#my mother will not be that way towards me but i can be that way towards myself. fuck her for making me feel worthless

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only, only one

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.5k | warnings: none

Summary: secrets threaten to swallow you whole as you work up the courage to tell Azriel about being his mate. Unfortunately, you aren’t the only one with secrets

Author’s note: this came from a draft I found BURIED okay I was looking for a different azris x reader draft but found this and had to finish it

Today was the day. Everything lined up - Feyre and Rhys were at the River House hosting an overnight play date for Nyx and one of his friends. Cassian and Nesta had taken some of the Valkyries to Day to see the pegasi. Mor was somewhere on the continent. Amren was likely at her apartment, but she came by less and less frequently these days.

The sun had just set, the night sky bright and endless as it hovered over the House of Wind. You and Azriel had the entire place to yourselves.

It was a sign from the Mother. You had to tell him. You stood before your mirror, wanting every piece of hair to fall perfectly into place. You took a few deep breaths, failing to calm the beating of your heart.

Everything was going to change. You smiled at your reflection, certain that everything will work out. It had to.

So what if Azriel had pined after two females that weren’t you? That didn’t matter. Not when he was always so kind to you, seeking you out during parties. He always sat next to you at dinner, the two of you fully engaged in conversation the entire time.

His pining toward Mor and then Elain always felt strange to you. It never happened around you, you hardly saw him even glance their way. You only knew about it from Cassian’s love of gossip.

“It should be you he focuses on - the two of you are so similar. And so annoying.”

His words likely meant nothing to him - especially the end when you had stolen food from his plate. But his words echoed in your mind, echoed around the string nearly suffocating your heart.

The two of you were well suited. You complemented each other. Surely, if he didn’t love you now, Azriel could grow to love you. It should be easy.

Would you want someone who had to grow to love you? You shook the thought from your head, certain the Mother wouldn’t lead you astray like that.

Your thoughts led you outside his door. The words had laid dormant on your tongue for too long, weeks going by without admitting the truth to him.

You knocked on his door quickly, not wanting nerves to get the better of you. You couldn’t help lightly bouncing on your feet as you waited, listening to the shuffles behind the door. Each sound of footfalls made your heart rate quicken.

Azriel poked his head out the door, a small smile when his eyes fell on you.

“Sorry to intrude, but can I come in? I want to talk to you about something.”

Surprise at your demand showed on his face, but he opened the door wider, letting you come in. The sight of you in his room wasn’t unheard of, but you had never so boldly asked to come in.

You walked through the threshold, noticing immediately a suitcase on his bed, nearly full before his shadows quickly closed and latched the lid.

“Are you going somewhere?” You couldn’t stop the question from coming out.

“I was going to take a few days to myself. Enjoy some quiet at my cabin.”

Your heart had been bursting with secrets lately. Months ago Azriel had confided in you he had a cabin somewhere he liked to hide away in when he needed to get away.

That tidbit of knowledge was secured deep in your fantasies, a story you told yourself before going to sleep about him whisking you away to his cabin.

“Oh - well, I hope I’m not interrupting your need for peace.”

“Nonsense. I find your presence quite peaceful, anyway.” Your heart was in your throat at his words. His casual admittance giving you just enough strength to be bold.

“That is very kind of you. I find your presence to also be peaceful and delightful.” He smiled down at you, his full attention on your words. That was always what drew you to Azriel the most. You have always had his full attention whenever you spoke to him, and he always recalled the smallest of details from your conversations.

He saw you. He noticed you. The Mother made him for you and you for him.

“Well, Azriel. We are friends, right? And friends tell each other things and are honest, right?” You wrung your hands with your fingers, needing something to expel your nervous energy.

“Yes. I am always honest with you.” His words came out with a slight chuckle, a tilt to his head, wondering where this was going.

“Great. I have actually been keeping something from you for a while. At first I had to take some time myself to understand, and then I was waiting for the right time.”

“Go on.” He looked radiant with the light of the moon cutting across his face. No male could compare to his beauty. His words of encouragement and his smile at your nervousness were all you needed for the words to come tumbling out.

“I am in love with you. I have been for a long time, and I kept it to myself, but a few weeks ago, the mating bond snapped and I-“

“A mating bond?” His words were sharper than you had ever heard him speak to you before. His shadows swirled around your feet, occasionally jumping and leaping to reach you, but never quite making it.

“Yes, it-“

“You’re certain?” His words were making you shrink ever so slightly. The shadows had now begun swirling around the two of you, like they were trapping the two of you into a bubble.

“Yes, it-“

“To me?”

You tugged hard on the bond, pulling as hard as you could to release him from the shocked stupor he was in. It knocked him off balance, his feet stuttering forward before he righted himself. His scarred hands rubbed absently at his chest, his brows knitted in confusion.

“Let me finish, Azriel.” The shadows that had been swirling around the two of you floated down, sweeping across the floor. A few moved toward you, swirling around your body, helping you stay upright.

He didn’t listen to your words, only shook his head in response. He dragged his fingers down his face, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out.

He looked once more at you before he reached out, his hands taking hold of your shoulders before the two of you were whisked through space in his shadows.

“Azriel!” You pushed off of him the second you felt solid ground beneath your feet, putting distance between the two of you. “This is not what I hoped-“

“Be quiet.”

Your eyes widened at his words, taking a moment to take in your surroundings. He winnowed the two of you right in front of a cabin door, the structure surrounded on all sides by thick forest.

“Okay Azriel, you could have just rejected me - not bring me to who knows where.” You ignored his command, irritation lacing your words.

“No, I just- wait here.” He shut the door quickly behind himself, leaving you alone. Your heart felt heavy as you looked about the woods, uncertain if you wanted to know what laid in the darkness.

Whatever scent lingered from beneath the door was familiar, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it. You were stuck - you could winnow home, you supposed. But why did he bring you out here? Would he leave you out here, wanting to know how long you’d stay and wait? Surely the bond would make him protective enough to let you die from the elements, right? The thought caused the string around your heart to play a sad, out of tune note.

You weren’t sure how long you were standing outside, a brisk breeze making you well aware of your lack of coat. The door opened once more, Azriel coming back out before he quickly shut the door behind himself, not letting you see inside.

“Az, what are we doing here?”

He held out a hand to you, his other back on the knob of the door.

“I have never brought anyone from the Inner Circle here.”

You grew frustrated at his words, a tiny hint of pride at being the first of your family to visit here. You accepted his hand, noting there really wasn’t any other decision you could make.

He opened the door and you took in the space. It was small - just the one room connected to a kitchen. It held a massive bed - somehow larger than the ones in Velaris. There wasn’t much in the way of decorations - the house was void of any indication of who lived in it. Your eyes stopped on the redheaded male who was moving about the kitchen, the sight of him short circuiting your brain.

“You said you’ve never brought anyone else here before.” Somehow amidst all the confusion, that was what your brain settled on.

“He said no one from the Inner Circle had been here. The door’s not as thick as you are, Azriel.” Eris’s voice was full of chastisement, clicking his tongue at the end to accent his point. You glanced between the pair, even more confused now that Eris had opened his mouth, the comment almost affectionate.

You shook your head, dismissing the thought. “Look, Az, I get it, this is something you don’t want-“ “Now I didn’t say-“ “so we can just go back to Velaris and I can move out.”

“What is she talking about?” Eris’s voice was loud to accomodate for the banging of pots and pans. He was cooking something, the cherry on top of ‘well, why not this too?’

You looked up at the ceiling, fighting back tears to what has quickly become the worst moment of your life. This was all so strange, you were certain you had hit your head somewhere, your body likely unconscious in Azriel’s room. Maybe none of this happened, and you fell on something in your room.

When you woke up, you were certainly never confessing to him.

“Tell him.” Azriel’s prodding words confused you even more. You looked at him in bewilderment. He had the same look on his face he does when he’s about to win a card game - no matter what move you make, he’s right in his assessment.

“Tell him? Azriel I think telling someone they’re your mate and them not wanting it is embarrassing enough, why do we have to drag in a spectator?”

His face fell slightly, something pooling in his eyes you couldn’t quite make out.

“Why do you think Azriel is your mate?”

You cocked your head at Eris, never having officially met him. You would recognize him anywhere - the long red hair, the ornate clothes decorated with autumn leaves, the scent of bonfire and whiskey stuck to him.

No one in the Inner Circle had ever told you how stunning he was, his beauty making other males look like mortals next to him. Except Azriel.

“I assume we can skip the pleasantries, Eris. Every facet of this night is more confusing than the last. Why are you cooking?”

“Because otherwise I will die of starvation. Or be even more intolerable due to hunger.”

You wished for a wall behind you to bang your head into. They may have omitted his beauty, but they weren’t wrong about him being difficult.

“Why are you in Azriel’s cabin?”

“I asked my question first.”

“Well, Eris, if you must know the inner workings of my personal life, Azriel is my mate and instead of being happy or even indifferent he brought me here to you for some reason. Can I go now?” The tears started forming in the corner of your eye, your fist clenched as you spoke.

“No,” they replied in unison, not looking at you. They both mirrored each other, their crossed arms not giving anything away as they silently argued, unsure when Azriel moved closer to Eris. You could make out a few words from the hushed tones, but it was impossible to hear them.

It took you a moment to realize Eris had stopped cooking when Azriel approached. He was giving him his full attention as they spoke to each other.

This was a very odd dream indeed.

“I’ve felt a pull to you.” Azriel was still looking at Eris, and you weren’t certain who he was talking to until he shifted his eyes to you. “I have always been drawn to you, needed to be near you. I didn’t want to think we were mates, because Eris is my mate.”

You blinked multiple times, the idea trying to make itself comprehensible to you. You looked around, certain to find some trace Rhysand had built this imaginary reality as a practical joke.

“No, that's not possible. If it’s not me, it had to be because of Elain or Mor.”

Eris scoffed, his annoyance clear across his face, his movements becoming more hurried as he added things to a pot. “Sorry to disappoint the both of you by not having breasts.”

“Eris.” An admonishing hiss from Azriel caused the Autumn heir to roll his eyes, not even looking at the glare the shadowsinger sent him.

“Forgive me. Forgive my mate for his deceits being so well done it fooled even his female mate.” Eris refused to pull his focus from his cooking, hardly acknowledging you with his body.

“Azriel and I have been together for some time, a rouse that is perpetuated by his supposed infatuation with the other females close to you.”

For some reason, his words stung. Azriel had been faking affection for them? If he could do that, why didn't he fake them for you?

As if reading your thoughts, Eris continued. “He was feeling something for you, something he hardly wanted to admit to me. But we have been looking into it. It seems no one has ever had this.”

“Had what?”

“Two mates.”

Your head was reeling, a migraine forming as you tried to process every bit of information you were given. Something gnawed at you - some insecurity making itself known in this odd circumstance.

“Were you getting close to me as an experiment?” That drew Azriel from his silence, his steps moving toward you.

“No - gods no. I like you, I like spending time with you. I’m drawn to you - I can’t help it.”

“He yearns.” Eris’s voice was flat as hid words came out, Azriel quickly spun on his heel and looked toward his mate.

His other mate, you supposed.

“I do not yearn.”

“You complain about missing her when you’re here.” Azriel’s cheeks heated in embarrassment, the first sense of affection you've felt from him since arriving.

Eris stopped stirring, turning his full attention toward you. His gaze left heat all across you, as if his eyes could penetrate your clothes, seeing your body and soul beneath. You can’t tell if he’s making the room warmer or if that’s just you.

“In the concept of honesty, I have to say you are… something.” His words broke you out of whatever stupor you had found yourself in.

“Thank you, Eris. That is the best non-descript compliment or insult I’ve ever received.”

“It’s not an insult.” You scoffed, uncertain how to respond. He straightened himself, standing tall as he continued. “Do you wish for me to wax poetic about my mate’s new mate? Divine, delectable, take your pick.”

Was he flirting with you? The notion made no sense, but something Azriel told you about Eris years ago had always stuck.

If you want to get anywhere with him, you have to play his game.

“My mate has a very pretty mate.” It was true and something Eris was more than aware of about himself. He scoffed, picking up a spoon and going back to cooking, but you continued. “Should I wax poetic about you, hm? Tell you all about how you look like a predator prepared to pounce and I’d be more than willing to be beneath you?”

Eris stopped his cooking, his spoonclattering as he took his time drinking you in.

“I thought you said she was timid and shy?” His question was directed at Azriel, but he kept looking at you. His gaze stayed on you, not wavering, seeing something he found interesting.

“That’s because Azriel runs at the potential for intimacy, I had to ease him into it.” Something close to a laugh escaped from Eris. His gaze finally moved toward the shadowsinger.

“I like her, Azriel. We can keep her.”

“I am not some toy to claim ownership to.” Eris paid you no mind, turning back to his cooking. You couldn’t figure out what he was making, but it smelled divine.

“Of course not, but you are my mate’s mate and that means I have to like you before making decisions about you.” Your heart stalled at his words, the air getting thinner around you.

“What do you mean by decisions?”

“Eris.” Azriel cut in for the first time in a while, and you would have forgotten about his presence if it hadn’t been for the bond humming.

“Well, I mean he is my mate already. He’s accepted the bond with me. If I didn’t like you, he’d just reject you.”

“He wouldn’t just-“ your words stopped, your statement unable to continue. Your throat went dry with the look Azriel gave Eris. It was a split second, but it was enough.

They clearly had discussed it - some topic they had mulled over several times, working through every scenario. Eris’s words were of such nonchalance, such subtle cruelty.

They would decide to shatter your heart without any thought or input from you.

It was getting hot, your clothes too much on your skin. Your breathing rose again, too shallow to fully take in a breath.

“So you’ve been- what? Keeping it a secret for months that Eris is your mate and that I’m your mate? Were you test running me this whole time?” Your voice came out squeaky, but you were too upset to care.

“No, I didn’t know-“ Azriel was scrambling, his eyes pleading with the truth. “I didn’t know, I was curious-“

“I mean, I knew you kept secrets, but this is- Eris and-“ your breaths were coming shorter and shorter, the cabin swaying slightly as it got harder to breathe. This couldn’t be real, it had to be some fictional reality. The bond in your chest was crying in agony, desperate for you to be closer to Azriel and to stop arguing.

“Azriel, she's self-destructing.” Eris didn’t move from his spot, continuing his cooking as if you had made an astute observation about the weather.

“I can see that.”

“Do something. She’s your mate.”

You pushed the hair from your face, straightening your shoulders. You blinked slowly, trying to clear your gaze. You had been a fool this whole time, that much was true. You were an experiment to Az - this whole time he had his suspicions, and you were nothing but a test subject he could drop at a moment’s notice. The collateral damage of your heart meant nothing to him.

He had Eris. Why would he want you?

“It’s clear now that you already have your hands full, Azriel. I’ll bow out respectfully.” The words came out cold, not a hint of the warmth you felt for Azriel laced them.

“Sweetheart-“

His shadows swirled around you, desperate to keep you close, to pull you closer to him. You batted them away, not wanting their comfort.

They knew. Azriel knew. Eris knew. This was all a joke to them.

“I’d be a fool to compete with Eris Vanserra over anything, including you Azriel. You’ve told me a hundred times how Autumn Court males sink their teeth into things and don’t let go.” Had his words been a warning? Had he been mated to him when he told you that? How far did these lies run? “Clearly you know from experience.”

You winnowed away, Azriel’s hand inches from where you stood. His shadows exploded, several moving around Eris, the Autumn heir batting them away with little effort.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Azriel directed all of his anger toward Eris.

“You were my mate first.”

“You practically pissed all over me, marking your territory. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut for me to speak!”

“Shall I hike up my leg? I thought such things didn’t interest you.”

Azriel breathed deeply, clenching and unclenching his fists to keep his anger in check.

“Besides, you wouldn’t speak. You clammed up.”

“We discussed this. You knew how important this was to me. This all went wrong.” Azriel was tugging at his hair, the bond swirling in his chest with your despair.

“Yes, yes. I know how my mate was quite taken with a female he lives with. Forgive me for not being thrilled.” Eris let the tiniest hint of hurt show on his face, his first display of emotion all night. Azriel spotted it immediately, his anger dissipating slightly.

“She might be your mate, too.” Azriel’s words were a whisper, a soft hope he was speaking into existence. The Mother wouldn’t give him two mates who hated each other, would she?

Eris gave a dismissive look Azriel’s way. “I suppose we’ll never know now.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Author’s note: any ideas for part two 👀

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @book-obsessed124

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin @magicstrengthandcourage @slytherintaco @userxs-blog @emryb

[rainbowsuitcase]

Ice is woken up way too early by insistent knocking on the door of his room. Wondering what could possibly have caught on fire before 0800 in the morning, he opens the door trying to blink sleep out of his eyes and freezes when he's met by a very angry looking Nick Bradshaw.

"I really didn't think you'd stoop that low," Goose scoffs at him.

Ice glances down at himself. He's wearing dark boxers with no embarrassing pattern and the old USNA shirt he sleeps in is a little worn out, sure, but also clean. He knows his hair is a mess but c'mon, he just woke up, whose wouldn't be?

He concludes that he has no idea what Goose is talking about. "Uhm, what?"

"Don't play stupid, Kazansky. You know what you did."

Oh. This is about something in the past.

Ice still has no idea what though. "I... have not had a hangover in quite some time, so yes, I can say I remember just about everything I did lately-"

Goose interrupts him with a hissed, "That's really all you have to say to me?"

"-and I have no idea which of those things could have possibly pissed you off this much."

"Fuck you too, Tom." Oh no, not the first name. "What did Mav ever actually do to you?"

Ice is just more and more confused by the second. Is he still asleep? Is that why nothing's making sense? Mav did... quite a lot to him just a couple days ago, but Ice sincerely doubts Goose actually wants to hear about any of that.

"Uhm- not much lately?" he tries slowly. "Which I guess is actually impressive now that I think about it?"

"I'm not fucking around, Tom," Goose growls, leaning forward to get in his face. "Why did you punch him?"

"I... punched him?" Is this a joke? It's way too early for this.

"I fucking saw the bruise," Goose doesn't sound like he's joking. "Mav's refusing to tell me anything. What the fuck did you do to him?"

Ice tries to take a deep breath but no, he's not lacking oxygen, his lungs feel fine, his head doesn't hurt and this isn't making any sense. "You saw... the bruise?"

"Tom, I swear to God I'm gonna give you a bruise if you don't stop repeating what I'm saying and start answering!"

"Okay!" Ice exclaims, lifting his hands palms up because threats from Mother Goose should never be taken lightly, even by a very confused recipient. "Okay, uhm... what bruise did you see?"

"The one on his hip!" Goose shouts and Ice realizes too late that that was the wrong thing to say. "Is there more than one? What the fuck, man?"

"I- the bruise on Mav's hip-" Ice winces. He can't exactly say he didn't put it there, but he's not sure that admitting it's not really a bruise is such a good idea either.

And thankfully, before he's forced to find out, there's shouting from down the hallway. "Goose!" And that's Maverick running toward them. "Goose, stop! Ice didn't hurt me!"

Goose politely gets out of Ice's face and huffs. "How'd you know I was here?"

Mav is breathing hard, grabbing at his chest - did he run the whole way here? And he's still wearing his sleeping shirt too, with a stain on the collar, though he's taken the time to put on actual pants at least.

Gasping for air, he still does his best to answer. "Well I- I woke up and you weren't there and... You got so pissed last night, it wasn't that hard to figure out. But I swear, Goose-" he straightens up and raises his voice, "-Ice didn't punch me!"

"You don't have to defend him just because we used to be friends." Well, that emphasis hurts. But Ice is sure- he's hoping that they'll be fine once this gets cleared up.

"You can still be friends!" Mav throws his hands up in a frantic gesture. "He didn't do anything to me I didn't want!"

Goose freezes on the spot, anger melting into confusion at record speed. "What?"

And because apparently, Ice before 0800 is in the business of digging graves, he clears his throat. "Yeah, I... didn't exactly make that bruise with my hands."

And because apparently, Mav is a little shit in any and every situation, he meets Goose's wide eyes with a grin. "The one on my thigh, though-"

"Nope!" Goose raises his hands. "No, shut up, I don't need to hear more! I..." he hesitates, looking back at Ice. "I am very sorry for waking you up, Ice. And for yelling at you... And I'm gonna give two some space now! Happy for you both!"

He backs away slowly, giving them two thumbs up until he turns around and sets out at a fast pace.

Ice looks down at Mav and sighs, "That went well. You couldn't have just told him?"

Mav's smile dims. "I didn't think he'd react that badly," he mumbles. "Just wanted to keep you to myself for a while."

That's so damn sweet.

And, well. Mav is here, looking all ruffled and soft from sleep, and there's no one else around.

Ice puts a hand on his shoulder. "You do have me for yourself, Mav." And then he leans down to kiss his boyfriend.

[muffinpink02]

Sandcastles

Summary - Mapi and Ingrid have Rudy for the weekend. Rudy learns not everyone is so nice.

WC - 5,954

Warnings - slightly suggestive, homophobic, swearing

“Are you excited, princess?” You smiled as you tied Rudy’s shoelace.

“Sí! When are they coming?” The four year old asked as she stared impatiently at the front door.

“Tieta Ingrid just texted me to tell me they’ve already left. So, they will be here soon.” You reassured her.

Rudy huffed out a deep sigh, a sigh so deep you'd think she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But to be fair to her, patience wasn't a trait she had mastered as a four year old just yet. Though she wasn’t the worst, she had more patience than her mother.

“Why don’t you go grab your football, you can take it with you.” 

“Yeah! I can play football at the park. Tieta Mapi will like that!”

You watched as the excited curly headed blonde jumped off the wooden bench in your hallway, running past her twin in an excited hurry and into her bedroom. 

“Where are they? They said they would be here for 11.” Alexia asked as she rounded the corner, stopping to put Rudy’s water bottle in her sleep over bag. 

You looked at your watch, it was only 10.37. 

The Putellas and patience was like water and oil. It just didn’t mix.

“Ale, it's not even 10.40 yet. They live a 2 minute walk away and Ingrid has already texted to tell me they've left. Calm your tits.” You chuckled to yourself.

But your chuckle quickly turned into a loud squeal that escaped your mouth as you suddenly felt yourself being lifted into the air, Alexia easily picking you up from behind. All while burying her head into your neck attacking your skin with heated kisses.

“Alexia!” You let out a loud cackle.

“My tits are calm, cariño.” She muttered into your skin.

“Hmm, seems like it.” You laughed as she finally put you down, but never letting you go. Her strong arms wrapped around your body, holding you from behind.

“I’m just a little excited.” She purred into your neck as she eyed you in the hallway mirror. “A weekend of just you and me.”

You melted into her familiar touch, allowing her to bring you closer. You couldn't deny that you were also excited. It had been a while since the two of you had a weekend just to yourselves and my god, you needed it.

Don’t get me wrong you loved being a mum, and so did Alexia. The day you brought that baby home your world had turned upside down in the best way possible. But as mothers you hardly got time to be with each other. If your time wasn't taken up by Rudy it was taken up by training, if it wasn't training it was school, if it wasn't school it was matches, if it wasn't matches it was house hold errands and so on. 

Don’t even get me started on your intimate times, they were becoming few and far between. You were sure cobwebs had started to build.

So, yeah you both needed a little break with each other, and Ingrid and Mapi were always the first in line when it came to having Rudy. 

“And what is it that you’re most excited for, Mrs Putellas?” You raised your eyebrow in question, but it was rhetorical. Just going by the way her hazel eyes stared at you, you knew what she was excited for and so were you. “Is it the time we’re going to get together? Catch up on house chores?” You teased her.

“Hmm.” She hummed, the deep rumble from her throat caused your eyes to flutter. “No, I’m excited to try that new toy-”

But before Alexia could finish that sentence and before your mind started picturing the visuals (the visuals you so desperately wanted to see)  the sound of small feet came running back down the hallway. 

Alexia was right, Ingrid and Mapi needed to get a move on.

“I have my ball.” Rudy beamed as she kicked her Barcelona ball towards you both. 

Alexia kissed your neck, watching you in the mirror. “Hmm, later then?” She said in a hush tone that only you could hear.

“Next 5 minutes, more like.” You corrected her.

“Deal.” She gave you one last kiss on your neck before letting you go, checking Rudy's sleepover bag once more.

Alexia turned her attention to Rudy who was busy playing with her football. She could already see her football classes coming in handy, not to be biased but she was really skilled for her age, but you guess having two Ballondior winners for mothers came in handy.

The older blonde smiled as she watched her daughter attempting keepie uppies. Something she had tried to teach her. 

“You got everything you need, princesà?” 

“Sí.” 

“Good. Now, let's go over the rules.” Alexia’s captain's voice suddenly made an appearance. “What do we not forget to say?”

“Please and thank you.”

“Good. And what do we not do?”

“Erm,..... erm,..... erm.” Rudy got distracted as she kicked at her ball.

“Rudy.” Alexia easily captured the ball with her own foot, flicking it effortlessly into her own hand.

You found yourself staring at your wife. God, she was hot when she was being the ‘strict’ parent. Okay, yeah, you really needed this weekend.

“What do we not do?” She repeated herself, her tone more serious.

“Run off and talk back.”

“Good. Remember to listen to Tieta Ingrid make sure you’re always by her side when you're outside, si?”

“ Sí.” The smaller blonde nodded. 

“And Tieta Mapi, Mama.” You reminded Alexia.

Alexia nodded slowly. “Sí, and Tieta Mapi.” She rolled her eyes. “Just make sure Ingrid always knows where you are.” 

“Alexia, that was one time. We found her in the end and Mapi felt so bad, she didn’t stop saying sorry for about three months.”

The blonde nearly broke her neck as she turned to you, her hazel eyes wide in horror. “Mapi only had to watch her for 2 minutes! And she couldn't even do that!”

You rolled your own eyes but you kind of agreed with Alexia. You loved Mapi but the girl was maybe sometimes a little… forgetful.

Your buzzer for your building door rang out, setting off a very excited four year old.

“They're here! They're here!” The girl jumped up and down, her curls bouncing with her.

Alexia grabbed Rudy’s jean jacket and helped her put it on.

You opened your apartment door to see Ingrid and Mapi walking down the hallway, smiles stretching on both of their faces. 

“Chicken!” The Norwegian called out.

“Chica!” Mapi shouted loudly as she began to run towards the squealing girl.

Rudy was engulfed in a tight loving hug as she also ran towards her aunties. 

“Aye! You’ve got so big! I thought I told you to stop growing?” Mapi said as she put Rudy down. 

“I can’t stop growing!” The blonde giggled loudly, her gappy teeth all on show as Mapi pocked at her stomach. 

“Hello chicken.” Ingrid knelt down to Rudy’s level as she was embraced by the tightest hug a 4 year old could muster.

“Hello girls.” You smiled with your arms open.

All four of you gave your hugs and said your hellos.

“Whats your plans for the weekend then?” Mapi asked, already grinning at whatever PG version of your plans you were going to give.

“House work-”

“Cinema-”

Even Ingrid had to laugh at your unrehearsed replies.

“Ahh, sí, sí, housework.” Mapi sarcastically replied, sending an overly exaggerated wink at the pair of you. “House work sounds fun. I just hope it destresses you, Ale. You’ve been extra tense at training.” Mapi laughed as she elbowed her girlfriend.

You watched as your wife's cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink, her mouth hung open to rebuttal but she was clearly getting flustered. 

“Cinema and house work sounds fun” Ingrid chimed in, saving the pair of you from the embarrassment while also giving Mapi the look. The defender promptly stopped laughing after that.

“Right, give us a cuddle, Rude’s. Be good for your aunties and have the best time.” You opened your arms open for your daughter who happily squeezed you tightly.

“Bye, bebita.” Alexia also received the tight cuddle from her twin. “Have fun.”

You watched the three walk down the hallway, but before shutting the door Mapi called out. “Have fun with the house work.” She cackled just before being dragged by the back of her neck and out the door.

—--------------------

Ingrid and Mapi held Rudy's hands as they swung her in the air. 

“You’re so high, you're nearly in the sky!” Mapi laughed as they swung Rudy one last time before entering the playground.

Rudy’s smile beamed as she looked around the busy and colourful playground. 

“What do you want to play on, chicken?” Ingrid asked as she stroked the little hand in hers.

“The jungle gym!” 

“Fun! I love the jungle gym! Let's go!”

The three came up to the jungle gym, the sound of excited laughter and children playing coming from every angle. 

“Come on then, chica!” Mapi shouted as she attempted to climb inside.

“Baby, I don’t think you can go inside.” Ingrid smiled sympathetically at her girlfriend.

“What? That's not fair I want to go in.” Mapi sukled. 

“You’re too big Tieta.” Rudy laughed as she started to climb the rope to get inside the play area.

“Lets play with Rudy from the outside, okay?” Ingrid smiled as she stroked Mapi’s back.

“Fine.” The fully grown woman grumbled, her head hanging as she followed Ingrid.

“We’re right here Rudy!” Ingrid called out as the four year old began to climb.

“Okay!” 

Rudy was then off on her adventure. She walked across the bouncy and roped bridge that hung high above the floor, while Mapi and Ingrid pretended to be monsters grabbing at her ankles. Laughing in hysterics when Mapi even pulled her shoe off. 

She climbed further inside, coming to a stop at a red wheel that was attached to the climbing frame. Her imagination took over as she began to sail her pirate ship through stormy waters. 

She climbed higher, crawling though a green caved tunnel, her ship abandoned as she was now exploring the tropical forest, running away from lions and tigers, better known as Ingrid and Mapi.

She was in her element, she loved the park, she loved playing pretend and making up her own little stories as she explored her surroundings. As an only child Rudy found it easy to play on her own, having been accustomed to being the only child in her family so far, besides from Mapi. 

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t a people person, having grown up with her lifestyle of having two mothers that were very well known within the sports world she had picked up people skills early. Having to attend football training before she could crawl, or even the odd awards ceremony before she could count to 10. She was a charismatic and kind girl, always looking for a new friend wherever she could.

And she found her next playmate next in line to go adventure down the slide.

“I like your shoes.” Rudy pointed at the blue glittery shoes of the girl in front of her.

A face full of freckles turned around to look at Rudy, then down to her shoes. A small smile crept on her face. 

“My mommy got them for me”

Rudy smiled back, her head nodding up and down approvingly. Her curls bouncing with her.

“I’m 4.” The girl stuck four fingers up, smiling at her own words.

“I’m 4 too!” Rudy’s hazel eyes widened in shock, amazed that someone else could possibly share the same age as her. 

“Do you want to play pirate?” The little girl asked, her big brown eyes reminded her of her auntie Ona. 

“Yeah! We have to make sure the sharks don’t eat us. There's loads below the ship!” 

Rudy clearly was already in character. Maybe she was more suited for the acting career. 

The girl’s eye widened in shock, also quick to get into character. “Quck, we need to get down this slide and we can get to our ship!” 

Rudy nodded with the most serious face, looking just like her mother before a game.

“Okay, let's go!” 

It was Rudy's now best friend's turn to go down the slide, having waited patiently like all the other kids. She grabbed hold of the rails to sit on her bottom until she was suddenly pushed right into Rudy, making them both tumble over.

“Hey!” Rudy shouted as she looked up to see an older and bigger boy pushing in front of everyone else. Clearly never having been taught manners. 

Alexia would have a field day with him.

“Girls, can’t play on the slide.” He declared.

Rudy couldn't believe her ears, that's not what her mummy and mama told her! “Yes they can!” Rudy shouted back, a small bit of anger rising in her voice.

The boy stuck out his tongue before sliding down the plastic slide. 

“Are you okay?” Rudy asked her friend who now had watery eyes. 

She nodded sadly. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Don’t listen to him. He's wrong, girls can do anything we want.” 

That brought a smile to her friend's freckled face. Both girls got back up, dramatically dusting off the dirt that sat on their clothes, finally taking their turn down the slide.

Ingrid and Mapi had sat on a bench nearby, the Norwegian looked over at the jungle gym where she saw Rudy emerge from the slide. 

“Rudy, come have some water.” She called out.

The little girl ran over with her best friend in tow.

“Hello, what's your name?” Ingrid smiled at the little stranger.

“Dotty.” She replied shyly. 

“My name’s Rudy.” Rudy explained as she took the water bottle from Mapi. “Gràcies.”

Both women shared a smile at each other. It was funny how as a child you could seemingly be friends and not even know the other's name. Though, I guess you could say it was the same when you were drunk in a night club toilet, making life long friends with strangers you would never see again. 

“A boy pushed us over.”

Mapi was up in a shot. “What? Where? Who? Show me him.” The defender scanned the play ground, ready to fight a child.

“Oh no! That's not nice, are you okay?.” Ingrid frowned as she pulled Mapi back down to sit on the bench.

“And he said girls can’t go down slides.” Dotty chimed in, giving even more drama to the story.

“Oh really? Maybe I should talk to him. Show him exactly what girls can do.” The defender jumped up once more, only to be pulled back down by Ingrid.

“I think you both should stay away from him. He doesn't sound very nice.” Ingrid tried to reason with girls, nodding at her own words. 

Both girls mirrored her movements, thankfully agreeing with the older woman, even if her supposed adult girlfriend beside her didn’t.

“Where do you want to play now?” The doe-eyed girl asked, having already forgotten about the incident.

“Hmm.” Rudy stuck her tongue out in thought. “The sand box.” 

“I love the sand box! Let's go.” Dotty grabbed Rudy's hand in hers, running to their next adventure. Leaving Ingrid to remind Mapi why fighting a child isn't socially acceptable.

“Do you want to build a sandcastle?” 

“Sí.”

The girls got busy building their sandcastle. Happily sharing the toys in the sand box and even helping the other when stuck with a tricky part of the structure.

“Is that your mama?” Dotty pointed over at Ingrid who was watching Rudy while also having her ear chewed off by her girlfriend yapping about the grass.

“No. She’s my Tieta Ingrid and she's my Tieta Mapi.” You smiled, waving back at Ingrid who noticed Rudy pointing.

“She looks like a princesà.” Dotty said as she stuck a leaf into the wonky but sturdy sandcastle. 

“Sí.” She agreed as she got back to work. “My mummy and mama are at home.”

“You have two mama’s?” Dotty looked up from her bucket.

“Sí.” The curly headed girl nodded, smiling at the thought of her mothers.

“That’s so cool! I wish I had two mama’s! I only have one.” Dotty pouted at the unfairness.

“They’re lesbins. So are my Tieta’s.” Rudy explained, though she wasn't completely sure on what she was explaining, she just knew that’s what her mums were and many other women around her. 

“Wow! I want to be a lesbin.” Dotty sat in thought, not having a clue what she was talking about. 

The girls got stuck further into the castle, actually managing to make a decent sized structure. Rudy almost didn't notice the new arrival in the box as she began to make a mot. 

The little boy had been quietly watching Rudy and Dotty build the castle from afar, slowly inching closer every few minutes, wanting to play but just being that bit too shy to ask. 

Rudy looked up to see the shy boy sitting on the side of the box. His curly hair reminded Rudy of her Tieta Vicky, his tight curls hair sitting beautifully just above his shoulders. 

“Do you want to play?” Rudy asked as she handed him a plastic shovel.

His little face lit up from being asked, he nodded and gently took the plastic from her hand.

“We’re making a river around the castle and then we’re going to put sharks and crocodiles inside so the bad guys can’t get us.” Dotty informed him of their masterplan.

The little boy smiled as he started to dig, loving the idea of all these animals protecting the castle.

“W-we should also put lions around it for more protection and they can have wings so they can fly and look for the baddies."

Rudy and Dotty looked at each other then back at the little boy. Eyes wide with excitement.

“Thats so cool!” 

“That’s the best idea ever!”

The little boy chuckled gently to himself, happy that his idea was clearly liked by his new friends.

All three got into digging the mot, happily playing in their own little bubble, sharing the odd joke only a 4 year old would find funny, and maybe Mapi. The girls had even found out in the midst of chatter that the little boy's name was Leo and low and behold he was also four! Of course Rudy was in utter shock. Another four year old? You just couldn't make this up. But soon to be five. That was very important to know. 

Leo stood up to unzip his jumper, getting hot in the summer sun.

Rudy nearly fell over when she noticed the t-shirt Leo was wearing. He was only sporting the Barcelona kit.

“My mummy and mama play for Barcelona! They were that kit!” Rudy shouted joyfully. 

Leo looked down at his top, pulling the fabric to see what Rudy was so excited about. But being only four and not completely in charge of his wardrobe (because apparently you can’t wear your spiderman costume to school) he wasn't at the age of really dressing himself he wasn't sure what the clothing really meant, he knew it was something to do with football but that was about it.

“Do you play Barcelona?” Like I said, he wasn't up to date with the rules  and regulations of the sport.

“Not yet, but when I’m bigger I will..” Rudy beamed confidently.

“I’ll be Barcelona when I'm bigger too.” Dotty nodded, more than happy to jump on the career wagon.

“Me too!” Leo giggled, excited to be part of something that clearly seemed to be the coolest thing ever. 

Leo began to talk about his upcoming birthday party and had even invited the girls, though he wasn't sure on the date or time or address, but he was certain his mummy would know, and that was enough for the girls. 

It was all going well, all three kids were chatting happily until an uninvited guest appeared.

“Why are you playing with girls? They’re not fun to play with.” The boy sniggered, kicking sand towards the group.

Dotty’s wide eyes looked up at the bigger boy, the very same boy who had meanly pushed her and Rudy over earlier.

Rudy kept quiet, not wanting to give the boy any form of interaction, just like Tieta Ingrid said to do. But Leo hadn't had the pleasure of meeting the bigger boy just yet, so he didn't catch on that this kid was bad vibes and basically unwanted company.

Leo looked at the boy then back at Rudy and Dotty, he couldn't understand the issue, they were his friends and he was having fun with them.

“They’re m-my friends.” Leo’s soft voice was just about audible.

“Well, you should play with us. We’re going to play football. You can be on the Barcelona team.” He pulled roughly at Leo’s shirt, clearly knowing the kit. 

“Can my friends play too?” Leo asked, voice timid.

“No. Girls can’t play football.” The bully scoffed.

No, way was Rudy going to let that slide.

“Yes they can! My mummy and mama play football, they play for Barcelona!” Rudy stood up, her patience was starting to run out with this boy. And we all know the Putellas don’t have much patience.

“You’re so stupid, you can’t have two mums, dumb brain!”

Dotty wasn't having that. “Yes you can! Rudy has two mamas!” She bit back.

“No you don’t and they don’t play football.” The boy’s foot came close to the sand castle.

“Yes they do!” Dotty now stood up on her feet, ready to scrap for her life long best friend of 40 minutes.

“No they don’t! You’re a liar! Girls are stupid and can’t play football! You’re so dumb!” The boy’s face was turning a shade of pink, his anger getting the best of him. 

“No! You’re dumb and you have dumb poo brains!” Rudy shouted loudly.

She knew her mums wouldn't be happy with her language right now, but nobody gets to diss her mums, especially this horrible and very obnoxious little boy.

Dotty began to laugh immediately, throwing her head back like it was the funniest thing she had ever heard anyone say.

I guess at 4 years old it was the ultimate diss to bring to the playground. 

All three kids watched as the older boy’s face went from pink to red like a human chameleon, the embarrassment from Rudy’s words clearly hitting a nerve. 

“No! You don’t even have a brain!” 

But his words fell on deaf ears as Dotty’s laugh got obnoxiously louder.

And then the boy's temper boiled over like a volcano. He began to kick the side of the castle, making it crumble to the ground.

“Stop! Stop it!” Rudy shouted, her little fist balled up at her sides.

The bigger boy only ignored her and completely smashed the once impressive structure to the ground, laughing wickedly as he did it. 

“You’re a bully and nobody wants to play with you!” Rudy shouted as she watched all their hard work being squashed under the foot of a spoilt little boy.

“Shut up!” The boy screamed so loudly the rest of the playground turned to see the commotion. 

The bully then lurched at Rudy pushing her hard into the sand, quickly raising his chubby little fist in the air.

Rudy closed her eyes, her hands coming up to protect her face instinctively.

The boy brought his fist down hard, just in time to be caught by a bigger hand.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mapi’s tone was hard.

Rudy felt herself being lifted up into the air. “It’s okay. You’re okay.” Ingrid's words calmed her down instantly. 

Rudy only nodded, her hazel eyes were on her auntie Mapi.

“Why do you think you can go around pushing people who are smaller than you? Matter of fact, why do you think you can go around pushing anyone?” 

Rudy had never seen her Tieta Mapi like this before, she instantly felt like it was her fault that she was so angry.

The boy suddenly didn't have anything to say. He looked down at his feet, his lip began to wobble, clearly he had never had a telling off before. Even though Mapi wanted to go off on the boy she didn't want to make him cry or cause a scene. She let out a deep breath. 

“Leave these kids alone. They don’t want to play with you.” She rolled her eyes as she shooed the boy away. 

Ingrid felt Rudy go rigid in her arms. She stroked the girl's loose curls behind her ears and rubbed her back soothingly.

“Do you want to sit with us for a little bit or play with your friends?” Ingrid spoke softly. 

“Sit with you a little bit.” Rudy whispered, a small pout poking from her lip, even Ingrid recognised that pout from the older Putellas.

“Okay.” Ingrid looked over at the two other kids who were still in the sandbox. “Rudys just going to sit with us for a few minutes, she'll be back soon.”

Dotty nodded, she leaned into Leo and whispered. “I think that one’s a princesà.”

“Wow.” The little boy looked over in wonder.

Mapi followed Ingrid to the bench, the four year old watched Mapi from Ingrid's arms, her usual happy self was nowhere to be seen and Rudy felt a weird feeling from it. Her tummy knotted up with worry. She was scared that she had been bad, maybe so bad that she wouldn't be able to stay with her aunties because they didn’t like her anymore.

Ingrid sat down with Rudy in her lap, keeping her close to her chest. “Do you want some water, cariño? Maybe a snack?”

Rudy shook her head, her hazel eyes misting over. Her little brain was going through so many different emotions. Mapi frowned at seeing how quiet the usually chatty four year old was. She worried the interaction had shaken her up more than she realised, but before Mapi had a chance to ask Rudy anything, a woman began to walk over with an angry step. 

“Who do you think you are? Shouting at my son!” The woman raised her voice loudly.

Mapi scoffed. “No one shouted at your son and just so know he was about to hit my god-”

“Oh yeah, that's right. He said it was the one with two mothers. It's disgusting that you homo’s think you can just throw your sexuality anywhere you go, now you bring it to a park full of children. It's filth. And forcing a child into your sick lifestyle? You should be ashamed of yourselves.” The woman spat out, screaming at this point.

Mapi felt her chest tighten, the words didn't hurt her, she was more worried about Rudy and what this meant for her. She took a deep breath, ready to argue.

“You-” 

“Hold Rudy please, sweetie.”

Mapi was cut off as she took Rudy from Ingrid, watching confused as her girlfriend stood up calmly from the bench.

Ingrid smiled all too sweetly before she cleared her throat. “I have had to watch your brat son bully most of the children in this playground. He has pushed, pulled and was even a second away from punching my god daughter in the face, after already pushing her for the second time. This is the first and only time I've seen you bother to step in, and that's only because you don’t like that your child has actually been told off for maybe the first time in his life.”

Mapi and Rudy hugged a little tighter as they watched the normally calm Norwegian continue to tear this woman a new arsehole 

“You think you can come over here and have the nerve to tell us anything about our "lifestyle" when you can’t even control your child? Don’t make me laugh. Why don’t you and your son worry about your own selves? You clearly have no manners and neither does he. So, I suggest you take yourselves away, have a good look in the mirror and maybe find some decorum. Because frankly you should be the one ashamed of yourself.” 

The woman couldn't believe her ears, she looked around the playground at the other parents hoping to get some kind of backup, but nobody came.

Ingrid’s sweet smile stayed on her face as she watched the woman's face turn red in embarrassment, just like her devil child.

“You- you… ergh!” She stammered before grabbing her son's hand and leaving in an embarrassed huff.

Ingrid watched the woman walk off, catching a few thumbs up from the other parents that also shared her thoughts. She let out a sigh before turning around, the anger that had just been at her forefront melted instantly at the sight of Mapi and Rudy clinging on to each other like kola bears.

Mapi stared at her girlfriend in complete shock, but also adoration, she had never seen that kind of side to her before.

“You okay, baby?” Mapi asked Ingrid.

“Yeah. People are just so ignorant.” She shook her head as she stroked Rudy’s hair.

“Are you angry at me?” Rudy's small voice squeaked out.

Both of the women looked at each other then back at the little girl, clearly shocked at the question. 

“No, Rudy! We aren't angry at you!” Mapi hugged the little girl tighter. “We were upset that the little boy pushed you. I didn’t like seeing you getting hurt.” 

Rudy looked up at Mapi’s soft brown eyes, she nodded her head, grateful to understand the anger wasn’t directed at her.

Ingrid sat down next to them. “You could never make us angry, Rudy. We love you so much.” She smiled kindly at the little girl.

“Unless you became a Real Madrid supporter,” Mapi joked as she pocked Rudy’s stomach, making the girl laugh loudly. All her worries completely vanishing.

“That woman was angry.” Rudy declared.

“Well, she said some very mean things and Ingrid just had to remind her that you can’t go around bullying people.” Mapi smiled as she stroked Rudy’s cheek.

“He said girls can't play football, it made me angry because they can! You and my mummies play football!” The little girl frowned, confused why someone would think otherwise.

“Sadly, not everyone thinks like you, sweetie. Some people don’t agree that women should play football. But a lot of people do! You see them at the matches don’t you?” 

Rudy slowly nodded her head, trying to take in the information. Ingrid could see the cogs turning in her head, she didn't want to overwhelm the girl with too much negative information. The blonde girl looked over at her friends that had stuck up for her, they didn’t think that way. It was a surprise to hear people would be so mean. Her four year old brain was still learning so much about the world.

Ingrid followed her eyes.

“Do you want to play with your friends for a little bit then we’ll head back to our place?” Mapi asked as she dusted some sand off of Rudy’s back.

“Sí.” Rudy nodded.

Ingrid smiled as she gave both Rudy and Mapi a kiss on the forehead.

Rudy spent another twenty minutes with her friends before Leo had to say bye. Promising the others that they would see each other when playing for Barcelona in the future. 

“Ready, Rudy?” Ingrid smiled as her and Mapi approached the sand box.

“Sí. Bye Dotty.” 

“Bye Rudy. Bye Rudy’s tietes. I’m going to be a lesbin too, just like you.”

Ingrid and Mapi’s eyes widened in shock. Both of their mouths were gapping like a pair of fish, neither knowing what to reply to the little girl. 

“Did she just say?-”

“Sí. We can leave that with Alexia and y/n.” Mapi whispered next to Ingrid as she waved at the little girl that also reminded them of their teammate.

The three made their way out of the park, Ingrid spotting an ice cream van.

“Shall we get ice cream?”

“Yayy! Ice cream!” Mapi and Rudy shouted in sync. 

They queued up in line in front of the ice cream van, Mapi’s and Ingrid hand protectively and lovingly wrapped in Rudy's own hands.

“What flavour would you like, chicken?” Ingrid already knew the answer but still wanted to ask. Just in case. 

“Strawberry, please.”

“Chocolate for me please.” Mapi beamed as she looked over the menu. “And extra chocolate sauce.”

Once everyone put their orders in and everything was paid for, the three happily walked through the park, eating their ice creams. Ingrid only had to wipe chocolate off of Mapi’s cheek twice and Rudy once. 

The 4 year old softly kicked her ball as she walked just a few steps in front of the couple. 

“So, that was hot.” Mapi smirked. 

“What was?” Ingrid raised an eyebrow in question. 

“The way you told that awful woman off! My cute and sexy girlfriend being all protective. I loved it.” Mapi softly bumped her shoulder into Ingrid. 

The raven haired girl chuckled, becoming a little shy.

“Do you think it’s the hormones?” Mapi asked as she looked back over at Rudy, completely unaware of the conversation. 

“Yeah, I think so. I think even seeing Rudy getting bullied like that was awful. It made me so angry. And that bitch of a woman…” Ingrid paused to make sure Rudy hadn’t heard her. “...She made me so angry.”

Mapi nodded, taking Ingrid’s hand in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing her skin gently. 

“She was awful. I’m glad you told her off. She looked like a deer in headlights.” Mapi laughed thinking of the memory. 

“When do you want to tell Ale and y/n?” 

Ingrid hummed in thought. “Maybe next month? I guess I’ll start to show soon.” Ingrid smiled as she touched her stomach. 

“I can’t wait to tell them!” Mapi’s smile was from ear to ear. 

“Me too. I also can’t wait to tell this little one. She’ll be so excited.” 

The three did a lap round the park, even stopping to play some football. Just as they came to their exit Mapi noticed the bully boy to her right, stuffing his mouth with a cone ful of ice cream. 

“Hey, Rudy, kick your ball over here.” Mapi pointed at her feet.

The girl was more than happy to do just that, unaware what was about to unfold.

The blonde gently kicked the ball at Mapis’ feet. The older woman looked at her target once more before launching the ball perfectly at the ice cream cone, causing the desert to fly right out of the boy's hand and into the muddy floor.

“Ops sorry!” Mapi faked an apology as she retrieved the ball, she couldn’t stop the smile on her face once she heard the boy start to cry loudly behind her. 

She caught up with Ingrid and Rudy. The raven haired girl shook her head, trying her best to hide the smile on her face, but Mapi could see right through it. “Maria.” She chuckled.

“What? I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” The older woman laughed as she picked Rudy up and placed her on her shoulders.

Rudy squealed loudly as Mapi began to run.

“Faster, tieta Mapi! Faster!” 

Ingrid shook her head, smiling as she watched the pair laughing together. 

“You’re going to have the most crazy mama, but you’re going to be so loved.” She whispered as she stroked her stomach.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: here we areeee, I was very excited to do this chapter since we can get into what kinda powers (name) has ^^ omg first kisses?!?!? I hope y’all don’t mind the change.

⟣・S2・FINALLY GOT THE NAME RIGHT︰

THE MAN IN FRONT of you sneezes, you handed him one of your extra masks and looked around with curiosity— you knew not to wander off far since caitlyn was focused on finding jinx. Though you knew exactly why she wanted to find her, she was starting to act a little different towards both you and vi— which was…understandable of her since her mother had died but it wasn’t a good change, though.

“Thanks.” The man tells you thankfully. “I thought I was a goner.”

“You’re smeech’s man.” Vi spoke.

“Was.” The man corrects. “I--“ he sneezes again, covering his mouth. “Oh. I decided it was time for me to retire.”

“Looks more like someone decided to retire you.” Caitlyn retorts.

The man chuckles. “Yeah, well, timing was never my strong--“ he sneezes again. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s…it’s the grey. It gives me the--“ he sneezes again.

Caitlyn stepped forward threateningly. “Tell us how you wound up here.” she demanded, aiming her gun at him.

“Hey, wait, wait.” Heenot pleads. “Jinx is off the rails, even for her. She’s got a real fire lit up under her ass. she’s planning something big, right here in the pipe works.”

You moved the gun away from the man carefully, eyeing caitlyn with slight surprise.

“It is a pretty big place down here to do that.” You added.

Heenot grunts. “She was headed towards the old tunnels. Something about rerouting the vents.”

Caitlyn moved her finger away from the trigger, her face upturned into a scowl. “this is it, then. Cuff him.”

“Hey! I told you everything I know.” Heenot protests.

“You’re a confessed criminal. You’ll spend your retirement in a cell.” Caitlyn tells him, cocking her gun and tilting her head. “Check your gear. This is what we’ve trained for.”

Vi sighs, slowly walking near caitlyn, “can I get a minute? with you?” she asks you.

Caitlyn slowly turns around, seeing you and vi standing there with unsure looks. Avoiding caitlyn’s gaze you nodded and followed vi.

YOU SET YOUR WEAPON aside as you leaned against the railing inside the tunnel, tucking some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear as you gazed at a saddened but determined vi, her head lowered as she shifted her feet.

“We should cut the others loose.” Vi tells you, her eyes landing on yours as she sees you gasp quietly before speaking.

“Listen..if that heenot man is telling the truth, we may need all the help we can get, vi.” You whisper to her softly, only loud enough for her to hear.

Vi shakes her head. “She’ll smell their nerves a mile away and find a way to use them against us.” she informs you, “tell me I’m wrong.”

You were think about it, blinking a few times. maybe she was right— and she was. jinx probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, and as many times as vi told you to stay away from the blue haired girl it was like you would get caught in the crossfire every time.

“You know cait,” You spoke. “She won’t let jinx get away again without a doubt. she’s dead set on getting her. are you sure you’re even ready to--?”

Vi interrupts you. “(Name) she almost killed you. and it’s like everyone I care about either ends up dying or changing-- I can’t let that happen. my sister is gone. there’s only jinx now. It has to end.”

You knew this was hurting her, having to do this. but it was only now or later— because ending it all later would be too late.

Vi looks at your bandaged arm, “I am so sorry about your arm. I’m sorry I can’t fix it-- but please just…everyone in my life has changed. promise me you won’t change, you or caitlyn.”

Tears escape and cascade down her eyes as a gentle sob racked her throat.

Walking towards her you reached out your hand and cupped her cheek, going onto your tippy toes to kiss the tear away. Vi took a glance down at your lips before she began to lean in, you doing the same.

Vi fully leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, your lips molding against hers in a perfect melody. Vi then feels you pull away, your (e/c) eyes looking into hers again.

“I promise.” You whisper softly, nuzzling your nose against hers. “I won’t.”

Vi drops her gauntlets and suddenly her hands are wrapping around the small of your waist as she lifts you up into her arms with ease, her hands finding their way to your ass as she gives it a gentle squeeze, the kiss deepening from there as the two of you continued kissing.

This felt nice.

When vi pulls away, she sets you down. “Not bad for your first kiss, huh?”

“Hey! you did it first! I just finished it.” You winked before your watch started beeping, “huh…Jayce wants me to meet up with him. can you and cait do this alone?” you ask.

Vi nods in reply. “Yeah, yeah. I’d rather you be somewhere safe other than here.”

HEADING INSIDE JAYCE’S office, you see a younger male sitting with him, making you tilt your head in curiosity, “this is ekko?” You asked with a warm smile. Ekko seemed unsure whether to trust you but the smile made him ease a bit.

“What’s the topic?” You asked while sitting down, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned your cheek against your palm.

“Hextech.” Jayce replies. “Viktor hypothesized that there may be something he called ‘wild runes’. patterns that occur naturally where the border between our world and the arcane is thin.”

“Runes like the ones you use in hextech.” Ekko replies, leaning his head against his hand. “What’s the difference between those and wild runes?”

“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells him.

Ekko slides the book over to him.

“So I used words you understood in order to elicit your action.” Jayce explains. “This is what hextech runs are.”

“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells you this time.

You grabbed the book and handed it to him.

“Pass me a tome.” He says once more.

You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the book his way.

“There! you sighed. still a kind of language.” Jayce says. “A sound, but not words. something raw. natural. that’s wild runes. most places, the arcane is dormant, but here and there, it’s more active. and wild runes are--“

“Sort of like its fingerprints.” Ekko finishes.

“Exactly.” Jayce nods in agreement.

Your brows furrowed. “Wait wait-- you mean to tell me you-- by using so much of the hextech you’re basically pissing off the arcane?”

“That’s-- that’s not what I--“ Jayce stammered as he avoided your gaze.

“Ooh, she may be onto something. every action sparks a reaction.” Heimerdinger says, accidentally dropping something on the ground. “Oh, ball sockets.”

Ekko chuckles when he sees this.

“Do you think this could actually be a result of overuse of hextech?” Jayce asks you, maybe it was true…using way too much hextech always made you wonder what would happen.

“That’s the only reason.” You answer, leaning back in your seat as you pondered the idea of what could happen. “I mean..I don’t use it, but if I did I probably would overuse it and not even know. everything has its limits.”

“We tested our hextech under every conceivable condition for years.” Jayce says. “If there’s some reaction taking place, how come we’ve never seen any sign of it until now? and why would it appear on a tree, deep underground?”

You and Jayce share a look.

“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” YOU ASKED with curiosity as you sat down your bag, walking next to heimerdinger who looked around.

“I thought the gemstone mesh was installed above ground.” Ekko says.

“Me too..” you added with narrowed eyes.

“The mesh is above ground, but we weren’t sure what would happen if the gate overloaded, so we installed a failsafe at the base.” Jayce explains, you crossed your arms over your chest, still unsure about the whole thing.

“So instead of it exploding in your neighborhood, it would blow up in ours.” Ekko retorts.

Jayce turns to him. “We’re miles from the main fissures.”

“These are the same utility ducts that carry our water,” Ekko tells him. “And facilitate our ventilation. and that would explain it affecting the tree.”

“Inconceivable.” You hear heimerdinger say.

“That..that doesn’t explain--“ You paused, wondering if becoming an enforcer was really what you wanted in the first place.

“You know, you say we should feel like we’re all one people.” Ekko continues. “But whenever it rains, we’re the ones that get wet--“

His voice echoed as the scenery in the room changed to something completely different, you blinked a few times, eyes landing on what was in front of you.

“What the…” Jayce trails off confusedly, looking around himself.

The entire room was white, dull, like it was full of nothing.

“Is that..a wild rune?” Ekko questioned, your gazed landed on the wild rune in front of you.

“I have no idea what that is.” Jayce added.

All four of you stood in front of whatever the glowing ball was in front of you, you stepped back, eyes widening a bit. “No way.”

Weirdly enough the rune starts affecting your hair, the edge of the strands beginning to change colors. Jayce reaches forward begins to touch it.

“Ow!” You flinched away from the rune, whatever you just felt rush into your skin made it hurt a thousand times worse than your hair.

“Jayce, stop touching it!” You shouted at him.

But Jayce doesn’t hear you.

The world felt like it was spinning before you turned towards him, a chill runs down your spine as your bottom lip trembled. “Hello..?”

You felt yourself collapse, the air in your lungs beginning to fade. Jayce touches the rune, you clutched your head, starting to hear whispers from every side of you. “Stop, stop, stop!”

Whatever you were hearing didn’t want to stop, it’s like they enjoyed antagonizing you.

The world around you was starting to look different.

“Ekko! Jayce!” You shout again. “Anyone?!”

Silence.

Something blasts you in your chest, knocking you back as blood falls down your nose.

Then it fades to black.

END OF CHAPTER THREE

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

A/N: This isn't my usual content, but I was thinking about this scenario and I had huge baby fever so I couldn't NOT write it. I love Sae too much y'all. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes english ain't my first language.

Warnings: Mentions of death and grieving, Sae tries forcing his daughter to either eat her vegetables or go to school hungry (he doesn't go through with it)(this is a very brief scene but it could still be triggering to some people). STILL MOSTLY FLUFF I SWEAR.

Contents: Sae being a girl dad fr, y'all can't change my mind on this one, also Rin being an uncle. That's pretty much it. A little ooc (Rin mostly)

"Papaaaa" Mao complained, her voice echoing across the house and making Sae drop the dishes he was washing and walk across the house into her room to see what was going on... this time. Although he had a pretty good idea given her recent tantrums.

"Can't sleep?" he inquired, but he knew the answer as soon as she saw her curling up in her little bed and pouting, her doe teal eyes looking up to him as if to give him pity. "No, Mao, you cannot come sleep in my room."

"Why not?!"

"You've already been sleeping there all week... come on, you're a big girl, you can sleep on your own room."

"But I wanna be with you..." he sighed. It had seemed she had inherited his stubbornness, because sometimes it felt like there was just no way of making her change her mind when she was set on something. He leaned against the door a little, thinking about what to say that may change her mind.

"I know I was away for a while the last couple of weeks and I understand you missed me, but I can't have this conversation with you every single night."

"Why do you go away in the first place..."

"You know why, I have to for work." he countered, "And do not ask me why I can't bring you along, we've talked about this countless of times before. I don't go away for fun. If I bring you with me, you'll want to go everywhere with me and then you'll get fussy and mad because I'll be working all the time, or worse, you'll get bored to death in the hotel. Believe me, staying here is best for you when I go on business trips."

"But I just wanna be with you!!" his eye almost twitched in annoyance at the sight; he knew that tone of voice all too well. It was another tantrum coming his way, but still, he tried to remain calm for her sake.

"You're with me now."

"So can I sleep in your room?"

"No." then she threatened to start crying. He let out a low, defeated huff, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. She just wasn't giving up, was she? Pushing himself off the doorframe, he looked back at her before speaking. "Fine. Come on."

"This is the last time." he knew damn well that was a fat lie, but he still had to at least pretend to be firm. She would grow up to be a spoiled child otherwise, or at least that's what he was used to tell himself.

The little girl beamed, quickly jumping out of bed and running towards her father. She hopped with her arms up towards him asking to be carried, to which he complied. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and lifted her up, watching as she clung onto him as if he just came back from war or something. Could he really blame her, though? She had lost her mother and he was away all the time; it would be strange if she wasn't feeling lonely.

"Papa, sing me a song." Sae reconsidered his life decisions for a moment there, not gonna lie, but how could he honestly say no to those pleading eyes?

"Fine..." he sighed, his voice soft and low as he began humming whatever song he could think of on the top of his head. Still keeping a secure hold on her, Sae began rocking his daughter to further lure her to sleep. He held her with one arm so that he could close the door of her room, the soft click assuring him that everything was in order, and then started walking a few steps towards his.

By this point, little Mao was sound asleep on his arms, and he almost chuckled at the thought of his daughter refusing to sleep until she was with him. He carefully opened the door a few meters away and walked quitely to the bed, trying his best to not wake up the sleeping child on his arms, and set her down to rest. Once tucked in and comfortable, he let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the brat was asleep and he could be at peace. She could be so clingly and energetic sometimes... not that he cared that much, even though her restlessness was exhausting, it showed that she felt safe and loved enough to be her enthusiastic self around him without any regrets.

It was weird to him, like an unfamiliar sense of pride that surged at the sight of her young daughter bouncing around and playing endlessly. He would often look at her and think about how different her personality was from his, and how much it reminded him of her mother. Sae tried not to though, as he despised comparing his daughter to his late wife over and over again, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. From the way she smiled to the color of her hair... they were just so alike each other. He still kept all the memories from her close to his heart, which in a way made him feel guilty. Sae knew just how much his daughter yearned for a maternal figure; someone to talk to and educate her about girly stuff that he may not understand. He would watch her staring at the other kids with their moms and act like it really wasn't a big deal to avoid making him feel like he wasn't enough, but Sae knew better. It was obvious to him that his daughter absolutely adored him, and he was sure she thought he was enough, but he also knew that she missed having a mom. She missed her mom. He missed her mom too.

Normally he would avoid talking about it. It had been hard enough trying to explain to this small child that her mom wasn't coming home that night, or ever, let alone process his own grief at the loss of the only woman he once loved. If he cried, he had to do it when his daughter wasn't looking, because the last thing he needed to add to his worries was worrying his daughter to the point of avoiding everything that may set off a bad mood on him. It wasn't her fault, he just felt his heart break everytime he took her home and she pointed at a framed picture of her mom exclaiming 'Mama!' Or 'Hey mama', 'I'm back, mama', 'Miss you, mama'. He would hold back his tears and take a deep breath whenever she tried asking if she could visit her mom in the place she was at (as he initially had told her it was a place where she couldn't come back), having to explain carefully that she couldn't. She would get mad and ask why a bunch of times, but he didn't have the heart to tell her 'She's dead' straight up. He really tried to just give her an excuse like that she was sleeping forever or something, as if she was in the sleeping beauty, but then she just began asking if a true love kiss from him would wake her up. She was a child, after all, and she hadn't quite grassped the concept of death yet.

He let himself watch her sleep for a few moments, sinking in the stillness of the night. Taking care of a young child made this moments rare, and he treasured whatever rest he could get. He reached out to the nightstand and picked up the heater remote, pressing a couple of buttons to turn it on a bit; just enough to keep the room warm, as he knew nights at that time of the year could become fairly cold and he didn't want his daughter getting sick. And as expected, she got very evidently more comfortable as the room became warmer, falling into a deeper state of sleep. She had only carried her favorite bunny plushie from her room to hold onto and apparently that was all she needed to fall asleep. He plopped himself onto the bed as well and fell asleep almost instantly from the exhaustion of the day, not even caring about closing the door or the half-washed dishes he left on the sink or even the fact that he hadn't even changed his clothes. He was DONE for the day.

Although, the next day he most definitely regretted it.

He had to wake up early and finish cleaning all the mess his daughter had left throughout the day, plus now he had to make breakfast, wake her up and get her to school. Sae was a rather organized person and he would normally not find himself in this type of situation, but it seemed like ever since he became a father he was running short of time for everything no matter how much he tried to plan in advance.

"Morning." Sae greeted his still somewhat sleepy child as she yawned and climbed the chair infront of her to eat. "Slept well?"

"Mhm..." Mao mumbled, rubbing her eyes with one arm while she still clung to her favorite plushie with the other. He placed a plate on the table for her and then one for him, along with his usual morning coffee and the only damned brand of juice that she liked for some reason and that he had to drive for an hour to buy.

"Come on, eat. You have preschool today."

"Can't I skip? It's snowing so muuuuch." the kid dropped her head onto the table and sighed, clearly displeased about going to school.

"Apparently it's not snowing enough to cancel your classes. Now, please, eat."

He watched intently as his daughter took a close look at the food, pouting and feeling now rather down since she wasn't allowed to skip school. She took a couple of bites of her breakfast and she had a few sips of her juice, then she pushed her plate a little to indicate she was done.

"Thanks for the food." she was about to get off the table when she was interrupted by her father's stern voice.

"Not so fast. There is no way you're full with just that."

"Yeah I am..." such an obvious lie.

"Why aren't you eating? And I want the truth."

She pouted, AGAIN, before reluctantly giving an answer.

"It has green peppers on it..." and there you have it; this was the real challenge of Sae's day.

"I told you, they're good for you."

"But they're gross! Can I eat something else please?" this is Sae's life now. Even winning a soccer match was easier than getting his daughter to eat her vegetables.

"Mao, I spent a lot of time making breakfast for you, can you please finish your food? You still need to get ready to go to school. I don't have any time to make you more breakfeast; I have to go work."

"But... I really don't like them... please?" that was the last straw for him. He didn't mean to sound cruel, but he was tired and didn't know what else to say.

"Mao Itoshi, you're staying on this table until the last bite of food on your plate is GONE. If you don't, you'll go to school hungry and I'm not making you anything else after I pick you up. You are eating this one way or another." he almost instantly regretted the harsh tone of voice he had used, as he saw his kid's eyes begin watering. He passed his hands through his face in exasperation, took a deep breath, and walked around the table to pick her up. He exhaled, trying his best to remain calm before speaking to her again, as he could feel Mao's tears on his clothes and the little shudders she made at the effort to hold back tears. Sae patted and passed his fingers through his daughter's hair in a poor attempt to soothe her, but the damage was already done. She was holding thay bunny plush in her arms like a lifeline. "Sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be so hard on you. I woke up early to make your breakfast and you just took a few bites of it... I got frustrated, but that wasn't a reason to force you to eat something you don't like. I'm just saying, green peppers aren't the end of the world; they can be tasty."

"I guess I can eat them..." he sighed.

"No, you'll just be eating them out of guilt. You shouldn't do things you don't want to just because you're afraid of someone's bad mood." he thought for a moment. Mao eating the green peppers wasn't the ideal result now, she was hurt and vulnerable and that would only teach her that she should fear and comply which wouldn't end well on the long run... still, he did spend his time making her breakfast and didn't want it to go to waste. "Tell you what. I'll eat the green peppers for today, if you promise you'll at least try them next time, and I'll find another recipe to try to make them taste better. Sound good?" she nodded, still hiding her face from him by pressing it against his clothes. "Good. Now, I really don't have more time to make you more breakfast, so let's pick out the stuff you don't like just this once, and only this one time. I seriously need you to try to learn to eat your vegetables."

"...'kay."

"Let's hurry then; you still need to get ready for school."

Sae for sure was missing having some help on the raising of his daughter. He would never admit it though, he would try and pretend parenting was the easiest thing in the world when in reality he was fighting for his life everyday trying to shape this little human into a good person, and refraining from helping her while she failed at tying her shoe countless of times before admiting she didn't know how to do it (this is why he only buys her velcro).

He left the tiny sparkling pink shoes on the ground as he heard the doorbell, then looked at the clock hanging from the wall nearby. 8:14am, who in the world was it this early? Sae indicated his daughter to stay still on the couch before walking towards the door, and right after seeing the face on the other side he furrowed his eyebrows in surprise.

"Rin? What are you doing here?" his little brother then proceeded to push him aside and step inside as if it were his own house.

"Move, I didn't come here for you." his eyes traveled the room and eventually fell on the little girl sitting on the couch, and in a blink of an eye he had lifted the little girl up and hugged her tightly. Despite her surprise, she could obviously recognize her only favorite uncle.

To everyone's surprise, Rin absolutely adored his niece. Sure he had problems with his older brother but he didn't have to take it out on an innocent child that had done nothing to him. Besides, she was so adorable and bubbly and so NOT like Sae. Rin sometimes would stare at her in amazement, wondering how it was possible that this was truly Sae's spawn; yet the teal eyes and lower lashes were unmistakable. She was an Itoshi alright.

"Umclw Rwin!" her voice came out muffled, as she was currently being burried on his chest, but the sentiment was there.

"What are you doing here?" Sae was straight to the point, not caring about his cold tone of voice this time. And he says he doesn't have favorites.

"I just came back from my morning run." the younger Itoshi explained, still not looking at him in the eye. "Thought I'd stop by to say hello."

"To her."

"Yes, I didn't want to talk to your pathetic-"

"Language."

"Shut up."

"Don't hug her when you're still sweaty and gross, she just took a bath." he continued scolding Rin, earning a groan of frustration from him.

"Your dad is so annoying." his niece giggled at the obvious beef between his dad and uncle. She didn't really understand it but it was funny from her point of view. "Such lukewarm rules he has."

"Lukewarm!" she repeated.

"Rin, stop teaching her those words. Mao, say bye to your uncle; we have to get you to school."

"Awwwwww, can he come with?"

"Fine, whatever will get you to actually go to school. Rin, let's go."

"Don't boss me around." he complained, walking with his niece on his arms towards the door and setting her down. "Let's put on our shoes, shall we?" he took the shoes Sae had set down earlier and helped the kid put them on with ease. Of course, he had dealt with this countless of times before. Sae had the bad habit of using him as a free nanny for whenever he had to travel, which was often.

"Uncle Rin, how do you go running with all this snow? It's so cold!"

"When you run, you sweat and then it doesn't feel so cold." he finished tying the kid's shoelaces and took her by the hand, then Sae picked up a scarf wrapped it carefully around her neck.

"Don't take it off." he warned, watching as she began squirming to get away from the scratchy scarf. "It's cold out, I don't want you getting sick."

"Okay, papa." he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before taking her free hand and not so subtly making Rin let go of her as he finally opened the front door. They were quickly hit by the cold winter air, and Mao shuddered a little at the sudden change in temperature.

Stil, Sae made sure his hand was holding hers tight and that she kept herself on his field of vision. There would be someday in the future where she wouldn't need him to hold her hand; he had to treasure these moments and not let her go while he still could.

[myllovellybones]

The way I literally RAN to your page when I saw you updated

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

Oo la la someone has a crush! Props to him for being such a gentleman tho!👏🏼 I'm loving the way you write how him and Arryks love for reader develops!

"Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

NOOO AEMMAAA 😭😭😭

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

I will ALWAYS hate Viserys for what he did to Aemma. She did not deserve that especially because of how afraid she was of dying in childbirth 😭 you've officially made me cry.

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

WHAAATT?!?! HOW?! First of all it's creepy as fuck how he does not care for the privacy of his daughter and was watching her SO CLOSELY that he knew before she even did. Otto Hightower they could never make me like you��

"You were not there."

I love Daemon so much but his audacity never fails to cease me

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Exactly girl tell him!!!

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

NOO POOR BABY 😭 I'm so glad he chose to stay like YES!! WE'RE WINNING!!

The slow burn is burning its so good and how Daemon is slowly realizing he cares for her and want her to actually care for him hin return instead of how it was the beginning😍

Tormented Spirit | 7

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, smut (cunnilingus, piv, choking, degradation, slight sadism), DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: again the high valyrian is internet translated so lol. please consider leaving comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. might make another poll for next chapter stay tuned. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

Taking you to the hidden stream was simultaneously the best and worst decision Erryk's ever made in his life. The look of you was holy. His intense focus on your form was to ensure your safety, but, by the gods, it felt sinful to behold your dark hair and light fabric ebbing in the water.

He had hoped a swim would lift your spirits, just as flower picking did, but he did not know it would draw such a tempest out of you. It was as though you were reborn. You plunged into the water and shed all your inhibitions. Your voice became brighter, as did your eyes. You were flooded with more than a dozen memories of you and your twin swimming in the river near your home in Oldtown, and you recounted all of them so excitedly to Erryk.

"Oh!' you exclaim, flipping in the water to get to your feet. You point to something behind your ward, making him turn around. In that split second, you hold in your laughter and grab something from the mossy rocks. Innocently, you say, "that reminds me of something."

Erryk turns back to you, brows knit in confusion. When you you make your way towards him, he clenches his jaw and averts his gaze. The shift you were swimming in was stuck flush on your body, leaving little to his imagination. He was glad to have the foresight to bring you a change of clothes and a towel, and, my, was the pattern on the said towel so very interesting.

"What is a frogs favorite game?" you ask so suddenly.

Erryk turns to you, brows furrowing, "pardon?"

"Tell me the frogs' favorite game, ser," you repeat as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Frogs favored game?" he repeats slowly, realizing now that your expression was mockingly innocent. He hums, "I cannot say I-"

"HOPSCOTCH!"

A frog comes leaping into Erryk's face, nearly causing him to topple as he dodges it. He's so flabbergasted by the turn of events, he calls out your name in offence. He is doubly offended by your laughter. His eyes go wide as you hunch forward, leaning on your knees.

"Villain," your ward mutters, scoffing far too many times.

You can barely catch your breath. You fan your face, "frog-ive me."

Erryk's face only contorts further.

"I could not-" you gasp for air, "could not help it."

In truth, if it was any other who did such a childish thing, he'd have shoved them in the water. Alas, you appeared only more beauteous as you made him a fool.

"Forgive me," you repeat in more serious manner, "Gwayne used to scare me this way often. I wished only to know how it felt, and now..." you giggle, "I can't say I blame my brother for constantly pulling tricks on me."

He huffs and shakes his head, "well. I'm glad to have pleased you, my ever-so-kind princess."

You offer him a guilty smile, "apologies."

Erryk shakes his head, "no. Truly. I am glad to see you in such a state."

You fidget with your fingers as a shiver runs down your spine.

He is quick to unravel your towel. He places it on your shoulders, "perhaps we should go back. The sunset is nigh."

You nod, taking your change of clothes from him next.

He turns around offering you your privacy. It takes a while, but you manage to dress yourself. Once you had your shoes on, you dry your hair with your towel and take his arm, "would you please lace up my dress?"

He nods, avoiding your gaze as he feels his face burn. He quickly laces you up then you return to the Keep.

You both had been laughing, up until you made it past the castle gates, promptly being silenced by the loud shout, "PRINCESS!"

Arryk runs over, charging for his brother. Their steel plates collide as Arryk yanks his twin, "where in gods name did you take her?"

Erryk furrows his brows, "we visited a stream-"

"The Keep is in disarray!" Arryk grits his teeth, hissing under his breath, "everyone's looking for her. Everyone."

You watch the twins huddle close and bicker. As it escalates, you try try to come between them, "Arryk. I was the one who asked him to take me outside the keep."

Arryk does not hear you at first, dead set on arguing with his twin. When you repeat your words the second time however, he turns to you, face softening a fraction. He knits his brows turning back to this brother, whispering something that makes Erryk turn to you with wide eyes, "fuck."

"Why?" you look at them in concern, "what it is?"

Arryk opens his mouth, but Erryk grabs his arm and says, "wait."

"There's no other way to say it," Arryk snaps, ripping his arm out his grip.

"Say what?" you knit your brows.

Arryk turns back to you, then lowers his gaze, "the queen... the queen has passed."

Your jaw drops. Your eyes widen. Your hand immediately covers your mouth. The three of you do not speak for a prolonged moment.

You feel your stomach roll, "w-what happened?"

"She could not deliver the babe herself. The maesters... had to intervene."

Intervene? You could not possibly understand what that could mean, and you find that you do not want to. You shake your head, "and her babe? Is- is her babe well at least?"

Arryk clenches his jaw, "she sired a prince named Baelon... he apparently grows weaker by the hour."

You feel bile rise up your throat.

"Your father and your siblings have been looking for you since news broke."

You shake your head, and gather your skirts.

"As has the prince."

Your face twitches at the thought. You do not delay and make your way inside the Keep.

As you tread the halls, you think about what the queen told you just mere hours ago. There is a sharp twinge in your belly as simultaneously remember how Aemma told you to go cheer for Daemon at the tourney and realize you will never hear a word from her ever again. The thought washes over you like water on the beach, sobering but thankfully not overwhelming.

You hadn't realized you had your head bowed until you hear your name called. You still as you look up, the twins halt behind you.

Otto marches over, brows and jaw tight as ever, "where in gods name have you been?"

You straighten your back as he stops before you, "I-"

"Your wards are double," he turns to the kingsguards, "and doubly useless, it seems."

"Father," you step into his line of sight, "do relieve your rage on them."

Your father turns back to you, expression softening a fraction at your referral. You had not called him father since your argument in the maester's office. He looks at you— takes a good look at you and your sad eyes, your knit brows, your frowning lips. Your hair was darker than it was normally, and as he reaches out for it, he found it was, in fact, damp, "where have you been?"

"I..." you gulp and take a deep breath, "went swimming."

He releases your hair, tilting his head, "with whom? Gwayne has gone."

You pull your head back, "G-Gwayne's gone?"

"The tourney is over. The road is long. He has no reason to stay," Otto says.

Your brows tighten as you shake your head, "he... he didn't... wait for me?"

Otto watches your lips quiver. He watches your nose twitch. When your chest begins to visibly rise and fall, he shakes his head, "what did I tell you?"

You stare blankly at him.

He takes your hands, "what is it I always tell you?"

You clench your jaw and huff through your nostrils, "do not waste your tears on things you cannot change."

Otto rubs your knuckles as he shakes his head again. He gives the Cargyll brothers a look before walking off with you. They make sure to keep their distance before following after.

You turn to your father as he links your arm into his. You are certain, with how he cannot look at you, that he means to tell you something grave. You look front and mimic his demeanor— distant, cold. You are his daughter, face and temperance.

"You enjoyed your swim at least?" he starts, "you are calm?"

You gulp, mentally preparing yourself for what will surely come next. Your voice still falters though, "ye-s."

Otto nods, still not turning to you, "many has occurred since your marriage to Daemon. You admitted you did not consummate your marriage on your wedding night and I was deeply concerned you would fail your duties in producing heirs, especially if your husband was not interested in you."

Your jaw clenches.

"But with the apparent... change of heart your husband has shown, you should know I've had the maesters closely monitor your state."

You knit your brows at that, "you mean my affliction?"

He speaks your name slowly before continuing, "as of yesterday, they have confirmed to me that you are with child."

You whip your head to him and pull away.

Otto does not look at you with the same sense of urgency.

"W-what?"

He sees the fear on your features. He offers a solemn expression and takes your cheeks when your eyes water, "this is good. You should delight, not tremble."

You try to speak but nothing coherent comes out.

"The Queen is dead. Go to your husband and comfort him with this news."

Your mouth goes dry and your father wipes the tears that fall from your eyes. He your name softly. Your sad face looks the exact same it did when his wife died. My baby is having a baby. He frowns and pulls away.

You try to take his hand, but he slips away.

"See her off," the Hand instructs your wards.

Erryk is quick to go to your side, whereas Arryk stares at the back of Otto's head, his lips curling as he did.

"Princess," Erryk says, cautiously reaching your arm.

You turn to him with wide eyes before scratching your tears away, "I-"

"Perhaps you should sit down first."

You pull away from him before he can touch you. The action makes Erryk pull back, an unsavory sensation spreading in his mouth and belly.

"I want to- I—" you take a breath, "I need to find-" you shake your head and begin speeding down the hall.

You were nearly about to break into a sprint, and your wards had to jog up to your side to keep up with you. You don't really know where you're going, but you're getting there, fast.

"Princess, please, slow down," one says.

You can feel your breath and your pulse in your ears.

"Princess."

You find yourself in the halls near one of the gate of the keep. The only reason why you stop is because you hear the voice of your twin. Your breath catches as you lurch towards the window. Gwayne was laughing with one of the guards, already on his horse. Your brows furrow, he couldn't possibly be well enough to be riding on horseback.

You realize quickly this is your last opportunity to go be with your brother, to pull him into an embrace, to worry on him, to tell him your worries, to kiss him goodbye. You know you have to act now and swiftly, but you cannot seem to move.

Your mind is heavy as you think about how your brother is set to leave regardless of your desire to keep close; he said it himself, his place can never be at your side. Though he is the only person who've ever relied on, you know now— you rub your belly, that can no longer be the case. There is only one person you can rely on now... yourself.

It is painful to pull away from the window, but you do, clenching your hands into fists before walking away.

You don't really walk away however, because then, you're frozen in place at the sight of your husband standing a few paces away from you, "Daemon."

He stares at you wordlessly.

You walk towards him, careful as you drag your feet.

He tilts his head and clenches his jaw, "he's leaving any moment now."

You nod, "I know."

"Go to him," he says softly.

"I-"

"Go to him!" he snaps.

You stiffen at his expression. You were adept with anger but he did not look angry. You stop in your tracks, trying to make sense of his restless figure.

Daemon watches you fidget with your fingers.

"If it is your command, I shall obey."

He chuckles dryly, pacing around his spot. He wipes his mouth then charges over, stopping just in front of you. He scoffs when you do not flinch, in disbelief of your constitution. His nostrils flare, "you know my feelings towards your twin."

You slowly shrug, "then you'll be glad to know I came looking for you."

Daemon does not move.

"You know how I feel about my brother..." you mutter, "but..." you lower your gaze, "I'm coming to terms with the fact I can no longer rely on him... it will be better this way."

It takes a moment, but Daemon chuckles. When you look up and his smirk fades. Your beady eyes make it hard to find satisfaction. "So, you will not go to him?" he asks.

You stare.

"You do not want to go to him?"

Your lips part.

He raises his brows.

"I... I do."

Anger rises up his belly, but as if on cue, the sound of horses and carriages moving is heard. You clench your jaw and lower you gaze to prevent yourself from looking back at the window. The prince cannot seem to win, for he should be pleased you did not see your brother off, and yet your sadness leaves sour jealousy in his mouth— he was your husband.

The Cargyll twins look upon you both, appalled by the cruelty of the prince to keep you here as Gwayne leaves for good. Erryk in particular feels restless, unable to stop shifting and fidgeting with his scabbard.

"Shall... shall we go?" you mutter, slowly looking up.

Daemon watches you place a hand on his bicep. He responds only by following you after giving your wards a dismissive look.

The brothers turn to each other, each as unwilling as the other to leave you, but they do anyway.

Daemon is acutely aware of the warmth of your cheek against his arm as you tread down the halls. When, you arrive at your marriage chambers, Daemon opens the door and you notice the bandage wrapped around his hand. He struggles because of this. Once you're inside, you take his arm, eyes trained on his injury, "what happened to your hand?"

Daemon's eyes are fixed on the line between your brows.

"Did you break it?" you turn to him with furrowed eyes.

He pulls away slowly. He wants to know what you'd do next.

"Did you wrap it yourself? It's badly done."

He faintly snorts, "it's on my right hand."

"I'll do it for you," you say, walking towards the vanity.

Daemon follows, watching you procure scissors and vials and other things. You turn to him, motioning to the chair. He sits down, gaze fixed upon you as you take his arm again.

Your eyes are focused on undoing his wrap, "tell me if it hurts,"

His are fixed on your focused expression, "you should sit down."

"I'm fine."

"I want you to sit down," he uses his other hand to grab your wrist.

You stop and turn to him. You turn to the chair across the room but Daemon prevents you from doing so and simply spreads legs, pulling you between his thighs. Quickly, you are sat on his lap and tense look at him. He offers you his injured hand again as his other goes around you, clinging to your hip. He pulls you in, leaning his head against yours to say, "it's a cut, by the way."

You furrow your brows at his admission. You allow yourself a moment to relax before continuing your task. You find it is, in fact, a cut, deep and ugly, "did your lance splinter very badly?"

"No."

You furrow your brows deeper as you turn to him,

"This is glass."

"Glass?" you brow raise, "how did you hurt your hand with glass?"

Daemon licks his lips as he looks at yours. He shrugs, "I broke a bottle."

You pull your head back, "on accident?"

"On purpose," he tilts his head.

You huff and start cleaning his wound, "was the violence in the tourney insufficient?"

He chuckles through his nostrils, "I did not fucking win."

You smear balm on his wound. You do not reply.

It makes him clench his jaw, "and you..."

"..."

"You were not there."

You do not tear your gaze from his injury.

He grumbles, "did you even hear me?"

You lift your gaze then raise brow at him, "you did not want me there. Do you not recall how you cursed at me?"

Your gall makes anger rise up his throat.

You continue wrapping up his hand.

"Well, you were being a bitch," he snaps.

"Why?"

His brows furrow.

"Why was I being a bitch?"

"..."

You spare him a quick glace.

He pulls his head back, "... what?"

"Did I not do my duty?" you turn to him, face blank, "I followed you, congratulated you, inquired of your injuries. I submitted to your desires. Where did I err?" You ask in earnest, "what do you want from me?"

His face contorts. Now that he was faced with such an opportunity, he finds himself unable to speak. What did he want from you?

You wait for him to reply. You prepare yourself for preposterous requirements but you are met only his silence. In that moment, you remember he was just a man. Many a man enjoyed making women suffer. You gulp, thinking about your father.

Perhaps your father was lying. Perhaps he wants you to believe you are with child to get even. After all, Daemon never... finished in you. How then could you be with child?

You secure the binding on his hand, "it is finished."

Daemon does not bother looking at his hand.

"How do you feel?"

He feels a strong urge to shake you... to pull you close.

"My deepest sympathies for the death of your cousin."

He freezes. Right. The queen was dead. He lowers his gaze.

You frown and reach for his cheek. You second guess however and bring your palm to his shoulder instead, "I am here for you, my prince."

His eyes meet yours.

"I am here to care and comfort you."

He leans back, taken by the thought.

You drink in his demeanor, the softness in his eyes, the tension that falls of his shoulders. You release a breath, "if that is what you desire, speak plainly, and do not repel me. Do not ask me to leave if, in fact, you want me to stay."

His throat tightens. He feels like he is ensnared in a bear trap. He rips at his collar, "I... I have other injuries." He pushes you off and paces around as he undoes his top. It is a struggle for him, but he cannot stop or stay still, "cuts and bruises."

You watch as he fidgets and slowly walk over.

"I don't-"

"Daemon."

He stills.

You come in front of him and undo his top yourself. You drop it mindlessly, and once he is bare, he feels conscious under your scrutiny for some reason. You brush your fingers on his ribs, making goosebumps form on his skin. He can't say that that has ever happened to him before. You notice and rub his arms, eyes locked on his torso.

He feels himself getting hard.

"Did you tend to these yourself as well?" you brush over a cut on his hip.

Oh. You were still examining him. He only hums in response.

You frown, "did no maester come to your tent?"

"I..." he starts.

You circle around him, inspecting for other injuries.

"...wanted you to come to my tent."

You come to his side. He finds the frown on your face. You take a moment before saying, "you tended to your wounds well at least."

"I want you."

You nod, "I will tend to you—"

Daemon takes your nape, lowering his head to kiss your lips. It takes a moment for you to relax, and his belly burns at the sound you make when you do. Your hands come to his sides and your nails graze faintly into his flesh.

He pushes you back until your laid on the bed beneath him. His kisses trail down your skin as he works to get you naked. He kisses your shoulder, then your sternum. He makes sure to lick your breast and leave a mark on your rib before peppering kisses down your belly.

Your breath grows heavy when he lingers by your womb, sucking kisses on your skin. Your throat tightens think of your father's words again. It makes you tense, and Daemon feels it. Of course, he doesn't know about your conversation with Otto, and thinks your tension comes from your self-consciousness.

You lift your head, pulling a pillow beneath it, and look down at your husband. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his silver hair, "Daemon."

He hums, nipping your flesh in response.

You try to sit up, "D-Daemon, I-"

He shushes you, pushing down on your hip bone. He looks up at you, muttering something in High Valyrian.

"Please, Daemon, wait-"

"Be still," he says, violet eyes hooded, "do I not take care of you?"

Your breath hitches as he sinks down.

"Do you not enjoy my mouth?"

"I- that's not-"

"Do you or do you not?"

"I... I do—"

You are not able to speak after he buries his face between your thighs. You are reduced to breathy cries and a twisting spine. Daemon, though he continues to hold you down, relishes every second of it and feasts more ardently. He sighs, securing your thighs on his shoulders, nudging his face deeper into you, his nose brushing against your pearl.

He relishes how quickly your wetness builds, and soon, he feels your arousal dribbling down his chin. He moans, nails biting crescent moons into your skin. Your belly rises and falls in sync with the crescendo of your mewls. At this point, both your hands are tangled into his hair, and your pulling and scratching only further inspires his tongue.

You call out his name, screwing your eyes shut as you throw your head back and arch your body. Quickly, your belly tightens and you sequentially dig your heels into his shoulder blades. He squeezes your thighs enough to make them bruise, and yet the pain is what pushes you into orgasm, garnering a lewd and loud sound from your mouth.

Daemon hums, lifting his face just enough to see yours as he brings you to peak. He moans at your expression, grinding his hips into the cushion, desperate for friction.

Your body trembles, unable to settle as his burning mouth persists on your molten mound. You begin to squeak and he catches the moment you open your eyes to look at him all teary. It drives him mad. With a deep inhale, he pulls away, wiping his chin before he undoes his breeches.

You relax and catch your breath, hands dropping to your sides.

Daemon watches you, your trembling legs glistening with the pleasure he's drawn out. He can feel himself throbbing in his pants. You watch as he hastily frees himself. Though your head was hazy and your body was tried, your belly burned at sight of the sticky liquid dripping down your husband's neck.

"Fuck, Daemon," you reach for his belly. You trace his defined muscles with your finger tips. He snatches your hands when he finally pushes his pants down.

You squeak when he pushes you to your side, one hand on your shoulder, another hiking your leg up by the knee. You whine as he folds you into the sheets just before sliding his hardened cock in your wet cunt.

He hisses, leaning down to your neck. His words are hot against your skin, but you understand nothing.

Whatever tenderness he had before was gone, now he was just fucking you like a rabid animal. Daemon could not help himself, he loved how supple and pliable you were, and twists you into a form that keeps you prone. When the bed begins to creak because of his thrusts, he holds you down where your neck and collarbone meet. He puts enough pressure to restrict your breathing, but not enough to choke out your pretty noises.

At some point, he decides your leg is getting in the way and pushes you flat on your chest. He then gathers you by the hip, hiking you up enough to fuck you nicely from behind.

His thrusts are more intense now. You scream into the cushion as you find your elbows. Before you can prop yourself up though, he's pinning you down by the shoulder, saying something in High Valyrian again.

"D-Daemon," you whine, left cheek smushed against your pillow. You could feel your next climax building quickly.

He responds by rubbing your clit, drawing tears and another scream out of you because of your sensitivity.

You feel yourself helplessly clenching and unclenching around him, absolutely boneless under his vigorous intrusion. You could feel your knees slipping but Daemon's grip on you would not see you move from your position. Your toes curl. Saliva drips out your open mouth.

"Māzigon va, riña," he snorts, "sepār mirrī angotan tolī." Come on, girl. Just a little bit more."

You do not understand, so you only whine out, "Daemon."

Daemon growls and rubs one side of your ass, "you're doing so good for me."

He spanks you, but that's not what makes your eyes open.

"Milk my cock with your tight cunny, come slut."

You begin to grit your teeth.

"I want to see my seed dripping down your thighs," he groans, mind unable to focus on anything but the hot, wet slapping of your skin.

It's unsurprising that you come first, as Daemon always assures you do to underscore his control and dominance over you. He yelps out a sharp fuck, nearly coming in your cunt because of how your body seizes up around him. Your orgasm overwhelming, yet your eyes water for more than this reason. His words make you aware your husband sees you nothing more as a vessel for pleasure, and your pleasure is regretfully cut short because of how sharply he pulls out, his load spraying on your already dripping labia and pubic hair.

He strokes himself a few times, feeling his cock twitch in his hand as he watches your mixed come trickle down your legs. He sighs, "fuck," then scoops the cream in two fingers, plunging it in and out your still spasming cunt.

You squeal when he finger fucks you, body unable to remain upright. You are grateful he loses interest rather quickly and crumble into the bed as he stands.

You watch him walk over to the drawer, where he then pours himself some wine. You gulp, remembering your dream from last night. It sobers you out your high. You clench your jaw and roll over to clean yourself up. You head to your vanity and wipe yourself down, grabbing your robe was you do.

Daemon, whose thirst was now quenched, turns back to you with a towel. He is confused to see you standing. He watches you flip your hair behind you, pulling it out of your robe, which you then secure around yourself. He knits his brows as he walks over, "what are you doing?"

You turn to him, sitting on the vanity chair, "getting ready for bed."

Daemon stares, and you take his prolonged silence as an indication to proceed with your nightly routine.

The prince squeezes the damp towel in his hand as he watches you brush your hair. You catch his stillness from the mirror and turn back to him, "oh."

You drop your brush and take the towel from him, "I'll help you clean up."

Normally, he enjoyed this, but right now, he can't. He is offended when you begin to pick up his clothes, so much that he scoffs, "the fuck are you doing?"

You halt midway picking up his trousers. You stand and turn to the closet, "ah. Did you want new clothes?"

He pulls his head back, no longer offended, but hurt, "you want me to leave?"

You are caught off guard by his question. You stare at him for a moment, unsure if he was serious. You could not identify his expression, so you did not know if you tell him the truth. You would not survive being berated after confessing you wanted to sleep with him. You dodge the answer altogether, "weren't you leaving anyway?"

Daemon's cheeks tense. He huffs, stepping forward, yanking his clothes out of your hands, "no."

You are bewildered by his actions, for to you, his actions are sudden. You are petrified in fear, which is why you instinctively begin to apologize, "f-forgive me, I-I-"

His nostrils flare and his jaw sets.

"I-" you motion with a hand, "- you always leave."

His clenches his jaw, "do you want me to leave?"

"I—" your throat tightens and soon you can no longer look at him. You want to beg him to stay, but you recall how you did that with your father, and your mother, and your brother— begging does not make people stay. You whisper, "I... I'm terrified."

When you lift your gaze, Daemon shirks and decided to dress. He gulps as he pulls his trousers up, turning back to you. He clenches his fist before reaching out for you.

Your heart races as he takes your hand.

"You've served me well. If you are terrified... I'll leave you."

You whimper when he pulls away, holding him tighter than he did before your hands part. Your lips quiver. He knits his brows. You shake your head, "I- I... I do not want you to go."

He is taken off guard by how you suddenly embrace him.

"Please," you beg, though you knew it would not serve you well, "stay."

He turned to stone. He cannot seem to move at all but your arms are determined to stay around him. You begin to weep against his skin and he can feel your breath grow ragged. Only then does he manage to return your affection.

He brushes your dark hair away from your face and cradles you against him.

"Daemon."

He leans into you, enough to be able to brush his cheek against yours, "kesan umbagon." I will stay.

You sniffle then sigh. After a while, you ask, "what does that mean?"

"I will stay."

You sigh again, pulling away to look at him. You offer him a sad smile, "thank you."

He frowns, wiping your tears.

When you go back to bed, you offer him space in case you've made him uncomfortable. He stares at you, awaiting your embrace. You are mere inches apart but it feels like yards and yards.

"Good night, husband," you say before turning over.

He chuckles dryly, staring at your dark hair. He turns to the ceiling, "good night."

[miupow]

CRAVE。⧼ PROLOGUE ⧽ ─── 투모로우바이투게더

stay away from the woods。

★ pairing。txt ot5 x fem!reader‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎g。⧼ 📖 ⧽ fantasy , romance , comedy , angst , eventual smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎cw。descriptions of personal injury and blood ・animal attacks ・mentions of illness and death ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎wc。2. 1 k | to library。

★ includes。。。heeseung from enhypen

notes from lia。finally!! happy thanksgiving everyone, i'm thankful for every single one of my amazing readers!! i hope you enjoy the prologue to my very much anticipated crave series!! look out for the first chapter in the beginning of december!!

all your life, you had been told to never step foot into the woods. that there were monsters lurking just below its dark canopy, hiding just out of sight and patiently waiting to strike. and yet the whistling of the pines has never been this entrancing. the trees taunt you from your safe little cabin, their outstretched branches waving and creaking in the wind as if they were beckoning you closer and closer.

you can see them just as perfectly from the bakery as you can from your bedroom window. they feel inescapable.

the shrill, tinny ringing of a bell snaps your attention away from the open window, your thoughts having consumed you as you laid out fresh loaves of bread to cool in the frosty air. you brush your floury hands off on your apron and turn to welcome your customer, your polite smile growing into a warm grin when you recognize the lanky boy standing by your workbench.

“that’s an awful lot to be doing all on your own.” he comments with a sideways smile, running his fingers through his auburn hair.

“i open the shop by myself every morning, hee.” you reply pointedly, rising to your tip toes to give him a quick hug before brushing past him towards the towering stone oven. “you know mother can’t work this early anymore.”

“couldn’t you ask one of your siblings to help?”

“they’re too young to use the oven or mill the wheat, they’d be no help at all. it’s not even that much work, really, just baking and cleaning. i don’t want to burden them with all of this on top of everything else.”

nothing has been the same since your father fell ill. the bakery was his and your mother’s, a humble way to support their family and their quaint little village for decades. you were never particularly wealthy, but you had enough to get by. consumption, the village doctor had called it. it was a truly fitting word for the disease that slowly consumed your poor, frail father whole. nothing was left, not even the bones. a mere shadow laid in bed all day, a ghost whose coughs have began to sound like rattling chains. none of the medicines the doctor prescribed ever worked, they only seemed to be making him sicker. he said that there was a hospital in the royal city, but your village was days away by carriage, and you and your mother had nowhere near the means to fund the trip. part of you were certain he wouldn’t survive the journey either way.

your mother now spends her days caring for him, an apothecary’s daughter clinging on to the last shreds of hope that her remedies will ward off the hands of death. you desperately wish you could feel the same, but you’ve already begun grieving… until recently.”

“mother said she’d stop by to help this afternoon.” you assert, leaving no more room for discussion. you can feel his eyes on your back, watching you as you stoke the firewood and slide trays of dough into the oven. “you worry about me too much! i’m not a little girl anymore.”

“i worried about you then and i’ll worry about you now.” heeseung chuckles endearingly, erupting a swarm of butterflies in your belly. “you’ve always been a little too brave.”

his words remind you of your mulling thoughts, pulling your gaze back to the window. “heeseung, have you ever known someone who went into the woods?”

heeseung is quiet for a worryingly long time. “the blackwoods? not anyone who made it back… why?”

your mind is screaming at you to keep your mouth shut, but you just can’t keep it all bottled up inside anymore. you’ve never hidden a single thing from your best friend, except this. “i was reading my mothers books the other day.” you admit softly, unable to look him in the eye. “in one of them it said there is a plant that grows in the blackwoods, a type of flower. it can cure any illness, save people from the brink of death…”

“y/n.” heeseung warns, his face dropping. “you’re not seriously considering going in there, are you?”

you hesitate for a second too long— he cuts you off with a scoff, stepping forward to grip your shoulders with his rough carpenter’s hands. “there’s no way that flower is even real, y/n. don’t be childish. just some fairytale out of one of your mother’s quack medicine books.”

“it was my grandfather’s.” you defend softly, finally looking up into heeseung’s eyes— the coldness you find in them frighten you.

“he was a quack too.” heeseung retorts, releasing your shoulders to turn and swiftly slam the bakery window shut. your loaves shake from the force. “there’s no magical flower that is going to save your father, especially not in the blackwoods. i love you, y/n, seriously, but you can’t keep believing in fairytales— and you wonder why i worry about you so much! promise me, you won’t go in those woods. please. one step inside and you’ll never come out. i can’t afford to lose you— your family can’t afford to lose you.”

“okay.” you relent, just loud enough for heeseung to hear. “you’re right, i was being ignorant. i won’t go into the woods.”

“say you promise.”

“i… i promise…”

standing at the edge of the forest, your cold clammy fingers wrapped tightly around the strap of your satchel, you’re caught frozen in place. you just can’t seem to get your feet to step forward, your psyche screaming at you to turn back and run home. heeseung’s words circle your thoughts, so all-consuming that you swear you can hear them in the howling wind— you haven’t told a lie since you were very young, and never to heeseung of all people. the guilt nags at you to the point of nausea.

but you had made up your mind long before you had spoken to heeseung earlier that morning. he’s a simple woodworker, he doesn’t understand a single thing about the healing magic that hides in nature… but your grandfather did. he wrote those books himself, a man who would risk his life in the pursuit of knowledge, just to help others. you wanted nothing more than to continue his legacy, save your father and prove to your close-minded little village that he was anything but the insane, rambling idiot that they all viewed him as. before and after his death. you’ve been preparing for weeks, reading as much as you can about the dangers of the blackwoods, packing whatever you possibly could think of to help you on the journey. you might have overpacked, to be honest, your weathered leather satchel hanging heavy on your shoulder. if everything went as you planned, you would be back home before anyone would notice that you were gone.

your breath fogs in front of your face, reminding you of the hearth smoke billowing from your cabin’s chimney. you can still see it, just beyond the hill, its straw hatch roof just visible over the tall grass waving in the wind. you could turn back now, put all your things away and fall asleep in the safety of your bedroom. you could forget about all of this and wake up tomorrow morning as if you had never planned anything at all.

you will yourself to move your feet, frozen in your boots like the frost on the leaves, and you enter the ominous pitch-black dark of the blackwoods.

the tree canopy is so thick that the moonlight barely breaches it, everything swathed in darkness as you walk farther and farther away from home. the flickering candle in your lantern does little to illuminate much except what was right in front of you. you focus on what you can see, the dead fallen leaves and frosty underbrush that crunch loudly underneath your feet as you venture deeper. it’s deafening in your ears, the forest eerily silent all around you, not even the distant call of an owl, the scattering of a chipmunk— you’re certain that any creatures hiding in the trees or in the brush knew of your presence.

including the monsters.

in none of the books you read would they ever describe them more than just that; monsters that use the night as camouflage, that kill livestock in their pens and steal children from their beds. any intruder in their own territory will certainly be made short work out of. you’ve always believed that they were nothing but scary stories to keep children well behaved, a tall tale your mother would use to get you to come inside for bed.

distantly, cutting sharply through the silence, you hear the howling of a wolf. it sounded a safe distance away, yet it still sent you jumping. the sudden movement causes your lantern to extinguish, plummeting you into complete and total darkness. your heart dropping, you curse, placing it on the forest floor against a mossy tree before opening the flap of your satchel and rummaging blindly through the contents for your matchbox. you try to steady your breathing, heart rattling against your ribcage, matchbox just beyond your grasp as you struggle in the dark.

you hear the rustling of leaves just to your right. desperately, you tell yourself that you’re just hearing things.

finally, you wrap your fingers around the familiar shape of your matchbox, pulling it out to fumble with its contents before you pick back up your lantern. with a strike of the match against the rough bark of the tree, you’re illuminated once again, carefully lighting the candle before putting out the match with a shake of your hand. triumphantly, you turn to continue to venture farther into the woods, before stopping cold. your breath knocks out of you all at once, leaving you gasping in the cold air.

farther up on the oak tree, carved crudely into the bark, are three sharp claw marks you’re almost certain weren’t there before.

but they had to have been, because there was simply no way that something could have snuck up so close to you without you noticing. these woods were driving you mad, you feared, still trying to steady your breathing as you turn and step forward.

as you continue deeper into the forest, you swear you hear another pair of footsteps following your own. you stop abruptly to catch them, but you hear nothing— another thing you must be imagining… yet you set onward a little faster than before.

maybe it was that wolf you had heard, you entertained as you examine the dark twisted trees. it sounded rather far away, but you couldn’t be one to discount the creature’s speed. maybe it was just watching you to make sure you weren’t a threat, and it would leave you shortly…

a growl, deep and barely audible, rumbles from between the bushes. you break out into a wild sprint, gasping and panting, running deep into the unknown. the creature chases you with frightening speed, no longer trying to hide its footsteps as it weaves through the forest floor. you had no idea where you were or where you were going, but this beast… this was his home. the hunt was on.

low hanging branches scratch and tear at your skin and clothing as you run, blood running down your face, legs and arms— you couldn’t feel the pain, the adrenaline numbing everything except for the terror in your heart. now you were just easier to track, you agonized, but you couldn’t do anything but keep running, dropping your satchel and lantern to lighten your load as much as you could. alas, you barely ran any faster… you were starting to slow down, exhaustion was starting to creep up on you, your chest aching and desperate for breath, your legs screaming in pain as you stumble and stagger through the labyrinth of trees. you couldn’t see a single thing in front of you, completely lost in the darkness, your arms outstretched to feel around as you ran.

the creature was advancing, it’s footsteps thunderous right behind you, its snarls and growls growing closer and closer. in a desperate attempt to escape, you sharply turn to the right to run in a different direction.

just as you move to step forward, your boot wedges itself underneath an exposed tree root, and you are sent tumbling to the mossy ground. you try to break your fall with your hands, but you react far too late— you slam your head against a jagged rock, blinding white light flashing behind your eyelids before your world goes black.

the last thing you feel is pain, and the last thing you see are two bright, bloody red eyes staring at you through the darkness.

[zaine-m]

I like to think that Jayce and Viktor get a happy ending in the other universe too

Jayce feels awful that hextech took a life. Especially seeing powder (who is around the same age he was when him and his mom were saved by hextech) holding her dead sister's body

He says similar things as in the start of the trial but now fully meaning them and never mentions trying to create magic

Vander comes to Jayce's trial and stands up for him, saying he's just a stupid kid with a dream to help people who didn't know what he was doing

"Vi's with her mom now, let Jayce go home to his"

He does still sneak into his lab to attempt suicide but this time Viktor's "am I interrupting?" doesn't do anything, Jayce just turns back around and jumped, not being able to handle the guilt of accidentally taking a life while also realizing his life's work only caused harm

He survives the attempt and wakes up in a hospital bed, paralyzed from the waist down with his mother crying next to him

Viktor comes in a bit later while his mom is out making some food for him

His tone is completely too cold for the situation. Jayce is in complete despair and Viktor refuses to match the mood

He says most of the same stuff about how hextech can change people's lives but Jayce responds "yeah, well so far all it's done is a take the life of an innocent child"

"ehh, she was from the undercity. I grew up there, many children did not live to see adulthood"

"How does that make anything better?"

"Because this has the potential to change that. One explosion? There are toxic fumes and polluted waters slowly killing hundreds of children each year"

"Even if I wanted to I'm banned from the academy and ..." *waves at legs*

"pshh, you think trenchers are supposed to be at the academy and everything I did in my life I did while being disabled"

"Listen, I can't help you"

Viktor leaves Jayce's bracelet by his bed and heads towards the door. Jayce takes one look at it and throw it across the room in anger. "you probably shouldn't throw that", "GET OUT!"

A while later Vander comes to invite Jayce to Vi's memorial at the last drop

Jayce feels so guilty when he first comes into the last drop, everyone is staring at him

He sees Ekko, the kind little kid who had sold him such reasonably prices wares just days before his experiments accidentally killed his friend

Powder just starting going at him when she first sees him, her weak child-who-has-never-punched-before fists do very little damage especially because she's going so fast she doesn't fully pull her hands back

Jayce just lets her at it, crying and apologizing between the blows

Vander comes to pull Powder off of him, "it wasn't his fault, he didn't know how dangerous the materials were" she just looks back and screams at him before going back to her bedroom

Vander takes Jayce on a walk through the undercity to talk,

"Everyone in there knew what I did?"

"huh, no?"

"they were looking at me like I was a monster"

"yeah, that's cause you're dressed like a piltie"

"ohh, ha... I'm so sorry about what happened to Vi"

"It's a shame, but she's with her parents now"

*Jayce looks down, only feeling worse finding out the girl he killed was an orphan*

"You want to know how her parents died?" *they arrive at the bridge* "I thought I could help the undercity, create a better world by fighting for sovereignty. I led us across this bridge and lost so many people in the process, the undercity is still recovering"

"I'm so sorry"

"I was like you, I was young and ambitious and I wanted to help people. But you know what I learned. You don't need to make giant leaps to help the people around you"

On the way back Vander points out all the ways he's helped different people in the undercity, helping them make a business plan, caring for their kids when they were sick, helping them find a community at the last drop

He also points out all the things that could be helped like roofs with holes in them and cliffs that should have railings

"You don't need hextech to help the world, Jayce"

Jayce spends his time between his family's forge doing hammer work and around the undercity working as a handyman, building what he can to help people

Eventually he tracks down Viktor, hoping to find ways to make a more systemic change for things like the dirty water and polluted air

Viktor works on studies surveying the living conditions of those in the undercity and seeing what affects it has on expected lifespan and the likelihood of developing different diseases to present to the council

That along with the more pro-Zaun push that's been happening since Vi's death he gets quite a bit of work done

While he's doing this Jayce does what he can to start implementing changes by making water filters and distributing masks to those in the slump levels

After a few years Jayce petitions to be let back into the academy to help Viktor with his work on a formal level and with outstanding testimonials from many people in the undercity he's let back in

When their work making the undercity safer is done they move onto studying how to treat the various illnesses people in the undercity have suffered from living there

first starting with Viktor's various physical health issues and finding that a lot of his issues come from it never being studied how to use mobility aids and how improper use can put a strain on other parts of your body so he switched to a forearm crutch to help his back

I'm gonna say in this universe Viktor just has severe asthma which they're able to find medicines to treat so he still has issues breathing in a lot of the undercity, he just wears a mask most of the time and keeps his medication with him

Viktor and Jayce end up dating but it happens to slowly that it's hard to realize, they just spend all their time together working on their research and then they get an apartment together because they were both looking for roommates

Jayce stopped looking for people to date after the accident because he was going through a big life change and never got back in the game and Viktor always rejected anyone, saying he was too busy with his studies

Jayce is just physically affectionate in a way where hugging Viktor a lot turns into Viktor sitting on his lap whenever his leg is sore turns into Jayce playing with Viktor's hair when he's bored turns into them cuddling on the couch turns into them cuddling in bed turns into kisses on the forehead when one of them is sick turns into kisses when they're not sick

They're at the last drop one day and Viktor gets up off Jayce's lap to use with washroom and Vander asks Jayce, "so you think you'll propose soon" Jayce almost spits out his food, "what, what do you mean?"

"I mean you've been dating for like what 5 years now. You gotta pop the question sooner or later"

"umm... yeah" wait fuck are we dating, have we been dating for 5 years, what

In bed that night: "Viktor, I... I think I might like you... like romantically. I guess I never thought about it but I was talking to Vander and... and you've been the most important person in my life for the past like 6 years"

"Jayce, I thought we were dating? How are you only realizing this now"

"ohh"

"I called you my partner"

"I thought you meant like research partner"

"we kissed a lot"

"I thought those were like just for comfort... between friends"

*Viktor kisses him passionately but not the most passionately they've kissed before*

"Does that seem like it would be between friends?"

"heh, now that you mention it I guess not"

[iamgonnagetyouback]

Ohhh can I request prompt number 11- wondering if there might be a way to spend the holidays together "accidentally" and number 15- "YOU want to spend the holidays with ME??""Now that you say it, it really does sound weird." with Barty crouch jr please? You can choose either or both whatever you want ◡̈ thank you in advance<3

barty crouch jr x reader where you both spend the holidays together

The Slytherin common room buzzed faintly with the warmth of the enchanted fireplace, but to you, it felt more like a tomb. The empty couches and eerie quiet of the holidays always did that. You lay sprawled on Regulus Black's bed—his perfectly made bed, which you were mildly ruining with your presence—and shot a glare toward his open trunk, half-packed with the precision only someone as uptight as Regulus could manage.

"That’s my bed you’re defiling," a voice drawled.

You bolted upright, realizing with horror that Reg wasn’t the one who spoke. You’d accidentally sprawled onto Barty Crouch Jr.’s bed. The realization made you leap off it like it burned.

"Ugh," you groaned, brushing yourself off as if the act alone could cleanse you. "Do you even wash those sheets? Actually, don’t answer that—I don’t want to know."

Barty smirked. “Why, jealous of the ‘type of girls’ who—”

“Stop right there!” you barked, cutting him off. “I don’t need a list.”

Regulus, seated on the edge of his own bed, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Merlin’s sake, do you two ever take a break from this?"

You folded your arms. "Reg, I think it’s fair to say that I wouldn’t need to if he didn’t exist."

"And yet, here I am," Barty said cheerfully, settling on the arm of the couch like he owned the place.

"Existing loudly, obnoxiously, and in the worst possible way," you shot back.

Regulus groaned. "You know, sometimes I feel like I’m babysitting. Why do you hate each other so much?"

“Umm, I don’t know, Reg,” you replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe because he’s the most arrogant, annoying, insufferable, self-centered, overconfident, ridiculous—"

"Impressive vocabulary," Regulus deadpanned. "That’s seven insults in one breath. You’re rivaling Evans’ rants about Potter."

"Thank you," you said sweetly, before returning your glare to Barty.

He, for his part, looked far too amused. “I’m flattered, really. That much attention? I must be doing something right.”

Regulus ignored him. “Well, you’re going to have to tolerate him.”

“Pass,” you said immediately.

"Unfortunately, not an option," Reg continued. "You have two choices. Either come home with me for the holidays—awkward, tense dinners with Mother and Father included—"

"Barf," you interrupted.

"—or stay here at Hogwarts with Barty."

Your jaw dropped. "That’s not a choice! That’s Sophie’s Choice!"

Barty tilted his head. “Which one am I in this scenario? The kid that gets—”

"Don’t," you warned, jabbing a finger in his direction.

Regulus smirked faintly. "Well, what’s it going to be?"

You groaned. "Weirdly, staying with Crouch sounds like the better option. How did my life come to this?"

The Slytherin common room was hauntingly empty when the holidays began. The eerie quiet made you itch, and the firewhiskey you’d filched from the kitchens wasn’t doing enough to drown the loneliness. You sat in front of the fireplace, swishing the amber liquid in your glass as though it could conjure some company.

The door creaked open behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, but the low hum of voices made your stomach twist.

“…yeah, just up here,” Barty’s voice carried, warm and smooth in a way that made your teeth clench.

Moments later, he entered your line of sight—his arm slung around a girl whose name you vaguely recalled as Jessica. Or Miranda. Whatever. The two of them were all over each other, and you immediately looked back at the fire.

Barty’s voice broke through the air. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You took a long sip of whiskey. “Please, don’t let me stop you.”

The girl—still clinging to him—smirked, and you resolutely ignored her as she worked on unbuttoning his shirt. Barty, however, seemed distracted, his eyes flickering to you.

"How about we pick this up later?" he said suddenly.

The girl blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument. She huffed, gathering her things, and stormed out.

Barty let out a long breath, plopped down beside you, and started buttoning his shirt. "Well, that’s not going to happen again."

You side-eyed him. “Shame. She seemed charming.”

“Jealous?” he asked, smirking.

You rolled your eyes and offered him the bottle of firewhiskey. "So, you know how I’m like—"

"Absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I’m familiar. Go on."

"Can you take anything seriously?"

“Yes, I do. I take you very seriously.”

"Anyway," you continued pointedly, “you know how I’m, like, alone for the holidays?”

He tilted his head. "What are you talking about? I’m right here."

"You want to spend the holidays with me?"

"Now that you say it, it really does sound weird."

You groaned and leaned back against the couch, nursing the bottle of firewhiskey as if it held the answers to your problems.

“Careful,” he said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “Wouldn’t want you getting emotional on me.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself,” you muttered. “If I cry, it’ll be because I’m stuck here with you.”

Barty clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me, sweetheart. Truly. I’m a delight.”

“You’re a menace,” you corrected.

“Semantics.” He plucked the bottle from your hands and took a swig, ignoring your glare. “Besides, you’re the one who decided I was the lesser evil compared to awkward Black family dinners. Makes you wonder about your priorities.”

“I regret everything,” you deadpanned.

He grinned, leaning back to rest his head on the arm of the couch. The firelight danced across his features, softening the usual sharpness of his expression. For a moment, you hated how easy it was for him to look so... comfortable.

"Do you ever stop being smug?" you asked.

"Not when I’m winning."

"Winning what, exactly?"

He gestured vaguely between the two of you. "This. Us. Our rivalry. Whatever you call this disaster of a relationship."

"Relationship?!" you choked, nearly spilling your drink.

"Rivalry is a kind of relationship," he pointed out, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Merlin, just hex me now.”

"Tempting," he mused, stealing another sip from the bottle.

You reached over to snatch it back, and in the scuffle, his hand brushed yours. For a fleeting moment, your eyes met, and something in his expression shifted—so subtle, you almost missed it. But then he smirked, and the moment was gone.

“So,” he said, settling back. “What’s your plan? Drink yourself into oblivion until the new year?”

“Bold of you to assume I have a plan,” you muttered.

“Tragic, really,” he replied. “No wonder you need me.”

“I don’t need you,” you shot back.

“Sure you don’t,” he said easily, standing up and stretching. “Come on.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Get up.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m bored, and I’m not spending the rest of the night watching you sulk. We’re going for a walk.”

“A walk?” you repeated incredulously. “It’s freezing outside!”

“Good thing you have that fiery personality to keep you warm,” he said with a grin, already heading toward the common room door.

You didn’t know why you followed him. Maybe it was the firewhiskey, or maybe it was the sheer absurdity of the situation, but somehow, you found yourself trudging through the snowy grounds of Hogwarts, your breath puffing in the cold air.

“This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever made me do,” you grumbled, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“Oh, please,” Barty said, walking a few paces ahead. “If this is the dumbest thing, then clearly I haven’t been trying hard enough.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. He turned back to glance at you, catching the fleeting moment of amusement before you could mask it.

“See? You’re having fun,” he said smugly.

“Barely,” you replied.

The owlery loomed ahead, its spires dusted with snow. Barty pushed open the creaking door, letting you step inside first. The warmth of the building, faint though it was, was a welcome reprieve from the cold.

As he wandered to a nearby perch, you pulled a letter from your pocket—the one you’d been avoiding since it arrived. Your parents had written to let you know they were home early from their trip and could come to pick you up if you wanted.

You scanned the letter, your eyes flickering over the words, before glancing at Barty. He stood by a window, his breath fogging the glass as he rubbed his hands together for warmth.

Without thinking too much about it, you pulled out a quill and parchment and began to write your reply.

Dear Mum and Dad, Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. Love, Me

You folded the letter carefully, sealing it before tying it to the leg of a nearby owl. The bird hooted softly, spreading its wings as it soared off into the night.

Brushing your hands together, you turned and made your way to where Barty was perched by the window. His breath fogged the glass as he stared out into the snow-covered grounds, looking strangely peaceful for someone who thrived on chaos.

“Enjoying the view?” you asked, hopping up to sit beside him on the ledge.

“Would be better if you weren’t ruining it,” he replied without missing a beat, glancing at you with a smirk.

“Oh, how tragic for you,” you said, nudging his shoulder lightly. “Should I leave you alone with your deep thoughts?”

“And deprive you of my company? I’m not that cruel,” he quipped, nudging you back.

You rolled your eyes, bumping him again, harder this time. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, smirking as he nudged you right back. “Sitting with me. Bantering with me. Some might call it quality time.”

“Some might call it punishment,” you shot back, unable to suppress the grin tugging at your lips.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before leaning back against the wall. The firelight from the sconces glinted off his features, making him look almost softer than usual.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “for someone who claims to hate me, you spend an awful lot of time in my presence.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, your tone light but your shoulder brushing his again.

“Too late,” he replied, smirking as he met your gaze.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, surprisingly. Instead, it felt… comfortable, even as the cold from outside seeped through the stone walls.

The walk back inside was quiet at first, snowflakes clinging to your robes as you made your way through the dimly lit corridors. The silence didn’t last long, though—because, well, Barty.

As you approached the main hall, he slowed, eyes catching on a towering Christmas tree tucked into a corner, adorned with only the faintest glimmer of lights.

“So, you know how-,” Barty began, his tone casual, almost too casual.

You smirked, cutting him off. “You’re obviously in love with me?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Touché,” he said, not missing a beat. “But as I was saying—before I was so rudely interrupted—we don’t have to wallow in misery here. We could, I don’t know, decorate the Christmas tree in our common room.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly do you think we’re supposed to do that? There aren’t decorations just lying around.”

He gave you a sly grin, the kind that always spelled trouble. “I’ve got my ways,” he said with a wink.

You shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “That sounds suspiciously ominous, but fine. Lead the way.”

As he guided you through the castle, you couldn’t help but pester him. “Where exactly are we going?”

“Salazar, you ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” Barty groaned, though his tone held amusement.

“Excuse me if I don’t blindly follow someone whose life motto is basically chaos and poor decisions,” you shot back, earning a snicker from him.

Eventually, he led you to the seventh floor, stopping abruptly in front of a blank stretch of wall. You blinked, glancing around nervously. “Uh, Crouch, I don’t think we’re supposed to be here.”

He smirked, completely unfazed. “You worry too much, treasure.”

Your cheeks heated at the nickname, and you shot him a look. “Treasure? That’s new.”

He waved you off, nonchalant, though his smirk deepened. “You’ll get used to it.”

“All right, fine, but if Filch shows up, I’m hexing you first,” you muttered, though you couldn’t stop the small smile forming as you followed him.

As he paced in front of the wall, you crossed your arms. “Crouch, hate to break it to you, but a wall isn’t going to help us celebrate Christmas.”

He paused, turning to you with mock seriousness. “I feel two things right now. One, you’re severely underestimating my brilliance. And two, if I can call you treasure, you can at least call me Barty.”

“Oh, sod off,” you said, laughing.

“Charming,” he replied, grinning.

Before you could retort, the once-blank wall began to shift, stones rippling like water before solidifying into an ornate door. Your jaw dropped as Barty casually pushed it open.

“Ladies first,” he said, gesturing with exaggerated chivalry.

You rolled your eyes, stepping past him. “Such a gentleman.”

“Only for you,” he quipped, his grin widening.

Inside, your breath caught. The room was filled with everything you could possibly need to decorate a Christmas tree: boxes of shimmering ornaments, strings of enchanted fairy lights, and even rolls of tinsel that sparkled like stardust.

“Is that—” you stammered, pointing at a pile of candy canes stacked next to a miniature sleigh.

Barty draped an arm over your shoulders, looking smug. “This is the Room of Requirement, treasure. Think of something you really need, and it appears—within reason. Found it when Evan and I were pranking Snape.”

You shook your head in amazement, eyes wide as you took it all in. “Merlin, I love magic.”

Barty watched you, his smirk softening into something almost fond. “Yeah, it’s got its moments.”

You turned to him, excitement practically buzzing off you. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s turn that boring tree into something worthy of our genius.”

He grinned, grabbing a box of ornaments. “Now you’re talking.”

You and Barty dove into the decorations like kids in a candy shop. He threw a strand of tinsel over his shoulder, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Would you look at that?” he said, holding up a glittery bauble. “This one’s almost as sparkly as you.”

You snorted, grabbing it from his hand. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Crouch.”

“Please, I’m just getting started.” He waggled his brows before draping a garish red-and-gold ribbon around the tree in one dramatic flourish.

“Subtlety really isn’t your strong suit, is it?” you said, hanging ornaments with a bit more care.

“Subtlety is boring,” he replied, holding up a pair of elf-shaped ornaments and making them ‘kiss.’ “Now this is art.”

Rolling your eyes, you flicked a sprig of tinsel at him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back with a grin.

As the tree began to come together, you both stood back to admire your work—or, at least, your chaos. The tree was a glorious mess of mismatched ornaments, glowing lights, and way too much tinsel.

“Alright,” Barty said, clapping his hands together. “Time for the grand finale: the star.” He held it up, the light reflecting off its gilded surface.

“Go on, then,” you said, crossing your arms.

He scoffed. “You think I’m tall enough for this?”

“Why are you holding it, then?”

He gave you a mischievous look. “Because you’re going to sit on my shoulders, obviously.”

“Oh no, absolutely not,” you started, but Barty had already crouched down in front of you.

“Come on, treasure. Unless you want a very lopsided star?” He glanced back at you, his grin infuriatingly charming.

You groaned. “Fine. But if you drop me—”

“I won’t,” he said confidently. “Unless you insult my decorating skills again.”

With a roll of your eyes, you carefully climbed onto his shoulders. He stood up, holding your legs steady as you wobbled slightly.

“Stop moving!” you yelped.

“Relax, you’re doing great,” he said, his voice laced with laughter. “Just don’t kick me in the head.”

With a muttered curse, you reached up, placing the star delicately on the top branch. “There. Done.”

Barty gave a little celebratory bounce. “Perfect. You can come down now.”

You let out a relieved laugh as you slid off his shoulders, landing back on solid ground.

“See? Told you I wouldn’t drop you.”

You smirked. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

As you both stood there, admiring your handiwork, something peculiar happened. A small pop echoed above you, and when you glanced up, there it was—mistletoe, hanging innocently from thin air.

You turned to Barty, narrowing your eyes. “Really?”

He blinked, all wide-eyed innocence. “What? That’s definitely not my doing.” He gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Could it be the castle itself, trying to tell us something?”

“Oh, cut the theatrics,” you said, though you couldn’t help but laugh.

He leaned in slightly, his grin softening. “Well, we wouldn’t want to anger the castle, would we?”

You gave him a long, suspicious look. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still standing here,” he murmured, his voice lower now, more serious.

With a small smile, you stood on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He responded immediately, his hands coming up to gently cup your face.

When you pulled back, his grin was back, brighter than ever. “So, does this mean you’ll let me call you treasure more often?”

You shoved him lightly, laughing. “Don’t push it.”

“Too late,” he said, his laughter echoing through the room as he pulled you back in for another kiss.

REQUESTED FROM : this post RELATED TO : this post

[romanarose]

My Wife, My Wife, My Wife.

Protective!Logan Howlett x f!reader

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Buy Me A Coffee : Kofi : Go Fund Me

Summary: You're pregnant and take your new husband, Logan, to Thanksgiving with your family. Logan isn't too happy with how you are treated.

Warnings: Toxic families, comments on eating and weight, pregnancy, Roman's daddy and mommy issues.

Dividers by @sister-lucifer

"Dinners ready!" Your moms voice calls out from the kitchen. You'd spent much of the day helping her get the food ready, but needed rest away from the heat. Your pregnancy had made you sensitive to the heat, and Logan always made sure you rested plenty.

Logan takes your arm, helping you off the couch and to the table with strong but gentle guidance. He's always gentle with you, but especially so now that your pregnancy has reached month 8 it was even more so.

Your dad took his seat at the head of the table, the rest of the family filing around the seating, filling up both the adult and kids table to it's max.

"Ladies, why don't we let you guys go ahead and get the mens food first, then we can get the kids." Mom instructs, and the adults and cousins and your sister get up to get their mens meals. You lock eyes with Logan as you start to get up, rolling them with him as he smiles. You did not mind serving Logan, in fact you enjoyed doing things like that for him. Logan was a good husband, he took care of you and you liked to take care of him. But it was the fact your mom expected you to, and that it was the men that always got food first at the table. That's not how it worked in yours and Logans home.

Logan doesn't let you get up, placing a firm hand on your thigh as you smirk up at him. This was going to annoy your mom. "I got it, baby."

Your mom, as predicted, turned to Logan with that clipped but cheerful tone she uses when there is company. "Oh don't worry Logan, she can get it."

"It's alright ma'am" Logan smiles thats disarming smile. He's so handsome, when he smiles its hard to argue. "My wife is pregnant, I think I can handle getting our plates."

Logan gets you first, asking you a few questions here and there 'you want a lot of mac and cheese?' but mostly knowing what you like. You sit in your seat simply glowing as the women in line glance enviously towards you. Their husbands would never. They get plates for their men, then their children, then themselves.

When the table goes around saying what they are thankful for, Logan proudly says, "my wife, and our son" and plants a kiss on your cheek. You feel a little embarrassed you went before him and said modern medicine, but your pregnancy hadn't exactly been easy, so you had your reasons.

When it was time for desert, you asked Logan to get you whipped cream on your cherry pie, which of course your mother had something to say about.

"I don't think that's a good idea, honey." she says quietly next to you.

You glare at your mom, shoveling a large scoop of pie into your mouth. "I'm growing a baby, mom."

"Oh, and the whipped cream provides much needed nutrition?"

Logan leans over, spraying a massive amount of whipped cream onto the pie, spilling over onto the plate.

"If my wife wants whipped cream, whipped cream she'll get."

You make sure to hum in contentment as your mom eats a small slice of pumpkin. No whipped cream.

Your dad, of course, had ignored you most of the day. Ever since you got with Logan, he couldn't act the way he usually did with you, making him one of your dads uhhhhhh less liked people. He couldn't cross your no hugging boundary anymore, Logan always standing protectively close and his arm around you when you said hello's and goodbyes. He couldn't make subtle digs about your hair or tattoos anymore. You never even had a chance to argue anymore, Logan took care of it.

Still, as the evening went on and the alcohol poured (for everyone but you.) he started speaking more freely.

"I bet you're relieved to be having a son, aren't you Logan?"

Your body immediately tensed, and Logan didn't fail to notice. "I don't know what you mean. I'm happy to be having a baby, the sex doesn't really matter."

"I just mean," His mouth is full of chex mix. "You know how women are. Having a daughter can be a lot. They are so dramatic, and god, when they are teenagers-"

"May I remind you you're speaking about my wife when you talk about your daughter?"

Your dads face settle into a hard line. "You know, this whole 'my wife' bit is getting old. You've been married over a year, I think you can act like a normal couple now."

You scoff. "Act like what? make a bunch of jokes about how we hate each other? Surprise, dad, if I didn't like him I wouldn't be married to him."

"See what I mean?" He laughs, ignoring you and turning to Logan. "Women, always putting words in your mouth, pretending you said things you didn't. Just be happy you're having a boy."

Logan squeezed your hand. "I'm happy I'm having a boy because I'm happy we're starting a family. Respectfully, I'd appreciate if you stopped talking about my wife like she's some kind of burden, because she's not."

He laughs again. "C'mon, you're telling me you like it when she she cries at every little thing, or when she gets pissed off for leaving the toilet seat up? It doesn't drive you crazy that she can't wake up early enough to make breakfast? You like when she dresses like a-"

"That's enough!" Logan stands abruptly, and your eyes go wide, hoping he doesn't go too far... but when it comes to you, he's fiercely protective. "I don't mind her crying because it tells me she feels safe enough to show her emotions. She doesn't get mad at me for leaving the toilet seat up because I simply don't do it. She doesn't have to wake up and make me breakfast because this isn't fucking 1955, and I swear to god if you make one more comment about her appearance i will-"

He stops as soon as he feels your hand on his back.

Logan wraps his arm around your waste, guiding you towards the door. "C'mon baby, lets go home." He helps you put on your shoes, kneeling down at your feet without shame to help you slide them on. Before he leaves, Logan turns to face your dad again, unsheathing his claws "Do not ever disrespect my wife again, do you understand?"

Your dad gulped, and nodded.

When you and Logan get outside and close the door, you both burst into laughter.

"Lo!" You exclaim, Logan holding onto you so you don't slip on the snow. "That was a bit excessive, don't you think?" but you were giggling still.

"Nothings too much for my wife." He kissed your cheek, grinning, before opening the car door. When he slides in his side, he finds you smiling fondly at him.

"You know, I used to dread family events. Now i don't have to worry about a thing."

"And you never will. You and our son are never gonna have to worry about anything, okay? Not with me around. And that includes your annoying ass dad."

Once again, the two of you cackle with laughter as he drives off towards home.

happy thanksgiving if you celebrate!!!

I opted to NOT go home for the holidays THANKS 1. my family is a mess 2/ they are 2 hours away 3. I AM STILL FUCKING SICK!!!! i have bronchitis not and its awful. I woke up coughing so hard i vomited. good times.

I went to my friends place though! I love her family. then after lunch i was tired and sick and laid down in the spare bedroom for an hour. then i tried to get though dessert and some games but i had a coughing fit and just had to leave :((( but my friend sent me home with homemade soup and bread!

anyway, if your family makes you feel like shit, fuck em! not literally.

i'm going to bed now. After looking it all up, the best thing i can do to help is drink tea with honey, lots of water, and sleep so thats what im doing

[floraltypes]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ (🍡) giggles

Pairing - megan skiendiel x 7th member!reader

Synopsis - a deeper look at the three memorable moments a dedicated fan calls out where y/n and megan seemed more than friends

i.  

“We are so gonna' get her!” Megan squeals; she jumps up and down a bit, causing the phone in her hands that is showcasing the image to get a bit shaky. She clenches the phone tightly, hiding about in a dark room, pointing it toward a closed front door. 

“Don’t spoil it,” Daniella is close to chime in besides her, as it can be inferred from the hushed whispers and breaths that a few of the girls are congregating behind the view of the camera.

“Megan, be quiet!” Lara adds, nudging her shoulder so that the camera does a little jostle. “They are going to be back soon, and it will not be as fun if they hear us.”

“I know, I know." She sighs, quieting her voice at the end as if a little exasperated. “I just want n/n to have a special surprise,” the girl mumbles out, taking a few steps away from the door. 

“She will,” Sophia quips. “They should be here any minute now.” All of the present girls become totally mute, listening in on the soft footsteps as they begin to clammer up the steps. Quickly, the steps strengthen in their sound, alerting the girls that you and Yoonchae are just about there. Listening, you can be heard complaining about forgetting lipgloss behind the door before it's swung open and the bright light of a switch turning, illuminating the video that the phone was trying to capture. 

“Surprise!” the girls cheered, Megan's voice clearly outdoing the other girls as she did a few little jumps up and down, shaking up the camera once again in pure excitement.

“Oh my goodness!” you gasp, hands covering your mouth as you look at the girls showcasing a wrapped-up bundle in the middle of the table. “What is this for? It is not my birthday,” you laugh a little, walking forward to take a better look. 

“It is that newly released book series you were trying to buy.” Megan's voice is chirpy on the other side, rushing over while loosely holding the phone in one hand, the angle turning downward towards the floor for a few moments. “I got it in time; look, I even found a funny sticker of our favorite meme included.”

“This is so kind,” you respond, Megan stabilizing the camera onto you as you bend over to get a better look at the bundle, which is tied together with a bright pink bow and sticker tucked beneath on top. “Megan,” your eyes are wide, glistening a little with a liquid substance before wrapping your arms tightly around the girl. “This is so sweet,” you mumble into her shoulder with the phone angle now dark due to Megan's arm now being wrapped around your back. 

“You deserve it,” the girl softly comments, almost barely audible during the video. "I know how much you were looking forward to it."

"It's crazy you remembered and got it before it sold out!"

"It was worth it."

“She did not do everything!” Lara speaks up in the background, some of the girls laughing at her response. The camera is brought back into light as Megan and you separate from the hug. “What! Me and Dani did find the bow!” she continues, gesturing to her and the other girl, who is back to being visible on the camera. 

You make your way over to the two forementioned girls, scoping them up into a hug before turning your attentions onto the other two. 

“Manon would of liked to be here, but the sleep was calling to her,” Dani giggles. 

“I understand,” you nod, putting on a little expression before chuckling alongside the girls. “It looks like I won’t be like Manon tonight though,” you pick up the stack of books, admiring the decked-out cover with an intricate design and satisfying texture. 

“No, no,” Sophia steps into view, teasingly taking the books away from you. “We have a big day tomorrow, and you need your rest!”

“Mommy Sofia,” Lara teases, holding out the first name as the girl sends her a look. 

“Sofia is mother,” Yoonchae quips very calmly and seriously, forgetting to add in the words 'like a' in between, causing boisterous noise to erupt as the girls laugh at her mere nonchalance of the statement. 

“You heard it here.” Dani turns towards the camera, stepping fully into the frame. “Sophia is a mami herself.”

“Hey now!” Sophia pushes the girl lightly to the side to get into view. “How did this get turned onto me?"

“Right, its supposed to be about Y/n,” Megan adds in, sneaking one hand in front of the camera to pull onto your arm and bring you into view. “She-she’s our ma-” and before the girl can even finish with her little joke, a roar is heard, cutting off any other noise in the video. It is clear that Megan is dying at her own joke while your hands reach up to cover your heating cheeks in embarrassment before reaching out to take hold of the phone and switch the angle onto Megan, who is doubling over at her own unfinished joke. 

“Oh my gosh, Megan!” Lara points over at the girl, who is almost hyperventilating at her own joke. 

“Megan breathe!” Dani chirps.

“I-I can't; it-it’s too funny!”

ii.

“We are so lucky to have all of the ladies of Katseye today on K interviews for Tune or Snooze! This is a game where you either get to tune into the juicy questions or choose to snooze and take on a task blindfolded!” the announcer yelled from the side of you. He had his hair freshly slicked back, very gelled up, and pretty casual wear with an overexaggerated smile on his face. With the mention of secrets being spilled, your eyes immediately darted towards Megan, who was three people away from you, and the girl pursed her bottom lip up and widened her eyes for her own exaggerated fearful expression.

“We are so ready,” Manon chirped up, laughing at her side with Dani as you all awaited the next mention of the game. 

“Great ladies,” He walked over towards the back of the line, where Lara stood suspiciously eying the narrator up and down. The large camera followed along his moments before zeroing into Lara. “So, Lara, are you going to start us off and tune in or hit the snooze?” 

“Oh wow,” she mumbled to herself, looking back at her fellow groupmates. Taking a quick nervous scratch at her cheek, she turned back. “Tune.”

Cheers erupted in the background of the episode as there was a little party music entering in before being erased and the narrator becokend for Lara to move up closer. “Alright, since this is the first time for you girls, we want to start off simple. Lara,” he faced her as they both stood directly in front of the camera, and the rest of you girls stood watching in the back. “What color do you see yourself dying your hair next?”

“That is not too bad of a question,” she chuckled before another laugh track entered. “I would say purple; I have seen some of the Eyekons online, and I think it could be pretty hot.”

“Very nice, very nice. Alright, moving onto Sophia, come on up here!” 

"Alright, I am ready," she stuck up two confident thumbs up before brushing the dark locks behind her shoulders.

"That's the attitude!" He reached down into his pocket for a new card and let silence creep in before continuing on. "Sophia, are you ready to tune into the serenade or snooze through the fun?"

"I am prepared to tune in!" she smiled confidently.

"How great! Now the questions are going to pick up a little bit. Which of the girls is the worst to bunk with?"

"I apologize beforehand," she turns back to look over at where Manon is standing, rolling her eyes. "But everyone knows she is a bit loud..." the camera zeros in at Sophia's response, focusing more onto Manon's face as she begins to speak up and argue.

"That is so not fair, especially when Dani is-" but the girl is not able to finish her sentence as the blonde now cuts in with her own comment. Many of the girls begin to speak up, lightly arguing over one another as they discuss who is the worst to share a room with.

"Manon," the speaker raises his voice, thus cutting off all of the voices of your groupmates. "Would you like to share your side?"

"Thank you," she hums, stepping up forward where Sophia is and sending her a little pretend stink eye. "There was one live where I may have screamed a bit too loud at a hotel, and Sophia will not let me live it down."

"There were other times as well," Sophia mumbles, looking away from her friend.

"When?" Manon fires back with such intensity before the host cuts through the heat and gestures everyone back to go ahead and question the next girl.

As the rest of the girls answer questions, they are fairly similar to those of Sophia's, questioning which girl resembles the sentence the most. Though Manon and Daniella dodge these questions by choosing the'snooze' option and offering up for silly tasks with a blindfold. Eventually, it hits the end of the line where you stand with hands crossed behind your back and a slight movement from putting your weight onto one foot and then the other.

"Y/n, get up here!" the host cheers.

Before walking up to him, you took a quick glance over at Megan, almost a little fearful as you soon enough began to pick a little at the fabric of your shirt in a type of nervous habit. Slow steps guided you up to the man who was sweating in the bright scene lights. Luckily, there was gentle encouragement from your friends as you tried to take a more confident stance besides him. 

“Hi,” you spoke out quietly, causing another laugh track to be snuck into the segment. 

“So, Y/n, are you ready to tune or snooze?” 

“I think I will tune,” you nod gently towards the producer. 

“Another tune, play the music!” and at his mention, a chirpy pop song slips out of the speakers around. “Y/n, who is your favorite member?”

“Oh wow!” you gasp at the question, taking a small step away. “That is way different than Lara’s. Can I now choose snooze?” and once again the laughtrack commences as your eyes look scarily wide when peering between the host and the girls behind. The host shakes his head as 'No' to your question, and it is clear that you pause for a moment while looking back, almost as if staring directly at another girl who is sending you a gentle smile. “Megan.”

“What?” There is uproar behind you as the girls argue about what they do and how it was too simple of you to say. 

“We-Well obviously, I love all the girls!” You sputter in response, trying to catch yourself and bring yourself back to the attention of the camera. “Megan and I just spend a lot of time together, and she is always being so goofy. I have never laughed as much as I have with her.” You continue raising your voice over the girls in an attempt to explain your slip-up. “But with all of the girls, it is a different type of love, so it truly is impossible to choose a favorite.”

“What do you mean?” the host prys. 

“Just that each girl has their own special characteristic that changes the way our relationships are. Everyone apart of Katseye is so unique and so special I feel like they are my sisters. Megan was just the first to come to mind; I have no favorite. That’s all! Really!” You wave your hands around, trying to calm down the amped-up nature of the questions. “This was a huge jump from Lara’s question."

iii.

“What necklace is Y/n wearing?” Manon reads aloud alongside you. She’s been answering different questions and blabbing on about different fashion choices she has made for well over an hour, but within the recent ten minutes, you’ve decided to join her on the live. “Well, Y/n, what necklace are you wearing?” She turns over to you with a peering eye. “Should we do a fit check?” she turns back towards the camera, eyes glistening at the idea. 

“I don’t think the necklace I am wearing is anything fancy,” you shrug your shoulders, reaching underneath your shirt to pull up the multiple chains that adore your neck. Dragging your thumb and pointer finger along the chains you feel for the thinnest one before pulling it forward to stand about the others. “This one is what I got when we were in Korea for Dream Academy, actually.”

“Wait, really, let me see." Manon goes from reading the overprodding comments to turning her torso in front of the camera—blocking the view—and peering closely at the necklaces. “Wait, that is actually kind of cute," she says as she moves back in front of the camera. “I have been helping Y/n with her fashion as it is something she is lacking.”

“Wait, I don’t dress that bad!” You try to defend yourself, and Manon catches your attention as she giggles at your side at one of the comments that appeared on the stream. 

“Yes, indeed, thank God for stylists.” You shove her shoulder at the comment, crossing your arms and putting on an annoyed look. “Hey, hey, don’t be all grumpy now.”

“I am getting better,” you add with a slight overexaggerated pout, trying to showcase faux hurt. 

“Of course you are!” She laughs to herself before the door peeks open and a certain orange-haired girl plops down beside you. 

“What happened?” She looks genuinely concerned as she takes in your look and pulls you into her side. “Y/n?”

“Megan,” you peek your head up, faces fiercely close near one another. “Do you think I have bad style?”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, her lips turning up into a silly smile with her pearly whites shining beautifully. “You have me helping you now!” she exclaims, laughing a bit herself. “I mean, remember when you were into those one jeans?”

"Oh, stop, not those!” Manon chimes in. “Eyekons, it was bad,” her eyes widen as she tries to dramatize the situation. 

“Traitor!” you declare, pushing yourself away from Megan's grip, a grip that tends to tighten just a bit before fully letting you go. “I need to defend myself to the Eyekons that they are lying! And I feel we all have a favorite pair of jeans that are just classic! Like vintage aesthetic?”

“More like antique,” Manon chides. “But you are better. Anyway, finish showing off your necklaces.”

“Oh yeah,” your cheery expression is plastered back on as you reach for the second chain around your neck, the curled darker shape of the charm now being shown in the view of the watchers. “This is a matching necklace that Megan and I have. I am Yin, and she has Yang, kind of showing how close and interconnected we are.” You proudly show off the necklace, moving your body closer to the camera as so to give off a better look. 

“It was important that we get something,” Megan chimes up from the back as your charm is taking up the view. “It took us forever, but this is perfect, especially since it is a Chinese philosophy; it was something my mom recommended.”

“When Megan was dealing with her back, I missed her a bunch!” You take a seat back besides the girl, kindly looking over at her before lying your head on her shoulder. The forementioned girl's cheeks light up a little as she looks down at your image. “This was a nice reminder—along with my photocard I keep hanging on my purse of her—that she was with us in those fun moments.”

“Y/n was crazy with that photocard, and then also that stuffie that Megan got you. She had to take those everywhere and looked insane taking a photo of a plush teapot and photocard at all the places we went,” Manon blabbed on reminiscing on the memories of when Megan was unfortunately recovering. “Oh, someone asked why a teacup. For the new Eyekons, we all have charms, as mine is a tiara, Megan has a cherry, and Y/n’s a teapot.”

“I want to clarify; I was not crazy about it,” you point out, shoving Manon a little in the shoulder once again. “I just missed her.”

“The pictures were cute!” Megan cheered, shaking your shoulder a bit to showcase her excitement and appreciation. “The idea of her setting up that plush teapot and super silly photo of me in those different settings made me laugh so hard—especially when she would complain about the comments Dani made or weird looks she got from strangers. I definitely would not have gotten the same amount of laughs without Y/n.”

“Oh, Megan, someone asked if you have a plush of a cherry?”

“I do; I have a jellycat that Y/n had got me.”

“They have too many matching things like that,” Manon rolled her eyes. 

“You can’t talk; you and Dani have matching rings!” Megan fired back, and the Ghanaian girl just shook her head and tsked at the red-hair’s comment. 

"You both are very cringe, not sigma alpha," she spoke very seriously, bringing up her pointer finger and wagging it side to side in a upset nature. Though her facade was quickly erased as loud laughs flooded out of her mouth with the two of you joining quickly along.

[saphiccarma]

Can I request a Rio x Reader one shot where Reader gets hurt during her trial and Rio takes care of her afterwards ? Just some sweet hurt/ comfort 😭

- Did you get enough love, my little dove?

Relationships: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After Alice's trial, comes yours. You weren't prepared to deal with past memories of pain.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. Fluff

A/N: I'm sorry that the requests are taking so long for me to get through! I promise I'm working on them.

The New Moon was high in the sky, its light shining down through the trees. You meandered at the back of the group, Rio lingering next to you, her hand brushing against yours, soft and gentle. Rio wasn't often a kind person, often preferring to hide her care behind teasing remarks, but when she caught sight of the moon in the sky she knew who's trial it would be.

The coven approached a little cabin that stood there, bright grass blooming around it and flowers blossoming in the front. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the familiar building, your steps halting. Rio glanced back at you, a brow raised in a challenge, and your pride flared. You huffed before moving forward and marching towards the house.

"Who's trial is this?" Teen asked, examining the door that was locked. It had runes carved onto the front; ones meticulously carved out after days of work. You remember working them onto the door by hand, a project you devoted yourself to for days. You had carved runes all over the walls of the house, preventing other witches from using their magic, but the runes on the door were for a special reason alone.

Agatha hummed as she examined the runes before turning back to you with an expectant brow. The witch had visited you once while you lived here, searching for another gullible victim before moving on. You stepped up to the house, muttering a small spell and pressed your hand up to the door. The runes glowed a soft blue before it opened with a click. Jen muttered something to Alice behind you.

The coven entered the door and the minute they did, everyone disappeared. It seems this was a trial meant for you alone. While it struck you as odd, since the Road was intended for the coven, you let it slide. You scanned your old house, taking it in. The fireplace was lit with a few logs burning inside it. A book was set on the table in the center of the room, it's cover from having read it over and over.

You picked it up, reading over the pages as a soft smile crossed your face - peace washing over you. It was a book your mother had read to you as a child, an old book, and you could still hear her soft words as she stroked your hair. You didn't have the exact copy, it had been burned by witch hunters years ago, but this was close enough.

Just as you were about to settle on the couch, lost in the world of the book, the door burst open, shouts filling the room. You leapt up, hands poised to fight as you caught sight of familiar faces. Men, with masks on their face, and knives in their hands. Modern witch hunters. No guns, guns were too loud, too avoidable with magic. Backing up, your hands pressed into the wall. Their eyes were alight with sinister intent.

You glanced down at your hands as blue magic glowed, but also noticed that you were devoid of the scars you had received many years ago. The men approached, slowly, cornering you, and then one lunged. The minute he lunged, you copied your movements from the past, not learning from your mistakes, and tried to blast him. He flew back, hitting the wall, slumped and lifeless. It was one of the only times you had taken a life.

Even if you knew it happened, you stared horrified at his hollowed chest. You magic had created the gaping whole that tore all the way through him, burnt so that no blood could come out. It was a horrifying sight, one you would never get used to, no matter how many times you had killed.

While you were stunned another one of the men lunged, his hands securing a rope around yours.

Your magic was incapacitated.

You fought as he grabbed your wrists, hauling you close to the fire. Memories of the first time this happened were seared into your brain, but there was nothing you could do. No matter how hard you thrashed, no matter how much you kicked and screamed. Even as you cried for Rio, for anyone in the coven, it did nothing. The man pulled you down to the ground and so close to the fire that the heat licked your skin.

Taking a hold of your forearms, the witch hunter shoved your hands into fire. You clenched your teeth as it burned your fingers, refusing to let the pain escaped in the form of screams.

"You use these hands to hurt so many people, don't you?" he snarled into your ear, the words cutting deep into your chest. And before you had time to process them, there was a cold metal pressed against your back as the hem of your shirt was lifted up.

You knew what was coming. The blade pressed into your skin as you hands began to go numb into the fire. Words were carved into your back, painful and slow and tedious. Before he could finish both of the men were torn away. Rio had thrown one of them into the wall with Teen and Agatha tearing the other away from you.

Rio rushed forward after killing the man swiftly with her knife, rushing forward towards you. You scrambled back, wrists held tight to your chest and eyes frantically scanning the area. Pausing, Rio took in your state, and her face softened.

"My love," she cooed, crouching down and reaching out, but not touching, "It's Rio."

Your eyes met hers, and although it took you a moment to recognize her, you threw yourself at her, regardless of the pain, clinging to her desperately. With numb fingers, you sobbed into her shirt - hardly noticing that the back door slid open, revealing the road. Teen and Agatha stood away, the latter eyeing you with an odd mix of disdain and pity.

"Sweetheart, we have to leave." Rio gently helped you up, ignoring your whimper of pain and guided you out the door and onto the road once more. Once that was done your wounds vanished, disappearing completely.

You nearly sobbed in relief, until you noticed the scars still lingered. Some part of you had hoped they would be gone. Teen and Alice tried to approach you. He reached his hand out to touch your arm, a thing meant to be comforting, but Rio had her knife out as you flinched.

"Touch her and I will fucking kill you." She snarled, pulling you close, ignoring Agatha's scoff and Jen's annoyed sound. Rio dragged the two of you further away and set you down on the ground, gently sitting next to you.

You curled into her, resting your head on her lap as she stroked her hands through your hair. It felt divine to have her fingers tracing your jaw and slipping up and down your neck. Sighing, you pushed back into her stomach so that your face was buried. Her outfit allowed for skin-to-skin contact, and her cold skin was a nice contrast to the heat of the fire you had felt moments ago. Rio chuckled slightly, her fingers pausing, and she bent down to give place a tender kiss onto your head.

You were shaking in her gentle hold, eyes trained forward as you tried to push away the dull phantom pain and the lingering memories that danced beneath your eyes. Rio's fingers were soothing as they stroked your chin. A steady movement - up and down, tracing back up into your hair before going back down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," she whispered. You shook your head into her stomach, non-verbally telling her it wasn't her fault. Slowly, your body stopped shaking, but you still clung to her desperately. Her presence was grounding. She made you feel safe even though you felt like witch hunters would pop around the corner and attack you.

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, your head pressed into her stomach while she soothed your worried mind.

"You won't ever leave, right?" Your words were broken and raw, vulnerability at its truest form. At least for you.

Rio's hands froze in your hair, but she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, "Never."

[faeries-child]

No place for love part 2

OTHER PARTS: Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x oc/reader

Summary: She was the only way to get the information the spymaster needed, but he would have truly given anything not to see her again. Not to be at her mercy, completely under her control, for she awakened things in Azriel that he would rather had kept in slumber.

Warnings: Mature content, nudity, prostitution, eventual smut, mention's of SA, fighting and a lot of other triggering things :,)

NOTICE: I AM A DYSLEXIC, NOT A NATIVE ENGLISH SPEAKER, I WRITE THESE AT 2 AM, HAVE MERCY :)

(Also, I got some inspiration to this chapter from one of the episodes from BBC Sherlock, where there is the legendary Irene Adler)

The man under Brianna had started to annoy her. She had kept him company for hours now. Fucking him, making love to him, pleasing him however he wanted. She was tired, tired of him. His smell was all over her by now and she wanted nothing more than to wash it off in a long warm bath, that she could maybe get to enjoy later, if she succeeded in her mission. 

She was straddling him, running her hands on his chest and smiling down at him. The man was panting heavily under her, eyes closed and his hands still keeping her hips securely in place on him.

 “I do not believe I can go for another round anymore love” he said looking up at her. He seemed to be intoxicated with everything around them and especially with her. 

Brianna thanked the mother that it was over now. Now she could start the real game. “My lord, did I wear you out? but there were so many things that I still wanted to do.” She let out a fake giggle at the end to convince him of the act she was putting on before him. 

She rolled off him, leaving him on the bed. Brianna walked to the other side of the room, where her robe was abandoned on one of the many cushions that covered the floor and made up the makeshift lounging area of the room. She pulled the robe on to cover her naked body. Turning to face the man again, she smiled that vicious smile she knew to make in situations like this. 

“Tell me my lord, now that you are back from your travels, what's next?”

“Oh Brianna. Why must you remind me of that boring thing people call reality?” 

He turned on the bed so he was facing her. In his eyes Brianna could sense a bite of annoyance. But to Brianna he was a simple man, nothing more than plaything in a bigger game she got to play. Getting the right information meant that she would get to meet the high lord’s spymaster again. 

To Brianna it was fun, refreshing almost. Talking to someone who at least tried to be a gentleman. Someone who tried not to look at her only as an object to be toyed and fiddled with. 

“I was only meaning to ask so I would know if you would continue to grace us with your presence in the future. Many of my girls miss you, they would be delighted to offer their services to you.” You lied through your teeth, like hell would you let any of the girls near this man. He wasn’t the worst that there was, but if you would have been given the choice, you would have burned him to ashes before he ever laid a finger on you the first time. But at least he was simple at mind. Easy to control, easy to impress. 

“My Brianna, always so sweet tongued.” He got up from the bed, starting to collect his clothes from the floor and putting them on. “But yes, I will be staying for a while. Business in the east went well, so now me and my men are preparing for the next stage.” He spoke not realizing how much he was giving away.

Brianna could truly now tell that he wasn’t the brightest of the punch. But she had gotten enough information, it was not yet enough proof to prove anything, but at least she had something interesting to report back to the shadowsinger and the high lord. 

Brianna smiled and walked towards the man, straightening his collar while looking into his eyes. “I am sorry to inform you that our time together has now come to an end, my next client is waiting already.” 

At the right moment the doors to her champers were opened, revealing Daphne at the entrance.  “I am sorry my lord, but I must ask you to leave my lady's room now, but if you are in the mood, you can enjoy a drink downstairs at the lounge bar.” 

“Of course, and oh!” The man turned to look at Brianna before saying “I am sorry to disappoint the other girls you were speaking of, but you, my Brianna, are the only one that can satisfy my hunger.” 

He bent down at her level and kissed her as a goodbye, then smelling her neck when straightening his back. After that he left, and deep inside Brianna could feel a shiver of disgust, making her want to burn all that he had touched, including herself. 

It was wrong to say that she had gotten used to it, no one could get used to it. No matter how many times she laid with these men, every single time she imagined herself somewhere else. She wished she could put a dagger through all of their hearts. If only she had the freedom to do so. 

Daphne looked at her lady, her friend. Starting to close the door so she could have a moment to dress and gather herself. Maybe bathe as well. Daphne knew the expression on Brianna’s face, she knew that her friend needed to wash off his touch. 

“Daphne, wait.” She said looking at her friend's eyes. “I have message for you to deliver” 

“What is it Anna?” 

Brianna fully turned to her friend and smiled at her, knowing that soon she really could meet the shadowsinger again soon. 

“Send a message to the high lord and his spymaster. Tell them that I have information that they will want to hear. “

Azriel’s pov:

Azriel, Cassian and Rhysand had been enjoying a quiet evening in the townhouse when the fire message came. Cassian had Nyx sitting on his knee, the little boy was chewing a wing of black bat toy that Nesta had gotten him for a present on his 1st birthday. 

Message appeared in front of Azriel's nose, making Rhys and Cassian turn their heads towards him. “What’s that?” asked Cassian, while trying to keep the little boy still on his leg. 

“The brothel already answered you?” Rhys concluded, making the assumption based on the frown on Azriel’s face. After the visit Azriel had been quiet, at least quieter than usual, which worried Rhysand. His friend hadn’t said anything about who he had met or what had happened at the brothel. 

“Yes” was the only thing Azriel answered. Not wanting to let his brothers know how helpless he had been before the woman. 

“So this means…?” Cassian asked, trying to pry more information from his brother. 

“Me and Rhys are taking a trip to the court of nightmares” Said the shadowsinger, thinking that bringing the high lord with him, he could maybe get more serious information from the woman. 

Azriel still didn’t know her name. In his mind he had started to call her “the woman”, not knowing anything else that fit better. She was certainly no girl. Even though she was young, no one inexperienced could act that way. Her eyes had been so dark and Azriel knew that based on the little bits and pieces he had seen of her living space and life, she had seen more than most of others. 

After Gathering their weapons, they put on Hewn city-appropriate clothes so they wouldn’t stick out like sore thumb in the dark catacombs of the city that resided under their beloved house of wind.

 This time Azriel took extra care in securing daggers and truthteller on his belt, not wanting to be caught off guard. Memories of the woman haunting his mind. He had not been able to shake her from his mind. That devilish smirk entering his dreams, his shadows whispering about her every second he got. He wanted her, but at the same time he wanted to stay as far away from her as he could. Lock her up and keep her to himself, leave prythian and never see her again. 

She was going to be the end of him.

Hewn city:

Rhysand gave him suspecting look, when arriving at the front of the brothel. Azriel however ignored the look and closed his eyes. Breathing deeply once, before stepping inside the place. He gestured to Rhys to follow him. 

Azriel saw the girl from earlier. She was beautiful as well, he assumed that all of the girls here were. Daphne his shadows whispered to him. 

Daphne approached them. Seemingly taken aback by the high lord’s presence. So the woman had not told anyone that the high lord would be joining them tonight. She curtsied to the high lord, as well to him. Azriel only nodded to her. 

Rhys had raised his glamor. Trying to blend in, not to cause unnecessary attention and rumors that the high lord of the night court had been seen in a place such as this. 

“We received an invitation. According to you, you have what we asked” Rhysand said, keeping his voice calm,  but still demanding power. 

“Right this way my lord’s” was the only thing she said, turning and starting to walk towards the stairs. 

Azriel and Rhysand followed. Not questioning where she was taking them.

Why are you so tense? It was Rhys, speaking directly into Az’s mind from the open crack that had left for him. 

Be on your guard brother, please. 

It was the only thing the shadowsinger had time to say before reaching the familiar door. Daphne opened it for them, revealing the already familiar room to Azriel. 

They took a step to the room. Both him and his brother assessing the space. 

After making sure there wasn’t anyone else in the room and that the door was shut, he gazed upon her. 

She was at least dressed this time. In a blood red dress, revealing her neck and chest so that it would leave any man drooling. Dress was simple, but clearly expensive, seeing that it was perfectly tailored to her, hugging in all the right places, before widening to airy hem pooling down at the woman's feet. 

Last time he had been so focused at not staring at her, that now that when he looked at her face. Truly looked at her in a beautiful dress and hair that fell freely past the woman’s waist in curls. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever come across. Right in that momen, Azriel knew he was doomed. Because for him she truly was THE woman, the only woman.

“Good evening, lord of shadows”

continued... (part 3 hopefully coming soon :,) )

[prouc]

Hiiiieeeeyo!! This one’s self indulgent 😣!! But a ghost/aparation/poltergeist whatever-you-wanna-call-it reader x Art?? And even more self indulgent, they were lovers when the reader was alive?

OF COURSE!!!!!!! I LOVE THE IDEA SO MUCH

AFTER DEATH DO US APART

I have always been an atheist, I lived laughing when people promised me that there was an afterlife, or some kind of omnipotent god who was always watching, but after being dead for almost ten years now, the only thing I can say, is, I wish that was the case.

Instead of the black hole of nothingness I expected when I died in that car acident, I was met with the fate of being an entity, not a zombie as I first supposed, as no one could exactly see me and I couldn't have contact with anything. I ended up with a fate worse than death itself, the absolute boredom of just being able to watch...

I decided to ''make the most'' of my situation and follow my family around, while also trying to decipher what the hell I was, I didn't think ghosts existed, but it also appeared I was the only one too with this sick fate....Was this some kind of punishment from the same god I mocked years ago...?

I don't know, but I felt lonely, of course I would, there was no one to talk to... or to even touch. I said earlier I tried to follow my family around, making sure they were doing okay, but one person I wasn't being able to find was my boyfriend, I got into the car accident with him but after years of searching, or stalking my family waiting if they said something about him, I was met with nothing, no words were spoken, his name vanished from their tongues, from their memory...But how could that had happened..?

Was he also a ghost...? Was he some kind of creature now..? I could feel my (not-there) head hurting somehow each time I thought too much in the matter, and I decided to drop it. While deciding to investigate some new faces from my childhood neighborhood, I ended up ''staying for dinner'' with a family of four, the couple had a little girl and a boy, and they seemed happy enough for me to stick around to lift my spirits (get it?). I was laying on the sofa, looking up at the ceiling and thinking about my old life, how I missed my dairy cup of coffee, touching myself, my boyfriend's lips on my cunt as I gripping his hair-...You know, the pleasurable things about life.

While I dreamed off my existence, I didn't hear the front door being slammed open, when I finally noticed someone was inside the house was when I heard screams from the mother of those kids, telling them to run. I immediatly fell to the floor, and as if the intruder could see me, I hid out of instict behind the couch I was laying pacefully before. Peeking out when I saw the little girl hiding in a cupboard on the floor, seeing a male walking towards said cupboard, he had probably heard her sobs through the wood, shit.

I stepped out, I knew I couldn't touch anything or anyone, let alone save that poor girl that was going to be murderer by what appeared to be...a clown...?

It was wearing a black and white pattern costume, black fluffy pom poms and a small top hat, but was made me widen my eyes was the blood that tinted and drenched the costume and the man, he was gripping an axe, wriggling his fingers on it as he silently made his way to the cupboard the girl used as hideout. Maybe it was the shock or my memories, but right away, I didn't recognize such familiar costume...

As the clown opened the cupboard, I threw myself on him, and surprisingly, my fingers made contact with the back of costume, my arms quickly wrapping around his shoulders as I made both of us fall down on our back. Maybe it had been a bad idea, because for the first time in ten years, that hurt like shit. I coughed and tried to roll on top of him as the girl ran through the opened front door, I strandled his hips, jaw clenched in pain and tension as I sat on top of him, my hands grabing his collar when my heart dropped.

''What the actual fuck-?'' I asked to no one as my head decided to iluminate me with the recognition of my boyfriend from ten years ago, the one who supoosedly died too...But now was changed- Now was covered in blood, Shit- his fucking costume. This was his costume when he acted on the circus-

The clown stayed in what appeared to be shock too- before he dropped his widened eyes and parted lips, which were now painted black, clenching his jaw and hardening his glare immediatly, kicking my side, and surprisingly again, it made contact. I was threw to the floor next to him and clunched my side, coughing.

''Damnit- What the hell are you doing, Arthur-?!'' I asked, not letting myself froze in shock from this whole ordeal. He then turned the tables, me strandling him but under, him between my legs, the axe forgotten on the floor too away from me to stab some sense into his head.

I looked at him with ragged breaths, gulping softly as he just looked down at me, eyes devoid of any emotion apparent, black holes staring into my own, frightened from what I have seen him covered with, imagining what he had done to that poor family. We tayed in silence for what appeared to be a long time before his right hand shoot up, I flinched, gasping softly and almost daring to close my eyes when his hand made soft and gentle contrast with my skin...The first time in a long time I have been touched this gently...like he used to. I could feel my eyes softening, almost forgetting in what ways we had met again. His face hadn't ''changed'' but it was as if his facial features were more pronunced, as if they were prosthetics, his eyes dead and his face decorated with the exact same makeout he did for his shows, those same shows I attended...

''What has happened to you, my love...? Where have you been...? I have- I have searched for you so much...'' I said softly, he ''seemed'' angry, serious or just silently devoid of any emotion, but the way he caressed my cheek, his thumb on my lower lip, slightly parting my lips as he used to...He had changed, and I was sure he also wasn't human, but right now, when his eyes also softened and changed when I spoke, almost looking gulty but still not parting his lips to explain himself, to tell me what has happened.

He shook his head silently at me, his eyes holding the first emotion I have seen on him since I met him again, sadness. His eyes slowly lifted from my figure to my own and he leaned closer, his hands coming down to my shoulders, as if he was trying to hug me, as if that motion he had done again and again years ago, it was now unusual, as if he hadn't hugged in a long time...

I instinctively hugged him back, almost crying when my hands made contact with something again, with him...

''Why...Why don't you-'' I gulped again, feeling a knot in my throat from all the unspoken emotions from the two of us. ''Arthur...Why don't you speak to me...? Are you okay...-?'' I tried again, and i could almost feel him flinch the moment i mentioned his name, his head resting on my chest as he did years ago, his hands ever so slightly trembling as he cradled me, and he shook his head again.

''You can't...speak?'' I asked in a whisper, almost scared of the answer, afraid that something had happened to my love...even if he was trying to kill a poor girl moments ago.

He nodded, his grip becoming tighter before he lifted his head, black eyes looking into mine. I furrowed my eyebrows in worry, this time it was my grip which tightened, I parted my lips shakily to speak, my hand caressing his cheek as he looked up to me, he felt broken, like someone had corrupted him, taking away the soul of my Arthur, using it to create such crimes...

''Please tell me what happened- I thought you died...There has to be away for you to...tell me.'' I said in barely a whisper, but he heard me, looking away furrowing his eyebrows tightly, a thin line as his mouth as he shook his head, as if he couldn't tell me anything.

I parted my lips to talk again, not understanding anything at all. How was it possible that he could touch and see her while everyone else couldn't, why was he alive and why was she not able to find him after all these years. Why the fuck was he hurting people, were those prothetics...? What was he now...?

But before I could make a sound, as if he knew what I was going to interrogate him with, he lowered his head again towards my chest and collarbone, and I thought he was just going to ignored me before I gasped from the sudden sensation on my higher collarbone. His grip tightened around me, and I could feel my thoughts being ''ripped apart'' from my brain to focus on the kisses and little nips he was giving me.

''Art-Arthur...-! Wait- We have so much to talk-'' I bit my lower lip at the rather ''hard'' nip he gave to my neck on my pulse point, my legs wrapping around his hips as he began to suck and tease all my collarbone, his hands grazing my sides, almost impatiently. It was as if he had changed, no, as if he had been modified, corrupted into a much harsher Arthur...and it almost felt wrong to call him that.

My hands grabbed his shoulders and I tried to push him away before I gasped in delight as he pushed himself higher, kissing ever so softly the side of my lips, one of his hands quickly going behind my head nad pushing my lips agaisnt his own eagerly, as if he had also been waiting for this, and also wanted me to forget about what had happened.

I fluttereed my eyes close as our lips finally made the contact I had been dreaming for years, my hands weakening instantly and going up to cup his face, making out with him in a gentle but familiar way we both learned to love, at least ten years ago. His other hand eagerly caressing down my body before stopping at the hem of my pants, I could feel my pussy throb the instant he decided to put his hand around the hem of the constricting clothes, and pull them down, leaving me in my shirt and undearwear, my pants forgotten on the floor. He never once stopped cupping the back of my head, remembering the movements he had to make with his lips in order for me to melt in his touch.

His bloodied fingers ripped my underwear, his new eager and harsh side showing, and I don't know if I should like it this fucking much- My eyebrows furroweed in pleasure as my legs were parted open by him, two fingers finally finding my clit, instantly moving them in circles, making me buckle my hips from the friction I needed after years of being a fucking ghost and moans escaping my lips between kisses. I didn't open my eyes, I didn't need to look up to know how fucking bad he was grinning, as he always did, knowing how to make me drunk of his touch and abusing that power while also teasing me about it. In this moment, I didn't care that he had probably killed that family, they could go to hell for all I care...

After everything I have been through, I only wanted one thing, and it was him. Even if he had changed, even if he was now a damn monster who killed for fun or who knows why, if that was my Arthur now...then so be it.

I didn't see him smile, but I felt it between kisses, as he began to move his fingers faster, almost too painful for my unused and needy clit. My core throbbed again, harder this time, advising me that I was going to come, and rather quickly, but that was normal considering I hadn't been able to touch myself or be touched for a fucking long time.

''Art-'' He stopped me with a kiss, I could taste his black lipstick at this point, and I probably looked like a mess.

''I'm going- fuck, please don't stop, please don't stop....'' I whispered like a mantra, finally teethering against the edge after so long and letting out a whispered moan, my hands gripping his shoulders, hips shaking, my moans silenced by his lips.

While I came down from my orgasm, he continued kissing and nipping my skin, backing away to glance into my hazy eyes and parted lips, panting raggedly, almost not registering the sound of his costume being pulled off.

As he put himself betweem my legs again, I subconsciously parted my legs and wrapped them around hips, my hands grabbing his jaw and lowering his face towards mine, immediatly kissing him again, more needy this time, my hands behind his head, feeling how he positioned himself agaisnt my wet and aching folds. Unspoken emotions and words being thrown as kisses, as touches, as his hips slowly but securely pushing himself inside of me, forcing a pained moan to come out of my lips, furrowing my eyebrows slightly, nipping his lower lip out of pain.

He was finally halway in and it felt as if my pussy had missed him, streching itself to adjust to his girth, aching uncontrollably and making him groan without any sound against my lips, slowly moving his hips to enter me completely, the head of his cock caressing my walls each time he moved, pressing himself tighly against my cervix before he backed his hips and began to snap forward, repeating the movement without mercy for my sensitive cunt.

''Art-Arthur- fuck- it feels so good...so fucking good'' I repeated, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I gripped his shoulders, nails digging in his skinw ithout shame, but he seemed to not care, just focused in rolling his hips in the way I used to love.

I don't even remeber how many times I came, how much I moaned his name, how many tears rolled down my cheeks from overstimulation. But him being between my legs, huffing silently, kissing my tears away gently as he pounded into me, grabbing my body with his hands tinted with the blood of that family, it felt right, as if I could only be seen, be touched when it was him who handled me,who placed his gaze on me, as it was.

Okay, finally finished!

Disclaimer: It is bad, cringe and poor written, I know.

Explaining: I will explain what really happened, Arthur (Art) and the reader (you) had a car accident ten years ago, resulting in the death of both of you, but an entity (probably the same entity who grants Art immortality in the movies), makes a deal with Arthur before he dies, if he follows his commands, turning him in a puppet to commit crimes, he will keep you safe, and will eventually see you again. Both Arthur and the reader begins to lose their humanity, their memories, the feelings of the real worlds but in diferent aspects and intensities, until they meet again.

Art can't tell the reader anything as it was a deal he made with the entity and decides to distract her by the way he used to when they were alive.

Art is then the only one who can see and touch the reader, as it was promised and granted by the entity, that's why she is a ''ghost'' until Art touches her.

[al-dusty33]

Don't know if I'm going to use this for my Jason Todd x reader story, but I wonder what everyone thinks of this.

Dialogue and scenes used from Arkham Knight, Arkham Knight: Genesis, Deadpool, and Batman: Under the Red Hood.

⚠️!Warning!⚠️: Torture, blood, branding, rotten/poisoned food, freezing, extreme violence with and without crowbar, electric shocks, waterboarding. Pretty much everything about Joker being a monster.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker struts over to the young, fractured Robin hanging by his wrists in the middle of the dimly lit room. It’s a beautiful, awful sight and the Clown Prince of Crime loves it.

“Wakey Wakey, Loverbird!” Joker cheerfully says as he gets closer to Jason.

The moment Jason hears his voice ringing in his ears, he whimpers and tries to shy away from the clown, but no amount of tugging on his restraints will allow him to escape.

It’s been… Two, no, three months since Jason fell into the clutches of the madman. Joker blackmailed Jason’s biological mother into turning him in before being betrayed herself after it was revealed Joker was never going to let her go. Despiste what she did, Jason couldn’t help but still love her.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker’s fingers ghost over the smooth metal bar of the branding iron, “Don’t look at me like that,” A cruel, twisted smile creeps up on Joker’s red painted lips, “Actually, do keep looking at me like that; it just makes it more fun.”

“What’s wrong, little bird? You think I’m going to hurt you?” His gloved fingertips briefly touch the glowing metal J to test how hot it is, “Why?” His head lolls back in a creepy, unsettling way as his green eyes stares deep into the very depths of Jason’s soul, “I’m not the bad guy here,” He shakes his head while almost mockingly saying, “Oh, no, no, no, no,” He walks closer to Jason then softly says, “It’s Batman. He’s abandoned you…” He gently, yet firmly, cups Jason’s chin then shakes the younger man’s head a little, “thrown you away like an unwanted puppy.”

Give him two lips like roses and clover (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker backs up and clasps his hands together like he was begging to someone, “Can I have him, daddy?” He asks in a playful, high-pitched voice, “Oh, please, please, please, please, please? I’ll take real good care of him.”

He turns around to act as the other person then continues speaking in a deeper tone of voice, “Anything to make you happy, princess,” He slowly turns his cruel attention toward Jason, “Just make sure people know he’s yours.”

He snaps his fingers then one of his goons walks into the room, removes Jason’s bound wrists from the hanging hook off the ceiling, and then lets Jason drop to the floor with a thud.

“We don’t want him to end up back here, do we?” He leisurely strides over to Jason, his grin twisting more and more cruel with each step.

With what little strength he has left, Jason tries to crawl into the shadows to bring some form of safety to himself. In some small, hopeful way, he believes Batman would be hiding in those shadows to save him.

Joker stops for a moment to taunt Jason by saying, “No we don’t, daddy,” He steps closer with the burning branding iron getting closer to the young man, “I want to keep him forever!”

Jason’s eyes widen in fear while he tries to crawl farther away. He feels all movement stopping the moment Joker’s foot lands on his back, and the fear he’s feeling intensifies, “No! No please!” He tries to push Joker off of him, but he has no strength left. Instead he continues to beg like a dog, “Please no! No!”

The sound of sizzling skin, Jason’s pained screaming, and Joker’s cruel laugh are the only horrifying sounds that can be heard inside the darkness.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Jason sits hunched over in a wheelchair with barbed wire keeping him in place. Through his ripped costume, he can feel it poking into him and making him uncomfortable; he has to be careful if he doesn’t want to open any veins or arteries.

A door opens behind him, his heart skips a beat thinking Batman was finally here, but the familiar, awful laugh quickly dashes that hope.

“Happy birthday, Jason!” Joker says cheerfully. He walks over to Jason with a pep in his step, “You’re a whole year older! How does that feel?” He sets down a plate of wiggling cake in front of Jason.

Is it really already his birthday or is Joker trying to warp his sense of time?

Don't have nobody to call my own (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker smiles down at Jason as he continues speaking, “Don’t you worry, Loverbird,” He snaps his fingers and the door behind Jason swings open, “I made sure to invite some friends for your big day!”

One by one, Jason sees other patients of Arkham Asylum fill the room.

Bane, Calendar Man, Clayface, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Victor Zsasz, Two-Face, and Scarecrow, all wearing birthday hats. On the looks of the faces visible, it’s obvious no one wants to be here, but they must be here for something else.

Please turn on your magic beam

“Happy Birthday to you~” The villains all start reluctantly singing to Jason, besides Joker who seems to have something up his sleeve for this event.

Jason looks down at the wiggling cake and he can see the crude writing of “Happy Birthday” on the cake and the worms trying to escape the brown frosting. The sight of it is sickening and he can feel his stomach churning, yet his mouth still watered at the sight of food.

Joker grabs a fistful of Jason’s dark curls and continues to sing happy birthday, “Happy birthday, dear Jason~ Happy birthday to you~” He leans in close to whisper in Jason’s ear, “Make a wish, pumpkin,” Before slamming Jason’s face into the cake.

The clown keeps Jason’s face in the cake for a couple more seconds, almost like he’s trying to suffocate the young man, before pulling his face away while laughing, “That never gets old!”

Joker lets Jason go then turns around, “I have somewhere to be; sorry for not staying longer for your big day,” He looks over his shoulder and smiles, “You have fun with your guests, but remember to brush your teeth, finish your homework, and be in bed by nine.”

And with that, the clown exits the room and leaves Jason with the other patients, who seem excited to have some “fun” with Jason; as evidenced by their sadistic smirks, Bane cracking his knuckles, and Zsasz playing with his sharp knife.

Jason can already feel the dizziness and sickness coming in.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Joker takes his time walking to the chest freezer sitting in the back of the walk-in freezer at the asylum. Walking just behind is Officer Frank Boles holding a flashlight. The officer was bought off by Joker when the clown first obtained the boy blunder six months ago to help keep Jason a secret from everyone else in the asylum and to the people outside.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

“Oh, lamb chop! You’ve been hiding in here for nearly half an hour,” Joker stops in front of the chest freezer. He flashes Officer Boles a crazy grin before opening the lid and taking a peek inside, “How are you feeling?”

Jason’s body was violently shivering, his nose was completely red, and his skin was pale, almost like a dead body. He can feel the light shining on him, but his eyes refuse to open too wide, “B-Batman…? Is that y-you?”

Joker reaches out and lightly taps Jason’s cheek, but due to how cold the younger man was, those small slaps hurt a lot. Joker leans his elbows on the edge of the opening then whispers, “Batman’s not coming to save you, Jason.”

“He’ll come…” Jason mutters through chattering teeth as his eyes peer up at Joker’s.

Joker leans back then rests his hands on the lip of the opening, “It’s been six months now, Jason,” He tilts his head in a cruel manner as his smile turns upward even more, “I think it’s time to face facts.”

Jason’s eyes narrow into a glare and he spits out, “S-Screw you!” Despite the cold, the fire still burns in his eyes, albeit a bit dim.

Joker laughs then pats Jason on the head, “That’s the spirit! You’re a real chip off the ol’ Bat block,” He looks down at his hand like he was checking his nails, even though he’s wearing gloves, “Not that it’ll do you any good.

Jason closes his eyes, almost like in a defeated way, “Why w-won’t you just kill m-me…?” He mutters slowly.

Give him the word that I'm not a rover

Joker acts shocked after hearing Jason’s question, “What? No, no, no, no,” He places his gloved hand on his chest to emphasize his point, “I’m not going to kill you,” He shrugs with a sadistic smirk on his face, “not yet anyway,” He leans closer with a big smile on his face and gently taps Jason’s frozen cheek, “You’re my sidekick now. Imagine it,” He waves his hand outward like he was trying to show Jason the scenario, “You and me, out on the streets, starting fights, picking on the weak, a regular dynamic duo,” He reaches into his coat pocket then pulls out a picture while saying, “Just like Bats and that new kid of his.”

Jason tried his hardest to shake his head in disbelief, but his neck felt like it was frozen solid, “No, h-he wouldn’t…” His voice is barely above a whisper.

Joker playfully smirks then tilts his head mockingly, “You think?” He looks down at the picture in his hand, “So this isn’t Batman then?” He shows the contents of the picture to Jason, “The pointy ears are usually a dead giveaway.”

“No…” Jason can feel any hope he has left for Batman to save him slowly draining away.

Joker carefully puts the picture back into his coat pocket, “I didn’t want to show you that photo, really I didn’t,” He looks down at Jason with a mock look of pity, “But, well it was the only way for you to get closure,” He crosses his arms and looks off as he continues speaking, “Now I know it hurts but sometimes,” A big, cruel, sadistic smile appears on his face as he backs up from the chest freezer, “you gotta be cruel to be kind,”

Joker gives a nod to Officer Boles then the officer closes the chest freezer, leaving Jason cold and alone in the dark.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone

Jason’s hands is tied behind his back, he’s bloody and bruised, it hurts to breathe, his vision is blurry, and his head feels like it was being split open.

Through his daze he looks up in time for the crowbar to swing and hit him square in the jaw then causing him to fall onto his side with groan of pain coming from him.

He coughs up some blood onto the floor then tried to catch his breath.

Joker steps closer to Jason with the bloody crowbar in hand, “Wow, that looked like it really hurt,” The smile on his lips curls upward into a more twisted grin, his yellowish white teeth on full display.

He raises the crowbar into the air then swung it down on Jason as hard as he can; Joker does this two more times.

Jason falls onto his back and grunts in pain, he can feel blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. He knows for sure he has fractured and even broken bones in his body that will never properly heal.

Don't have nobody to call my own

“Whoa, now, hang on,” Joker walks closer to Jason breathing heavily on the floor, “That looked like it hurt a lot more,” He carefully pats the crowbar in his hand as he continues speaking, “So let’s try and clear this up,” He cocks his head to the side in a mockingly questioning way, “okay, pumpkin?”

“What hurts more?” Joker raises the crowbar above his head, “A?” Then swings it down onto Jason’s chest, “Or B?” Then swings the crowbar down onto his leg.

“Forehand?” Joker swings the crowbar into Jason’s face, “Or backhand?” He raises the crowbar across his chest before swinging it into Jason’s shoulder.

Joker continues beating Jason with the crowbar, each time causing Jason to grunt and groan in pain, his body to jolt with each swing.

Please turn on your magic beam

Joker maniacally cackles. In his eyes, these past nine months have been a blast. Batman has been miserable, Jason is afun plaything to beat, and Joker loves it!

Jason looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at Joker, then mutters something inaudible under his breath.

Hearing this, Joker gets down onto his hands and knees to better hear the young man, “Ah, uh, ah…” He mocks. He cups his hand over his ear then leans in a bit closer and whispers, “A little louder, lamb chop,” He places his hand in Jason’s hair, “I think you may have a collapsed lung,” While speaking, he ruffles the young man’s hair, “That always impedes the oratory.”

With some strength, Jason lifts his head and spits blood onto Joker’s face. Despites months of torture, Jason refuses to give up; he’s been through hell before growing up in Crime Alley and that didn’t break his spirit.

Joker is shocked, angry, and a bit disgusted by the act and in retaliation grips a fistful of Jason’s hair painfully before slamming his face into the concrete ground.

Joker stands up straight as he glares at Jason on the ground, “Now, that was rude,” He takes out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket then dabs away the blood on his cheek, “The first boy blunder had some manners.”

Jason looks over his shoulder and with a small, cheeky smile on his face, feeling proud of himself for that small act of defiance.

Joker finishes cleaning his face then puts his handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, “I suppose I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps,” He looks up in thought for a few moments before a wide grin crosses his face and says, “Nah, I’m just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar,” He steps on Jason’s back and presses more pressure onto his spine.

Jason stares up at Joker then closes his eyes to mentally prepare himself for the beatings.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream

Harley Quinn is the one handling Jason now while Joker is away. The clown gave her a list on what to do with Jason for her to follow. Since she’s madly in love with the madman, she made sure to follow it to the T.

Jason’s wrists is cuffed to the metal bedframe with a bag over his head to block his sight; as Harley Quinn described to him earlier, when a person loses one of their senses, the brain rewires itself and enhances the other senses to pick up the slack.

With Jason’s sight temporarily gone, he feels the things around him more than he would with his sight, and that was Joker’s goal. He can feel the cattle prod shocking the metal of the bedframe before feeling the shock course through his tense body.

Give him a pair of eyes with a "come-hither" gleam

Harley Quinn giggles in delight and claps her hands together, “Isn’t this fun, birdbrain?” She looks down at Joker’s list in her hand and traces the hearts she drew around his name, “Mistah J was so kind to leave us a list of activities to have fun with,” She giggles again before stopping, “Why aren’t ya laughin’!?” She shocks the metal bedframe with the cattle prod and causes Jason’s body to tense up and yells out in pain.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this before finally breaking; he’s been trying to distract himself from the torture by thinking of his life before going after his biological mother, but it sometimes ends with him hurting himself emotionally. He misses his friends and family and would love nothing more than to go back to them, but he still doesn’t regret going after his mom.

Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci

“M-Mama…” Jason weakly calls out through slur mumbles. He can’t give up, his mom still needs help; even though she was the one who ratted him out to Joker.

Harley Quinn snickers and walks over to Jason. “Shelia ain’t comin’ to get ya, birdie,” She twirls the cattle prod in her hand as she speaks, “Don’t forget, she sold ya out to Mistah J.” She shakes her head and softly chuckles like she was remembering something funny, “Man, I don’t know if ya remember, but the look of her face when she came back with Mistah J was hilarious.”

Jason angrily huffs. He hates hearing her talk about his mom’s misery like that, “Screw you!” After that he was immediately met with the tingling feeling of electricity flowing through his nervous system.

Harley Quinn keeps the cattle prod against the metal for a few more minutes until Jason was a babbling mess. She smiles and lifts the bag to show the drooling, dazed mess underneath. She grabs his hair and forces him to look up at her. She sniffs the air then comments, “Smells like chicken,” Then she let's his head drop.

And lots of wavy hair like Liberace

Mr. Sandman, someone to hold (someone to hold)

Jason was drowning. He was tied down to a chair, on his back, and drowning. He wasn’t actually drowning, but the soaking cloth over his face makes it pretty damn hard to get any air into his greedy lungs.

Harley Quinn checks her nails while she continues to pour water over his covered mouth and nose. She seems bored and over with the whole thing; all she wants to do is spend time with Joker instead of some kid, “Jeez, it’s been almost an hour. How long I got to keep this up?”

Jason gurgles and sputters as he tries to breathe underneath the cloth.

Would be so peachy before we're too old

Harley Quinn cups her hand over her ear and leans down a little while still pouring the water over Jason’s face then asks, “What’s that? I can’t understand ya. Speak up!”

Jason tries moving his head around to get some air, but that only lasted for a few seconds before Harley Quinn was pouring water over his mouth and nose again.

So please turn on your magic beam

Soon the water in the jugs runs dry and Harley Quinn throws it over her shoulder, not caring where it lands. She leaves Jason on the floor for a few more minutes to let him catch his breath and not die of asphyxia.

She looks to her right at the other jug filled to the brim with water to pour over Jason, but her arm was getting tired and she really wants to get out of here to be with Joker.

Harley Quinn looks down at Jason with a big grin on her face, “Good news! I’m wrappin’ up your morin’ constitutional early!” She claps her hands cheerfully then grabs his chair to sit him upright, “We’ll take a quick break, sweetums.”

She takes a few steps away from Jason toward the door, “You and me got another big day ahead of us, Toddy Woddy!”

She opens the door then steps out and closes the door behind her.

Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please

Jason was left sitting alone, dripping wet, struggling to breath, with Mister Sandman by the Chordettes playing in the room. It was a song Joker likes playing when torturing Jason; in some twisted way he finds it a bit comforting to just hear the song when the sounds of his screams, his laughter, and whatever Joker is torturing him with doesn’t mix with the lyrics.

He’s heard from a passing conversation between Joker and Harley Quinn about April 27th is right around the corner; it’s been a whole year since Jason was captured.

Mr. Sandman, bring us a dream

[hannahssimblr]

Pretending to be good at driving isn’t as easy as I assumed. It’s not like pretending to be into wine, or classical music, or other such things that allow you to nod along and smile, and make statements bland enough to seem vaguely knowledgeable. Italians drive on the right, and I’m terrified, yet one of my hands is nonchalantly out the open window of the rental car, resting against warm metal, while the other white knuckles the wheel. Tyres toss dust into the air behind us, and I feel like we’re starring in a film about Americans in southern Italy, where the sky is colour graded cyan blue, and the greens bleached out, dulled to bone dry ochre so that you know it is hot and poor. 

I don’t think I have ever been much of a driver, despite the belief of my classmates back at school who assumed I must be, simply because I owned a car. Yes, I could drive it. I could control the clutch, shift the gears and manoeuvre myself into a parking space with semi-accuracy, but the traffic in Dublin was so diabolical that I spent most of my driving career crawling by, metre by metre, bumper to bumper until I’d give up, pull into the train station and get the DART the rest of the way. The other times, I was having disappointing sex in the passenger seat, or eating ice creams from McDonalds, a dead eyed stare over the bay on Fridays after school, just to have a way to unwind. 

The road to Amalfi is a narrow twist of hairpin turns carved from a mountain, climbing above little towns and a verdant landscape which I picture dried to brush by the time July’s heat comes, a landscape in sepia tones.

Warm, dry air kisses my sweat dampened skin as I climb out of the car to the smell of the sea. Salt and seaweed, and fish, from a seafood restaurant by the water. Waves lap against the shore in a gentle symphony as seagulls circle above the vibrant hum of a busy tourist town. 

The first thing Astrid wants to do is take photographs. And so, she perches on a low wall, against a backdrop of azure waters and green capped mountains, and poses for the camera. I take several, in a variety of positions, and indulge her whims by digging her straw hat out from the car boot so that she can pose with it, one hand on the brim as she looks out over the Tyrrhenian sea like it is her kingdom. 

I get her to take some with me, too, using the front facing camera on my phone, then choose one to send to my mother. 

We’re in Italy. Wonderful. Enjoy. 

I suspect it will be weeks before we communicate again. 

“It looks like it did on the website, anyway,” I say, as I unload our cases outside our villa. It is loaded with picturesque, old-world charm, the brick exterior crumbling slightly from salt and age. We decided that a villa with a pool would suit us best when I booked it, surmising we would appreciate a swim before breakfast under the morning sun. I gaze at my reflection now, a ripple of dark hair against the cloudless sky and take a moment to relax my shoulders, and thank God it will be ten days before I have to drive those perilous roads again.

 Our footsteps echo against the hallway tile. Astrid gazes around her as I haul our bags upstairs. 

“It’s quite nice,” she says, an understatement that incites a chuckle from me. This is the nicest place I’ve ever stayed at, including a family member’s desert guest house in Palm Springs. It is perfect. From behind the wrought iron banisters I spy a small living room, white linen couches and a bowl of fresh oranges on the table, and suspect they are from the tree outside. 

“It’s a marvellous view from here,” Astrid says at the bedroom window while I roll the last of our cases across the floor towards the wardrobe. I won’t want to unpack them. I usually live out of my bags while I’m travelling, but I suspect Astrid will like things hung up and put away. With the heat and the exhaustion from travelling, I cannot face the thought. I join her at the window, where we look out upon a small dock, little coloured boats floating in water so serene, so clear that we can see their shadows at the bottom of the sea.

“Woah, yeah. It’s pretty here, huh?”

“I told you that,” she says, leaning into my chest. “I think this is the best place in the world.” 

“Touristy, though, don’t you think?” Across the little bay, the coastal road is traffic jammed, holidaymakers weaving between the cars. A tour yacht glides by, its linen clad passengers pointing their cameras toward the charming little houses that cling to the mountainside, including ours. I raise my hand to wave at them, though I’m certain they cannot see us. 

“We are tourists too,” she points out. “It’s good for the economy. If we weren’t here, the restaurants and craft shops would have to close.”

I hum in vague agreement, caught in between two ways of thinking. Jonas paced my room as I packed my bags for the airport, giving me a spirited, if not slightly manic, lecture about the perils of tourism, from environmental degradation, cultural disruption, exploitation and overcrowding. 

“Shut up,” I said. “You and I are going to Thailand in June.” And he argued it was different, because he had intentions of learning about the cultures and traditions, and being respectful, unlike all the other tourists, trying to take pictures in the temples with their shoes still on and eating in Subway instead of trying a new cuisine. 

Still, the conversation has left me with a vague feeling of nuisance I’ve never experienced while travelling abroad. I look around this bedroom, the voile curtains fluttering in the breeze that floats through the open balcony door, and fear I am gentrifying the town just by standing here. What if they hate me, the locals, and the chino trousers in my suitcase, the way my hair is pushed back, my trendy little sunglasses? I couldn’t even ask for water in Italian if I wanted to.

But Astrid can. Perfect, clever Astrid. She gazes at her appearance in the mirror, and smooths out her dress, which shows no signs of having been travelled in. She combs her fingers through her pin straight hair, and a strand comes loose, floating through the sun rays like a strand of white silk. 

I wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her neck. “This is a great room, hm?”

“Yes, it’s spacious.”

“We could spend a lot of time in here.” I slide my hand over her ribs and cup her breasts. She sighs and lifts them away. “Don’t. Not now. We’ll put creases in the fabric.”

“You can change into another outfit.” God knows, she has packed enough clothes. 

She twists out of my arms and opens her suitcase on the bed, retrieving her toothbrush. “I don’t feel clean after travelling. I’d need time to have a shower and freshen myself up first.”

To this, I laugh. “I don’t really care about that, to be honest. Like, I’ll go down on you no matter–”

“Well, I do.” She pushes through to the adjacent bathroom. The tap squeaks, and water splashes into the sink. “I want to see the town, anyway. I don’t want to waste the day in bed together.”

“I never think a day is wasted like that.”

“Well, we can do it later. Perhaps after dinner.”

“Very organised,” I say, and she doesn’t respond. She’s brushing her teeth. 

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