#nothing special just a perfect warm spring day

[sketchbeelur]

[knoxic]

Cycle of Greed

Azriel x reader | Lucien Vanserra x reader | p1 - p2 - p3 - p4 - p5

Summary: Reader and Lucien arrive at Day Court and go drinking. Azriel goes through some rough shit and gives Rhys and Cassian a new trauma.

wc: 6k

warnings: Alcohol, almost death experience, mentions of sex (?)

a/n: I wrote the Lucien scenes while drunk and sleepy, the next day when I went back to write I didn't remember half of it. It was a good surprise, I caught myself blushing at my own work.

After arriving at Day Court, Lucien took you to the inn where you'd be staying. Helion no doubt had a room ready for both of you, but Lucien didn't want to risk being stuck in his father's palace, not again. You understood his reasons, of course, the damage Beron had done to him was one Lucien would have to carry for the rest of his life.

The inn was cozy and entirely Day coded, embellished in white and gold. Your room was more of a flat, with a couple of bedrooms, a bathroom decorated with stained glass that reflected colorful lights, the kitchen was filled with white furniture, high arched windows allowed rays of sunlight to dance inside the living room, you could swear Lucien's skin seemed to glow with them.

Watching him in what was supposed to be one of his natural habitats was something special. Lucien had to learn how to fit into places that weren't ready to receive him in his true form, so he adapted. Although he still maintained some of his origins, the Autumn part of himself had mixed with Spring over the years, he kept some of the colors and habits, Day Court was only in his blood, hidden from everything and everyone, even himself for some time. While your wardrobe only contained Night Court clothes, Lucien had perfected his to fit into any court he had to visit.

Now adorned in white and gold, Lucien was breathtaking, striking male beauty only Helion radiated.

"When we get back, you should ask Feyre for a painting, it'll last longer." He didn't even lift his head to look at you. Your cheeks warmed, he caught you staring him up and down, but surely there was nothing wrong in admiring a friend right? Especially if said friend was Lucien, who deserved to be looked at with nothing but admiration and pride.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him with no true irritation. Lucien barked out a laugh, throwing his head back, a smile curled on your lips at the sight.

"There's nothing wrong with looking," he turned his upper body back to face you, flashing you a smirk. "I even dare say I liked it."

"Gods, you're so full of yourself aren't you?!" you groaned, more at yourself for eyeing him like that. After over a century of pining over Azriel, admiring him, wanting only him, looking at another male felt weird.

You went back to your room, dropping on the bed and rethinking your decision to come. You didn't regret accompanying Lucien, but this close proximity suddenly felt strange, you shared an apartment with him for God's sake, why did you feel this way?

Being with Lucien never felt wrong before, but now it did. Because you were starting to see him as a male, not a friendly male, an insanely attractive male. When your body heated and a knot formed on your lower belly, you thought of Azriel. Not Lucien. Now you weren't sure who you'd think of when your hand drifted down your body, who you'd imagine between your legs when your eyes slipped close from pleasure.

Azriel had never left you unsatisfied, it always felt good to be with him, he knew what to do and you wouldn't deny that, and it was natural that you'd only find pleasure with him or yourself. But if he could want another female when he was still with you, then you wouldn't feel bad about wanting another male while being single.

"Did I make you uncomfortable?" Lucien asked quietly, you hadn't even heard the door opening. You lifted your head to peer at him, he kept his head down while leaning against the doorway. "It wasn't my intention."

"You didn't," your head dropped back, "I'm just thinking." It was true, but he just didn't need to know what you were thinking. Lucien hummed and you heard his steps coming closer, you had closed your eyes for a moment when his weight dropped on the bed, instead of laying on the space beside you, he opted for laying horizontally above you, being careful to not lay on your hair but still close enough.

"Of him?" You would've laughed at the situation if you weren't so mortified. You wondered if Lucien thought the same, if he felt attracted to other females after Elain.

"Can I ask you something?" As embarrassed as you were, knowing that he felt the same would make you feel better, and if he didn't, then you'd just pretend you never felt anything.

"I didn't know we had to ask for permission, Ace,"  he tried teasing but his voice was as tense as yours. "Of course you can." You took a moment to find the courage you needed.

"Do you– ugh," it was harder than you expected, Lucien wouldn't judge you but he'd definitely tease you for being horny, and maybe that wasn't exactly what you needed.

"Just ask it." You turned your head up slightly, he already looked down at you, seeing him look so vulnerable and open eased your worries. Lucien was your equal, no matter what, he'd stand by you and some silly lustful thoughts wouldn't push him away. Not after everything you went through together.

"Do you feel... Like, do you want–or think of other... females?" heat rose to your cheeks and ears, you averted your eyes from his but kept your head turned to the side, so you could see if he tried to hide a laugh.

"Yes." Your head snapped up, his face was as serious as you ever saw him, like it didn't bother him at all to admit it.

"Yes?!" You didn't mean to sound so shocked, you were just surprised by his lack of concern. If it didn't mean that big of a deal for him, who had a mate, then it wouldn't be for you either. "Like in a–"

"Sexual way? Yes, I think of another female." His eyes drifted away before he turned to look up, "It's easy not to think of Elain. She's my mate, and yet... I don't even feel attracted to her anymore." His mouth opened and closed, a sigh escaping him before he looked at you, his eyes pleading for something you couldn't place, "Would you think badly of me if I said she meant nothing?" You wouldn't, couldn't ever think badly of him. Elain never gave him a chance, he was completely allowed to do and think whatever he wanted now. At least he had tried.

"No," your hands twitched with the need to touch him, comfort him, "I understand." The relief in his eyes was clear, he needed reassurance.

Only a beat of a moment passed before you could stand being so far. Slowly you pushed yourself up, wiggling your head against his arm hoping he would understand what you wanted, fortunately he did, with an amused scoff Lucien lifted his arm, allowing you to push yourself higher and drop your head into his stomach. His arm dropped beside your body, his fingers brushed your own arm a couple times before he deemed it okay to rest his hand on it.

"Can I ask you something?" Hearing the same phrase you spoke to him before now really sounded weird.

"Since when do we ask for permission?" Lucien laughed, his stomach moved and your head bounced, you lifted yourself to glare at him for it and it only made him laugh harder. Before you knew it, a hot hand placed on your forehead pulled you back down, his arm dropping to your chest to hold you back from lifting again.

"Why did you ask me that?" His voice was gentle and warm, your cheeks burned at how fast your body filled with goosebumps, "Do you feel attracted to other males?" At your lack of response, his thumb caressed your cheek carefully. "It's okay if you do, it doesn't have to mean anything."

It doesn't have to mean anything.

There's something about Lucien that just soothes you, as weird as it feels to say it, his mainly nature allows you to be yourself, no hard shells. You didn't have to fight off males at bars because Lucien was there to do it for you. You didn't have to be the male. He radiated warmth and comfort.

"Come," he didn't give you a chance to respond to his latter question, the hand that wasn't on your chest gently lifted your head, "Let's go get drunk." For a brief moment his eyes settled on your body, before you could feel embarrassed under his gaze, Lucien spoke with a certain annoyance, "But it won't do with those clothes, honey."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes, "What's wrong with my clothes?" Even though your attire was rather simple, there wasn't anything particularly wrong or ugly about it.

"Funny, you never told me you had eye problems." The mocking smile on his face made you groan.

"Because I don't!" You yelled, sitting up so fast that your head spinned. Lucien blinked slowly, waiting for you to realize what was wrong, he only spoke when he noticed how lost you were.

"We're in Day Court, they're gonna kick us out of the bar if I take you out looking like this!" his hand gestured towards your dark clothes, "You're the perfect picture of a Night Court resident." Lucien stood up, snatching your hand and pulling you to your feet, you almost fell when he continued pulling you out of the room, towards the front door.

𓂃

When Azriel woke up for the second time, his chest hurt. A pressure he never felt before making it hard to breathe, his lungs burning as if he was drowning, the satin sheets scratched his sensitive skin. After he managed to fully open his eyes and look down at himself, he noticed red bumps on his arms and chest. When he tried to move, his whole body ached like he'd just fought the worst battle of his life. And the worst part was, he couldn't feel his wings.

In his half assed inspection, he noticed the dirty blonde hair sprawled across his sheets and he knew then that his shadows wouldn't help him. He tried to call for Elain, or anyone really, but he just ended up having a bad coughing fit. As he usually did when he couldn't or didn't want to speak, he called for Rhysand, hoping his brother would hear his desperate plea and help him.

'What's wrong?' his voice sounded annoyed but if Azrie wasn't so concerned, he'd notice how worried Rhysand actually sounded. 'Az? Answer me!'

When he woke for the third time, the room he was in wasn't his own, he recognized after a brief glance around that it was the infirmary.

"You're awake! Thank the mother..." The last part was uttered under his breath, Rhysand shot up to his feet, ruffling Azriel's hair with one hand and lightly patting his arm with the other. "I thought we'd lost you, brother."

Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway moments later, the door busted open and suddenly he was being pulled up, strong arms holding his body tightly.

"Idiot," sniffles and sobs muffled against his neck, "you scared me!" Cassian pulled back to look at him, wide and red eyes roaming over his face and body, taking in his features and wellbeing.

"What happened?" Azriel pulled back only to be taken by a different pair of arms, Rhysand nuzzled his head against his own, a shaky breath tickling his still sensitive skin.

"Madja said you had an allergic reaction, something you ate or drank or something overdosed..." Cassian spoke slowly, like the words felt weird on his tongue, "Azriel–" his breath got stuck in his throat, a choking sound filled the quiet room. Rhysand pulled back from the hug, violet eyes drifted between his two brothers, settling a while longer on Cassian. Azriel watched their silent interaction curiously.

"Az..." Rhysand called his attention, waiting for him to nod before continuing, "Your heart stopped beating."

𓂃

Shopping with Lucien was exactly how you expected. Trying on a bunch of different clothes only for him to roll his eyes and shake his head no, gesturing with a hand for you to get back inside the dressing room and try the next. You would've gotten annoyed at him if he didn't make up for his attitude.

"That's... By the Mother, Ace." He chuckled nervously, "Don't get me wrong! I mean—you're beautiful in any way, but in that... A Goddess would be outshined in your presence." You could swear the room had just turned a bit warmer and brighter at his words.

"Stop it–" you brushed him off.

"No, I mean it." That being the last dress you had to try on, Lucien got up from his seat, taking the basket with the clothes he'd approved and made his way towards you. His hand took yours gently, pulling you closer to himself, you were too busy trying to avert his gaze to notice the way he looked at you, the way he admired you. Trying to get your attention Lucien squeezed your hand, making you look up, for a moment you both just stared at each other, then he lifted your hand and made you turn slowly.

"Yeah, we're definitely taking this one." Lucien didn't give you time to be embarrassed, placing his hand on the small of your back and guiding you to the shoes section.

𓂃

"What?" His question was whispered under his breath, his sore throat made his voice rougher than it usually was.

"For a few minutes we–" Rhysand exhaled another shaky breath, "we lost you. You died." He waited for Azriel to show any reaction before caressing his mind with careful talons. Azriel allowed him with no more than just a blink.

"Az? Azriel!" Rhysand tried to shake him awake, feeling his brother's frigid skin made him recoil. "No..."

"Rhys? What's– Oh Gods, no, no, no!" Cassian pushed the High Lord aside, gathering Azriel in his arms and walking out in hurried steps. Being careful not to bang his wings, long legs or head against the door and walls.

He knew he hadn't checked Azriel's pulse or breathing, and refused to look down at his bare chest to know for sure, but he only had one thing in his mind at the moment, finding help. He would do anything to make sure his brother would live, but he knew he couldn't help him in this situation, and he also knew how Rhysand felt on death threatening occasions, so he went to the only other place that could give Azriel the type of help he needed.

Madja was always ready for anything, there was never a day or night where she wasn't able to help. Whatever it was, she always had the solution for it.

Until now.

"I am so sorry, High Lord!" she seemed as desperate as they were, "It seems his body is fighting something, he has symptoms of an allergy reaction, his organism reacted badly to something and is now trying to reject it. But I can't tell what and if I can't tell... then there's nothing I can do..." her eyes were filled with moisture, she couldn't meet anyone's gaze and wouldn't tear hers away from Azriel.

"We can't just sit here..." Cassian pondered, something came to his head and he glanced at Rhysand, noticing how he seemed to be on the verge of panic he stepped closer, "Brother, look at me! He's not going to die, you hear me?! Azriel's not going to die!" Cassian shook him, calling to him in his mind, showing him what he was thinking.

𓂃

Four drinks in and you couldn't take it anymore, it'd been so long since you've gotten drunk that you weren't sure if you knew how to handle alcohol, Lucien didn't seem like he'd stop any time soon. Now you realized how spoiled Rhysand had gotten you, unintentionally or not. You were used to his wine and the drinks at Rita's, which paled in comparison to what they had in Day. A little part of you that hadn't come out in so long, slowly slipped to the surface, new ideas about trying the rest of the unusual drinks or roaming the city trying a drink from each bar you could find filled your head.

"Didn't you like it? We can try another." Lucien tapped your arm with his fingers, bringing your attention to him.

"No, this one's fine," you took a sip of the coloured drink trying to make a point, grimacing as you did.

Lucien grinned, "Yeah? Then I'll get another–"

"No!" Your hand shot up to hold his arm when he moved to stand, his face told you you'd have to give him a good excuse if you wanted him to sit back down. You groaned and let go of him, your fingers lightly pushed the drink away. "It's not bad–Really! it isn't! It's just... I'm not used to drinks this strong." You muttered the last part, hoping he wouldn't catch.

"Sorry, what was that?" He leaned close, one of his hands cupping his ear. You rolled your eyes.

"I said, I'm not used to drinks this strong." Lucien cooed at you.

"Aw, baby! You could've told me!" the hand that cupped his ear fell to your back, gently patting and rubbing you, you waited for the moment he'd mock you, "I would've asked for a warm cup of milk–"

A loud smack echoed. Just in time for your hand to make contact with his arm, the talking and music quieted. A few faes turned to glance at you both, raised eyebrows and hushed whispers, your cheeks heated up at the embarrassment consuming you. Lucien threw his head back and barked out a laugh that had your head falling against the table with a tud, you wanted to cave a hole right there and bury yourself in it, only coming out centuries later when everyone had forgotten it, including yourself.

𓂃

"Thank you." Rhysand breathed out, after seeing some color return to Azriel's face he felt like he could properly breathe again, "Really, I'll be in debt with you for the rest of my life." Those were dangerous words for a High Lord like him, and still he pronounced them clearly, it was a promise.

"No need. You're my friend and I'm glad to help." Helion patted his arm and left after a brief nod in Cassian's direction, wanting to give them the privacy to be vulnerable. Cassian immediately took it, crossing the room and pulling Rhysand into a tight hug.

"He's okay, he's okay." He repeated. Rhys hummed against his neck in response.

Now that the worst part was over, that he was sure Azriel would live, the brutality of the situation hit him. Azriel almost died and Elain was behind it. He wondered if she knew what she did, if that was her intention from the beginning or if it was an accident. He wondered why. Even though he hated the idea, he thought she loved him, thought they loved each other, enough so that Azriel defied him. But this... this wasn't love. Her reasons to do it didn't matter.

Rhysand hated himself for failing his brother, but he hated her more. He wanted to go back to the House of Wind and make Elain pay, perhaps giving her the drug she had given Azriel and see what happened, a strong Illyrian male survived, with the right help, he wondered how a simple high fae would take it, alone.

While embraced in strong loving arms, Rhysand fantasized about the female who almost killed his brother, who threatened his family. Wild fantasies of her in extreme pain, deadly worry, agonizing her last breath filled his mind. He wondered if Azriel would want a turn with her, if he'd want to make her pay for almost ending his life, for taking away his choice, for destroying the life he'd built with you.

Ace. He had to tell you, even if you ended up ignoring him, even if it didn't change anything for you, you should know. But he had something to do first.

𓂃

Coming back to the inn felt like a dream. With merry eyes that place was heavenly. You didn't remember getting ready for bed but the oversized shirt you wore and lack of makeup on your face showed you had. After doing your morning routine, you left your room. You assumed Lucien was still asleep given that there weren't any sounds coming from the hallway, so with quiet steps you made your way to the kitchen, only to find the table already set.

You were too busy munching on a piece of bread to notice the presence behind you. Two fingers jabbing into your ribs and a weirdly attractive 'morning' uttered by your ear made you jump, the squeak the chair let out mixed with your yelp. When your heartbeat stopped deafening your ears, you heard Lucien howling.

"The bread!" He wheezed. You watched him with narrowed eyes but after understanding what he had said, you started searching for it. "Cei–" he tried to say something only to start laughing again.

"What?" You frantically searched for the bread and still there was no trace of it, glancing back at Lucien you noticed his finger pointing up. The piece of bread had stuck to the ceiling above your head, the splashes of jam started falling as you looked up. A weird wet sound and the smack of bread on the table had Lucien barking out laughter.

Someone knocking interrupted your silly moment, Lucien wiped the tears in his eyes and walked to the front door. The silence that followed was awkward, there was no sound after the door opened, no greetings. A few seconds later you got curious and decided to go see who it was, as you walked closer Lucien asked what was wrong, you would've waited fro the other person to speak if you hadn't caught a glimpse of black. As you fully turned the corner, violet eyes drifted to you.

There was something in him that just felt unsettling. Rhysand seemed disturbed, and you hoped it had nothing to do with you.

"I need to talk to you." His voice was quiet, worrying you even more. You nodded and Lucien invited him in, closing the door behind him.

"I'll be in my room if you need me." He walked away after a brief look at you.

You took Rhysand to the living room, pointing for him to sit before taking the other side of the couch. The High Lord leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, his fingers fidgeting.

"I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm going to show you," he hesitantly turned to face you, "if you allow me."

"Okay." Even if it had something to do with you, it was bad enough to make Rhysand nervous, and that wasn't good.

Images of the last three days filled your mind. Azriel's pale body limp and Cassian gathering him would haunt you forever. Seeing Rhysand's inner turmoil, Cassian fighting to stay composed for his brothers sake, the Archeron sisters yelling at each other, Mor and even Amren looking troubled, it was all too much for you. Minutes after the memories ended you still hadn't pronounced a word, there was not a single indication of what you were thinking or feeling.

"Helion helped heal him, Madja wasn't able to so we brought him here. We would've taken him to Dawn but given that it was a potion, we couldn't risk losing time only to be met with no solution, and since there's not a spell Helion doesn't know, it was a wise decision." With a glance in his direction, you noticed how he nodded absentmindedly, his voice quiet as if he was talking more to himself. "It was Cassian."

The thought of Cassian poisoning Azriel sounded horrifying and the most unrealistic thing ever, "What?!" It was a loud whisper, you would've yelled if your voice hadn't failed you, almost muted from shock.

"No! Gods, no! I'm sorry I made it sound like that, I meant that it was Cassian's idea to bring him here. He took over when I couldn't think straight..."

"Thank the Mother," you breathed out, relief overtaking you for a moment before another thought came to mind, "but, who was it?" you hesitated for a moment, Azriel couldn't have poisoned himself accidentally, and the thought of someone close to him doing that, was terrifying. If someone had the guts to harm The Spymaster of the Night Court, they were either out of their mind, or the most threatening person to enter that court in centuries.

"Elain." Your stomach dropped, that uncomfortable sensation of shock filled you, Elain!?

Out of everything your mind could have come up with, Elain harming Azriel wouldn't be one of them. Up until a few seconds ago you still thought they loved each other, thought she wanted him badly enough to push her mate aside, thought he wanted her badly enough to throw you away and go against his brother to be with her. She had him, how could she harm him like that? Why?

"When Azriel was stable, I went to interrogate her, to know exactly what her intention was." He started when he noticed you were lost in thought. "It was a love potion. She had been cultivating passionflower for months now, its tea is used to treat insomnia, anxiety and pain. but apparently it's also used on love potions. So every time she pretended to help him ease his anxiety and sleep better, she was also drugging him into being in love with her." You uttered some curse words under your breath, Rhysand nodded in agreement before continuing. "She was using the flower petals and concentrated syrup on the cakes and pastries she gave him, saying it was a new recipe or just a form of payment for his help. According to her, three nights ago Azriel started acting differently, she could see the way his behavior drifted from being obsessed and lustful to disgust and indifference, so she thought it'd be a good idea to triple the tea's dose. The thing is, Az already had a decent amount of it in his system, he just wasn't reacting to it, and after the triple dose... It made him relax and sleep as intended, but when he drifted off, his heartbeat slowed way more than normal and it only got worse. The soreness he was feeling from the past few days turned into extreme pain, the beating Cassian and I gave him, his wing... It all made him too sensitive, the bruises turned red and angry like closed wounds or rashes. He managed to wake up somehow," Rhysand gave a humorless laugh, "and he called me... when I found him..." he drifted off, for sure reliving the moment behind his closed eyelids.

"Rhys..." you tried to find what to say, but nothing came up, you couldn't think straight. Your lower lip trembled, your eye stinging with tears that you couldn't keep from falling. A hand rested over your shaky one, his body shifting closer to you, his other hand bringing you to lean on his chest, planting a kiss to the side of your head before resting his against you and letting his own tears fall.

"I know it's a lot to take in... it was for me too." He breathed shakily in and out. "I took care of her, Az is safe, no one will hurt him again. It's okay." He kept uttering words to comfort you both.

You didn't know what to think. Azriel hadn't chosen her, he didn't love her, didn't push you aside because he stopped loving or wanting you. It made sense now why he seemed so intrigued when you mentioned breaking up, why his change was so sudden, why you didn't recognize him. The Azriel you broke up with wasn't the same Azriel you had fallen in love with, and at the same time that it relieved a horrible weight off of your chest, it also laid another. Because even if it wasn't your fault, you hated yourself for not seeing it earlier, for leaving him and giving her the chance to have him, and more so for even for a brief moment, wanting Lucien.

"You couldn't have known." You immediately closed off your mind and pushed away from his chest, refusing to meet Rhysand's eyes. "I'm not judging you, I wouldn't ever do that. I hate myself too for not seeing it, I knew he was different but I was just so pissed that I didn't even consider... I'm sure that the Azriel we know wouldn't judge you either. And, can I tell you something?" His hands were still holding yours and rubbing your back.

"Yeah." You still refused to look at him, your cheeks tinged with shame, Rhysand lifted your chin, his face showed no signs of bad emotions anymore, and if you dared guess, it showed hope.

"First I want you to know I'm not prompting you to do anything, I just want you to acknowledge the truth, you don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. Again, I'm not going to judge you." He waited until you understood and nodded before speaking. "Azriel never loved Elain. His heart belongs to you... his soul belongs to you."

You tilted your head in question, wondering why he looked at you so intrigued. Of course, hearing that Azriel never loved another from someone else's mouth comforted you, showed that you weren't so wrong in assuming.

"Sweetheart–" he opened his mouth to continue but closed quickly after, thinking for a moment before meeting your eyes with a newfound determination, "Elain only resorted to that because she knew she was losing time, she couldn't make him fall for her naturally, and she knew she wouldn't have the chance to do it if Azriel found out." Rhysand shook his head when he noticed you didn't have a clue of what he was saying, his talons caressed you mind wanting to show you. It was a moment you didn't remember, and wouldn't ever because it didn't and wouldn't happen.

Both you and Azriel babysitting Nyx, who was snuggled in your arms, giggling from your fingers tickling his sides. Azriel watched the scene with adoring eyes, his shadows danced at the sound of your laughter, floating around you. The baby's back was turned to him, and the sight of his wings and black hair gave Azriel an image of what could be his future. His baby, giggling and snuggling with you, their eyes a copy of yours, nose the perfect mixture of you both, pointy ears half hidden behind black hair. Your eyes met his from behind his nephew's head, the light in them and your face glowing with happiness told him you were thinking the same. The love he cultivated behind his ribs bloomed, he could swear his heart pulsed so hard you could see it moving even hidden behind his shirt.

He watched you gently place Nyx down, making sure he entertained himself with some toys before making your way towards him. Azriel met you halfway, as always, locking his arms behind you and pulling you into his chest, your bodies fit perfectly.

"Can you imagine it?" You spoke softly.

"Yeah, I can." You could basically hear his smile.

Azriel pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to your head to make you look at him. Your eyes met hazel ones, the molten gold in his eyes, mingled with green and brown, glowed. The swirls they made resembled his shadows, you could spend hours staring into his irises and still they would fascinate you. Azriel blinked, when your eyes met this time, there was gold in yours too, a small thread growing brighter and brighter, his heart ached, a pull constricted his breath and he hissed, when your brows furrowed and your eyes watered, he knew you felt the same.

The thread became bigger and you finally felt your souls connected, Azriel's happiness was overwhelming, the tears fell. His forehead rested on yours, he sniffled and chuckled a moment later, shaking his head in astonishment.

"It's you..." he smiled, pulling back and caressing your face, "I always knew it was you." He whipped your tears while his own fell freely down his cheeks, your hands cupped his face, bringing him down for a kiss.

The memory ended and your heart broke. Seeing Azriel so close like that again, and so full of love, that was the male you knew and loved, knowing that perhaps you'd never get to experience that moment with him, absolutely wrecked you. Your throat tightened trying to hold back your sobs, fat tears rolled down your face, wetting your and Rhysand's shirt. 

Azriel was your mate. It was you he was tied to. Not Elain, not Mor. You.

Your mind provided you with a thousand possibilities of how your life could have been, if only Elain hadn't interfered. Your heart ached for him, for you, for the family you could've built. You still wanted him, it was too soon for you to have stopped wanting, but it was also too early to tell what was the right thing to do. Perhaps such a thing didn't exist, you both have always walked a thin line between right and wrong.

What confused you most was also longing for Lucien. Right when you decided that it wasn't wrong to want him, this happened. How could you feel so much want, and for different people? 

So you cried. For everything and everyone. For all the possible futures you could've had, and for the ones you still could have. For hatred, for love, for the blankness inside you. For not knowing if what you felt for Lucien was only lust. For still loving Azriel, enough that whatever happened with Elain didn't matter anymore, it wasn't his fault anyway. And most importantly, you cried for yourself. For the pain inflicted upon you, for the rough path you always had to walk, for the weight of the world that you carried on your shoulders everyday.

Rhysand didn't move, his arms never strayed from your trembling body. He never tried to stop your tears, he knew you had to get the pain out someway. He whispered gentle words right by your ear, everything he knew would help ease your worries and pain.

The tears stopped after a few minutes, Rhys didn't let go immediately, letting you make the first move and pull away first. After that you spent a little while thinking through your options, taking a moment to decide what you wanted. 

“Do you think–” you glanced at him to see his expression, “do you think he'll want to see me?” 

“What?!” Rhysand scoffed, “Sweetheart, of course he'll want to see you.” 

This trip was supposed to be relaxing, a time for you to not think of everything that happened. Lucien has asked you to come with him, to be there for him. You knew that he'd be okay with you going to see Azriel, because that's just the way he was, he would put himself aside to make sure his friends were happy, nevermind that his own happiness was just as important.

If someone deserves happiness, a happy ending, it's him. Lucien overworked so he wouldn't notice how alone he was, he used to avoid going home before you went to live with him. You both had become so much closer in the past few days, taking care of each other, having more fun than you've had in years. 

You weighed your options, you could stay with him and continue with your original plans, you could go see Azriel out of respect for the time you spent together and worry for the male you loved, you could just send a letter, and you could go back to him, because none of what happened was his fault.

“I need some time to think.”

Taglist: @going-through-shit @crazylokonugget @meritxellao @cleverzonkwombatsludge @paintedbyshadows @mp-littlebit @rcarbo1 @that-one-little-soybean @scatteredstardustt @littlepippilongstocking @lorosette @minnieoo @hailqueenconquer @azriels-shadowsinger @blessthepizzaman @chelsiemp @saltedcoffeescotch @thestartitaness @historygeekqueen @sillyfreakfanparty @entr4p3 @warmdragonfly @clementine111002 @azriel-shadowsingerr @amiime @anuttellaa @loulou0101 @acourtofbatboydreams @xmalfoyweasleyx @anna-reader-blog @melmo567 @buttermilktea11 @helo1281917 @thelov3lybookworm @cazrielsfairygf @hanatsuki-hime @st4r-girl-official @feiwelinchen @fhgsvbnh

[josephandrewstarkey]

Heyyyy ! Could you do Drew and reader first time … after being a couple for like two months?

ofc!! tysm for your request anon!! 💋

worth the wait

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! smut, cussing

words: 869

❧ drew starkey x reader

It had been two blissful months since Y/N and Drew had started dating, but from the beginning, they had taken things slow. Their relationship had grown from deep conversations and laughter-filled moments into something beautiful and meaningful. Y/N had made it clear early on that she wasn’t ready to rush into anything physical, and Drew had been nothing but understanding, patient, and respectful of her boundaries.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have their moments of closeness—there had been plenty of kisses, late-night cuddles, and the quiet intimacy of just being in each other’s company—but they hadn’t crossed that line yet. There had been no pressure, no rush—just the steady build of trust and connection.

But tonight was different.

Y/N had spent the day preparing, her mind made up. She had gone shopping and picked out something special—lingerie that made her feel confident and beautiful. She wanted to show Drew how much he meant to her, how much she trusted him, and tonight, she felt ready.

As Drew walked into the room, he froze at the sight of her standing there, illuminated by the soft light of the bedside lamp. She was wearing the lingerie, a delicate set of lace that hugged her curves in all the right places. His breath hitched, eyes widening in surprise and awe.

“Wow,” he whispered, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving hers. “You look… incredible.”

Y/N felt her heart race as she smiled nervously, but the warmth in his eyes reassured her. She bit her lip, taking a deep breath before finally saying the words that had been on her mind all day. “I’m ready, Drew.”

His expression softened immediately, any trace of surprise replaced by tenderness. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch as light as a feather. “Are you sure?” His voice was low, full of care and concern.

She nodded, her eyes locked on his. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Drew’s hand moved to cradle her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. “I want this to be perfect for you,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ll go slow. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Y/N smiled at his words, her heart swelling with even more love for him. “I know. That’s why I’m ready. Because it’s you.”

He kissed her softly then, his lips warm and reassuring. Slowly, they moved toward the bed, and Drew kept his promise—he was gentle, every touch slow and deliberate. He treated her with such care, like she was something fragile and precious, always checking in, making sure she was okay.

Y/n’s hand reached his erection, slowly massaging it. And before she knew it his boxers were off. His thick, long cock springing out, slapping against his stomach. She stared at it— shocked at the sight in front of her.

“Drew. That’s never going to fit.” she mumbled, looking up at him.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it fit.” he muttered while pressing kisses against her neck, his fingers running through the soft strands of her hair. She moved to take her panties off, she needed him— badly.

“Drew. Please.” she moaned— eagerly waiting for him. He lined his cock at her entrance, rubbing his tip against her clit. Making her cry out. And without warning he pushed into her, his large wood stretching her out.

“fuck, so tight baby” he groaned in her ear, his arms wrapped around her neck as he started pounding in and out of her. He was so rough yet so gentle.

A loud whimper escaped y/n’s throat as he started rubbing her clit. The hand that was just wrapped around her neck was now covering her mouth, muffling any noise as he started pounding harder and harder into her, his hips snapping against her fast and hard enough to bruise.

Her body singing to his tune, as she was driven higher and higher. Each thrust bringing a delicious tension to her. Each string of her body thrumming in perfect time and pitch, getting closer to that breaking point she knew was coming.

Eyes closed to focus on the growing heat. She was surprised when his hand moved to cup her chin and she felt the delicate press of his mouth against hers.

He shoved his tongue into her mouth, it was magical. She ran her hands along his back feeling his strong muscles shift under her touch as he pulled her closer.

It was all too much, and with a strangled shout of his name she fell to pieces. Shaking violently in his arms, the pleasure drowning everything. As she felt him stutter to a halt, he quickly pulled his cock out as he released all over her stomach.

“fuck” he moaned as he fell on top of her. Their breaths mingling together— his face pressed into her hair, soft words of love being murmured as his breathing began to slow.

Afterward, they lay together in the quiet, Drew’s arms wrapped securely around her. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her close. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair.

Y/N smiled, her heart still fluttering. “I love you too.”

And in that moment, as they lay in each other’s arms, Y/N knew that waiting had been worth it. Drew had made their first time together everything she had hoped for—and more.

[delirious-donna]

The Cat Who Got The Cream [Kuroo Tetsuro]

an: Kuroo deserves to be rewarded for everything he does to make you feel special, and nothing will stop you from worshipping him (there isn't a thing I wouldn't do for this man tbf)

pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x female reader

warnings: oral sex, hand humping, just pure smut

Masterlist

He tasted annoyingly good. Smoky whisky notes mixed perfectly with the slight cinnamon spice from the dessert you had not long shared. His taste tingled your tastebuds, your mouth salivating in anticipation whilst your patience was shredded down to bare threads.

Your mouth slanted in want and Kuroo deepened the kiss in retaliation. He licked at the swell of your bottom lip in a faux act of requesting permission, he knew from the way you squirmed against him that you were just as needy as he was. With a breathless chuckle, the wet muscle curled past your teeth to invade your mouth, stroking your tongue in slow, languid movements that had you moaning into the shared space.

The quiet of your bedroom room was broken only by the sinful mewls that crawled from your throat, matched in urgency by deep groans from Kuroo’s strong chest. Your fingers danced over the space covering his heart, delighting in how it was racing beneath your fingertips, in how he was flexing and pressing into your touch wherever he could reach. It made you smile against his mouth, the hot lust evident in the air that thickened overhead.

This was far from the first time you had been intimate, but it felt somehow different tonight, charged with electric potency of an animalistic breed. It was hotter than a bubbling spring and your skin reacted with the steady march of goosebumps as if a spider walked down your spine.

“Tetsu…” You whimpered, breaking for air and trembling from the lick of his tongue against the roof of your mouth which left a thin webbing of saliva connecting your lips.

“Mm. Need something, pretty girl?”

Long dextrous fingers roamed the plush of your thighs, pressing against your denim jeans and you could tell that he was close to laying you atop the cool unrumpled sheets, close to pinning you beneath his strong body and taking matters into his own hands. You could feel the thick length of his erection, the outline hot and heavy against his thigh. Deliberately, your hips undulated to allow your pelvis to meet it.

Kuroo bit back a hiss, warm hazel eyes flaring with crackling sparks when the seam of your zipper caught against him. The seat of your underwear was sticky with arousal, melding to the heat of your labia and the way you let his clothed cock press against you felt practically criminal. You needed him fiercely—so fierce that you felt the first tickle of tears build behind your eyes. Except… he was always taking care of you and your needs.

You had never met a man like the one holding you right now. Protective, caring, handsome as hell, and funny. A perfect package, and you counted your blessings every day that he had fallen into your life. Memories of breakfasts in bed, unexpected flowers delivered to your workplace and those sweet, lingering kisses placed longing against your forehead whenever he left for work rose like surging tides. They brought with them, a swell of confidence.

Tetsuro watched you with curiosity, you’d swear his ears would twitch like a cat if they could. Those pretty hazel eyes studied your expression with a shy smile, one that you were unaccustomed to. Along with the pink blush creeping slowly up the sides of his neck and dusting the tops of his cheeks, you purred at his reaction.

“Wanna make you feel good. You’ll let me, won’t you, baby? Gonna stretch out and let me show you my appreciation for once,” you cooed, ghosting your lips against the cut of his jaw. You fisted the front of his crisp shirt, pleading with wide eyes although you knew he would give you the world right now.

Kuroo looked divine laid out on your bed, an arm tucked behind his messy raven hair and the other reached out to pet at you. He watched you with hunger burning in his gaze. Long black lashes fanned against the apples of his cheeks, fluttering shut only to snap open again. He didn’t want to miss a second of your smaller hand wrapped so perfectly around his leaking cock. With each eager pump of your fist, the foreskin rolled back to reveal a hot red tip slick with precum dribbling out to cover your fingers and his aching shaft.

His mouth gaped when your tongue peeked out—pink and perfect—to drag from the weeping tip to the very base and up again on the other side. Intrigued by every little twitch, the quiver of his toned abdomen and the way the tendons in his neck strained, you wriggled in the space between his thighs. Stripped down to your underwear, a hand pressed to your sex to relieve the need for friction. Not only were you teasing him with candy licks, but you also worked yourself into a frenzy with messy strokes against your swollen clit.

A wet slurp rang out, clear and lewd. Saliva pooled in your mouth as you fed him deeper, drool lubricated his dick and clung to the stark veins that you tongued playfully, chest filling up with a puff of pride when he clutched your hair into a makeshift grip. Kuroo’s breathing fast became erratic, the rise and fall of his chest uneven and laboured but that only spurred you on you.  

“Oh, fuck—kitten. Slow… slow down,” he cried out, sounding out of breath and feverish.

Whilst you heard the concern lacing his request, born from his worry about you and your poor throat that you were slowly abusing with every inch you swallowed down, you refused to listen. You were simply addicted to the taste of him, drunk on his cock and drooling around him without a care. Where his mouth was warm and spicy, the heavy skin of his cock was musky with a tang of salt, uniquely masculine and you willingly gagged on him over and over.

His eyebrows pinched, a crinkle above his nose and he threw his head back against the pillows. It was impossible to keep his hips still, they rose unbidden to fuck your perfect little mouth. Slurring his words in between moans at the wet slick of your lips wrapped around him. The sight was heaven, lust-glazed eyes met yours as you lost yourself in the feel of him.

“Goddamn, sweetheart. Mm… taking me like a fuckin’ champ. That’s it, keep doing that!”

You cupped his heavy balls in your palm, huffing through your nose when he whimpered softly. Black spikes of hair fell into his eyes, perfectly dishevelled and coming apart by your mouth and hand. It sent pulses of pleasure shooting straight through your clit, explorative fingers jerking to a stop when you rutted shamelessly against your hand.

His orgasm was fast approaching, the swollen balls you rolled between fingers and thumb drawing tight to the base of his cock whilst the warm drip of pleasure built at the base of his spine. Kuroo gritted his teeth, determined not to spill down your throat yet. He had a request, one final thing he wanted to see again before he shot his creamy load into your mouth.

“Kitten, open up for me. Lemme see you swallow me down once more. Fuck… yeah, gonna turn that pink tongue of yours white.”

Your jaw slackened, releasing his cock and marvelling at the webbed saliva that strung between him and you. Licking through the mess, you grinned and pressed a wet slurping kiss to the salty pearls still escaping his slit.

“Fuck my mouth, Tetsuro… make me choke,” you begged hoarsely.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Kuroo guided you back to where he needed you most, a groan vibrating from his chest until it escaped through parted lips as you took him into the paradise of your mouth. The heat curled around him, tongue lolling out when he lodged into the soft tissue of your throat. Drool seeped over the seam of his tight balls, the mess dripping to the sheets below moments before he lost himself to the suction and swallow of the muscles around his cock.

Hot ropes of cum painted the length of your throat, and you joined him in his orgasm. You fucked the ridge of your hand, wet moans gurgling around him, and he pulled you off enough to see the remaining spend collect on your tongue. A rough thumb wiped at the cum trying to escape your lips, moving it back inside whilst you blinked through blissed-out eyes.

“Uh uh. Swallow it all, baby. Can’t let it go to waste,” he chided affectionately.

“Gotta stop smiling like that, kitten. You look like the cat who got all the cream…”

How right he was.

[sunvylovebug]

Flowers

↬ Warnings: No warnings, soft and fluffy content with the butler for you …⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ

↬ Gender Neutral!Reader, they/them pronouns and third person narration (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

↬ Author Note: Ever since I saw Lycaon I want to give him a big hug. Not fair, I want this too.

↬ Summary: Spring brings with it beautiful things. One of them is the many flowers that begin to bloom in the fields. Flowers that, among many other things, serve to adorn the soft fur of the butler.

↬ Word Count: 548 Words

His white fur is so soft, so silky and so warm that it is impossible not to want to run the fingers through it, as if it were a comfortable cotton blanket in which it's possible to get lost for hours, caressing it gently, enjoying it with enthusiasm, and it's also impossible not to want to admire it when he wears that soft smile and a calm expression.

Lycaon's head would be very comfortable in his Master's lap, with closed eyes he would lose himself in the comfort and after repeatedly assuring him that everything would be fine, he would allow himself to take a nap. In their hands, Lycaon's Master held some small wildflowers full of vibrant colors and soon all of them would be carefully planted in a different part of those silky white locks.

It was the perfect afternoon. The birds singing, the sound of running water, the faint rays of sunlight passing through the leaves of the trees gently swaying in the spring breeze, the pleasant smell of the air and the various little animals roaming around. All these elements made that little moment together so peaceful, tender and relaxing.

When Lycaon wakes up, he feels the little bristles on the flower stems lightly scratching his skull and he smiles with some confusion. "What are you decorating my fur for, Master?"

"Nothing special Lycaon, I just thought those little flowers would look good on you and I wasn't wrong.... You look pretty" Master replied as Lycaon slipped his arms under his Master's knees and back to press them against his toned chest to then press a gentle kiss against their forehead.

The soft white furred man was extremely happy about the many flowers his Master decorated him with, so much so that he'd even allow himself to lose a bit of composure and wag his tail from side to side in an obvious display of happiness. Lycaon would take pride in whatever his Master gave him, even if it took away that serious, professional and intimidating appearance he used to have due to his features and imposing presence.

Then he would put one of his favorite flowers on his Master's ear, excusing himself with a "It's to keep a part of me with you", that was the first thing he thought to justify it and if you think about it, it's a very good reason. Thanks to it he'd seen one of the nicest smiles on the Master's face while they thanked him before placing some kisses all over his face.

As the sunset starts to peek with all its pretty and vibrant colors, Lycaon walks past Rina, he had the pretty flowers in his hair and that's enough to make the maid look at him with a little smile that carries a mix of tenderness and playfulness.

She giggled a little, that sight was not something very common to see. "You look good Lycaon."

"Thank you." His tail would gently swish from side to side as he walked around the mansion, performing any of the many tasks that required his personal care.

Lycaon and his Master would spend several of the spring days like this, spending a lot of time together, enjoying each other's company, among flowers, smiles, and the gentle spring breeze.

[yaut-jaknowit]

Naww funny asf idea you might like, the reader having a thing for their male yautjas chest, you know overall like “BOOBIES, THE TIDDIES” and their mate just having to put up with their shenanigans

(Don’t forget to stay hydrated🫵)

Boobies, Yes

Pairing: Wolf x Reader

Word Count: 1808

Summary: A menace, a daring menace. That's what you are. Any chance you're given, you attack. How can you resist? They're right there! Your hands need to hold them. They look so heavy for your Yautja.

Author Note: This, this is gold. Tiddies are the best, no matter one who or what. Muscle or not, Yautjas have great boobies. Thank you for this wonderful ask.

Masterlist

Ao3

How could you ignore them? Especially when they’re right there! Even though Wolf was leaner compared to a few of his hunting buddies, he had enough to grab. You snickered quietly as you eyed up the lethal Yautja sitting in his pilot’s chair. He was none the wiser as you stood off to the side. Well, you believed he didn’t know you were there. But this is Wolf we’re talking about. He scented you the moment you entered the room.

One of the things he taught you from the time you’ve stayed with him, you were able to step lightly as you snuck over to him. You kept behind him, bare feet not making a sound on the warm metal floors. A poised hunter, trained from one of the best.

The chair sat about three feet in front of you. This was your chance! You took a step to the right, ready to spring around it and surprise Wolf.

“What do you think you’re doing, little hunter?” The question hung in the air. You tensed up, muscles freezing up. Damn… You stayed where you were, hoping he’ll just brush it by. ‘Hope’ that won’t do much for you in the situation. Wolf said your name, not a warning or anything. He just spoke it.

Air pushed out of your nostrils as airy scoff. Finally, you stepped out from behind the chair and relinquished your hiding spot. Wolf sat relaxed in his seat, one elbow resting on the arm rest. His other limb was messing with a screen. By the looks of it, he was checking his messages. As one of the greatest hunters out there, he was quite busy.

Wolf’s eyes glanced at you for a moment. The Yautja held a nonchalant gaze when he looked at. “What are you doing?” You placed a hand on his unused arm rest and leaned a little in. A playful grin growing on your smug face. You didn’t try to hide it once of ever.

“Oh nothing, nothing at all.” A total lie but he had no idea. Probably. Your eyes flickered down. Target acquired.

Today was a relaxing day. All Wolf was wearing was his loin cloth a leather shoulder guard. The leather band went over his chest and up his shoulder. He was free to show off his body that you loved. You were happy to drink it in. But that’s not why you were standing next to him. There was a special part you were after.

A scaled brow was raised slightly. His gaze was still on the screen before him, pointer finger flicking through messages. Wolf hummed his suspicion at your retort.

Perfect. The grin on your face widened more. Then you attacked. Your free hand surged forward and latched onto one of the pecs of Wolf. You squeezed, the muscle for the second soft, not being flexed. The very next second, they were rock solid in your grasp.

A massive, calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, easily swallowing it up. The limb tugged you forward towards Wolf. Instantly, you gulped and laughed softly, almost nervously.

Deep down, you don’t know how this alien tolerates your antics, but he does.

Said Yautja leaned in close, hot breath fanning over your skin. “What do you think you’re doing?” he reilerated and emphasized by pulling on your limb to get you even closer. Wolf flicked his upper mandible. It brushed against your cheek.

You kept that grin plastered on your features. “What do you mean?” you asked of him oh-so innocently. All of that was a lie.

Wolf huffed then his eye glanced down at your hand still holding his pec. You still pretended to not know what he’s referring to. This is what you loved about him. One of the many things you loved about Wolf. He let this happen. He let you fool around – safely of course.

Since you hadn’t moved the limb, Wolf flexed his muscle you were holding onto. He left it untensed once he was done showing off. This was a new opportunity. Your hand squeezed it again. You giggled excitingly. Afterwards, you were able to remove Wolf’s hand on you and walk off.

The entire interaction confused Wolf. He let you go though and returned to the screen before him. An amused smile on his face as he shook his head. Whatever will he do with you?

.

That was the first time you’ve done but it wasn’t the last. It’ll never be the last! No matter how many times you do it to him, no matter what he wears, your hands find his boobies. Soft, velvet skin continuous met the palm of your small hands. After so many tries, you’ve lost count of the successes. Not that it matters though. Mostly.

This time consist of a drive-by. Multiple success in one day. Four in total. Time to make it five.

Your feet carried you swiftly down the main hall. Wolf was lifting himself out of his chair and strolling down the same hall as you. Since the atmosphere of the ship is to his liking, he can freely discard his biomask. In conclusion, you could see his eyes closely watching you. It was like Wolf already knew what was to happen. There was suspicion floating in his eyes.

Careful steps lead towards your known target. Each one counted down. Wolf tried to keep a wide berth but he can’t escaped you. Not when he’s trained to be a hunter like him.

“Boobies!” you shouted and grasped his free pec lightning fast. One squish and you were racing down the hall away from him, towards the cockpit. Sometimes he’ll give chase after you. Other’s – like this time – he’ll stop, turn to face your direction, and quirk a brow. Nothing will be said in exchange. He’ll just watch you, trying to hide the minute smile on his alien face. But you’ve spotted it, twice. He likes this game you rope him into playing. Different, fun, and seeing you smile, that’s what matters to him greatly.

.

This incident consisted of the two of you back on Yautja Prime. Though, considered dangerous for you, a ooman. No one dared laid finger on you. Not when you smelled like Wolf or when he was around you. Many barely gave you a glance before giving you the space Wolf silently demanded. All the males, of course did this. The females, they were different. Thankfully, not many of them were out today in the shopping district of Wolf’s hometown.

While in the public’s eye, Wolf wasn’t the most friendly. As one of the most deadly hunter’s out there, he had to keep up his image.  With that in mind, Wolf couldn’t be touchy-touchy with you. No holding hands, not even a hand on your shoulder. That didn’t stop you from being extremely close with Wolf. Like any hunter, he knew the dangers of his own planet. You were kept in front of him at all times.

Wolf corralled you towards a vendor he was needing to visit. It was easy to keep you contained. Once the two of you arrived, Wolf began to speak to the other alien. You were expected to stay between Wolf and the table. The safest place to be. And that’s where you stayed, mostly peacefully.

The vendor’s table didn’t have much that interested yourself, computer components by the looks of it. You looked at what they had before quickly losing interest. Instead, you turned around to face Wolf. He had his biomask on, a way to hide his emotions better. But you could read his body language plainly.

Standing in front of him, about to his midriff, you couldn’t contain your smirk. It was your precursor to your actions. Your hand grabbed at his pec once again and squeezed. The Yautja didn’t even move or flex the muscle. You huffed and fake fell towards him. Now, your face buried between his glorious boobs. Mmm, best place to be!

Now, your Yautja stiffened slightly, spine tensing but he did nothing more than that. You happily stayed there. Wolf didn’t do anything with his hands. He let them hang at his sides, though his fingers did twitch. Not that you saw or even felt them move.

After the two of you were done at the vendor, Wolf stepped back. You weren’t expecting this and stumbled since your weight was pressed into him. He placed a hand on your shoulder for one moment to catch you. Then it fell away back to Wolf’s side. He turned around and started walking away. This sort of thing wasn’t unnatural out in public. You don’t take any offense to his actions out here. That didn’t stop you from teasing him. All with a smirk on your face.

He stalked away like a predator, like the hunter he is. You were quick to scramble after him, a pep in your step.

.

Two perfectly shaped breasts just sitting there. All of this has been going on for weeks. And it won’t stop. You couldn’t help but snicker quietly as you walked alongside Wolf in the ship. Dinner had been prepared. He had come to get you so the two of you could eat.

As the pair of you made their way into the kitchen, you spun on your heel and stopped in front of Wolf. He paused as well, head tilted down to look at your smaller frame. A brow was quirked up. Recognition flashed in his eyes. Yet, Wolf didn’t move. You giggled. Immediately, you placed a hand on his exposed pec and squeezed. You leaned in and stood on your tippy-toes. This was Wolf though, he stood far too tall for you to press a kiss to his mandible.

The wall met your back, a hand cushioned the back of your skull. Then, that limb pinned your hip. The other hand was firmly wrapped around your neck, promptly pinning you to the wall as well. You gasped harshly and stared up at Wolf in shock. Nevertheless, your fingers still grasping his chest.

Wolf leaned down, warm breath fanning over your face. Dark tresses creating a half circle curtain around us. His three mandibles twitching, dark eyes scanning over your features before locking onto your eyes. The upper fang caressed your cheek bone. “Are you going to continue doing that?” he growled. Internally, you knew that didn’t have a single bite in it.

You stretched out your neck to be closer to him. “Yes.”

Dinner was forgotten about.

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Soft Yandere Simp with CamGirl Reader, part 2

3, 2, 1, FINALLY IT’S TIME! He can hardly contain himself as he counts down the days until he finally gets to meet you in person. 

During your nightly video chats with him, which he’s grown to cherish dearly, you brought the idea of meeting up to his attention. You have no idea how happy he was that you brought it up on your own accord! 

Through some shady research, he already knows you are about 3 hours away from his home-city. It wouldn’t hurt to drive your way. He’d row a damn boat for hours if it meant getting to see you in person. 

The two of you decide on meeting up for a picnic, and then a shopping date at the mall closest to your vicinity. 

The night before the designated meetup, he sits at his computer desk studying everything he had learned about you over the past couple of months, lest he forgets something important.

He wishes he had a perfect memory, but he doesn’t. So he opted to writing down every fact he had ever learned about you in a special journal, dedicated to you and only you. All your likes, dislikes, blood type, height, weight (all three of which he had to break into your medical records to find) , favorite games, health issues, the amount of freckles on your face—every little detail he knew about you was written down, along with many, MANY hearts and grade-school doodles because he really can’t help it. You make him feel like a giddy kid again. 

Saturday morning. It’s show-time. He leaves thirty minutes early, dressed up and ready to tackle the day and meet the love of his life for the first time. He shoots you a text when he arrives (Did he ever mention his background screen was a photo of you?), nervously standing at your doorstep with a box of your favorite chocolates in hand, as well as a little vase with succulents in it, since you’re allergic to the pollen in actual flowers. 

You greet him with a hug and he just about melts in your arms, taking in your scent and rubbing his face into your beautiful locks. 

You’re pretty on camera, but nothing beats the real thing. You’re simply a goddess in the human form. He wishes he could take a photo to capture this moment forever, but his eyes will have to make do.

The drive to the park is an awkwardly quiet, but serene one. He swears you might be able to hear his heart pounding the entire ride, despite the music playing in the background (a playlist he made dedicated to you, obviously). When he glances over to the passenger seat, you’re gazing out the window with the cutest little smile on your face. He’s happy you’re happy. 

When the two of you arrive, he opens the trunk and removes all the supplies he brought to ensure today’s picnic would be great. He brought a giant blanket for the occasion, a small speaker for music, and even packed sandwiches and cookies that he had made himself, praying to god they would taste good. He wasn’t the greatest cook, so he watched about five different baking videos on how to make the perfect cookies. He hopes Youtube hasn’t failed him yet. 

He silently thanks whatever god lives in the sky when you take a bite into a cookie and compliment his baking skills. You take another bite and moan, making him feel ten times hotter than the warm spring day already made him feel. 

30 minutes pass and both his and your bellies are full. You lay down on the blanket, inviting him to do the same, and he nervously lays next to you. He relaxes once you intertwine your fingers with his. He thinks he’s never felt more at peace than in this moment, relaxing with you. The two of you talk about random things, watching the clouds in the sky morph into various shapes as time passes. 

Eventually, you both pack up and head to the mall. You buy him a figure from his favorite video game, and he gets you a new set of earrings. You laugh when his face turns fully red as you two walk into a store specializing in lingerie. 

He feels like he might faint from the sheer intense feelings he has when you ask him to pick something out, ‘just for his eyes only’ you say with a whisper into his ear. 

If he didn’t have such good self control he’d bang you in the try-on rooms right then and there. But no. He’d be a gentlemen. 

But be prepared for all his pent up longing when you two finally share an intimate time together. Let’s just say he has…plenty in store for you :) 

The date ends with you being dropped off back home. You invite him in for a drink, and chat a little more before it becomes late. He finds your yawns adorable, and he kisses you on the forehead before heading out for the night. 

He sincerely hopes you don’t ever find the tracking device he’s planted in your purse when you weren’t looking. He convinces himself it’s for peace of mind since he’ll know where you are, whenever you are. To protect you. That’s what good boyfriends do, right? 

Wait. Are you two even dating now? 

He wants to pull over on the drive home and just sit in utter defeat because his dumbass totally forgot to ask this. 

He sighs as he asks the dumbest, most cliche question in the world. He shoots you a text. 

“Hey, Y/N. What are we? (｀・ω・´)”

[savannahsdeath]

a part3 of -this- which im actually proud of ❈ dealer!ellie and reader in love but nothing's perfect . finally a rough part . got carried away but enjoy:3

warnings: ANGST mention of sex, language

the spring season brought the first warming breeze and blooming flowers to the land after the cold winter. the air was filled with the aroma of new blossoms and fresh grass. the sky was typically clear and blue with the occasional fluffy white clouds covering the bright sun. the days often got warmer, but some areas still experienced frosty nights. small animals such as bees and birds returned and chirped their familiar tunes.

spring was the time of rebirth and new beginnings.

you and your father met regularly over the past month. as time went on, your meetings became more and more enjoyable. you began to fill in the blanks and learn about each other, sharing memories and experiences. soon, these meetings became a regular part of your schedules. your relationship began to deepen as you got to know each other better. you started to share more intimate conversations and found comfort in that. your meetings became more than just catching up on life events - they became a source of strength and support for both of you. yet, you were rarely serious, since you started to notice your father’s playful sense of humor and found it endearing — how could ellie describe him as harsh?

right, ellie. she was just as captivating as your new-old parent's funny bone. she had a way of holding your attention and making you feel like nothing else mattered but her. you shared a connection that ran deeper than words could describe. your friendship grew as you bonded over your shared interests and passions — it turned out that she can be a nerd when it comes to dinosaurs. the more you learned about ellie, the more you were filled with a warm, tingling sensation that grew into something more.

until that one day — morning, to be exact. i won't beat around the bush — you fucked this night, and a few nights before, and a few more nights before that... but you didn't regret a thing. ellie could be more romantic than you guessed she is, but it was more than the physical connection between you that made these moments so special. there was a deep sense of intimacy and shared understanding between them - when your skin touched, it felt like you both are an unfinished sculpture, which melted into the other's undried clay limbs.

the gentle warmth of the sheets beneath you beckoned you up from your deep sleep, as if a stroke from the sun itself was caressing your skin. the warmth of your peaceful slumber was greeted with the golden glow of a new day. the embrace of the bed was like a sweet escape as you peered through your sleepy eyes at the sun rising outside your window. your eyes flickered. you noticed the lack of ellie's spirit and your hand ran over the empty part of bed to make sure she's not there, since your sense of sight wasn't trustworthy yet.

you heard her voice from the kitchen, and once you rubbed your eyes and squinted you identified her arm sticking out from around the corner. "tell her the truth," her voice was subdued and had a nervous, disbelieving undertone, "so that she would look at me through tears instead of seeing me as the love of her life?" a pause, during which the other person on the phone talked and you had time to memorize every word. "of course i do, but what choice would she have?"

"truth?" you whispered to yourself. your nerves were on edge as you strained to listen more closely to the dialogue. every sound of the voices became a point of intense focus, your anxiety grew with the realization that they may know something you don't. "choice?..." you tried to keep a steady breathing pace but every word was like a brick added to the wall of tension around your heart, threatening to crush you with the weight of the unknown.

you stretched, purposely making the bed creak, and loudly yawned.

"i have to go" ellie murmured and put her phone on the table. you heard her footsteps, figuring out she walked over to another countertop, probably to make her morning coffee.

you sat up on the bed, staring at the doorway to see her once she's on the view. "what was that, ellie?" you yelled.

she appeared in the hallway, already dressed up in a flannel shirt with a black tank top underneath and her usual torn jeans. "what?"

"who were you talking with?" you pinched the sheet's button and nervously played with the hem of the seam. "and what about?"

"oh, eavesdropping? not nice." she smirked and clicked her tongue, slowly turning around and making her way back to the kitchen. "if i tell you, i'd have to kill you!" she chuckled.

you whined. "don't laugh it off."

the playful laugh that danced upon her lips slowly faded away as an intense realisation washed over her. the mask she has been wearing for so long has slipped off, exposing the truth beneath it all. there was no more trying to cover up the truth with jokes. she was vulnerable and exposed, and all she could do now was accept that you know that something's off.

she licked her lips. "your father—" she cut off and slowly sat down on the bed next to you. she bent her knees and placed her hands on them, letting out a defeated sigh. she stared into the hallway, just like you before, though you had a reason to and her eyes seemed to be blind, not hoping to see anything in particular. hopeless. "i will betray him."

your confusion was palpable as your mind raced to catch up with the changing dynamic of the situation. the laughter and joking suddenly fall away like a veil dropped, revealing an atmosphere tinged with unease and uncertainty. your gaze remained on ellie, studying her expressions in search of a deeper meaning, wondering why the shift in mood suddenly occurred. you were unable to grasp the truth lurking beneath the surface and the other girl could see the wheels turning in your head as you searched for the missing puzzle piece to make sense of it all. whatever it meant, it wasn't predicting anything good. "if you do you will betray me."

"i'm sorry" she mumbled, cocking her head back, leaning it on the bed frame.

you frowned, knitting your eyebrows together in one line, creating a wrinkle on your forehead. "what are you talking about? what the fuck is going on?"

a sharp click echoed through the room, as the sound of a lighter being sparked filled the air. ellie always plays with it when she's nervous, making the momentary flash of light illuminate her face. the bright flame flickered as it was held carefully in the girl's hands, its warm glow emitting its own palpable warmth. "he's in trouble." the fire danced with a mesmeric grace, drawing all of the attention as emotions threatened to boil over.

"can't be that bad." your voice was begging, pleading for her to reassure you that it's nothing. you weren't sure what your father's job was, and you hoped it would stay that way, but now you knew you can't be out of it.

"but it is." she shrugged. "it's not like i have a choice anyway."

you huffed. "you do—"

"don't act like you know everything." she bitterly chuckled. "if i could be on his side, i promise you, i would."

"so there's more of you. you are just a pawn in their treacherous game." the rush of anger swelled within you as you rose from the bed, the truth finally setting in and filling your brain with a rush of emotions. the confusion melted away into wrath and hatred, the heat of your burning anger replacing the cold chill of uncertainty. "so what was your job? making me fall in love? did they force you to?" every word ringed in your head with the intensity of a thunderclap, stirring your fury and disappointment. your body felt heavy with the strength of your emotions as you began to realize everything that has been happening. "that's clever." you stopped pacing back and forth to accusingly point your finger at her. "you used me. i bet it was your own idea too, huh?"

"you can't be serious." she twirled a cigarette on the palm of her hand. "can i?..."

"you can do whatever you please, ellie." you proudly raised your chin and crossed your arms. "just not in my house."

"are you kicking me out?" she asked in disbelief, so strong she almost smiled. she stuck the unlit cigarette between her dry lips and put her hands in the air, like a surrendering thief. "whatever, i understand. but remember, it was me or him. it still is." she stood up and, without taking her eyes off you, walked up to the door.

✧˖°

YAYYY ANGSTY SHIT I LOVE ANGST MEOW

taglist: @bellaramslover @gold-dustwomxn @loverg1rlll @juliluvsu @timmy-27 @marianeski @kuromicoree @inf3ct3dd @mikellie @elliewilliamsonlygirlfriend @syrenada @drunkzuko @florencepughismybae @weridcattty @kanksaint @villainousbear @coff1nn @emst4rr @thehungrygayterpillar-blog @skylerwhitwyo @macaroni676 @cupid1ink @xen222 @onlinelesbo @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @mochiivqi @lilylynne11 @sevvenspit @williamsblogxx @707bnnyy @poopypeen @agajahan @kali-1014 @lullsss @corpsebridenightamare @planetloverr @lil-elliesgf @littlegingerperson

[little-golden-age]

Double-Take | Bucky Barnes

DOUBLE TAKE📸 Photographer!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your photographer boyfriend Bucky watches you doing your yoga routine one morning and gets ✨inspired✨

Word Count: ~1,800

Warnings: smut 18+ (minors DNI), Insatiable Bucky, Oral (f receiving) PinV, Praise Kink, Bucky being hot? idk.  A/N: my first (and probably only) fic. I love reading domestic-ish Bucky fluff + smut. This concept popped into my head and I couldn’t find one to read, so I wrote one.

It was a crisp spring morning in Brooklyn. You had just finished making some tea to start the day when you noticed the warm light streaming in through the window. It was perfect out! You took a sip of your drink and sighed in contentment, making your way to your yoga mat spread out in the living room. You always enjoyed getting a morning stretch in. Maintaining a regular yoga practice helped to ease your mind and ground yourself to start the day. Your boyfriend, Bucky, rarely joined you in your movements but he loved your daily practice too, for slightly different reasons.

As you walked past the couch you greeted him with a soft peck. He watched intently as you lowered yourself onto the mat and began moving through cat and cow pose, golden light tracing over your curves. You were wearing that tight little short set that he loved and your hair was pulled back into a delicate braid, small wisps dusting beautifully over your temples. You looked angelic–especially from this angle.

“See something you like, Barnes?” Pausing your routine to look up at him. Your tone was flirty, soft eyes never leaving his as you maneuvered yourself into a particularly appealing pose. Hearing nothing in return but still feeling his eyes on you, you called out to him again. “Why don’t you take a picture Buck, it’ll last longer” you chimed sarcastically, but Bucky didn’t hesitate. Letting out a small chuckle, he quietly darted over to his camera collection, grabbing a small polaroid model off of the shelf. "Ask and you shall receive, darlin’.”

Bucky found photography as his creative outlet shortly before you met him. He loved describing his photographs to you, what attracted him to each subject. How one photo could capture a single moment in time but still tell a thousand stories all at once. Eventually, other galleries and media outlets caught onto his work too and it became his career. You were so proud of him, you loved his work. Sometimes you even joked that he loved his cameras more than he loved you but you both knew deep down that you were Bucky’s one true muse. A few of his portraits of you even made it into some galleries, but he kept a special collection of photos just for himself to look back on with fondness.

Bucky came bounding back into the room, camera in hand and you couldn’t help but giggle. His excitement was palpable and adorable, you figured you’d humor him for a while. Tracking him through side glances, you watched as he moved around your body slowly appreciating the shapes and curves you created with each pose. The faintest sheen of sweat causing your skin to sparkle in the morning sunlight. 

There was always a satisfying sense of calm with Bucky. You felt comfortable with him from the day you met. After your first date walking through the exhibits at the Whitney, you two became inseparable. He showed you his favorite parts of the city, you kept him updated on arts and culture. Bucky’s friends became your friends, your friends adored him and after just a few months you decided to move in together, finding the perfect light-filled loft.

Throughout getting to know each other, and especially when christening your new place, you couldn’t help but notice that Bucky was particularly insatiable when it came to you. Ever the gentleman, your pleasure was important to him and he always treated your body like a work of art; which is why you were quick to notice the not-so-subtle bulge growing in his pants as you moved through a series of hip openers on your mat. You smiled to yourself, teasing him a little as you continued to work through your routine as if nothing was happening. You didn’t miss how his breath caught slightly when you twisted into a particularly suggestive position–Compass Pose, his favorite. It was over for him whenever you did it.

Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, Bucky set his camera down and stepped closer to you. Kneeling behind you, he ran one hand along your thigh and grazed your exposed ankle with his lips, landing a soft kiss just above your achilles. “Buck.” You warned slyly, “You have that call with the gallery in 15 minutes, don’t start something you can’t finish, Barnes.”

You lowered your leg away from him with a wink but he simply wasn’t listening. Moving you onto your back, Bucky basically had you pinned now--exactly where you wanted him if you were being honest. Tongue jutting out to wet his lips as slate blue eyes zeroed in on your supple mouth, he leaned down until your noses nearly touched.

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart. You know--I bet I could devour your sweet little pussy right here on this mat and still be ready for that call in time.”

Your heart rate spiked as he looked right at you, pupils blown wide. You felt yourself clench around nothing as a tender silence fell over the room. A cocky grin that rivaled the cheshire cat spread across Bucky’s face as he advanced on you, fingers caressing your partially exposed thigh. “Are you going to be a good girl for me, hm? Let me make you feel good?”

You nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact as he pulled your soft shorts down your legs, planting kisses in his wake. Bucky’s eyebrow raised slightly as he noted your lack of underwear. Moving swiftly, his soft tongue finds your already dripping core, placing perfectly timed strokes up your folds and over your sensitive bud as you panted in ecstasy. 

“Already so wet for me, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Deep, powerful moans left Bucky’s mouth as you pulled at his hair rode his face, taking everything you had to give him.

 “P-please Buck. More. Want t-to feel you.” you chanted breathlessly.

Bucky sat up, “Yeah baby?” He grinned slyly. ���You feeling needy this morning, huh? Want my cock in you?” All you could do was nod as he moved you both up from your mat over to the couch, stopping briefly to pick something up off of the floor. Standing over you, Bucky moved his hand down your cheek, thumb finding its way past your full lips. With complete adoration in his eyes, he lifted the polaroid camera once more. Aiming the lens right at your blissed out face. 

“Look here baby, right at me. That’s it. Look at you. My pretty girl, All mine.”

Sparks erupted from your core as he snapped away praising you as he worked. After a few more flashes, you were growing impatient. “Buck, please.” you whimper, reaching up for him “I n-need you now.”

He set the camera back down, smiling before placing a soft kiss on your palm and moving your hand to feel his aching length. “I got you baby, c’mere. Got me so fucking hard for you.” You watched with bated breath as he moved to toss his shirt aside and started on his pants. You swore you could watch him undress that beautiful body of his again and again, forever and ever, on repeat. 

Your heart thumped hard in your chest and you felt yourself getting wetter as his thick cock came into view. Jerking himself slowly, he hovered down over you and ran his tip along your folds, teasing you a bit. “This what you needed, baby? Doing all of those slutty little poses, teasing me from across the room.” He spreads your thighs farther apart, getting another good look at your glistening folds. “So pretty,” he groans when he notices you smiling up at him, ready and willing to take his length.

He sinks into you slowly, filthy lips grazing over your ear as he uses all of his strength not to plow you with force. “GOD–y/n, you feel so fucking good. Made to take my cock.” He shudders, grabbing ahold of your hand tightly and giving you a moment to adjust to his size, making sure you take every inch of him. 

He moves in and out of you with precision. Savoring every movement, feeling you inch closer to your edge when suddenly, it happens–he hits that perfect spot inside of your tight wet heat and feels you clench down immediately before gasping a strangled “ohgodyes, Buck–”

Bucky’s eyes meet yours and you can’t help but notice a fire alight inside of his pupils “Yeah, you like that?” He grins proudly.

“You gonna cum for me, angel? Squeezing me so hard” he chokes out. Sweat glistening off of your bodies, vulgar sounds and high-pitched moans creating a perfect melody along the walls of your apartment. The smell of sex wafting in the morning air. “Let go baby, show me how pretty you look when you cum all over my cock.”

Your peak hits you almost immediately, crashing through every muscle in your body as you fall deeper into ecstasy. You nearly squeal as Bucky suddenly flips you back into reality, moving you on top of him, fucking up into you from below. Oh, he’s extra insatiable today. You steady yourself as he slides a hand down your back and palms your ass, tapping once lightly then again, a little harder as you cry out, trying to meet him thrust for thrust. 

“One more baby, come on. You can take it, you can take what I give you, yeah?” Bucky’s desperate now. You look down at him, wide-eyed but he’s too busy pawing your tits and pulling at your sensitive nipples. He’s not stopping until you’re both satisfied.

“Give me another. That’s a good girl. C’mon let me feel you sweetheart.”

His cool metal thumb finds your clit at the perfect moment as yet another orgasm rips through you. “B-Bu-Buck! Ohmygod!” Your hips move wildly as your pussy gushes and you lean down to nip at his shoulder, leaving little marks as Bucky begins to chase his own high. 

“I know baby, I know. FUCK–You feel like heaven. Never want to leave this pussy. Hold onto me.” Your bodies sync up and you both come crashing down together. As your breathing slows, Bucky pulls you close and starts peppering kisses down your neck and chest. “Always such a good girl for me. Angel.” he lowers you onto the couch, holding your back into his chest as your lids fall heavy and you drift off into a pleasant haze of satisfaction. 

You finally come to a minute later, feeling a pair of lips gently pressing against your temple. A lazy smile plastered to your face as you watch Bucky make his way over to the kitchen island, plucking his t-shirt off of the back of the couch and putting it on as he opens up his laptop and joins his work call.

“Sorry I’m a couple of minutes late guys, appreciate you waiting for me. I’m feeling really inspired this morning, so let’s get started!”

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

my favorite art piece

pairing: knight!steve harrington x fem!princess reader

wc: 777

warnings: none. tis' a clean story.

summary: knight and princess talk about the visiting duke over oil painting.

A/N: another story to my knight!steve series. alone together is the first one but you could read either one standalone.

masterlist

“was hoping i’d find you here. was beginning to worry you climbed the palace walls again and i’d have my head chopped off.” a male voice entered your quiet art room.

barely a glance over your shoulder you knew who was stepping behind you. the gentle clang of his armor and weapon reverberated off the high ceilings.

“i’d never let them do such a thing. can’t waste a pretty face away.” the smirk evident in your words.

the footsteps and clanking stopped just over your right shoulder, “they don’t write sonnets about this face for nothing, princess.”

an unprincessly snort left your nose, “oh do they? you must recite some to me one day. would adore to hear.”

steven hummed, “what is your focus on today, princess? you mostly paint when stressed.”

focused brush strokes paused, ignoring the way your heart beat just a bit faster that he knew something so small about your ticks. “not always. it’s just when… inspiration hits me. and perhaps it may be when i can’t control something.” resuming practiced strokes, a band of fury hidden beneath a poised grip.

“might i inquire what has you… vexed?” steven took two steps over, now in your peripheral.

shades of periwinkle and indigo mixed, “if you must. but mind your words.” speaking slowly, fully concentrating on your work.

“would this have anything to do with a certain duke? one who happens to be visiting for the week?” you ignored the gentle venom of the word duke.

“lord hargrove’s arrival has been known for many days. though his intentions of travel have not been stated until the day of his arrival.” seeing shades of red while adding spots of white.

“i’m guessing-“ “marriage! lord hargrove is here for my hand in marriage. in request of my father and his, for the good of our kingdoms.” stains of paint dripped down the canvas in tears.

“marriage,” steven repeated, you could imagine the slight snare on his face at the word.

“yes, marriage,” a deep sigh from overuse of the word, “to a man i don’t know and is expected to wed in the spring. no choice in the matter.” rinsing your brush in the murky paint water, tapping it against the lip before pressing it onto a cloth.

“not quite fair to expect that of you.” steven grabbed a stool close by to be placed beside you. he was now sitting shoulder to bicep.

you couldn’t help your scuff, “i’m but a woman. they only tolerate us cause we can be sold like sheep and breed like a calf. a single syllable from our lips can bring us death. seen not heard.” your once melancholy painting transforming into a brutal storm, one that brings sailors to the ocean floors.

dropping your brush beside your easil, you finally turn to sir steven. his back straight with knees bent at the perfect angle, a slight spread to the long limbs. forearms resting on thighs while mindlessly tugging at his fingers, head dipped with untamed strands of hair flinging about.

you spoke before you could stop, “let me paint you.” speaking quietly not wanting to disrupt the peace.

steven’s head picked up and met your wondering eyes, “pardon?” a pinch to his brows.

you cocked your head, “let me paint you. would cheer me up.” standing to your feet in search of a spare canvas.

“princess-“ “please? i wish to paint the face people pen poems and sonnets about.” trying to feed his ego.

you heard the deep sigh but saw the little smile before he could wipe it away, “your wish is my command, princess.” starting to move before you rushed over and rested a palm on his shoulder, “stay. the lighting is perfect.”

he peered up, long lashes framing normal brown eyes that held something special. his patches of silver armor cool under your warm palm. “just sit like before, but keep your head up.”

“am i getting a portrait done by the lovely princess y/n l/n? i must be the luckiest man alive.” his sword clicked off the wooden stool leg.

you started collecting more oil colors, “i would say so. and i would also say i’m the luckiest princess alive since i’ll get to stare at you while detailing my work to perfection.” 

satisfied with your supplies and making sure they stay put, you begin your simple outline in black chalk. the simple task is a distraction from your loose words and hummingbird heart.“quiet flattered, princess.” princess said in a low tone that forced you to suppress a shiver. “only the best for my favorite knight.” saying the words only to yourself.

[archived-junkissed]

sunkissed

member — husband!jun x reader genre — fluff word count — 2.8k synopsis — this year for your anniversary, jun takes you on a trip down memory lane through the flowers of your past. warnings — the time skips between past & present, reader wears a dress at the end, some kissing, very brief cheol & seokmin cameos. nothing too extreme but they're a gross adorable happy married couple notes — this is for @svthub's secret garden collab! this fic is very special to me for many reasons but mostly because it's based on a little beach town where we used to go when i was growing up and i have so many fond memories of that experience (and also because i love jun hehe). i hope you enjoy :)

one reblog = one bouquet of flowers from jun 💐

“jun, can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

he shakes his head, a grin across his face. “nope! it’s a surprise.”

you frown and cross your arms, sitting down on the bed. “well, how am i supposed to know what to pack, then, if i don’t know where we’re going?”

jun pauses, his brow furrowed. “oh. yeah.” suddenly he pulls out his phone, studying the screen carefully, and you can’t help but laugh at him. 

“what are you doing now?” you ask.

he looks up at you like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “checking the weather,” he says. “it’s supposed to be nice and warm but the weather app says it’ll be windy, so pack a jacket.” he pauses, thinking. “maybe more than one jacket.”

you stand and walk over to your closet, pulling out two hangers: a long brown coat, and a thin cardigan. “which one?”

his face lights up and he laughs, pointing to the coat. “that one, for sure.”

“excuse me, do you need some help?”

ice cold drops of rain pour down around you as you stand underneath the overhang in front of the grocery store, cursing yourself for not checking the weather more thoroughly before you went out today. it had been a deceptively sunny day earlier, but during the rainy spring season you never know when the weather will flip on a dime and the skies open up like they have today. your outfit had been perfect for the sunshine, but now it’s nowhere near enough to protect you from the rain.

at the sound of a voice you turn and see a tall man coming out of the store behind you, a plastic thank-you bag sticking out from under his arm. “do you live far?” he asks. “you can borrow my umbrella, if you want.”

you start to tell him no, you’re fine thanks, but you pause when you study his face a little closer, realizing you recognize him. “you look familiar… do i know you?”

he nods his head a little in response. “aren’t you seungcheol’s friend? i’ve seen you at his parties sometimes— you were at new year’s, right?”

you give him a nod, relaxing a little now that you know he’s friendly, but you’re still surprised when he says your name. “yep, that’s me,” you say with a polite laugh. “but i’m sorry, i don’t remember your name.”

“don’t worry about it,” he grins. “i’m junhui, by the way, but my friends call me jun. you can call me jun.” 

you stick out your hand, and he shakes it enthusiastically. “well, it’s very nice to officially meet you, jun,” you smile. 

“so, about that umbrella,” he says.

“oh, no, i’m alright,” you say, waving him off. “i’m not far away. just working up the courage to sprint back home,” you say with a laugh.

“let me give you a ride,” he says. “a little bit shorter of a sprint for you, at least? i live at the apartments a couple blocks down, it’s not out of my way.”

“i’ll be fine,” you say, shaking your head as a gust of wind nearly knocks you over. “but it’s very kind of you to offer.”

he frowns a little. “well, i can’t in good conscience let you go running around in the rain without an umbrella or anything,” he says, thinking. he shifts his bag of groceries to his other arm and starts shrugging off his coat. “here, take my jacket. your outfit would get all ruined in the rain.”

you want to tell him no again, but the rain continues to pour around you, and your shoes are already soaked in water. and his coat does look pretty warm… 

“okay, fine,” you say finally, accepting the clothing from him and slipping your arms into the sleeves as he tosses it around your shoulders. “but how do i get it back to you?”

“are you going to cheol’s housewarming party next weekend?” he asks, and you nod. “you can give it to me then.”

“alright. i’ll take good care of it for you,” you say with a smile, and he grins in response.

“i’m really sorry, i’ve gotta rush off to a meeting,” he says, checking his watch. “but it was nice meeting you, and i hope we see each other again soon!”

he gives you a little wave, then dashes off into the rain, holding his plastic bag over his head to protect himself. you pull the hood of his coat up over your head, feeling a little guilty for leaving him without a jacket; but he had offered, and you would see him again anyway. you’d have to figure out a way to repay him next time you saw him.

“now will you tell me where we’re going?”

the warm morning breeze brushes against your cheeks as you roll the windows down, resting your elbow out of the car. you lean your head back against the headrest and sigh, glancing over at jun in the driver’s seat. the wind blows his hair around in his face, a tousled flurry of brown against his tan skin.

you still have no idea where you’re headed for your anniversary trip, and it looks like jun has no intention of letting you know anytime soon. but that thought couldn’t be farther from your mind as you watch jun drive, buzzing in his seat with how excited he is to reveal his plans.

“nope,” he says, and you whine in response. “but you’ll see soon enough.” he grins at you and reaches across the seat to rest his hand on your leg, and you rest your hand on top of his, tilting your head against the seat to look out the window.

as he drives along the road, the city gets less and less dense until you’re out on a long back road, nothing but green fields and tall grass as far as the eye can see. eventually jun pulls off onto a dirt path and stops the car in a tiny parking lot. a small wooden sign announces the name of the park, along with a note that reminds visitors to pick up their trash. 

he pulls the keys out of the ignition and turns to you, grinning. you smile back at him, waiting for him to say something. “is this your big surprise… ?”

he laughs, leaning over the center console to kiss your cheek before opening his door. “no. this is just lunch.”

he gets out of the car and pops open the trunk, pulling out a small cooler and a blanket before shutting it again. he holds out his hand to you, motioning for you to follow him, and when you take his hand he squeezes a little, turning back to smile at you before leading you over to a shady spot in the grass.

he spreads the picnic blanket out and you start to open the cooler to help him set up, but he swats your hand away playfully. “let me do it,” he pouts, and you can’t ever say no to him, especially when he’s gone through such lengths to plan all this, so you let him continue on with what he’s doing.

he pulls out a bottle of sparkling apple juice and two plastic champagne flutes, handing one to you so he can pour yours out first, before pouring his own and setting the bottle down.

“we’ll have the real stuff once we get to the hotel,” he says with a grin, holding up his glass to clink with yours.

“oh, so we’re staying at a hotel?” you say, raising your eyebrows at him as you take a sip.

he scowls. “you’re not getting any info out of me until we get there, so don’t even try!”

you laugh, laying down on your side on the blanket, and he pulls out paper-wrapped sandwiches from the cooler. he looks at them both and then hands you yours, with your name printed in careful but messy lettering and little hearts drawn around it in sharpie.

it’s so cute you almost don’t want to ruin it by opening it, and you look at it fondly for such a long time that by the time you finally start to unwrap it, jun is already halfway done with his. you call his name, holding back a laugh when he looks up from his sandwich with mustard smeared on one corner of his mouth and up his cheek. “what?” he asks, mouth full.

“nothing,” you giggle, reaching over to wipe the mustard off his face with your thumb before wiping your hand with a napkin. “i just love you.”

“number 36, two ham and swiss for jun?”

the barista calls out the order, and jun jumps out of his seat to go grab the food. despite being the middle of the day, there isn’t much of a lunch crowd in the cafe this afternoon. 

after seeing jun again at your friend seungcheol’s get-together, you’d really hit it off, and you’d casually offered to get lunch with him sometime. and as luck would have it, your schedules lined up so that you both had a free afternoon the very next day. jun had recommended the cafe down the street owned by his friend seokmin, raving on and on about his chocolate chip muffins, and you’d been convinced. 

he comes back to the table a second later holding a little wood tray with two sandwiches, carefully handing you yours before sitting down again. 

not only does the sandwich end up being great, but the company you’re with ends up being the best part of the lunch. getting to know jun is more fun than you’ve ever had, and when you look down to check your watch and realize that you’ll be late to work if you stay any longer, you’re honestly disappointed it has to end here.

“do you wanna go out again sometime?” jun asks nervously as you both stand up. “maybe… dinner or something, next time?”

“yeah.” pushing your chair in, you give him a bright smile. “i would really like that. dinner sounds great.”

he grins, and you can almost see his cheeks flush a little as he follows you out of the cafe. walking back to your car parked next to his on the sidewalk, he tells you all about the new recipes he’s been wanting to try and how he can’t wait to show you his favorites, already eager to cook you dinner.

being around him feels like you’ve known each other for years, and in that moment you realize this lunch is only a first date with jun. he’s already making plans for a second, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

he helps you into your car and gives you a wave before walking away to get into his own. and long after his car has pulled away and you’re still sitting in the parking lot, you can’t help but smile, thinking about how wonderful today has been and how much you’re looking forward to seeing him again.

“we’re here, baby, are you awake?”

jun’s soft voice pulls you out of your nap and you blink slowly, sitting up and massaging the kink in your neck from sleeping against the window. you had wanted to stay awake to see where jun was taking you, but with the excitement from packing you hadn’t gotten much sleep last night, and the feeling of warm sunshine on your face and the rolling of the car had put you right to sleep.

rubbing your eyes, you stare out the window to see what he’s talking about, but it only takes you a few seconds to immediately recognize where you are. “jun!” you gasp, looking over at him, and he beams back at you with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

“surprise,” he giggles, watching your giddy reaction as he drives along the familiar coastal highway. it’s the same little town you spent your honeymoon with him years ago, that you’ve always said you’d wanted to visit again but between both of your busy lives you haven’t had the chance to.

you roll down the window, sticking your head out of the car and inhaling the fresh, salty sea air.

jun pulls into the hotel parking lot: a little inn that, by the looks of it, hasn’t changed much since the last time you were here. you hop out and come around to meet jun at the other side of the car and he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he stands up, shutting the car door and taking your hand to lead you to the front office to check in.

when you pull open the door, the front desk is decorated just like how you remember it. paintings of ocean scenes hang on the walls, and driftwood and seashells sit atop every antique wooden table. you walk across the room to pick up a magazine off one of the tables, flipping through it to see advertisements for local restaurants, wine tastings, and local art shows.

you’re so invested reading an article about the owner of the inn, that you don’t notice how jun lowers his voice talking to the man at the front desk, whispering and nodding quickly before he hands the room keys to your husband. he grins and shakes the man’s hand before calling your name, and you turn around and grab his hand again, ready to go see your room.

jun hands you the keys and lets you lead the way, tugging him after you. muscle memory comes back to you as your feet carry you up the stairs to the same room you’d stayed in so long ago. he follows after you, unable to hide the smile on his face as he sees your excitement. it’s not often you get to go on vacation together, and he’s determined to make sure this anniversary is one you won’t forget.

outside the room you unlock the door, but when you see what’s inside you nearly drop everything you’re holding. the entire room is covered in flowers, with pink rhododendrons and pretty white blooms in vases on every table and rose petals scattered across the bed. by the mini refrigerator there’s a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice, a little note attached with a bow around the neck of the bottle.

you turn around and jun is right behind you, beaming like a little kid that’s just been told they can have dessert before dinner as he watches your reaction. it had cost him a lot to get the owner to do all this extra stuff, but when jun had talked to him on the phone he was more than happy to help him plan it all out for such a special occasion.

you throw your arms around him and he giggles, walking you backwards into the room. the luggage in the open car trunk is long forgotten as his lips press against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you.

“are you ready?”

jun asks from the driver’s seat as you sit beside him in the car. your dress bunches up around you as you turn to look at him, pushing the fabric out of the way so you can lean across the cupholders to kiss him, the first of many kisses today and over the years that will come.

he smiles against your lips before pulling away to start the car, and you look out your passenger side window one more time. all of your friends and family stand outside the car, waving and cheering and holding bouquets of bright pink rhododendrons.

jun twists around to look behind him at the rear window, where the words “just married” are written in chalk marker, as he reverses out of the parking lot.

once everyone is out of sight, you begin to relax into your seat, kicking off the shoes that have been hurting your feet all night. you’re leaving before any of your guests are, having stayed at the reception just long enough to cut the cake and have your first dance, so it’s still early enough in the evening to have some time to yourselves

“where are we going?” you ask, reclining the seat a little with a sigh as you gaze out the window. the stars are beginning to come out, little twinkling lights in the sky, and you smile as you think about today, finally a moment to relax and reflect on everything.

your new husband grins and shakes his head, sliding one hand across the seat to intertwine his fingers with yours. “nope. it’s a surprise.”

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[storiesofsvu]

Cherry Blossoms

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: minor language, alcohol consumption, just pure fluff. Covers a the "rainy day" bingo square and a req from @strongsassysexysloane

Emily had sworn up and down that there was no way she was going to have to work this weekend, that her phone would remain on silent and there was nothing that would call her away from you. You’d been rescheduling your date day for what felt like weeks already and she was sick of it, wanting to make you her main priority.

Which is why when you rolled over Sunday morning, slowly waking up with a big yawn, you stretched out your body, expecting to feel her in the bed with you. Your eyes shot open when your hand hit her empty pillow and you frowned, glancing around the bedroom and for the briefest moment you grumbled. Your senses awakened, your ears picked up the music and quiet clattering coming from the kitchen and your lips curved up into a grin.

Pushing back the covers you shivered a little, frowning at the chill in the air, it was supposed to be spring, the weather was supposed to be warming up. You snagged a spare hoodie of Emily’s from a nearby chair and tugged it over your head before padding down the hallway to the kitchen. Your arm looped around her waist from behind while she was at the stove, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Thought you’d ran off on me.” You greeted, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and her free hand found your arm, squeezing softly.

“Not this weekend.” She assured, “I made a promise and there was no way I was gonna break it.”

“That’s why I love you so much.” You murmured, your head turning to look out the window, “awwehh.”

“What?” Emily stalled, spatula halfway to the pan in front of her, “I made them steamed sunny side up, just the way you like.”

“No.” You laughed with a small huff, kissing the side of her head before nudging at her to look to the side, “it’s raining. And like… really raining. That’s not gonna let up and I really wanted to go see the cherry blossoms today.”

“I know.” She flicked off the burner and turned in your arms, tilting your frown up to kiss you softly, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t have the perfect date day without leaving the apartment?”

“Oh yeah? You got a plan b?”

“I do.” She smiled, leaving a kiss on the tip of your nose, “and it was supposed to start with breakfast in bed, but I guess the couch will have to do.”

“You’re a sap, anyone ever tell you that?”

“No one who survived.” She teased back with a grin, nudging at your hip, “go get cozy, I’ll be right over.”

You happily dropped down onto the couch, pulling one of the blankets from the back of it down, happily tucking it around your legs, leaving the side open for Emily to easily slide into a few moments later. She first handed you a mug of coffee, made exactly how you liked it, letting you get those very needed first sips in. She watched with a smile at the way your shoulders dropped, your entire body relaxing at the warmth spreading through your veins.

“Perfect.” You smiled across at her, placing the mug on the coffee table so you could take the plate from her. The aforementioned eggs, extra bacon and homemade pancakes covered in a berry compote and side of fresh fruit. It was honestly a surprise she’d gotten that much done before you woke up. “Baby this looks amazing.”

“It had to be special.” She replied with a shrug, stealing a quick kiss before the two of you started to dig in.

Plates soon were strewn aside onto the coffee table as you sunk into the crook of Emily’s arm, burrowing under the blankets while she pressed gentle kisses to the top of your head. You let out a content sigh as you relaxed into her embrace, your gaze trained on the large living room windows, watching the rain dance down the glass.

“You know… it is kinda pretty.” You murmured and she hummed, lips brushing across your temple.

“It is. Maybe it’ll let up this afternoon, if it’s just drizzling we can still go out.”

It was directly after she finished her sentence that thunder cracked through the air and you let out a sigh, watching the way the droplets got bigger, hitting the glass with more ferocity.

“Are you sure you’re not some kind of witch?” You grumbled with a tease and Emily chuckled, pinching at your side.

“We’re already cozy here. Let’s throw on a couple of movies, our watch list is getting far too long.”

“That’s because someone keeps falling asleep halfway through.” You teased, prodding at her ribs as the two of you readjusted on the couch so you were facing the tv.

“Not my fault you’re just that comfortable.”

“Yeah, okay.” You laughed, curling into her side, your head resting on her shoulder while she grabbed the remote.

You settled on a romantic comedy to start off with, and Emily would spend the rest of the weekend teasing you because you were the one asleep within twenty minutes. Clearly that teeny sleep in this morning hadn’t been enough for you. Still, she left the movie playing, her hand softly rubbing up and down your back as you slept, your breath even and low. She couldn’t help but gaze down at you adoringly, watching the way the corner of your lips would twitch up into a tiny grin as you dreamt.

It was halfway through the movie when Sergio leapt up onto the couch, nuzzling himself in between the two of you, Emily’s free hand giving him a little scratch between the ears. She thought he would settle in but instead he let out a loud meow, nuzzling his face right against yours before licking your cheek and your face twitched as you started to slowly wake up.

“Hey bud.” You yawned, giving him a few pets before he head butted you again, turning to Emily to let out an even louder meow. “Did you forget to feed him this morning?”

“He still had food in his bowl from last night.” She replied with a shrug. In retaliation Sergio headbutted her, harder than yours and let out a rather annoyed meow. “Okay, okay.” She laughed, “calm down, I’ll give you some lunch.”

She left a kiss on the top of your head before scooping him up and slipping from under the blanket, making sure it was tucked around you properly before wandering back to the kitchen. She occupied Sergio with a couple of treats before making sure his water bowl was fresh and filling up his food bowl. She realized her stomach was starting to rumble and was sure you’d be feeling hungry soon too so she pulled open the fridge. Before either of you had bothered to think about checking the weather the night before, you’d prepped some mini pita sandwiches, wrapping them in foil to take with you down to the cherry blossoms. One glance out the window told her that likely wasn’t happening today so she grabbed them before returning to the couch.

“Hungry?” She asked, holding out one of the packages.

“Kinda, yeah.” You smiled up at her, leaning forward for a kiss, “thanks.”

She settled back onto the couch, arm winding around your shoulders as her gaze returned to the tv, “you want me to rewind this?”

“Nah.” You shook your head, “it was one you were more interested in anyways.”

Not much longer after lunch the first movie wrapped and you continued into the next one on your list. Sergio, satisfied with his feeding hopped back up onto the couch to snuggle between the two of you, purring at the endless pets and cuddles he received during the rest of the afternoon.

Emily offered to cook dinner but you squashed her plans insisting on pizza instead, your motivation being that you didn’t want her to leave the couch. You were a tangle of limbs at this point, only moving when one of you absolutely had to, multiple blankets wrapped around you to combat the chill of the rain outside. She cracked a bottle of wine when the pizza arrived and you were thankful to be enjoying some delicious food and fancy wine while curled up on the couch. Your third movie of the day started to come to its close, the credits beginning to roll on the screen and you felt Emily shift beside you as her gaze redirected to the window. She squeezed softly at you,

“Hey… I think it stopped raining.”

“So?” You asked with a laugh, looking outside, “it’s nearly eleven. We can’t go out now.”

“Who says?” She laughed, leaning down to kiss you gently, her hand stroking at your cheek, “besides I’m craving ice cream from that place on seventh, and they’re open til midnight.”

“Well if you’re promising me ice cream…”

“Baby you’ll be getting a lot more than ice cream tonight.” She grinned back and you laughed, gently nudging Sergio off your lap as you sat up.

“Alright, let me grab some leggings, I feel like its too cold for pj shorts.”

Twenty minutes later you were leaving Pitango Gelato with a decaf latte to share and a gelato each, cherry dark chocolate for Emily and matcha green tea for you. You thought you were headed back home but Emily suddenly made a left turn instead of right and your head tilted in confusion.

“Where’re we—”

“Don’t worry about it.” She replied with a soft smile, squeezing at your thigh and you simply smiled in return, figuring she had some other late night craving she needed to satisfy.

Ten minutes after that and she was pulling into the parking lot at Tidal Basin’s reservoir and you let out a soft gasp.

“Em…”

“What?” She asked with a small smile, glancing toward you as she undid her seatbelt, “you very specifically said you wanted to see the cherry blossoms today. And my girl gets what she wants.”

“You fucking sap.” You giggled, lurching forward to kiss her before slipping out of the car.

You’d basically finished your gelato on the drive over, more hungry for a sweet than you’d realized, dumping the empty container in a garbage can not far from the car. Which meant you had a free hand to carry the coffee while the other quickly wrapped around Emily’s arm as you began your walk. The pathway was quiet due to the late hour, light reflecting off the water of the lake and the rain water left on the ground. There was a calmness in the air, moonlight shining down bright over the two of you as you nuzzled close to Emily.

“It’s almost even more beautiful right now.” You murmured as you reached the cherry blossoms, glistening with rain drops in the moonlight. The rain from earlier had caused some of the petals to fall from the trees, coating the pathway with them, it was as if you were stepping into an enchanted forest.

“You know what the best part is?” Emily asked, her gelato now gone, snagging the coffee from you.

“What?” You asked with a grin, glancing up at her.

“Look around.” She nodded, taking a moment to place the coffee down on a bench before she stepped back to you, grabbing your hand in hers and she twirled you under her arm. “Right now… it’s all just for us.”

You let out a small giggle, watching at the way the petals around your feet flurried up when Emily spun you, pulling you close to her. A gust of wind picked up, blowing through the trees and you both glanced up, watching as the flowers shivered in the air, tree branches shaking and petals danced down through the air onto both of you. It was a complete moment of bliss, enamoured both with life and with each other, a sense of serenity washing over you because you both knew there was absolutely nowhere else in the world you would rather be than in this moment, right now, in each other’s arms. Pink petals decorated Emily’s hair like delicate snowflakes and you couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful she looked. You plucked one off, holding it in your palm before you glanced up to her,

“Make a wish.” You prompted and she chuckled, but the grin stayed on her face as you both silently made your wishes and with a small nod from you, you both blew the flower off your hand, watching it get caught in the wind and carried off into the night sky.

“What’d you wish for?” Emily asked, pulling you tight to her, pressing a kiss to the side of your head and you poked at her side.

“You know I can’t tell you that.” You replied with a giggle, turning to face her, your arms looping around her shoulders. “But what I can tell you, is that this was the greatest date day I’ve had in a long time. And that I love you to the moon and back.”

Emily smiled, practically melting as she gazed at you, eyes sparkling in the moonlight as she ducked down to kiss you tenderly, lips moving with ease against yours in an all too familiar dance you both adored. “You’re my everything and I will love you forever.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

——————————

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[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Teddy

Written for @hinnymicrofic November 2023 - Prompt 9

Ginny sat on a plastic garden chair on the patio at the back of the cottage, nursing a glass of iced lemonade. She took a deep breath, and allowed the June sunshine to warm her skin, stretching her legs out in front of her and lifting her face to the sky. The whole summer seemed to stretch out in front of her - the season was done, the Harpies had finished a creditable fourth. Rest and relaxation beckoned, for a little while at least.

If she listened closely, she could just about hear the sea, gently lapping at the shore, just beyond the hedge at the end of the garden. High overhead, seagulls cawed and wheeled, and there was just the faintest tang of saltwater in the air. It was difficult to overstate just how much she loved this place. Oh, Grimmauld Place was fine, particularly since the renovations got completed, but Ginny had always been a country girl at heart, and there was just something very special about this stretch of the Welsh coast, as far west as you could go. It felt like being at the very edge of the world, a place of big skies and even bigger seas, beautiful in its isolation. That, she thought, was probably what Harry loved most about it. 

No one bothered them here. Yes, of course, they had every ward and protection known to wizard kind, but barely anyone ever ventured out this way anyway, barring the occasional Muggle walking their dog along the beach. Otherwise, there was nothing here but peace and quiet - the perfect refuge from the constant noise, stress and pressure of each of their chosen professions. 

Of course, the moment that particular thought crossed her mind, the peace and quiet was utterly shattered, by the shrieks of an over-excited five-year-old accompanied by his godfather, making their way back from the beach. Teddy’s hair was bright yellow, a sure sign of the heady mix of happiness and excitement that accompanied much of a weekend stay in Pembrokeshire.

“Can I go on the trampoline now, Harry?” he asked. “Please? I promise I won’t bounce too high! Just for a little while?” 

“Okay, okay!” Harry held up his hands in mock surrender, although of course Ginny knew perfectly well his answer had never been in doubt. “Just until Granny comes to take you home.”

“Yay! Best day ever!” yelled Teddy, dashing towards the corner of the garden where Harry had installed the trampoline. “Come on with me Harry! Let’s bounce together!”

Ginny suppressed a laugh. When Harry had explained the Muggle concept of a garden trampoline to her, she had been incredulous, let alone when he insisted on buying one for Teddy. There was, after all, a wide selection of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes products that would have produced a similar effect, but Harry had insisted. Eventually, after much prodding, he had confessed that he had always been jealous of the one that Dudley had at Privet Drive one summer, which Harry was, predictably, banned from using. Ginny had subsequently teased him repeatedly with the suggestion that the trampoline was as much for Harry himself as it was for Teddy. 

Harry looked up at her, as he trailed after Teddy towards the trampoline. He waved, and gave her one of those crooked grins that still made her heart skip, no matter how many years had passed. Seeing her laughter, he shrugged, wordlessly telling her that yeah, okay. You got me.

Teddy was leaping higher and higher, giggling as Harry joined him, and used his own weight in counterbalance to catapult Teddy into the air. Teddy squealed with delight, though Harry’s own face was no less joyful. Even a perfect stranger would have been under no doubt that he adored the little boy

Just then, Teddy veered just a touch too close to the springs at the edge, and in a flash, Harry’s hand was at his back, gently guiding away before Teddy even really knew it had happened. There was no real danger given the number of cushioning charms that had been cast ‘just in case’, but watching them, Ginny felt a warmth spread through her chest, and a contented smile settled on her lips. 

She remembered being more than a bit daunted at taking on caring for Teddy (albeit on an occasional and very much second-fiddle basis), in the aftermath of the battle. Back then, she was still mourning Fred, dealing with her own trauma and attempting to repair her relationship with Harry, even before adding an actual baby into the mix. It had been a lot. Now, she wouldn’t have it any other way. Seeing Harry with his godson, all the time, energy and patience that he had for the little boy, brought her so much joy that she wondered if her chest could burst with it. 

Checking her watch, Ginny saw it was close to four o’clock; Andromeda would be arriving soon. Harry would be disappointed to have to say goodbye for Teddy, but Ginny was pretty sure she would be able to cheer him up.

She wondered exactly how she would phrase it, when the time came. She didn’t have long to decide - only until the green flames signalling Teddy’s departure died down in the fireplace, she reckoned. If she kept it to herself any longer, she was worried she might actually explode, and she decided just to trust that she would find the right words when she needed to. 

She glanced back down the garden one more time, to see Andromeda at the gate, and Harry helping Teddy down from the trampoline. Without even realising it, Ginny’s hand moved gently to settle on her stomach, and the smile became a grin as one thought swirled into her head with absolute certainty.

He’s going to make a brilliant dad.

[klunkcat]

sun digs its heels

rottmnt characters: mikey & klunk & oc part of the archer au by @goodlucktai!

trigger warning for animal death in this (not on screen) read on ao3

Days seem sometimes as if they'll never end Sun digs its heels to taunt you But after sunlit days, one thing stays the same Rises the moon Liana Flores, Rises the moon

The night Mikey has to say goodbye to Klunk is just a regular day in December. 

Life is funny like that, he thinks; you find things and lose them in nearly perfect semicircles. The world feels like it’s supposed to stop right there in its tracks, the sun burnt right up in the sky, but it goes on. People step across the grates on their way to work, cars beep in the streets, and nothing changes. It’s a hole punch through the wet paper of your heart, a boulder in the middle of a river, but somehow you breathe around it anyway. The ripples grow farther and farther out to the horizon until you nearly convince yourself they’re leaving. 

You’re the orbit: the tragedy stays. You never learn. 

Regular days for him are a long continuous trudge down an empty hallway anyways. There’s nothing to count meaning by, really. Home hasn’t felt like home in a long time, just a place he has to go. Sometimes he fantasizes about getting up, springing up from the cold couch like he used to have the energy for and sprinting straight down the sewers all the way out to Times Square. Sometimes there’s a rage in him that could demand that the world shut itself down the same way his family has.

Parts of him crave the idea of just running until it stops feeling like sludge and concrete in his heart just to exist here like this. He stares at the front door without meaning to, drawn back again and again. Sometimes he thinks he can almost break through the pins-and-needles numbness in his scarred hands and move, and then he’ll hear Don’s chair squeak down the hallway, or the click of Dad’s door, and it leaves him all at once.  

For a while the gravity well that kept him locked in step was just as simple as Klunk. The world’s sweetest cat, but not quite talented enough to open his special kidney care food all on his own. No one was left to love him right if Mikey went away, so he stayed put. 

Don regularly got too swooped up in his projects and missed hours entirely, even before everything else. He couldn’t feed himself at the right times without Mikey sliding post it notes or leaving saran wrapped bowls in the fridge for him to graze on, let alone a pet. Raph… slept. More than he probably should. Crept around in the shadows and worked himself half to death at whatever odd jobs he found when he wasn’t. And Dad was— well. Mikey wasn’t sure how Dad felt most of the time. He couldn’t leave Klunk with him either way. 

(There’d been a long warm stretch of sepia toned years where he’d have thought of Dad and warmth as the same words spelled in different ways. None of the words fit together like that anymore.

If he closes his eyes, he’s back there. Nursing a fractured elbow and staring up at the sky like it could house a miracle. Listening to the static coated goodbye message of someone none of them could bear to lose. None of them ever left the island, not really. They’re all watching the sky tearing itself apart and drifting farther away.)

Once, he’d have said that Klunk was spoiled rotten, completely overflowing with love and attention in all the ways the smartest cat in the world should be. Before Klunk needed special diet wet food only, Don had rigged up an automatic feeder for him and a machine that would give him scritches behind his ears if Mikey was away on a mission too long. Raph would let him climb all over his shoulders when he worked out and send Snapchat selfies to their group chat of the two of them with silly captions most days. 

Leo used to call him Sunspot. 

Finding Klunk had been something special, he used to brag about it a lot. Kismet souls colliding, he’d say because he read it somewhere on an artist's post and adopted it for them. A soul cat, because Klunk was the perfect cat and so sweet, and always rubbed his fluffy head right under Mikey’s chin when he was stressed over a drawing or a comic cliffhanger or when he was sorting through grocery lists. 

Now, it’s hard to think anything cosmic could have ever minded him. He thinks it’s the way things go: something good comes in, and it can’t stay.

Mikey can’t make it stay.

The regular day in December stands out even without the semi circles funneling back. A regular day is also a bad day; most days float somewhere ambiguously between barely manageable and knock down all out brawls to claw through the evening. There’s something frigid around each step forwards, even before Mikey knows. 

When Mikey wakes up he knows that Dad hasn’t moved since last evening, his room still and dark, and Don’s circular stages have taken him all the way back to bargaining. He’s lost in another project around timelines and paradoxes that Mikey knows will only sink him down further into that barbed wire place the grief sits. He’s fixated on something, a project to help dad’s memory maybe. Or to mend his own. The way Donnie’s eyes land just to the left of Mikey’s face when he stops by still cranks up the dread in his chest like a vat of acid boiling over. 

(‘I can fix this,’ he’ll say, not with words but in the set of his jaw and the sudden feverish flicker of his hands. It never lasts, it’ll tire him out worse and drag him farther out to sea to believe it. “There’s a new study,” he says instead. “They found proof, traces of old collapsed universes.” Mikey will nod, carefully wedging himself on the ledge of Don’s empty cup laden desk, trying not to drum his fingers or let any of his nerves through. 

“There’s been ones, maybe just like ours. Expanding all the way outward and sinking back in, the science is there.” 

Mikey will steel himself, brace for impact. “The science for what, Don.”

He can never say it, Donnie can never make himself believe it. There’s another universe out there to him where he’s still one part of two wholes; it’s not the one that Mikey got for them.)

Don’s mostly outside himself these days. He says a lot of harsh words and burr laced insults for the want of being alone. Mikey can’t fault him for it, has only ever been grateful that he has the miracle of Don sticking with them anyways. It’s hard not to think Donnie knows, with every inch he creeps forward into this halflife. The magnitude Mikey failed him.

He’s never blamed Donnie.

He ends up calling April, just for the excuse to be somewhere else for a minute. To satiate his guilty, constant urge to run. She’s always happy to have him, even though she doesn’t come by much anymore, even though she glances at him sideways sometimes with a resigned sort of helpless loss he can’t hold enough of for both of them. The relief is enough, to know there’s a world still outside of the haunted house his life has become, even if he also wants it to stop.

She hands him tea, brewed exactly like he likes it (like Leo taught him to like best) and he listens to the clock ticking loudly on her yellow painted wall. He still thinks he could run. He always thinks he could run. He can’t leave Klunk. 

Klunk’s getting old.

April takes a breath in, pauses. Gives him another quick side glance before saying, “How’re things?” All hesitantly and unsure, like she thinks Mike might be mad. He doesn’t have it in him to be mad about anything anymore, least of all his big sister that won’t come home. 

He manages a shrug for her. It’s been okay, he means to say, because it’s what he always says. 

“Worried it’s too cold down there for Klunk,” he says instead. 

April’s eyes widen slightly before she schools herself. Her hands are tight around her own mug. “You can bring him up here, Mom won’t mind.” 

(She’s been taking care of her mother lately, she’d had a bad fall. June was always happy to see Mikey just like April was. Everyone was always happy to see him. He wonders if they would still if they knew.)

Klunk would love the windows. All the smells and the carpet. They’d remember to feed him, too. Could probably get him the vet care he needs, and would have the funds to fix whatever might be wrong. It would be an excuse for Mikey to— 

No, he smiles ruefully. He was never going to run. 

(He can’t be the thing that leaves, he knows he’s always going to be the thing that's left.) 

“Thanks, Apricot,” he pats her knee. “Think that might be a big scare for him, is all.” 

She nods like she knew what his answer would be already. “Well, if you change your mind. He’s always welcome.” 

You’re always welcome, she means. Like she has to say it, like things have strained so far apart it might be a question anymore. 

Like it maybe doesn’t go both ways. 

The old him would have had some inspirational thing to say, some soft spoken hand-held speech to convince her that her place with them will never change. The new him knows they lost all of their words the moment the purple in the sky ripped apart into orange and green. He mostly just lets her hold his hand and pretend like the pieces of their hurt are something that can be scooped into anything meaningful. 

“Love seeing you, M,” she says kindly, every time, but he knows Casey stays there most weekends when he works late at his new job, and the unspoken everything between them is making her choose between family in a way she shouldn’t need to. She has a job, a career now. She has responsibilities they never had as kids when she could drop her bags off at the dinner table and slouch her way onto their overstuffed couch. She can’t be there and up here helping Casey sort things out, she can’t be there and watch them anymore than Mikey can.

(The thing about grieving is that it never folds up small enough to carry only within yourself. It spills out, black holes and whirlpools in everything you’ve ever loved. It hurts everyone with you, and there’s nowhere for the love or the blame to go.)

It’s hard for her, too. Big sisters and big brothers and all. It’s hard for Mikey to let himself be little anymore. He can manage.

He never stays longer than a few hours, drives the smaller motorcycle Donnie made for them years ago so nobody will miss him too much. Don has trackers upon trackers, and the loss has made his need to know a more paranoid fragile thing, but he never asks. 

Going home isn’t anything— Don’s stuck on the evening to late night shifts at his remote gig, which suits his sleep schedule mostly alright. It means he won’t be around for Mike to talk to, because the job restructuring means that he has to take incoming calls instead of the management role he’d been promised. Raph hasn’t said anything more than a hollow ‘hey’ at him in weeks. He pretends the way he has Dad’s schedule mapped out in his mind as a series of Do Not Enter’s is normal. 

The radio plays a song he’s growing to hate. He takes the long way home and turns the volume up.

It’s winter, there’s the barest hint of snow in the air that twirls under the streetlight on their garage’s street. He remembers the first time they ever came up top in the winter, the way his hand had been firmly wrapped in Raph’s mitted one because he’d wandered off so much as a kid. The way Leo had tried to dare Mikey to stick his tongue to a fence and Donnie had burst into a series of lectures about frostbite. He remembers the smirk Leo gave him, the secret one he used to have only for baby brothers, before he’d shoved a handful of snow down the back of Raph’s too big parka. 

The winter is just cold now. The snow only means driving will be harder in the morning— he tries to remember if he has ingredients for anything special for dinner and gives up. No one will eat it anyways.

April likes to give him care packages for the weeks he doesn’t stop by, and thoughtfully includes a special goodie bag of cat toys and treats. He’s been using them sparingly, mostly because Don says they don’t have the budget for the kind of treats Klunk likes. He wonders if Donnie has factored in the pizza he hasn’t been ordering— mostly because he keeps defaulting to toppings Leo likes and losing his appetite— but he’s not sure it matters. Regardless, it feels like an anniversary of something. 

Tonight is a good night to spoil his best pal, an early Christmas present. 

The Lair is empty and dark when he wanders in, and the sigh he lets out echoes into nothing. Klunk doesn’t meow happily and trot over to him like he used to, but he’s older now and sometimes naps under Mikey’s bed where it’s warm. The familiar tuft of greying orange appears like clockwork the moment Mikey has a throw over his legs and a crinkling package in his hands.

“There you are, buddy,” Mikey coo’s at him, leaning down to lift him onto his lap. Jumping is harder for him, he’s done enough research about kitty arthritis and its signs. Klunk’s getting old in all the ways Mikey feels. 

He’ll be twenty five next year. Every stolen second feels like an eternity and nothing at all. 

His big brother had been sixteen: the year Mikey turned sixteen, he’d spent the entire day curled up on Leo’s bed. Raph had left a lopsided cupcake in the doorway with a single candle, and sat down on the floor beside him without saying anything. They stopped counting Donnie’s. 

(Leo used to sing him to sleep sitting on the floor beside him, just there. He’d wake up bleary as anything at two in the morning and find him with his head tilted back, tapping the beat to his favorite song softly on the sheets by Mikey’s ankle, scrolling through his phone. The missing of it is a hole he’ll spend his whole life dancing around, he understands why Raph sleeps.) 

Holding Klunk feels like nothing, his skin holding a heartbeat and a warm pocket of love in between his bones, and nothing else. He’s still soft; Mikey presses his face into the back of Klunk’s head and thinks about universes. 

(In the morning, Klunk will be gone. He’ll do Mikey the favor of not having to contend with medical details they don’t have access to, or the horrible long drawn out playing god decision he doesn’t want to make. Quietly slipping out the back door, smartest boy in the world as always. Mikey will doze off on the couch and find him, and tears he doesn’t think he has left in him will burst through anyways, and he’ll sit for hours just outside of Donnie’s door without ever daring to make a sound. 

Raph will find him, of all people. He won’t remember throwing himself into the crush of Raph’s arms, or the way he’ll press his beak into the divot of his shoulder. He’ll remember his heart spilling over and shattering in the cold winter air and think that he only has his family when they’re all sinking down with him.)

He’s alone in his loving of Klunk. Klunk’s always been his. Maybe it will be a comfort to think of a pawprint just his size living inside Mikey’s heart, or to imagine Leo lurking nearby, just outside of Mikey’s broken ninpo. Ready to scoop his Sunspot into his arms and doze off on the couch together again. Maybe Don will stumble out for his mid day coffee and find Mikey curled over something that’s already wandered away, and remember himself outside his grief long enough to hold Mikey under his chin like he used to. 

In the morning is a long time away. 

When he’d found Klunk it had been on a day like this. Mid December, frosty outside in the thin sheet of snow that ever existed in New York. It had been a lot louder then. April and Dad and  Hueso, and a family that existed in shared spaces like it was the one place they always fit. Warmer and lighter, lights thrown on and noise everywhere. 

Now, he keeps blankets stocked on his favorite corner of the couch, and folds them up neat for guests they don’t have. He gets colder, easier. 

He’s had Klunk for twelve years. They’d been coming back from April’s place, the new lair still feeling expansive and unexplored, feeling light and jazzed up in the way youth does. He remembers that there’d been a mugging in an alleyway, that the fight with Shredder was still fresh on their minds. Mikey’d been all but unstoppable. He’d shared a half glance with Leo before his big brother had smiled back, all smiling easy confidence as he opened up a portal for him and said ‘showin’ them the Angie special?’. 

He almost hadn’t seen the cat behind the dumpster at all until he’d thrown one of the thugs into a wall and the ka-thunk of the lid had scared the thing straight out into Mikey’s arms. The way he’d immediately started purring while Mikey had stood there stunned made his brothers snicker.

‘Told you to stop going dumpster diving, Angie, he thinks you smell like munched up fish food,’ Leo’d joked. 

‘Great, another thing for Raph to be allergic to,’ Donnie had sighed. 

‘Raph’s not allergic!’ Raph had complained, eyes watering. ‘This is adorable! He matches your mask, little man.’ 

Mikey had held the tiny, scrunched up ball of hackled fur and gotten an almost instant green eyed blink back. ‘Yeah? How’s that sound, buddy? Wanna match with me?’ 

The cat had sneezed, and carefully stretched a paw up to hook onto the ledge of Mikey’s plastron. He remembered thinking Gram Gram might have sent him at first, or that they’d found each other in some other past life, or that he had a magic way with cats. He thinks now that Klunk just loved like that. 

Big and open, bright enough for the whole world.

Leo and Klunk had spent a lot of time together, he remembers. When he was smaller and more likely to spring up on all of them around corners and fight their bandanas from the backs of their shells, it seemed like he ran off an endless battery. With Leo’s chronic issues with sleep, it made for a perfect pair. 

Sometimes he’d wander in to fry up breakfast, turn on the big overhead lights in the kitchen, and find Leo curled up just outside on the couch. Klunk bundled in a tiny ball right on his stomach, snoring with him. 

Semi circles stretching out beyond the horizon. His blankets stay folded.

Klunk rumbles at him now, wide green eyes staring at him as he stretches slowly on his lap. Mikey lets him purr and nudge his cheek into his finger happily. “Long day of catching Z’s, my man? Least one of us has it all figured out.” 

Klunk pads at his legs, curling slowly into the divot and settling down. Burying his face between his paws as the TV lights bounce off his fur in the background. 

He doesn’t move very fast anymore. He can’t jump, he doesn’t eat all of his food. Mikey watches his sweet boy pace aimlessly around stone floors like he can’t remember where to go. Everything Mikey has in his day to day is someone else's, but Klunk has always been his. 

“I love you,” Mikey tells the sunshine burst of peppered fur right there on his lap. “I wish you could stay.”

Tomorrow, he’ll have to consider how thin Klunk is getting, or the way he paces aimlessly, or the rabbit-quick way he breathes. Tomorrow, he might creep into Raph’s room and see if his big brother is awake enough to let him crawl into bed beside him like he used to, like he’s still small enough to want things and ask for them.

Tomorrow he’ll have to be okay with another kind of missing, even if he doesn’t want to. 

Right now, Klunk is warm against his knee. He’s loved because Mikey loves him. They don’t have anywhere else they’re supposed to be.

Mikey scratches the top of Klunk’s head and tries to be something warm enough to stick around for. He knows the leaving is not up to either of them anyway.

__

There’s a gentler world, one where Mikey gets to know he was always strong enough. One where there’s no floodwaters to sink in, no need to float. 

An unfamiliar turtle brings his big brother home, and there’s nothing at all to miss. 

Sometimes Mikey wakes up feeling lost, a deep dark place he can’t name sputtering and going dark for all of a moment, terrifying him in a way he can’t explain. The kitchen lights, he thinks, nonsensically, and scrambles out of bed in a flurry just to make sure they’re still on. 

It’s never cold here, not even in the winter. The couch is messy with snack bowls they forgot to put away, and dragged in blankets from all of their bedrooms. He shivers anyways. 

Days like this he thinks of ripples in pond water. Big long stretches of silver circles spinning out infinitely. He thinks about the news on TV he heard the other day, about universes from millennia ago: there’s an old sob caught in his ribs he thinks must not belong to him. 

The door slides open, a quiet click. 

Gio stands there, strangely soaking wet and bedraggled in a way Mikey’s sure he’s never seen. In the six months he’s known the guy, he’s always been a steady, stoic source of calm and cool. Sometimes it’s funny to watch, Gio with his flat expression in between the twins, bouncing and raving off some bit only they understand, hands on his shoulders like he’s a launching pad for their next insanity. He always thinks Gio looks happy underneath it, though, the kind that’s soul deep.

Dark eyes blink at him in the darkness across the Lair. “Oh,” Gio says, simply. “You’re up.” 

Mikey plods forwards, as unafraid as anything with Gio. “You’re freezing,” he gasps, pulling at Gio’s scarf. It’s bunched up strangely at his front, he hopes he didn’t rip it again. Gio had gotten all quiet sad last time, which was a travesty worth committing several crimes for. “Were you sewer swimming? It’s December!” 

Gio shakes his head, pauses. Nods. Mikey plants his hands firmly on his hips with his lower lip jut out— Gio always gives him a strange look when he lectures him like this, but he listens. Mikey sees him listen. “Turtles don’t do well in winter, you know. If you froze into a popsicle, I’d have to fish you out, and that would definitely bother Raph.” 

“Sorry,” Gio says, all fond and sly like a secret he’s keeping. “Emergency.” 

He holds the wet front of his scarf out, and a tiny orange head pushes through. “Oh,” Mikey says. 

Green eyes blink at him, it sneezes. 

“You found a cat.” 

Gio shrugs. “He found me.” 

Mikey reaches forward tentatively, the poor thing's hair sticks straight up on the top of its head. Damp as anything. The cat sniffs at his hand, then rumbles happily at him, pushing its face directly into his palm. 

Gio pushes the pile of fabric into Mikey’s arms. “He looks like you.” 

Yeah, he thinks of ponds and ripples and universes. He does, doesn’t he. 

[inevestigator]

the little things questionnaire .

repost, don't reblog.

favourite tea . spiced imperial. a tevinter speciality, black tea with vanilla, spices and citrus. warm, but with a hint of sharpness and sweetness.

favourite coffee . black. no frills, she might add a sugar lump if she can get it, but in this case 'favourite' might be substituted for 'easiest' and 'cheapest'. usually boiled. sometimes iced.

favourite sweet snack . gooseberry pie. tart and sharp, but softened by a sugary pastry crust. sometimes with cream, honey or even iced cream. best served fresh.

favourite savory snack . fried fish. halos' fish, fried or grilled, served on a stick or wrapped in old newspapers. some people might say she only eats one thing, but she'll argue why mess with perfection?

favourite flower . clematis cirrhosa. winter blooming. especially with speckled petals on white variants. the beauty of ingenuity. and a powerful scent to boot.

favourite colours . teal. specifically the colour of her scarf, but it's also the colour of the sea when the sunlight breaks through the clouds.

favourite fruit . oranges. see? she doesn't have scurvy.

favourite vegetable . cauliflower. but only when paired with cheese.

favourite season . winter. it may seem cliche for an ice mage but when it comes to minrathous, fall and spring are incredibly wet, it rains all the time and makes it hard to work effectively, and summer is hot and slightly drier (slightly) but that just makes the smells worse. winter is colder, but drier.

favourite time of day . sunrise. usually one side of it or the other, out late or up early, there's nothing like the first rays of sun shining off the mist over the docks.

favourite kind of weather . sunny. it doesn't happen often in dock town, but when it does, it really highlights the hidden beauty (and hidden alleys). but even outside of the city, the sun is something she doesn't take for granted.

love language(s) to give . quality time. she's so busy and wrapped up in her work that stopping to spend time with her loved one is important to her. it shows that she's thinking about them even when busy.

love language(s) to receive . acts of service. someone stepping in to help her? even or especially if she doesn't act for it? it breaks through the walls and the armour faster than anything else. show her you're there for her without her having to ask and she's yours.

specific niche love language . co-sleeping. she doesn't sleep enough, she knows it. bring her to bed with you. cuddle. relax. remind her that it's okay to take a break and then hold her while you sleep.

favourite hobbies . what's a hobby? in all serious, it's probably reading. curled up in an armchair, sitting in the bath or lying in bed with a book is her ideal evening.

favourite book(s) . sherlock holmes, tevinter serial edition. (no, but did anyone else hear the ambient dialogue where that one guy was talking about having written a character so popular he killed him off because he hated him and then the readers begged for him to come back? it exists, is all i'm saying. )

favourite song(s) . on the midnight stage. a semi-popular song in minrathous establishments. a song about being the last one out at closing time. lingering. lonely. but a reminder that home can mean different things to different people.

favourite musician . cida ciconia. not only because she knows her personally but because she genuinely likes her music. she can be heard humming it when she doesn't think anyone is listening.

favourite animals . cat. most people who look at her assume it's snakes and she does like snakes, but that's also just the tevinter in her. she acts like she's aloof but she feeds scraps to the cats and checks on them regularly. contrary to what the weekly truth might imply, she can't speak to them though.

favourite insect . firefly. small lights in the darkness, like the stars have come down to hover just above the ground. they're pretty. she likes them a lot.

favourite terrain . urban. city. she doesn't get on with forests or wild landscapes. she was born in a city and she's pretty sure she'll die in one. but she might be convinced to vacation to a beach or lakeside spot. as long as there's still civilisation nearby.

tagged : @tarlasdahl tagging : you!

[charcoalhawk]

Don’t listen to a word I say, the screams all sound the same

Wulf lives his life in missed moments, and then, he doesn’t live in any moment at all.

Content warning: death, murder

Title is from Little talks by Of Monsters and Men

Wulf knows he had a real name, once. Even mean people like the butcher who always overcharged mama had a name, but Wulf can’t remember his anymore.

But mama had always called him her little wulf, and during their special nights every month when they all moved on all fours and howled at the moon, he sometimes wished he could always be one.

He wasn’t even two hands old when he lost mama and his siblings to That Man. He had broken into their little home in the woods and hit mama so horribly on the head that she never got up again. He and his siblings had tried to run, but two loud bangs had them collapsing from where they were running beside him.

The only reason he survived was because he did the one thing mama told him to never do. That Man had caught him as he was trying to shake his sister Rosè awake, yelling horrible words as he shook Wulf. And in that moment Wulf had been so overcome with rage he disobeyed the most important rule.

He’d managed to twist and sink his tiny teeth into That Man’s arm, biting down as hard as he could.

That Man had screamed and hit Wulf, but it must not have been too hard because he woke up just as the sun was setting.

That Man’s body was lying a few feet away, face frozen in a horrible scream and body stiffer than frozen wood.

He had left That Man there to rot for what he had done, then very carefully carried his siblings back to their house.

It took him three whole days to dig a hole big enough for his family, but when he finally finished it he carefully brought them all down and arranged them like he cuddles piles they would have after every full moon.

After filling the hole he searched the whole forest until he found the three perfect rocks. And carefully rolled them to lie over where his family was buried.

For a long time no one else comes to their house. Wulf keeps it as clean as he can in honor of his mama, and the forest provides enough so he doesn’t starve.

No one from town ever comes out to look for him or even for his mama, something that both makes Wulf’s heart ache yet he’s immensely grateful for.

The seasons shift and Wulf grows and settles into his quiet life. The most he ever sees of other people is when the leaves shift and deer run aplenty. Then he’ll catch the occasional howl of hunting dogs or the bang that always brings back horrible memories.

Those are the few months he dreads the full moon, because the forest is never quiet, and he fears catching any kind of unwanted attention.

But all good things must come to an end. It's a warm spring night, with the full moon round and heavy overhead, when Wulf hears a cry shatter the calm of the night and sends birds fleeing into the sky in droves.

Although he knows nothing good will come of it, his curiosity drives him to find the source of that horrid sound. As he draws closer the cloying scent of blood begins to overwhelm all other senses.

He ends up finding them in a clearing. A young boy is hunched over a crumpled figure, as blood slowly covers the forest floor around them.

Wulf pokes his head out of the foliage, trying to get a better look. A gleam of metal directs him to the weapon lying next to the two, as a picture starts to form in Wulf’s mind.

In this form he can’t speak, but maybe he can get the boy to follow him and he can bring the older man over his back. He thinks he remembers the path to town, mama made sure he remembered where deer-tree was, because it meant you were getting too close to town on your own.

Plan made, Wulf huffs loudly to alert the boy so as not to surprise him. It works almost too well, and the boy yelps when he locks eyes with Wulf.

“Oh- oh please don’t eat me señor wolf, an-and you can’t have my dad either!”

Wulf shakes his head at that, why would he ever eat a skinny human when there’s so many deer around.

“Oh! Uh, you, you understand me?”

Wulf nods his head rapidly, then makes a point to gesture at the downed man then at his side.

“You’ll help? Oh thank you thank you!”

With the boy now understanding that Wulf means him no harm he moves more confidently into the clearing, the moon illuminating his midnight fur. Maybe after this he can invite the boy and who he assumes is the boy’s father to his home. Maybe he could even go back into the village and start getting the good meat from the butcher and he wouldn’t get overcharged and-

BANG

It takes a second for the pain to hit, but then Wulf collapses where he stood, a burning line of fire shooting though his entire body, radiating from his side.

“Glad I- I always keep a silver spare.”

It’s the older man, barely sitting up, clutching that weapon like a lifeline.

“But dad! He- he was just trying to help! Why did you shoot him!”

The boy is by his side, pressing an already bloody hand into the wound.

“It’s a monster, son. And you would do well to remember that. Now, help me up, we need to go report this to the bishop.”

“But if we don't help him he’s gonna die!”

“Bah. It’s better than it deserves. Now help me up now or so help me god you can go join it!”

The boy rests one last hand on Wulf’s injured side, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll come back, I’ll bring bandages and I’ll-!”

The bigger man rips the boy away, crushing grip tight against the boy’s slight frame. He shoves the boy ahead, away from Wulf.

Wulf whines and pants as the minutes drift by. The wound had slowly ebbed from a burning inferno into shooting pain with each breath. He can feel the moon begin to set around him, taking away its cool light and leaving Wulf cold and empty.

As the sun begins to rise Wulf swears he can feel other breaths around him, a rough tongue working out the knots in his fur. It reminds him of peaceful nights with his family, and as the sun rises, Wulf’s breaths slow.

With his eyes closed, it feels like his family is still curled around him.