up in your bed, confused over why he's in the softest pj's he's ever felt and for some reason wearing a giant fur coat he can only assume is from a pimp because who else would own such a thing.

What the hell happened

Mere hours earlier; 3:30 am, Guys night

"Noooooo" Bucky howled, letting his body go deadweight while Thor continued to carry him to his room, the only one strong enough to get the soldier off the floor after he'd polished the bottle of Asdargian mead clean. "Wanna see y/n"

"Yeah, can't imagine what y/n would say if she saw you being carried off like a princess" A very tipsy Sam and Steve followed behind while Bucky's bottom lip jutted out into an exaggerated pout, head thrown back with is eyes closed in defiance "She's still off on that mission, she'll be back soon, you can see her then-

Before Steve could finish, Bucky's eyes shot open, scrambling out of Thor's arms and stumbling towards your room. There was no time to stop him from entering, a drunk giggle slipping past his lips as he let himself in and sighed contently. By the time the three men reached, Bucky's shirt had already been discarded beside his socks.

"Oh no- Steve snorted at the sound of Bucky's belt bucky hitting the floor, his lip sticking out in concentration as he tried to work at the button of his jeans.

"Barnes, I swear if you take your pants off-Damn it" Sam huffed, a pair of black jeans landing on his head. "At least keep your boxers-Oh hell nah" He ducked before Bucky's intimates became aquainted with his face. "Don't you dare helicopter that third leg-he's doing it"

No one intervened as Bucky decided to make himself more comfortable, clearly missing you as he sighed, walking over to your closet. He was in there suspiciously long before emerging with-

"Buck, those are-

"Soft" Bucky hummed, coming out of your closet with a set of pj's you wore often, oversized so they'd be extra comfy. Bucky giggled at the smell of your soft scent, slipping the shirt over his head and putting the pants on, flopping on your bed like a cat. "Smells like y/n"

"Do we just leave him here"

"At least he's wearing pants" Steve sighed, frowning when he heard running footsteps approaching along with a chaotic cackling, who else would be still this active at this hour-

"There you guys are!! We're doing body shots off of- wait you're here. C'mon capsicle, take your shirt off-

"For fucks' sake Tony"

"Where the hell did you get that jacket" Sam's face scrunched when he notice Tony's shirt was missing however he was in a large coat which he'd thrown off, the pile of for landing on a half sleepy Bucky. Bucky's eye peeked open at all the fuss, wrapping himself up in the coat and blissfully falling asleep with his face in your pillow, the rest of the chaos mere white noise.

"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS-"

"TONY NO"

"TONY YES"

Present

"What do we have here" you coo, giggling at a very disoriented Bucky who blinks up at you with puppy eyes, a pink blush spreading on his face. You'd just returned from your mission with Nat, the entire compound still reeking of alcohol, the hallway littered with various still drunk Avenger men. The only thing that cut through the smell was the fresh breakfast a happy Thor had already started, the only one standing as if nothing had happened.

You'd stepped over a sleeping Sam and Steve in the hallway to get to your room, cocking a brow at the large mound of fur and soft snoring sleeping in your bed.

"Good morning, sweet boy" You brushed back Bucky's hair, bending down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, letting him take his time to figure out his surroundings, "have a fun night"

"Missed you" he mumbled, pulling you to lay on the bed so he could cuddle up with you, his head now resting on your chest instead. "Missed you so much"

"I missed you too, bub" You continued to gently play with his hair, happy your boyfriend got to have a night of fun and thankful that you always kept painkillers in your bedside drawer. Poor baby was going to need it. You noticed the pile of clothes that were thrown on the floor, they were definitely Bucky's but Bucky was in clothes so what was he wearing-

"Buck?"

"hm?" "Are those my pjs?"