#when u start yawning its such a relief

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

GUESS WHO JUST WORKED THROUGH A PANIC ATTACK IN UNDER AN HOUR 🥳🥳🥳

[jubburb]

》 "-ARE YOU COLD, MY DEAR?"

• @jubburb

ask: none.

sypnosis: waking up with your husband one morning and going on a walk in the snow.

a/n: ive been procrastinating this foreva, ik its short but I just want this out of the drafts so I can start writing more fics😼

warnings: female reader in mind when writing, but I'm not sure if I put any fem pronouns, just cute fluffy fluffness 😺

notes: ooc zhongli? definitely? maybe? idk.. u tell me

When fall hits Liyue, it can get pretty chilly pretty fast. The degrees quickly drop to fifty degrees and lower, previously being in around the eighties or nineties.

It's quite a sudden change. But a pleasant one, especially for tourists who come around during the seasons.

-

One quiet morning, you and your husband, Zhongli, are lazing about in your shared king bed. Zhongli was reading a book, idly playing with your hair with one hand, while you were still trying to wake up, laying your head on his broad chest.

"Mm.." You groan sleepily, reaching a hand up to rub your eye.

"Are you finally awake, my dear?" Zhongli chuckles, halting his hand that was intertwined with the tresses of your hair.

You simply nod, yawning, and sit up against his chest, feeling his hand snake around your waist to hold you closer.

"Do you have work today?" You ask, blinking a couple of times to actually fully wake up, staring up at him and he nods with a hum.

"I am, in fact, off today. What do you suppose we do?" He asks, placing the book down to give you his full attention.

"Sleep in?" You request with a chuckle, and Zhongli jokingly sighs, shaking his head no.

"Something productive, please, my dear." He says, playing with a strand of your hair once more.

"Sleeping is productive, Li." You retort, rolling your eyes, tempted to fall back into a deep slumber just to spite your husband.

There's silence for a moment as Zhongli thinks.

"-Oh, I know, what about a walk around the harbor? I'm sure nobody is awake during these early hours, so it'll be calm, quiet, and peaceful. Just the two of us." Zhongli smiles, cupping your cheek, his slightly calloused palm brushing against your soft skin.

"..Thats.." You start, ".. Not that bad of an idea."

"Knew it."

You only roll your eyes at his response, "Well, I guess we better get our lazy asses out of bed before it's too late and people start getting to work."

"You're the only lazy ass here." Zhongli chuckles with a whisper under his breath, getting out of bed before you could do anything about what he said.

"Oh you mother-"

-

As you two walk around the harbor, you did not expect it to start snowing..

The pretty white snowflakes started to dance across the sky before ultimately finding use on the ground, creating a soft blanket of snow covering the docks and pathways.

Aaaaand.. you forgot your mittens.. your hands were freezing, but if you told Zhongli, he would give you that: "i tOld yOu sO" bullshit.

Before you guys even left the house, Zhongli insisted you bring mittens, because, to quote him, "You don't even know how cold it is in the morning, love."

And of course, you just had to defy him, insisting that you'll be fine without mittens.

You really regret it now..

Even though you were clad in a comfy coat, your hands that were freezing seemed to freeze your entire body, and you were quivering every step you and your husband took as you walked around.

Zhongli looked through the shop windows, not really seeming to notice at first, but then he eventually heard your teeth starting to chatter together, and glanced back at you.

"..Are you cold, my dear?" Zhongli asks, staring at you with a concerned look.

"I-m f-ine.." You respond, your teeth clamming together continuously.

He glances down at your hands that were trembling the most, reaching his mitten covered hands hold them, and you immediately feel a sense of relief.

Zhongli smiles softly, chuckling a bit, and leaned forward to kiss your forehead, "I told you to wear the mittens."

"I kn-ow.." You chatter, before moving closer to cuddle into his chest, the two of you still holding hands, standing there for a while in the wintery streets.

Zhongli hums softly, his nose nuzzled into your hair as he smells your shampoo and conditioner, snow falling over his long brown hair and back.

You could fall asleep right there in the arms of your husband, but you'd rather get home before you get all lovey dovey, so you pull away, looking up at his handsome amber eyes.

"Let's head back, Li.." You say, and Zhongli nods, continuing to hold your hand.

He even not-so discreetly maneuvered it into the large pocket of his coat, so your hand could be even warmer as you two walked.

You smile softly, and lean your head on your husband's shoulder.

The two of you only left footsteps in your wake as you find comfort in eachother.

- signed by c♡

[k0yaz]

can u write for denji? 🥺 maybe smthing with fluff in the beginning like an ice cream date or fireworks show or smthing and then ends in a one shot?

breathtaking

Pairing(s): denji x fem!reader

CW: fem reader, established relationship, detailed soft kissing idk?? nothing really just fluff

A/N: also before anyone starts whining about the fact that “they didn’t say the reader gender!!!” Trust me I know they requested fem reader.

“Denji…Denji. Sweetheart, wake up.”

Denji’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of your soft voice, looking over lazily at your calm expression. He stretched his arms out, parting his lips to let out a loud yawn before collapsing his head back onto your shoulder.

You giggled at your boyfriend’s drowsy demeanor as you poked his cheek with your pointer finger quickly, causing him to jolt up almost immediately. Denji’s gaze flickered over to you with heavy lidded eyes before whining slightly.

“But I’m sleepy…and the ice cream line is taking forever!”

Denji drawled in a baby like voice, running his fingers through his scruffy blonde locks.

You smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder, circling your thumb on the ruffled fabric of his shirt. He glanced back at you, his expression still disappointed from the massive line.

Before you could comfort him, a bright and colorful van idly remained parked with a much shorter line, and to your relief, a large display of an ice cream container in the corner.

Thank god, this adorable idiot will calm down now.

You nudged Denji’s shoulder as he looked over at you with his eyes slightly squinted from the breeze against his face.

“Huh? What is it, love?”

He asked, looking down at you with his crimson pupils dilated like a puppy.

Not even a second later, you were simply heaving a sigh and smiling, with your hand pressed against your forehead, creasing it slightly as your boyfriend almost squealed from happiness.

“Finally-! Oh my god babe, I think you’re a magician!”

Denji laughed cheerfully, before brushing his rough hand against your own. He took your palm in his, squeezing tightly with both of your fingers interlocked. Within seconds, you felt arm being stretched forward as Denji pulled you quickly to the ice cream truck.

Your heart fluttered upon seeing his childish antics, following his lead before skidding to a halt at the foot of the truck.

After you both had gotten your ice cream, you peacefully sat shoulder to shoulder at the bench with Denji, enjoying the flavor of the treat as the serene atmosphere paired with the comforting silence allowed you to examine his gorgeous features.

His sleepy crimson eyes, his scruffy blonde hair flowing slightly in the wind, his pointy teeth…

No, everything was breathtaking about your boyfriend.

You were snapped out of your trance when his head spun over to you, giving you a confused glance.

“Sweetheart? Is everything okay?”

Denji asked with a inquisitive tone. A smudge of vanilla ice cream was situated on his cheek, which he seemed to be completely unaware of as he continued to stare at you for answers.

Without thinking, you instinctively leaned in and pressed your lips against his cheek, licking away the ice cream stain as you felt the gradual heat on your lips. When your eyes opened, your pupils widened at the sight of Denji’s skin obtaining a more reddish hue.

You immediately pulled away while Denji sat there with his face as red as a tomato, and his body completely tensed up. It took a solid 10 seconds for you to let what you just did sink in.

What the fuck is wrong with me-? You thought to yourself in the current awkward moment you put yourself into.

“U-Uh Denji- dear- I didn’t-“

A warm, soft sensation pressed against your lips before you could finish your sentence.

Denji’s lips locked against yours, engulfing all of your senses in a warm and fuzzy feeling as you kissed back passionately. Your left hand made its way behind his head, fingers tangling in his hair, and your eyes closing with your lips pressing further up against his.

The kiss lasted almost an eternity, as the soft glint of the moon shone on your skin, while Denji’s hands were situated on your shoulders firmly.

Suddenly, you jolted backwards upon hearing a loud bang ring throughout the area, looking around frantically for what startled you.

The explosion crackled loudly once again, which caught your attention in the corner of your eye.

A firework.

Within moments, you and Denji stared up at the night sky as colorful explosions were scattered across the clearing. The flickering colors reflected in both yours and Denji’s eyes while you both were completely mesmerized by the fireworks.

You suddenly heard Denji’s voice quietly murmur under his breath.

“The next one may be for us..”

A large group of bright red fireworks shot into the sky, exploding in the shape of a heart and causing Denji to tightly hug your arm before whispering in a romantic tone of voice.

“I knew that they’d show how much I love you…”

[lolawassad]

The new guys

Part One Part Two

Also please tell me how you feel about the way this fic went, its angsty and idk if u guys like it, if u guys r like boo angst i wont do alot of angst again!!

Five is 5'11 and void is 6'4 (five draco and mattheo are 19 and reader and pansy are 18 and void is 20 like the other boys pansy reader five are 4th years and the rest are 5th years. Yes i know ages and years are supposed to match but this is my story guyss:() h/b is hot beverage bc not everyone is into coffee

Also void his name is stiles and he is Mieczyslaw's twin brother:)

MINORS DNI smut haha mommy kink go brrrr, fluff and angst angst angst

Slytherin gang x reader

3rd pov

After spending a night cuddling with your not offical partners, you get out of bed early because Dumbledore has requested your presence at his office

You get dressed quietly but mattheo still wakes up "y-you leaving us?" he asks softly with a heartbroken tone "you cant fucking leave us, you will never find anyone even close to us" he says with a stern tone

You give him a kiss "i gotta go see dumbledore" you tell him making him sigh in relief "thank fuck, be a good girl put on one of our tops, preferably a sweater its cold" he tells you still whispering and pointing at the clothing pile on your desk, it got hot before you all went to sleep so they took of their clothes leaving them in their underwear

You smile and take off the shirt you had put on and grab the pink sweater pansy had on earlier, you grab a tank top and put it on then the sweater on top tucking both into your skirt, mattheo gives you a thumbs up before pointing at his lips

You walk over and give him a peck before he slaps your ass softly and shoos you off

You walk out of the hufflepuff common room with a smile on your face, when you reach dumbledores office you find two tall guys standing outside it arguing

"lemon drops" you says with a yawn making the doors open, the boys turn to you with wide jaws, their eyes scanning your chubby frame and thick thighs

"morning headmaster" you say while entering the office, he pours you a cup of h/b "goodmorning dear, five, stiles you may enter" professor dumbledore says with sparkles in his eyes

You take a sip of the not too hot beverage and smile "are they new?" you ask making dumbledore nod "yes they are to be sorted today, and they need to be shown around i thought maybe you could do that?" he asks making you nod

"ofcourse i can" you reply "you boys ready to get sorted?" dumbledore asks the boys making them nod

They smirk before walking up to dumbledore who is now holding the sorting hat "five hargreeves" he calls out

The shorter boy of the two sits down "SLYTHERIN" the hat yells out immediately, five smiles

"stiles stilinski" he calls out next, the taller boy sits down the hat starts speaking and you can see stiles talking back "SLYTHERIN" it calls out again

Dumbledore smiles and nods at you "thank you for agreeing to showing them around my dear"

You beam at him before turning to the boys "well lets go!" you say before walking to the door of the office, you go to open it but it opens already

"ah hey princess, what a coincidence" theo says with a smile, the rest of the gang standing behind him all looking smug

Stiles and five walk up behind you "you know we didnt catch your name" five says

"pretty sure she didnt throw it buddy" mattheo spits out

You just ignore the commotion and walk out of dumbledores office "i gotta show them around, be nice, im y/n l/n, im a 4th year hufflepuff" you say with a smile

"if you follow me i can show you the classes, then the way to every common room" you offer, before starting to walk away

"i think the one with the nose scar didnt particularly like us" five speaks up "thats mattheo, he doesnt really like new people" you tell them

After you showed them around you lead them to the great hall, thats now open for breakfast "you can sit with me if you want" you offer the boys

They look at eachother with a smirk "we would love to" stiles answers for both of them

You sit down at the hufflepuff table, the two of them sitting next to you before your seven partners join too

"i see you made some friends" draco says spitting the last word, blaise slaps his shoulder before leaning over the table "hey babydoll" he greets you and pecks your lips "after breakfast wanna meet me in the room of requirements?" he asks making you nod

You introduce everyone and they start talking, you squirming in your seat while blaise keeps staring at you with a smirk

"so.. How does this actually work?" stiles asks looking at the poly couple

Tom smirks "well we are all dating, except fuck face and me, he is my little brother" he says flicking mattheo's forehead making him snarl "ill fucking cuck you if you dont watch out" he spits making pansy giggle "ill cuck you both if you keep snarling"

You bury you're head in your arms "guys public" you squeek out making everyone coo

"i mean ill give it to you guys, very impressive being able to handle a eight person relationship" five says

"oh i mean its just us seven" theo says making your heart drop, ofcourse they didnt actually want you, they only want the sex

You feel someone tap your head and you look up blaise looks at you with smirk before holding a strawberry to your lips "gotta atleast eat something" he says "just be a good girl and eat the damn strawberry, or you'll go over my knee" he says when you just stare at him, you open your mouth and take a bite of the strawberry

Blaise smiles "good girl" he praises before swiping some juice off your lips with his thumb and putting it into your mouth, making you lightly suck on it, before remembering you arent alone and pushing his hand away

"y/n and i are gonna leave" blaise says before walking a bit to the end of the table and then walking up to you, offering his hand to you "byebye guys" you say with a shy smile and grabbing blaises hand

He starts fast walking to the room of requirements, when the door opens he pulls you in quickly

The room is just one big matress cube, he wraps his arms around you and falls down, pulling you with him on top of him

One of his hands settle on the back of your thigh, the other goes to your cheek and he your face down to kiss him

Its then the door opens and blaise stops kissing you sitting up, he places his hand on the back of your head pushing it into the crook of his neck

In walk the others and the new guys, blaise scoffs "was gonna fuck my girl in here but yeah sure just come right in" he says before getting up, his hands on your ass and your legs around his waist

The room changes, on the left side is a bed going from the wall to the other wall, in the middle is a big couch a coffee table and a fire place, on the right there is a kitchen

Blaise rolls his eyes before he starts walking to the couch, he sits on the end of it and makes you straddle him "fuck did you guys want huh?" blaise says annoyed when they join them on the couch

"if you wanna get your dick wet so badly you can just do it, we dont mind" void says with a smirk, his arm wrapped around five

Blaise laughs "and let you see my girl? Dont think so mate"

Draco clears his throat "our girl" he corrects blaise, you burry your head deeper into his neck making blaise coo softly

" 'need you" you whine softly, blaise looks at the others who are now deep im conversation, he slides your panties to the side and unzips his pants, he takes out his cock before sliding you down onto him

"that enough babydoll? You need more?" he asks before softly grabbing your hair and pulling you to face him, your eyes are glossy "how you feeling?" he asks "fuzzy" you confess

The interaction causes the attention to shift to you both "yeah? You want me to make you not fuzzy sweetheart?" he asks before kissing your cheek, you nod your head

He lets out a tsk when he notices everyone staring "what even was it you guys came here for again?"

"some guy with a scar was talking about the little cutie so your partners got pissed off, blondie told him 'hey pottah why dont you screw off before i give you another scar, just like first year'" five says with a laugh "he was scared shitless, anyways he got us kicked out of the greathall"

Blaise scoffs again before he gets up, cock still filling your cunt making you moan, he walks up to the bed before pulling out, he takes off his shoes and then yours before he lays on top of you

He slides back in and starts moving his hips "as much as i love your sounds you gotta stay quiet babydoll, i dont want them to hear your moans"

The others start talking again but pansy gets up and jumps on the bed, she starts kissing you to help you keep quiet knowing blaise is very strict and will have you over his knee if you make any sounds

Blaise his hand goes to your chubby tummy and he starts pounding into you harder, five squirms in his seat making void look at him, void notices his boyfriend sporting a boner and whispers to him "dont worry ill let you play later" making five glare at him "you wish, we both know im more dom then you are"

Lorenzo looks over at his partners on the bed "you should start kissing her throat too, she had a soft spot where her jaw meets her throat" he says while casually palming himself, not caring about the new guys

Tom scoffs and slaps his hand from his cock "babyboy you didnt ask premission, you wanna go over my knee?"

Lorenzo scoffs "they didnt ask premission either" he whines "oh no he asked if he could fuck her this morning when you guys where still sleeping, could him he could if he sucked me off" mattheo says with a smirk, blaisr chuckles "gave him the best blowjob he has ever had" he says before hitting your g-spot

You gasp into pansy's mouth "gotta cum gotta cum" you chant making pansy pull away "gotta ask him if you can"

"s-sir please gotta cum" you moan out softly "go ahead" he says giving you premission, pansy's hand reaches down to play with your clit which resulted into blaise slapping her ass "gotta ask me for premission you fucking brat" he says making her smirk

Her fingers move tight circles onto your clit making your legs shake, you grab onto the sheet and grip them tightly "so good so good, thank you" you mewl before letting go, cumming all over blaises cock

"such a good girl" he praises you before leaning down and kissing your lips softly "can i cum in you babydoll?" he asks, his thrusts getting sloppy

"oh god yes! Fill me up please, stuff me sir" you say making him groan before he shoots his cum into you, pansy removes her hand and kisses both of you

Blaise lifts you up, cock still inside before he sits back on the couch, you cockwarming him

Blaise glares at the new guys seeing both of them sporting boners "you liked watching my girl get fucked?" he spits making you slap his chest "b' nice, sir" you say

"hey hey, im not sir, im blaise yeah?" he asks making you look at him "you there y/n?" he asks making you whine "yes"

Mattheo gets up and stands behind blaise, his hand going to your cheek "daddy" you say excitedly "no baby, im mattheo" he says "come back to us"

The room changes again, the beds gone and now has a big bathtub standing there "lets go take a bath okay baby?" blaise asks making you nod

"you two look the fuck away" mattheo snarls to five and void, they both lift up their hands in defense and look away, blaise quickly undresses you and puts you in the already filled bath before undressing too and getting in

Mattheo scoffs before taking off his suit and folding it up, then getting naked and getting in too, one of his hands immediately goes into your hair pulling you to his chest and caressing your hair, before he pulls blaise into him too "both did so good" mattheo coos

One of blaises hands goes to grope your tits while the other goes back to your cunt, sliding a finger in

Mattheo scolds him "hey, babyboy, shes still sensitive be nice" he says making tom laugh "oh yeah like you didnt fuck her in the tub after taking her"

"hey i knew she could give me one more and she did" mattheo snaps back before licking his lips, his hand grabs yours and places it on blaises cock making you move it up and down

Five starts squirming in his seat again making void roll his eyes and unzip five's pants, and pulling out his cock, pansy subtly watches as void starts touching fives cock

Pansy pulls on theo's sleeve and nods to the two boys. Theo smirks as he and void make eye contact, they break eye contact when they hear a loud gasp

"no no 's too much, sir" you gasp out trying to push blaise's hands away but mattheo grabs your wrists and holds them behind your back "hey, be nice, hes making you feel good" he scolds you, he uses his other hand to tightly grab your hair yanking your head back "let them hear you so they know who you belong to" he whispers in your ear

You mewl "thank you, thank you so much" you say making blaise smile "your welcome babydoll" he says while curling his fingers up into you, hitting your g-spot making you throw your head back even more and your mouth opens in a silent moan

Void is still jerking his boyfriend who is watching the bathtub scene "im gonna fucking cum" he grits out before grabbing void by the hair and pulling his head down to his cock, void opens his mouth and lets five fuck his face "fucking swallow every bit" five demands void before cumming down his throat

Five lets go of voids hair and the elder boy removes his mouth from his boyfriends cock before swallowing and wiping his mouth "such a good boy" void coos making five roll his eyes "ur the good boy"

Your legs start shaking and you come all over blaise's fingers "cant anymore cant anymore" you yelp out making blaise pull away, mattheo softly drops his hands making you fall into him, head nuzzling his chest

"that was so hot" lorenzo says with a smirk "next time you should overstimulate her" he continues resulting in you whining "please dont do that"

Before realising that you arent alone with your partners, you slap blaise his chest and go to speak but he shushes you "they didnt mind, they enjoyed the show, dont worry about it babydoll, i mean look at them" he says before pulling you to face void who is now being sucked off by five

Pansy is sitting next to them looking while theo plays with her cunt, mattheo scoffs "who the fuck said you four could do that? You stop sucking him, you stop touching her" he scolds making pansy and theo shoot apart, but five keeps bobbing his head

"fuck you gonna do about it little boy?" void asks mattheo challenging him, blaise pulls you out of the tub, shielding your body with his and pulls his sweater onto you before he puts on his pants, he lifts you up and sits with you between his legs next to pansy and theo

Mattheo gets out of the tub too wearing a smirk, he walks over fully naked to void and grabs his hair "you really wanna be a fucking brat?" he asks making void smirk aswell "im not a brat, but nice try babyboy" void says grabbing ahold of mattheos hair

You look over at pansy who scoffs quietly, she pulls you up going unnoticed by everyone but blaise who just keeps watching mattheo and void

Pansy pulls you infront of the first before pulling you between her legs, your back against her front, your head falls back onto her shoulder "they probably think they are alpha males" pansy whispers to you making you giggle "totally"

Pansy all of a sudden grabs your legs and spreads them over hers "nono i cant anymore" you say "if you really cant anymore just say red okay baby?" she says

Void bucks his hips up into fives throat and cums, shooting his load down his throat while holding eyecontact with mattheo, when five pulls away he swallows which recieves praise from void

"okay mommy" you say making her bite your neck "good girl" one of her hand goes to your cunt while the other goes under blaise's sweater, pansy rubs her finger through your folds before sliding a finger into your hole making you gasp

The attention turns to the two girls, tom tsks "really? You again didnt ask premission pansy.. Why you being such a brat?" he asks

Pansy sticks out her tongue "im just making mommy's good girl feel even better" she tells tom, theo's eyebrow shoots up "mommy? You have a mommy kink, you never told us that" he says confused

Pansy looks down in shame "yeah well i didnt know until now, little hufflepuff here is the one with parent issues not me" she says making you frown "also werent you guys punishing them? Turn your attention back to them"

A switch flicks in your mind and you push pansy's hand away, you rush to grab your shorts and slide them. On before grabbing your other clothes, then slytherins make sounds of confusion and ask what you are doing but you ignore them to run to your dorm

Five grabs void and jumps infront of you, you have just reached your dorm when they appear making you yelp and almost fall down the stairs but void catches you

"you okay?" he asks making you shake your head "whats wrong?" five asks you

You go to push past them but void tightens his grip on you "talk to us please" he begs you shake your head again before hearing people enter the common room, void lets go off you and you walk to your dorm

The two guys also enter before looking at you expectedly "its just" you start but are cut off by a knock on the door "why the hell is the door locked? Come on y/n please let us in"

"i dont have parents, and pansy saying that made me sad and i like running away from my feelings, also they just use me for sex" you tell them, the knocking continues

You dont reply and just dive into your bed, face first into the pillow "open the door please" pansy begs, void and five look at eachother while biting their lips and sitting down next to you

"we dont have parents either" five confesses "well i mean basically i have a dad and a mom but my mom is a robot and my dad only wanted me and my siblings because we have these powers and he tried to make us into heros, but i ran away, he wasnt a real dad"

"i dont have parents either, i had a dad but he only cared for my geeky twin brother Mieczyslaw, who was daddy's favorite so i just left, five helped me get over the feeling of being lonely, we are here for you" void says before pulling you up and into his chest, five joins the hug

The door slams open by the use of a spell and in storm the slytherin gang, noticing your shaking frame between the two new guys "sweets, i didnt know that would upset you" pansy says sounding upset

You just shake your head before a sob gets out, void's grip on you tightens "dont cry, dont cry" he coos "please dont cry" he begs softly with tears in his eyes too

Five kisses void's forehead and starts swaying them both left to right softly "i got you" he tells you both

The slytherin gang stands there looking helplessly as these guys confort their girl, they feel a weird feeling blossom in their chests

Void and five hold onto you until you fall asleep, five softly lays you down on your bed and tucks you in before kissing your forehead, he takes void back into his arms and glares at the other slytherins "shes your girl but you guys dont know shit about her do you? I mean did you guys even ask her to join your relationship? Bet you guys didnt, what you just stringing the little cutie along for sex?"

"i think you need to leave" void says voice laced with venom "we arent going to let you hurt her like this anymore" he says while five lets go of him and they grab their wands pointing it to the other slytherins

They look at your sleeping form before they walk out, leaving you with void and five "i know we promised we wouldnt do this again" void says "i know.. But its different this time, look at her, she needs us" five says before pulling void into a kiss "we can just be her friends, we dont have to repeat what happened with dolores" five tells void thinking back on the last time they fell for someone else

"i wanna cuddle her so bad" void confesses "cuddles?" they hear you sleepily mumble "yeah cuddles, would you like some, love?" five asks making you sleepily nod

Void gets in behind you and spoons you, five softly pulls your head on his chest before muttering a spell to fix the door

The next day

You are awoken by the door slamming open and yelling, you can feel void get up and five pulls you closer, you then hear void start yelling to and five's hands go over your ears

"shes ours" mattheo yells out "but she isnt because you guys are just using her for sex, i mean you call her your girl and then dont fucking ask her to be your girlfriend? Fuck is wrong with you guys" void yells at him

You bury your head deeper into fives chest and whimper softly, the sound makes everyone stop and turn to you only to notice you and five are gone, they turn to void who just glares at them

Five has teleported you into his and voids dorm, you still cuddled up to him, you are now softly sobbing while five strokes your hair "the sweater smells like them" you mutter out before taking if off

Five covers his eyes before blindly reaching into his unpacked open bag and throwing a sweater at you which you quickly put on

"you covered again doll?" he asks, his hand still over his eyes, you lay your head down on his chest again and nod, his hands both go to your waist and he pulls you to lay on top of him, his arms wrapping around your waist

"i got you" he says pulling you closer, the door softly opens and void walks in being followed by the of the gang

"fuck are they doing here" five demands, void frowns at fives words "sorry, i didnt mean it like that, bub" he says noticing the frown

Void just shakes his head "is all good, bug" he says before also getting in the bed, laying down next to you two

"y/n we are very sorry, we just thought we already where dating cause we sleep in the same bed and we have sex, we care about you okay? And we are sorry for the poor communication, but you shouldve fucking spoken up instead of just running away like a pathetic bitch" mattheo spits out before tom slaps him "dude, no" he says but the damage is already done

You grip fives shirt tightly before tears escape your eyes again. "whatever this was is over" you tell them making them look at eachother "y/n i didnt mean that" mattheo says

"GET THE FUCK OUT" void yells at them, they look at you but you just bury your face into fives chest, they glare at mattheo and walk out

Void jumps up and closes the door

"im so sorry they did that y/n, you arent pathetic" void says while getting on the bed again, his lips connecting to your forehead "you can stay with us for a bit if you want? Its not like we have any classes for a while" five offers making you nod

In the slytherin gang's dorm

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THAT" tom yells at mattheo, the latter whimpers "did you see how he was holding her? Thats how we are supposed to hold her, not some random little boy, i just snapped" mattheo says

Draco scoffs "i get that, i was jealous too but i didnt call her a pathetic bitch"

"you better make it up to her man" blaise says "i dont wanna lose her just because you ran your mouth"

The next day

You woke up feeling something hard poke your side "is she dead?" void asks while poking you with his magic wand

Five walks out of the bathroom and slaps his hand away "be nice to doll, she is going through shit, keep poking her and ill pull you over my knee" he turns to you and kisses your forehead "its three am, dumbass here gets snacky at that time, is there like a kitchen we can go to?" five asks making you nod

You go to get up but void lifts you bridal style "where is it at?" he asks "fruit painting near the hufflepuff common room, you gotta tickle the pear" you tell them sleepily

Five grabs voids arm and teleports the three of you there, he tickles the pear and the door opens to reveal the slytherin gang "stay here" five says pushing you and void out of sight

"is our girl okay?" theo asks five when he walks in but he ignores him "hi uh can i just have like a picnic basket filled with junk food? And a large jar of black coffee, and some coke?" five asks while squatting infront of a house elf, the house elf smiles and nods before going to make the food

"just.. Just tell us if she's okay please" lorenzo asks, his voice breaking making five melt "she's fine, she's gonna be fine for as long as she sticks with me and void until you guys fix your shit" he snarls

When the house elf hands the basket to him he smiles "thank you, have a nice rest of the night" he says before walking out, mattheo follows him "just tell her im sorry please" he begs making void scoff

"you need to learn to just keep your mouth shut" he snarls before five teleports them away, when you get back into the dorm void drops you onto the bed before he dives into the picnic basket "oh hell yeah twister fries"

Five snickers "fucking fatass" he says affectionately

You giggle at their actions before taking a can of coke, you turn to void "can you open for me? I can never do it" you say with a pout making him laugh "haha so useless" he says jokingly

You gasp offendedly "how rude" you say before the three of you burst out in laughter

Later that day when the slytherin gang walls past the dorm they can hear their girls laugh mixed with the other guys laughter

"we gotta win her back, i dont care if she wants to also date them, she needs to be ours again" tom says

Wanna buy me a coffee?

[chippedaxe]

yessss for karl?! omg yess please pleas please can you write a dom step sis! reader ruining innocent stepbro! karl!!

like she teases him and he just isn’t experienced at all and she just fucking destroys him, wanking him until the sensitive little bunny is crying and begging to stop from overstimulation

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Title: Silly Boy

Warnings: !TW: STEPCEST!, NSFW (Minors DNI), cursing, corruption ig, blackmail, degrading, teasing, humiliation, penis degrading, small penis, overstimulation

Pronouns: She/her Afab

Synopsis: The reader dominates Karl and knocks him down a peg.

Word count: 2k

Note: If this type of content offends you in any way then please just ignore it, I have tons of other content on my page that isn't stepcest content and you're able to blockout any stepcest content by blocking the 'tw sepcest' or 'stepcest cw' tag <3

- This prolly isn't what u wanted but I thought of this and wanted to write it! also this hasn't been proofread and it hasn't been edited at all!

*Btw Veruca Salt is a spoiled kid that gets everything she wants, from Charlie and the chocolate factory.

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Your eyes glared down at the younger boy, towering over him to show dominance "S-sis, what're you doing?" Karl asked "Trying to scare you, is it working?" you leaned down and kept eye contact with the stammering boy "u-um not really.." he stuttered out "then why're you stuttering over your words? You're obviously intimidated." you placed your hands on your hips.

"Well why're you trying to intimidate me? I'm just trying to read this book!" he groaned "Because someone has to knock you down a peg, you think just because you're younger that you can get everything you want? Well not if I can help it!" you were furious by the boy.

"What're you on about? What've I done to you?" Karl asked worriedly "You've been asking for a whole lot this week, veruca salt!" you threw your arms in the air and started pacing around him and his chair "What? Like what?" Karl was utterly confused "You've been asking for non-stop rides to your friends houses, and you've been leaving your laundry around for mother to do!" you cross your arms.

"You're overreacting!" Karl complained "Oh I'm not done! You've also been taking money from mom's purse!" you called him out "What- how did you know about that??" Karl immediately became tense "Oh you look so stressed dear brother, just relax- don't worry... I'm not gonna tell her-" Karl sighed in relief "Oh thank god" and got cut off by you finishing your sentence "-If you promise to be a good brother and listen to what your stepsister says!" you finished.

"WHAT? No way! I'm telling mom and dad!" He began to stand up but you pushed him back down "Oh no no no, you're gonna tell them what? That you stole the $200 that mom presumed was stolen by a thief? You gonna explain that to her after she already called authorities and had someone sent to jail?" you spat venom at him.

"You're evil!" Karl shouted "Me? Evil? I'm not the thief here" you grinned mischievously "Although I could be- if you don't wanna have to do everything I say then just give me something precious you own" you held your hand out expectantly "What am I supposed to give you? My soul?" Karl questioned "If you can bare to part with it then yes" you gave a mean smile in response to his sarcasm.

"I have literally nothing!" Karl exclaimed "You have your phone" you suggested "Dad would kill me if he found out I'd given it away!" He shouted "he'd kill you if he found out about that money too" you reminded him "I- I could give you... I'll let you date one of my friends!" Karl smiled nervously as he hoped you'd agree "What friends? You're a nerd, no one would want to be friends with you" snickered.

"S-Sapnap! He's strong, he loves animals, he has big muscles!" Karl said "The brute with dark hair? He's cute but not my type" you yawned "U-m.. Quackity?" a bead of sweat dropped down his face "He's super cool, really funny!" Karl was starting to worry as he was already running out of friends to pair you with "No.. My type is nerdy boys that I can dominate, ones that get nervous a lot and stutter over their sentences" you hinted.

"Oh- like Wilbur? I'm not really his friend but I can try something!!" Karl wasn't getting the hint "No, I was thinking more specifically towards someone like you." you finally told him "M-me? But I'm your brother!" Karl was in disbelief "Step-brother. And I don't really like you, I just think that you're pitiful and if you're gonna be selling someone's body to me in exchange to keep your secrets safe than it may as well be yours." you explained.

"But- Well- I've never done that before!" he put his hands up defensively "Well obviously, who would want to touch a greasy nerd like you?" you sighed. "Well- No, that's wrong!" he shook his head "Well I'm not gonna make you, just give me something else then and I'll be on my way" you told him. Karl looked down at his feet for a moment as he mulled over what was happening and what decision he was gonna make.

Karl lifted his head and made eye contact with you "Okay." he replied "Okay what? Okay you're gonna give me something?" you asked "No- I mean- okay I'm gonna give you my body" he mumbled quietly "Gonna need to speak up, can't hear you over the sound of our parents crying over having such a disappointing child" you ridiculed him.

"I'll give you my body, damnit!" he yelled "hey- quiet down, our parents are only just down stairs!" you made him shut up. "Whatever" he leaned back in his chair and slumped down "Karl. You need to give me your full consent, you can't just go 'yea whatever' and expect me to be fine with that!" you furrowed your eyebrows "Why?? What- do you need me to beg you for it?!" he was getting aggravated.

"Actually yes, I do" you decided to torment him a little bit "Big sis, please please please fuck this desperate loser" he put his hands together to make a praying gesture as he mocked you "That's more like it, runt." you grabbed his chin and forced him to face you "We can stop at any time, if you choose not to speak up then that'll be your fault" you made sure he was fully aware that he had a say even though he wasn't in control.

"Thanks. Now- how do we?" Karl was now confused on what you were gonna do, and he was having some type of delusion that he was gonna be the one in charge dominating you. "I think I'm just gonna have some fun by jerking you off, is that okay bunny?" you teased "W-what do you mean you're gonna jerk me off?" Karl asked nervously "I'm gonna stroke your dick, never done that before?" you bullied him.

"N-no, never even thought about it.." his face became red and flushed, you slowly slid onto his lap and straddled his leg "No? You haven't? Are you lying to your big sister? That's not very nice you know, Mom always told me that you shouldn't lie (Unless it's to your dad) " Karl glanced away from you and tried to hide his face "Aw you can tell me the truth, I'm a good listener after all!" you encouraged him "I haven't.." he persisted.

"Well then let me introduce you to the pleasure that is being jerked off, slide your pants down" you instructed "What? Do I have to.." he was clearly embarrassed "No. I guess I could just palm you through your pants" you shrugged. Karl sighed in relief and let out a small breath, tilting his head back in the chair and waiting for you to do what you wanted.

Your hand dipped between his legs, your palm rubbing his growing bulge "H-Hey that feels weird" he told you "So what? You want me to stop?" he shut his mouth, encouraging you to keep palming him. "This would feel a lot better if you let your cock free, instead your trapping it in your tight pants and strangling it.." you frowned "F-fine.." Karl blushed as he slowly pulled his pants down.

You watched in delight as he released his penis "Oh is this what you were worried about?" you stared down at it "O-Oh god-" Karl felt humiliated and went to put it away but you stopped him "It's cute.. I wouldn't expect a nerd's penis to be big anyways" you told him. Karl's little cock twitched at your words, moving slightly on its own "oh. my. god. You LIKE when I'm mean to you! That's why you never argue back! It all makes sense now.." Karl looked down to avert eye contact.

"That's perfect Karl, you love when I'm mean to you- and I love to make fun of you! Win Win!" you felt a small rush of excitement. Your hand wrapped around his cock which forced a choked out moan from him, his hands moving to cover his face "you're acting quite rude Karl. Look at your big sister when she's talking to you!" you ordered.

Karl slowly revealed his face, revealing how much pleasure he was having. "F-Feel's weird, let go!" he ushered you to let go of his penis, even though his body disagreed; his hips bucking up into your hand to help finish him off "Trust your big sister." you said as you continued to pump your hand around his cock. "Fuck! Fuck you!" Karl's whole body shuddered as he was having an orgasm, his penis twitching in your hand.

"Wow Karl, that was rude." you huffed and narrowed your eyes, your hand still lingering on his crotch "A-are you done now?" Karl panted as he was trying to catch his breath "Done? I've barely even started!" you laughed maniacally as you began to slowly stroke him again "Ah- no no no, that's too much!" Karl whined. "You want me to stop?" you asked him "Yes!" he exclaimed so you let go and pulled away "What?" Karl was confused and a bit upset "Hm? What is it?" you asked "You're just.. done?" he looked saddened.

"You told me to stop!" you explained "yeah but.. I didn't really mean it.." Karl's cheeks were dusted red "Well come back here then" you grabbed his hips and forced him back down onto his chair. Karl was already eager and bucking his hips up against you, your hand grabbed him again and started to jerk him off "Ah!- Ah-" Karl tried to keep quiet but couldn't help the escaped noises that came out.

You placed your free hand over his mouth to try and muffle his moans, his voice vibrating against your hand "You can never be quiet! Always have something to say, don't you?" you rolled your eyes at him. Karl clenched his eyes shut and tapped the chair repeatedly with his hand to let you know he was ready to cum again, you let him release his load yet again but you didn't remove your hand.

"A-Again?? I can only take so much.." Karl whimpered and whined "You're feeling this way already? But I've only just started!" You frowned "Well I guess I can give you a break now but there won't be any breaks later on when our parents go out to dinner." you stood up and got off him. "T-Thanks.." Karl huffed "For what?" you asked "Thanks for um- pleasuring me?" you scoffed and walked back to your room, ready to return at night time when you had Karl all to yourself.

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*guys lemme know if u want a part 2 bc I could certainly make one of the reader x karl at night time after their parents have left.

[joanquill]

Hi

I think fred would be an amazing papa

Lmao

So if its possible could u make fred x reader adopting a child or having their own child??

Thx

Daddy-Daughter Day

Fred Porlock

A/N: Hi! I made the child into a girl if that's okay ^^"Tag/s: Time Skip, Married!Fred and Reader, Long-ish (1.3k words)

Guide: (D/N): Your Daughter's Name

"Papa!" (D/N) called out, climbing up on the bed as she pulled on the blanket, making Fred stir.

"Papa," (D/N) repeated, getting up on her feet as she made her way to Fred.

She smacked his arm with her little hand, trying to wake him up.

Fred hummed in response, turning over and seeing his daughter beam up.

"Goo' mownin," she greeted, accidentally bumping her head onto Fred's face.

Fred only laughed as he sat up, letting out a yawn.

"Good morning..." he greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her head.

(D/N) proudly smiled as she looked around the bedroom, seeing the empty space on Fred's side.

"Dada/Mama out?" she asked, making Fred nod.

"Yes... they're still out on a mission with your uncles," he confirmed, lifting your daughter up in his arms as he got out of bed, getting ready for the day.

"(D/N)..." Fred warned as your daughter stood on the opposite side of the room, trying to avoid him.

(D/N) stubbornly shook her head as she stood her ground.

"No baths!" she repeated, making Fred sigh.

"All right, if you want to do it the hard way," he smiled, chasing your daughter around the room.

She let out a shriek followed by giggles, trying to escape Fred.

"Gotcha...!" Fred quickly grabbed (D/N) by the waist, lifting her up in her arms as he tickled her.

(D/N) screamed as she laughed, trying to get away as Fred carried her to the bathroom.

(D/N) started to whine as Fred put her back on the ground.

"Do you want Dada/Mama to see how messy you've been while they were gone?" Fred asked as (D/N) shook her head.

"Then let's get you cleaned up,"

As Fred prepared the necessities and put bubbles in the tub, (D/N) started to change her clothes.

"And... there. See? Not so bad," Fred said as he gently put (D/N) in the tub.

(D/N) let out a sneeze, making bubbles fly up from the water.

She giggled as she started splashing around, making Fred chuckle.

"(D/N), be still... You wouldn't want soap in your eyes," Fred warned, making the girl sit still as Fred washed her hair.

(D/N) hummed a tune as she looked at herself in the mirror, swinging her legs around as Fred tried to braid her hair.

His brows were furrowed with focus, trying to make it neat and perfect.

"And... done," Fred muttered as he tied the end, hoping it was good enough.

(D/N) quickly hopped off the chair as she looked at her hair, trying to see it at every angle.

"Pretty!" she grinned, observing her reflection.

Fred let out a sigh of relief as he watched (D/N) smile happily at his work.

As Fred walked out of the bedroom, he felt something bump the door as he opened it.

It was a small package on the ground wrapped like a gift.

(D/N) excitedly wiggled out of Fred's hold as she walked up to the package, pulling on the bow.

Fred widened his eyes when he saw a note in your handwriting with a couple of toy flowers inside.

"Flowuss...!" (D/N) gasped, dancing in her spot as she excitedly took out each flower one by one.

Hello, my loves! I found these from a shop we passed by and thought of you both. I hate being away from you two for so long, but I promise I will be back in a couple of days. I love you! -(Y/N)

"Papa, yo' favowit," (D/N) gave the lily of the valleys to Fred, making him chuckle.

"Thank you, love,"

"Good morning, Fred, (D/N),"

"Good morning, Mr. Louis,"

"Woois...!" (D/N) called out as she ran up to him, a toy daffodil in her hand.

She held out the flower to Luis as he looked at her questioningly.

(D/N) only kept her smile as Luis knelt and took the flower.

"Fo' you," she explained, running back to Fred.

Fred could only smile as Louis hid his face, tints of pink showing from the sides of his face.

(D/N) spent the rest of the morning giving the boys flowers, making them smile and some cry at the cuteness.

As Fred tended to the gardens, (D/N) was by the table, happily humming as she planted the toy flowers in a pot Fred gave her.

"Papa, Papa!" she called out, running up to Fred as she proudly showed the potted toy flowers to him.

"Fo' da haws," she smiled, pointing at the greenhouse.

"Wow, good work, (D/N)!" Fred smiled, patting the girl's head.

He took the potted toys and placed them by the windowsill where everyone could see, making (D/N) giggle.

As Fred continued to work and (D/N) watered her potted toy flowers, they saw something rustle in the bushes.

Fred quickly grabbed (D/N) as he kept his eyes on the rustling, backing away.

(D/N) whimpered as she held onto Fred, looking at the rustling.

Suddenly, a kitten jumped out of the bushes, making Fred sigh in relief.

"Kitty!" (D/N) gasped, reaching her little arms to the kitten, making it scamper away.

"Aww..." (D/N) whined in disappointment, making Fred chuckle.

"Maybe we can go adopt one when Dada/Mama comes home?" Fred suggested, making (D/N) brighten up with a nod.

"(D/N), it's time for your nap," Fred called out as he saw Bonde and Herder playing with her.

The two men let out disappointed sighs as Bonde hugged (D/N).

"Just five more minutes?"

"She needs to take a nap, or she'll be cranky,"

"But...!" Fred swiftly took (D/N) from them despite their complaints, making the girl wave goodbye as they left.

Fred sighed as the two followed him back to (D/N)'s room trying to convince him to keep her up for a little longer.

Herder could only pout, and Bonde whispered goodnight as (D/N) took a nap.

"So strict...!" Herder teased, making Fred shake his head.

"But I guess that's what makes you a good father," he added, making Fred widen his eyes.

"...Thanks..." he smiled, feeling a swell of pride in his chest.

"I'm home!" you hollered as you rushed inside the manor, catching everyone's attention.

Fred quickly ran up to you with a tight hug, making you chuckle.

"I missed you too, dearest," you smiled as you kissed him deeply.

"Welcome home," he greeted, resting your foreheads together.

You giggled as you reached for something behind you.

"For you," you smiled, showing him a bouquet of his favorite flowers.

"How sweet," Bonde teased, making you chuckle and hug him.

"Missed you too, James," you grinned as you ruffled his hair and hugged Herder.

"So, where's (D/N)?" you asked, excitedly looking around the manor.

"She just-"

"Dada/Mama!" (D/N) shouted as she ran up to you, making you laugh and lift her up, hugging her tightly.

"Well, she was supposed to be taking a nap," Fred sighed, making you giggle.

"Well, I'm glad she didn't," you smiled, rubbing your noses together.

"Because I have a surprise for you for being such a good girl," you put her down as you surprised her with a mini-bouquet of her favorites and a cat stuffed toy.

Her eyes sparkled as she reached for it but quickly stopped and turned away.

You raised a brow, "What's wrong, flower? You don't like them?" you asked as she shook her head.

"Diffwent gift?" she asked, surprising you.

Fred's eyes widened as he softly smiled, remembering what happened in the gardens.

'I guess she would want a pet...' Fred thought, planning what you needed for a cat.

"Okay then," you smiled, "What's your wish?"

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed your hand and started hopping in place.

"Baby bwother!" she excitedly answered, making you and Fred freeze up while Bonde and Herder laughed in the background.

"A b-baby brother, huh?" you nervously laughed as Fred hid his red face while (D/N) excitedly nodded.

"W-Well, maybe we can make some things work,"

"(Y/N)!"

[mononijikayu]

chapter viii.

chapter viii.

Rating: M

Warning: Explicit scenes of blood and violence;

Summary: DAEMON TARGARYEN manages the life of a house of three;

[for hundreds of years, valyrians had been dragon riders and dreamers. each can be born in a family. but, it was surely an anomaly to have both dragon rider and dreamer in one body. prince aegon blackmace suffered throughout his days dragon dreams that left him scarce with sleep. such dreams were ones that often came truest when people try and avoid it. but it was a queer thing for one to have wolf dreams. rumors perhaps may be true, that a wolf fell for a dragon.]

- maester aeron targaryen; adust

A D U S T   m a s t e r l i s t

< you and i burn together or we shall die trying >

chapter i  / chapter ii / chapter iii / chapter iv / chapter v

chapter vi / chapter vii / chapter viii / chapter ix / chapter x  

chapter xi / chapter xii / chapter xiii / chapter xiv / chapter xv

chapter xvi / chapter xvii / chapter xviii

Mellara had not known how she had survived confinement twice before. The princess had found herself ever so lonely, in need of a fleeting escape from the scanty world of her fine satin sheets and the long velvet canopy that trapped her day after day. The restlessness had started to gather itself against her like a cloud of temptation raining over her heavily in a storm. Her time was too near, she knew. The babe has lowered itself in her belly, eagerly awaiting life to begin. For that, she supposed there was relief that it would soon be over. But Mellara was too aware in herself that the pain would first come before that. 

More days than now, the princess of Blackhall had found herself too weary to be awake and too jaded for excitement. The babe had all but taken the strength from her body, but with the kicks of its small feet hammering away at all hours it could. There had been no sleep that came, not even when Daemon was by her side, thrashing about to comfort her body into slumber. Daemon had told her just as much that he did not mind her restlessness, but she knew he himself had not found rest either. 

There were times when she would find herself too quiet in Elmo’s company, preventing each and every yawn as he detailed his day of work to her and the court gossip.At each turn, guilt festered within her, at the thought that she was half-heartedly listening as her efforts to stay awake failed. There were times of the day where she would be with Aemon, relishing in his adventures with his fathers and found herself in the most spontaneous of slumbers while sitting down upon the mahogany stool in the solar. Aemon had not accepted any apologies from his mother, he had spoken deeply of understanding. But that too had found her with guilt, with those she had loved forced to alter their lives to cater to her own needs. 

These days, her restlessness and her guilt had given her bouts of energy and determination to recoompense to her family. Erratically, she would call upon Daemon to abandon his training with his friends in the city guards to walking with her. Spontaneously, there would be then those days where she would beg Elmo to take a walk with her around their garden. In small windows of the day, she would desire to have her son accompany her to read in the solitude of the study. Each opportunity had been rare, but it had brought her some relief to know that she could be agile.

However there came sometime within these past weeks where she felt a sharp pain in her legs. The princess had reassured her hands that she was well. Yet in those lies, the truth grew more pronounced. That night when the pains had gathered stronger, Elmo had already bid her good night when he left to rest and Daemon spending hours with Aemon in the silence of cyvasse and candlelight. Mellara could not help but curse in silence, her frustration bubbling to the surface. Minding herself lest her outbursts worry her husbands, the princess clenched her teeth and stifled her cries.The small of her thigh thundered with aches, and her legs throbbed with vicious pangs, making every movement a challenge. They had been busy enough, she thought. There was no need for them to worry of her further. This pain will subside too.

When her elder husband had joined her to bed, Daemon had been the one to notice her tears in the quiet of her pained groans. The prince had been upset that she had kept the matter from him, but his helplessness in trying to obliviate the pain frustrated him. He had woken Elmo himself, had gathered the healers to rouse in order to find her some relief. In the dim of dusk, their chambers had all but become an apothecary, with the scent of exotic mystery dwelling against the molten candle and the burning firewood. 

Daemon Targaryen muttered in quiet tones with the head healer, the sound of their ancient tongue drifting against the shadows of candlelight. Daemon had written to friends across the Narrow Sea, from his past ventures of youth in Pentos. Mellara could recall his delight at the friendship with the Pentoshi prince, older than he but charmed by the dashing allure of the ravenous rogue just as much. With such connection, it was then that way Daemon had managed to procure the aid of the healers guilds of Pentos. 

The healers had tirelessly worked against the burning flame, slowly gathering  burning oil and redolent scents from crushed herbs. For a moment, she gathers the scent of mint and lemon in a harmony. On the small of the hearth, a boiling pot filled with dilluted dreamwine simmered to the dance of dark flame. Daemon turned to her husband as walked towards his junior, whispering to him. In turn, Elmo called for a servant to bring the shallow basin and for it to be filled with crushed flowers and heated water. 

When the shallow basin was brought, Daemon walked toward her and had helped her remove her outer nightwear. Her cousin ordered the healers to turn around and as they did so, lifted her into his arms and aided her into the burning waters of the basin. Mellara pursed her lips into a line as she looked up to her husband, thanking him quietly. Elmo Tully could only sigh wearily, crossing his arms together as he joined the two, standing beside Daemon. 

“Is the water too hot?” Elmo broke the silence, leaning over to meet his wife’s eyes. Mellara shook her head as he poured his finger to feel the water. He leers at the heat and then frowns. “By the gods, that’s scolding hot!”

“Our flesh is heat, trout.” Daemon snickers back at the younger, his own fingers danced against the heat of the water. “This is not even warm, I must say.”

“The servant girl told me that they boiled this thoroughly, rogue.”

Daemon raised a brow. “They did not do it well. We ought to return to Dragonstone and teach you what scolding hot looks like, trout.”

“But the babes?”

The rogue prince snickers. “They are of the blood of Old Valyria. Heat will not bother these little dragon trouts.”

“’Tis sufficient enough, husband. Do not worry.” Mellara finally says, looking up to them. “My legs do not hurt as it has.”

“Zaldrītsos, you ought to tell me when you feel this way.” Daemon whispers, kneeling beside her, his features contorted in worry. “To know you were hurting, it pains me.”

“If I had known having a child was trouble, we should not have entertained the matter at all.” Elmo shook his head, his eyes borne with remorse. He kneels on the other side, placing a kiss upon her cheek. “Dearest wife, I am at fault at this.”

Mellara shook her head. “House Tully needs an heir.”

“Not at the risk of you, my love.” Her younger husband argues, pursing his lips. “There are still others, you know. I have an uncle, other distant cousins. Trouts are bountiful fish, Mellara.”

“There is nothing more important than you.” Daemon cooes, before she could argue. “The child is not yet ours, my love. But you are. You ought to know this.”

Mellara Targaryen felt tears against her lilac gaze. Hazy memories flashing before her eyes, Aemma’s tear-filled eyes and the bloody sheets. All the feelings of grief and fear drifted like a ghost that would not leave her to peace. She could not admit it but this journey to the childbed had been the one that had frightened her most. Not because of the pain she would go through, but the fear that there are many beside her whom she dreaded to disappoint and even worse, to leave behind at the thought of her gods ripping her from such joyous a life, the life she had just truly begun.

Where she was cared for as they had done in these many generations of mothers and babes plucked from the chance to enjoy the zest of life beyond tragedy. She could feel the tears deepen at the thought of her young son, her precious Aemon becoming motherless at her loss. Her two husbands beside her, to be so distraught with grief at the thought of her dwelling like a phantom in the dance with death at childbed. They would blame themselves to no end, she knew. They would not stop to think about washing their hands of the tragedy they accept to be their own fault.

“You would choose me?”

Elmo smiles tenderly. “In a heartbeat.”

The princess of Blackhall lifted her hands and soon enough, each palm gathered itself to the warmth of both husbands. Her fingers laced with theirs, a silent tremor of blood pounding just as it would within the beating heart. Mellara allows her lips to widen in a small smile as she lifts their intertwined hands and she slowly embraces the back of each hand with a tender kiss. Daemon returns her tender smile, beaming like the stars in the night sky, with the love that belongs only to her. Elmo’s blue eyes swam with tender abandon, filled with the warmest emotions that drifted in waves. 

Mellara Targaryen had known it all too well.

She was the luckiest of all women in the world.

For she was endlessly and truly loved by all.

The stench of fresh blood pooled across the linen bedding as echoes resounded in ripples. The drip of sweat ingrained into her skin like a martyr’s tears coursing through with painful resounding. Each scream was devastatingly loud, almost like a battle cry that ripped her body apart in complete agony. She could feel each ripple of pain as though like the cut of a thousand blades in each drifting contraction. Mellara Targaryen had fought many battles, she was certain of that. But the childbed had always been the one where she had felt herself frightened to lose.

The midwife had said it best to her the first time, when she had first birthed Alyssa, that her body had been too fragile for the incursions of motherhood. That was not to say that she was weak or unhealthy. But with how she had such a hard time with birthing her first child, the wound within her womb had not truly healed from the trudge of childbed. Aemon’s birth had proven that, she was abed for near two moons after. 

But for the princess of Blackhall knew that the realm needed this. Her blood must be reborn anew in a babe that would live beyond her, beyond them. It must be done. To unite blood and flesh determines the realm’s future. One must toil in the cutting of flesh, the eternal pain and most of all, the never ending pour of miserable blood. But it was not something that had been expected, that it would be this early. And certainly for not this long. 

It had been three days. Much longer than Alyssa’s birth and just in the same pace as Aemon’s own birth. With no matter how she screamed and pulled, with no matter how vulgar the curse or no matter how deeply she held onto the bed’s frame, the babe would not come out. The midwives had been trying to calm her, but she could not stop crying out in pain, not even with the dreamwine. She palmed her belly as sweat and tears melted together, the princess could only grip harder with her free hand against the wooden frame. Another contraction hit with a furious vengence, her lips letting out a groan of pain soon after.  

Mellara had not been angry at her child, she could never feel any malice. The babe had always been innocent, she had wanted them as they had wanted her. The gods knew that to be truth. But the process had always been the one that had angered her the most, it was her body that she cursed most of all. Her body had been strident in giving her the worst of times, when she had just wanted to give her child the breath of morning air. She had wanted nothing for this babe but to live in wonder. To be born safety.

‘If I had been stronger, this would all be over.’ Mellara lamented with anguish, looking at her belly. ‘You must be strong, please. For me.’

Everything these past few days has been good. With the pain of her legs lessening, she was able to enjoy a small distance in a slower pace towards the solar and even in the halls. That had lessen the restless anguish within her. The sun rose with a joyous beam like a sunflower in bloom. Her rogue husband and her dutiful man greeted her good morning as she got out of her confinement to join them in breaking their fast. One a kiss upon her temple and the other upon the lips, gathering them into a warmth that only she knew. 

There was much that intrigued her within the walls as of late, being forced into confinement as per tradition. Elmo Tully had taken his leave from his duties, giving them to ser Criston with the king’s blessing. He tells her that the king’s young sons had been sad to see his departure for these few weeks, but it seemed that they had understand. Ser Criston was a competent knight enough, she knew. Rhaenyra had reassured her that the knight was competent enough to teach the royal children. 

In these days away from his dutties, her younger husband had been fervent in deciding to keep her company, indulging her pleasure to hear him play a tune in the lute once or twice and had been delighted to tell her of the planned additions he had delighted upon adding in the gardens in Riverrun, in honor of the birth of their child. At times, he often would tell her about the things he had heard at court. Most recently, he had told her that her cousin Rhaenys and her husband lord Corlys were thinking of wedding off their daughter. Mellara could only conclude that it was why Rhaenys was at court with young Laena recently, from what she indicated from her letter. 

Her Daemon had needed to return to Bloodstone recently, for the news of the Triarchy encouraging pirates across the straits. Her elder husband had lamented being away, but he knew his duty well enough. When he had given up the crown of the Stepstones, the keep of Bloodstone remained in their hands. As such, he had a duty to defend it from those who dare take it. Viserys had told him as much, if he had wanted to keep it, it would be his responsibility. Daemon had not argued, but gruntled the entire time at the need to be far away. Still he had come quickly enough, Caraxes proving agile with his swift flying back to the capital.

Upon his return, her husband languished attention on her and their son. The mornings were often spent in small blade exercises between father and son. Mellara would settle on her velvet chair by her solar to see them both. Leaning forward the balcony’s ornate silver rails, Mellara watched her young boy move to the side in a swift dodge, as her husband forced through Dark Sister. Eagerly, the father followed through with leaning forward as his son raised his mace with a grunt and tried to attack his father. Daemon snickered as he dodged, purple eyes glistening with excitement.

Mellara could see that Daemon was looking forward to doing this. To test him soon, to see him worthy of being a warrior’s son. Like his father’s own teaching, he was not to back down on his young son. That would not make him a soldier. Yet she knew it was something more. It was a father eagerly participating in the building of remaining youth in his first born son. A son he had missed for many years and a son he owed much time to.

Later on, the crowding knights cheered as prince Aemon had scratched his father’s doublet for the first time and pride had beamed throughout. He cheered and danced. Daemon had been proudest, beaming at his son as he ruffled his palm against his silver locks. It was that morning that Daemon promised thier son the beginning of his use of live steel, which delighted the boy to no end as he started to list off swords he wishes to use from the armory.

They broke their fast together, as they usually did when they all were awake together. Mellara had settled for the freshly baked cheese rolls, buttering their top as she ate them. Daemon poured her warm lemon tea, one of her favorites recently and drank his own spiced wine and cut through an apple with his knife. Aemon quietly hummed, munching through the lemon cakes that the kitchen wench fetched for him. Mellara had warned her son about eating too much, but Daemon had waved her off as he told her to let him indulge in victory. Before long, Elmo Tully would join them after waking from his own chambers. Elmo had stayed up late into the night, devouring the knowledgable texts and scrolls on Old Valyria. Daemon had recommended it to her younger husband, from his own private collection from Bloodstone.

Her two husbands started to talk for a few minutes, speaking of their plans for the day. Elmo yawned, drinking some dilluted ale as he nodded at Daemon’s talk. These days, they seemed to be more in the rhythm of understanding one another. Their love for their wife had brought them closer, but their efforts to work together had brought them brotherhood. For that she was thankful, for they were more comfortable with one another and peacefully existing by her side. That is what she needs, after what she had gone through. In a few moments, Aemon excuses himself to wash and kissed his mother goodbye when he did depart.

Rubbing her belly as she leaned backwards on the chair, her maester came with a forlorn gaze moments later. It was easy to read men, Mellara thinks. More so when the words were compiled with mournful news. There was no man who could hide it. Elmo was worse with it, she knew. But this maester was worse. The look of dread on their faces were like shadows that caged their features whole. As though the moon was casted upon the beaming sun in a long threaded eclipse in dusk. Frozen in place as she heard the news with her eager insistence to hear it, Mellara could feel her heart dwell into a harsh pace. 

Soon enough, Mellara had found herself being carried to child bed. To hear what she had heard had been astoundingly shocking, but to know that it was something that was already written in past, dried words in dried ink, she knew she could never prevent its truth from settling in like rot. To hear that Rhea Royce had died in such a way she had never expected her to was beyond shocking. But Mellara knew just as much that even the most expert of hunters were not safe from danger. Lord Tyrell’s own father had been one of the best hunters her father had ever seen and yet one mistake as he climbed to chase his falcon, that had doomed him to his death quicker than he had raced.

Rhea had been someone Mellara had only met in a few moments fleeting. When she had travelled to the Vale to visit with her father, they were such fond occassions to be had. She was a tall woman, but stern and strident in herself. She spoke bluntly and she spoke roughly. In her hunting leathers, she looked more man than she did a lady. She was an expert of the bow and the sword. Each time she sat upon her horse, she looked more like a mighty conqueror. Rhea had always looked beautiful on a horse, beaming with joy at the thought of being under the cloudy sun and jumping along to the action in the forests and mountains. There had been no grudge, but a blossoming friendship. Rhea Royce had always been kind to Mellara, far more than some ladies she had met in the Vale. 

In such hunts her father had partook, she had been and quite a few times, it was many years ago in Runestone. Rhea had been a reserved woman, eager with attention towards those she had been close to. But even with that distance, it was still Rhea that ahd approached her first. Mellara could remember the way she had smiled at her then. Quickly, they understood each other well and as such, they managed to have a small quiet friendship. Mellara often flew to visit her as a young girl, and Rhea had at times traveled to enjoy some time with her. When they were away, Rhea would write to he and she would do the same. Rhea often was the one that gifted her hawks and fur pelts from her extensive hunts. Mellara would send her small glass gifts, related to bronze armors and archers. At times good fine leather for her hunting use and at times for her saddles.

Even when she had become Daemon’s lover and then his wife, Rhea could care less about how closely Daemon lingered in her friend’s life. What mattered, Rhea told her, is that we are friends. That they would continue as such for as long as they could. Rhea had told her the same, in her last letter. Tears welled from her eyes as she started to moan in pain. Liquid had started to pour down her legs as she hunched over against the velvet chair. Elmo and Daemon hovered over her, but it was she who had declared to them that the babe was coming and they were coming down harshly.

These past three days were a torture at childbed. One that both her husbands had been to hear as they found themselves waiting late at night. It was one thing to hear a knight cry through the pain of injury. But it was another to hear a woman’s labor through days and nights. In those three days, the rogue prince could not sleep, for the first time in his life being confronted with fear. Hands turning paler than snow as his fingers crushed into a fist, Daemon Targaryen wondered how much pain she had been through alone when she had birthed their son Aemon. How long did it last? How much blood spilled through? Was there anyone to soothe her fear? 

In that moment, the memories of his departed mother haunted him. His father’s distraught face, hot grieving tears fell as he embraced the cold corpse of a woman he had loved. Daemon was but a boy then, one would think he could not remember it. But he had. He had remembered every little bit of it. To the last when his brother had been ripping him away out into the hallway. As she labored, a dash of midwives had not let him through, not even with his violent taunts. Just like back then, he could do nothing. Daemon felt for the first time felt useless, utterly useless. He could not even comfort his distraught son as he huddled over the steps towards the chambers with a somber look on his face.

“You.” Elmo Tully turned to him, an equally frustrated gaze on his face. “Come with me.”

“Mellara is in labor–”

“Get your sword.”

Daemon Targaryen turned, walking towards his son and leaned down to talk to him. Watching the boy nod slowly, the rogue prince walked ahead of his son. In a moment’s thought he was followed by the confused heir of Riverrun. Elmo took a look at his wife’s young son and sighed, placing a hand upon his shoulder to comfort him. The young boy nodded, standing and following his step-father and soon enough meeting altogether in the courtyard. Daemon unsheathed Dark Sister, causing the Tully heir to have his eyes widen slightly as he watched the prince throw the sheathe away. 

“I am in a bad mood.” Daemon declared as he took a stance. “I might as well take it out on you.”

Elmo watched as his step-son came through with a sword in hand. “Am I to be forced into being your punching bag, my prince?”

“There must be a way for me to kill that bronze bitch in my head.” The prince said bluntly. “This is all her fault.”

The redheaded lord pursed his lips as he hesitantly unsheathed the sword from his step-son. Gazing at it for a moment, he could not help but admire the shine of the sword. Giving the sheathe back to his step-son, he thanked him and asked him to move towards the corner for his safety. Elmo Tully too took a fighting stance opposite the Valyrian prince. He took a sharp breath. 

“You speak too much, do you know that?”

“So do you.”

 "Push, princess," the midwife said as she squirmed there at the woman, her lilac eyes filled with distress and agony and her entire body and face pooling with sweat as screams echoed from her. When she was ordered, the ladies in waiting were helping her upright into the delve of pillows. "Push!"

Mellara's eyes welled up with tears as she gripped the servant's hand, another wiping sweat beads from her cheeks, and pushed as hard as she could. But there was no sign of a head. The midwife endeavored to feel the life of the child on the princess's belly. Her eyes widened as she recognized what it was. The child, indeed, the children, were in a difficult situation. That could be why she was having difficulties. The elder woman moved her hands in an attempt to turn the babes, but it was futile. The baby remained stubbornly in place. And the princess continued to scream and pull the sheets as she pushed and pushed. But there was no sign of any children.

"I'm going to die!" Mellara shouts glumly as she rose to her feet and motioned the women away. The midwife looked her in the eyes and jerked her head as she fought to stay calm. "My babes will die."

"Princess, you will not die, nor will your babes," one of the servants vowed, wiping her tears. She spoke as if she had heard a prophecy and knew exactly what was going to happen. "You're going to live a long time, happily."

"You can do it, princess." The head midwife assured her, her voice softened as she tried to calm her. "One strong push after another.”

The princess gazed at her apprehensively, full of exhaustion and pain. Mellara wept as she nodded at them finally. Tired, she readied herself as she began to count and told her to push and push and push. Gritting her teeth, she did as she was bid and yielded to the pain. 

Until the cry was heard many minutes later.

A moment of relief and then soon another pain.

Mellara’s tears welled through, granting her blind.

Another push through the rushing blood through her legs.

And then another cry soon enough was heard.

Mellara could feel her body fall into the sheets already damped with her sweat. Two eager cries filled the room, the midwives grasping and clapping as they moved in droves. The congratulatory jubilant heard as she gasped for air, she could not feel half her body. The cool water splashing through basins as midwives washed her children off and wrapped them in warm cloth. 

The same ones she had sewn through the year, two sleeves of cloth in the sigil of house Tully. As they went to her, they bowed and smiled at her. The babies rested beside her. Red hair wiggling across their tiny heads. Mellara gleamed with pride as she gazed at them. Turning to the head midwife, she smiled. 

“Two sons, my princess.” The elderly midwife says in awe. “And we did not know.”

“They are perfect.” Mellara whispered, moving her fingers to touch her sons. “Thank you for sailing us through the storm.”

The excitement of the household was felt throughout the day. Once she had gotten through being cleaned and changed into proper clothes, Mellara had enjoyed a solemn time with her youngest boys. As she drank heated milk, she gathered herself to welcome visitors. Though she had been entirely torn through by the labor, Mellara Targaryen had decided to entertain those who had wished to see her sons. 

Many of them had been eager to see the first Tully heirs in a generation since her husband, but most of all – they were curious to see the first offspring of a Targaryen and a Tully. It had not offended her, this curiosity. Mellara too had been all too curious about what her young babies would look like. Would they take after her? Or her husband? 

The moment she saw the ruffles of red hair, she knew that they were Tullys. It was all too obvious to see how much they were like her husband. That was what he thought when he rushed through the halls, full of dirt and sweat. It was certain that he was doing something to calm his nerves. His eyes were glued to the image of an angel that laid upon the childbed, dressed in Tully colors. So were the two sons they had sired together. Dashing towards the basin, he washed his hands thoroughly and dried them. Gathering his feet with all his remaining strength, he sat himself towards the edge of the bed, by her legs and turned to the small bundles of joy resting beside her.

She smiled gently at him. “You’ve come.”

“I should have come sooner.” He whispers to her in reply. “I shouldn’t have let you suffer alone here, I…”

“The midwives would have just stood in your way.” Mellara shook her head, urging him to come closer. “You heard them deny Daemon, have you not?”

“Yes, but I still should have tried–”

She shook her head once more. “You did your part by staying out of it. I am safe and so are our sons.”

He snickered disbelievingly. “Yes…safe. Our sons.”

“Yes, our sons.” Mellara chuckled as she gathered the elder in her arms, urging her husband to gather the younger in his arms. He did so uncomplainingly, but ever so gentle. “That one is our younger boy.”

“That is the oldest, then?”

She nodded. “Your son and heir.”

He took a sharp breath. “I never thought in a million years that I would ever become a father.”

“Well now you are.” She whispers to him, gazing at her red haired boy. “You always will be, now.”

“Yes, that you are correct about.” He smiles, placing a small kiss upon their youngest’s head. He moved closer, gently holding their son to his chest. The redheaded lord gleaned at his wife. “Thank you. For all that you have done.”

Mellara shook her head. “No, thank you. For giving me this life.”

It was already late when she and Elmo parted. They delighted in the company of every movement that their boys made. It was a precious moment, to just sit there wondering what their boys would grow up to be. Mellara thought out loud mayhaps they might inherit the Targaryen might. It might be wishful thinking, for Blacknight had yet to gather a dragon egg years after her son Aemon’s Aelyx. 

There was no certainty, her husband had said and he was right. She could not be sure, but it is still something to dream about. Her cousin Rhaenys, after all, has a Velaryon son with a dragon. Mayhaps one day, they may ride dragons too. Or be knights of legend where their names would be sung through history for their courage and bravery like their lord father. Despite that, the two had laughed it off and prayed – prayed for their sons to live a good life whatever they seek to choose. The best thing they can do is raise them prepared.

Their boys, now named Kermit and Oscar, were fast asleep in their cots by the edge of her bed after a long day of pageantry. Soon enough, her Tully husband had gathered himself away to work in his chambers and bid her good night. In the quiet of the lonesome night, Mellara too fell to exhaustion and slept soundly, the elevated pillows giving her weary body some much needed comfort. The tranquil night carried her through most of it, eagerly giving her relief. For the first time in three days and nights, there was now rest.

It was the touch of a warm hand gathering her body towards life once again. Blurry eyes slowly opened with care and softened at the sight of Daemon Targaryen sleeping beside her in a stool, his hand not letting go of hers tenderly. Giving a soft smile, Mellara allowed her hand to caress his hand. Her lips fell into a flat line as she softly took in a breath. There was much that she knew he was feeling. 

Viserys Targaryen had once again seen him as an enemy, now that they had once argued, both king and brother. That much had made sure he was not welcome at court once more. His feelings are incoherent over Rhea’s passing. Over the memories of his mother. Over the thought that he could have lost her today. Mayhaps even the years that had lost him the chance to have seen the growth of their son. He grieves, Mellara knows. It was all too much, all too much to bear and to understand. Even for a rogue prince who has made others believe his mask is unbreakable.

“You took your time.” Daemon mumbled under his breath, raising his head slowly. Mellara felt her lips gather upwards, intrigued. “I hated it.”

“It was only three days.”

“Three days that lessened our time together.” He says as he sat up straight, his hand still intertwined with hers. “Really, that bronze bitch.”

“It wasn’t her fault.” Mellara shook her head. “She fell in an accident.”

Daemon snorted. “And they called her queen of the hunt.”

Mellara gazed at him disappointingly. “Daemon, she was my friend. And your wife—”

“No, you are my wife.” Daemon corrected her, his eyes gazing at hers with heavy emotion. “My wife of choice. My only one. And I nearly lost you”

“But you didn’t.” The princess sighed, taking his hands onto her lips and placing a kiss at his palm. “I’m still here, my dearest Daemon.”

“With each scream, I….” He took a moment, lowering his head. “I remembered my mother.”

“But I am not your mother.” Mellara says, stunned. “Our son will grow up with me, his mother.”

“I thought that I would have to, to raise him. Alone and the thought of it all, my little dragon. It overwhelmed me. I…”

“Daemon, I would not—”

He looked at her quizzically. “With Aemon, how did you?....Were you alone?”

She shook her head. “My mother was with me. I was perfectly safe.”

“I should have been there.” Daemon whispers to her, his squeezing of her hand tightened. “When you needed me the most, I was not there. Knowing you were in so much pain.”

Mellara let out a small sigh. “You cannot be with me all the time.”

“I wish to be with you, always.”

“And I always will be.” Mellara reassures him, taking her free hand and placing it on top of his. “We made our vows. We are forever, husband.”

“I know.” Daemon felt the world on his shoulders with each breath. “I know.”

His wife gives him a sly smile. “And do not blame yourself so much, for your time away. You did your duty, to your family and to the realm. We would still be in such strains had you not done what you did.”

“But it kept me away from you and our son.” He whispers somberly as he  ponders. “I had wished I never had done it.”

“You have made both of us proud. Our son considers you his hero.”

He snickers softly. “I am far from a hero, my little dragon.”

Mellara laughs, quietly. “That is true. But that does define you to me or our son.”

In the quiet of the night, the sound of nightingales spoke through from far away. Mellara relished in the sound. Relished in each moment she had loved him. The sight of his body warming her own, even with just a gentle gaze and a touch of his hand. Mellara Targaryen had always longed for this. This serenity together with her beloved Daemon. 

Years upon years, his restless nature had always demanded him elsewhere. Wanting more and more. She had always indulged him in everything. Yet when it was her need, even if it was to give up on his dreams of conquest and glory – Daemon had done so. To be with her here means there was much still he had yet to settle. Even then, he still chose to be here. To sit here and tell her all his love, without the mask that he uses to deceive. This was his heart, it was her. And it keeps beating over and over at the sight of her, loving him.

“Don’t break your promise.” Daemon says, his eyes shining with his affection. “My little dragon, stay with me. Always.”

“There is nothing to worry about, my love.” The princess nodded her head, a wide smile. “I will stay with you, forever.” 

It was not a requirement for them to go, especially when she had just been to childbed two moons before. Daemon Targaryen wantonly watched as his wife eagerly put on her ruby earrings as a servant fixed her hair. He had been watching her for hours, eagerly putting herself through the ceremony of absolution by a septon and making quick decisions on clothes she thought to wear for the feast. The beautiful damask gown with black lace cut through red silk. A cloak of black fur was made from beautiful northern cloth, eager patterns of white flowers trailed behind her in stunning silver thread. 

Mellara Targaryen was not going to pass up the opportunity to be present at her niece’s wedding. It was a momentous occasion, where her family will unite again in one front. Her mother’s house from across the sea and her father from above the skies. It was a powerful match. One that none could deny would lead to a prosperous future. Mellara had found it a shame that she could not persuade Viserys to delay the wedding, to let the two know more about one another. But he had rebuffed her, telling her that the pair had grown together. But it did not make Mellara confident. 

“What are you thinking of?” Daemon asks her, spreading his legs open.  “It is not you to be dulled by boring thoughts.”

“Boring as they may seem, it does intrigue me.” She defended, looking at him through the vanity. “Rhaenyra’s marriage.”

Daemon laughed. “A laughable one.”

“You say that as if you aren’t a pillow biter.” Mellara rolled her eyes, causing Daemon to laugh further. “It’s a wise decision.”

“Do you say that as a Targaryen or a Velaryon?”

“Why is there a need to choose when I am both?” She says, raising a brow. “Is there a difference?”

“Well, I know what Corlys is like.”

“So do I.”

Daemon’s eyes glistened mischievously. “Not as good as I do.”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants.” 

“It matters when his son is marrying our niece.”

“He is not an outsider to us, Daemon.”

Damon raises his hands in a gesture. “Well, he is to me.”

Mellara sighed, gathering herself and turning to the servant, telling them to leave. When they left, Mellara stood and walked towards her husband and slowly laid on top of his knees. Daemon leaned forward, his hand turning to her back and rested onto it to support it. The devotion in his gaze made her heart melt. It was like the starry night, full of wonder and light. Daemon laid a kiss upon her neck. Mellara laughed, tickled by his act.

“Are you not happy that she will have a supportive husband?” She questioned him softly, her hand over his clean shaven hair. “It is what she deserves.”

“I do not trust the interests of outsiders.”

“Rhaenys is hardly an outsider, husband.” She reminded him.

“That may be true, but everyone who is not you and our son. Or Rhaenyra, or my brother…” He allowed his free hand to caress her thigh. “They do not matter.”

Mellara laughed. “Do you truly believe that it is us against the world, my love?”

“Yes.” Daemon answered honestly. “That is why whatever happens, you must stay close to me. I will protect you.”

“Hmm.” Mellara says as she leans forward to his ear and whispers. “Then shall I do the same, my prince?”

Daemon chuckled slowly. “I do not think they will mind our lateness.”

Mellara giggled. “You best hurry then.”                         

“Where are we going?" She asked him, her back leaning against his chest as the horse throttled at a moderate pace. “Your grace?”

"A wondrous place." He answered softly. He looked down on her smaller figure. His eyes filled with worry. "Are you perhaps tired?”

"No, no....I was just....curious."

The way he smiled in relief was like a silver moon light, she thought. She could not completely explain. Her long dark hair tousled against the wind as a massive wave of light glistened through. Looking upwards, her brown eyes felt warmed by the silver moonlight as she watched him remove the heaviness of his layers of woolen cloak lined with rich ermine. His eyes were curious as he gazed back at her, with those gorgeous eyes that only could be his own.

The way his eyes became gentle as he gazed upon her. There was no truth to how he felt, she did not know. But she knew that he needed company. For someone, someone who truly understood him. For the man that he was, not the power he was made to bear. It was lonely, even for him who had everything. It was nothing when no one saw you for who you truly are.

There had never been another man like him. Even further north. There had been many men brought before her for her to marry a long time ago. There were many options, many people who had struck deals with her father for as long as she could remember. None of them had piqued her interest. Nor did she want to be a settled woman, with a brood of children and a dower that would enrich her after her husband died. Even when she was a young woman, the thought of childbirth did not make her happy.

And yet, readily, she stands before this man. His dreams, his hopes. His song. This man whom she could never have had ruptured her thoughts and her being. She was uncertain if she loved him. If she truly could yearn for him in that way. But she cared for him. Enough that she would rip apart herself, what she had known and chose him. She could not see herself anywhere else. Not even back in Winterfell. Not even in the comfort of family. 

“Calling me your grace is stifling.” He admits to her, throwing his cloak onto the ground. Taking a breath, he looked at her warmly. “I thought you had agreed to call me by my name.”

She looked puzzled. “Your grace, that is inappropriate.”

He shook his head, leaning towards her. Leaning his head down to gaze at her, his lips turned into a bowed line. His strong hands embraced her cold warmth. The glistening of indigo and doe eyes made her heart beat. He sighed, his fingers scaling the very essence of her features. As though he was memorizing each and every inch of her soft flesh. The man let a small smile pass his lips. He removed his touch from her, leaving her in a silent forlorn.

 “I have missed you.”

She could not put such words to say.

A moment passes.

Then another.

As he continued to gaze at her, he felt the warmth kiss of winter as her lips slowly twitched into a smile. Her dark crown of hair blissfully adored by the wind once more, dancing through the melody. 

“You are such a puzzle.” The woman whispered to him. “I do not…”

The woman turned away from him and gazed towards the opposite direction and suddenly, she knew he felt seen. The dark purple eyes gazing back at her own brown, eyes full of confusion and shock. The tall man looked at her confused, but he watched her as she walked farther from him and more and more towards someone he could not see. Taking a step back, fearfully so, she continued to advance. Soon enough, there was no escape. She forcibly took hold of her hand. He tried to flee but he was stunned. 

“Aemon Blackmace.” She whispered as she pulled him near. “Do you know who I am?”

[dream-a-little-longer-1]

Ask : Hey Luna! I had the cutest idea! But first how are you? Are you hydrated? Have you eaten? <3 #lunatakecare . Ok back on topic but how would Louis, William, mycroft and Sherlock react to their child saying “I had a nightmare can I sleep with you guys?” Ofc you don’t have to do it or do them all just thought it was adobe 💕

Hi hi Akira chan!( ˘ ³˘)♥how are you? Oh! haha,thank u for asking!its currently 2 am,and im super sleep deprived, didn't have dinner except a piece of bread lol,but i drank water so thats good lmao,so i apologize if this doesnt turn out well haha! This idea is super cute!how can u think of these stuff i wonder! Stay safe,love,Luna

✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡✧*.｡*♡

William

• William starts awake as a small hand tugs at the back of his shirt

•he doesnt jump,nor does he get scared

•he knows those small, innocent hands even if he loses all senses

•so slowly, without waking you up in his arms,William turns his head and with his single scarlet eye,stares down at the small child beside your bed

• "Dad..." You child calls,his voice barely above a whisper, "can i sleep with you guys?i had a nightmare.."

•the thing is, William isnt even fazed

•he remembers clearly how Louis used to crawl in his bed in the orphanage,and later while living with Albert,in their bed

•he remembers the three of them going under the blankets,Albert telling them scary stories he used to read in his father's library

•William remembers how they would've let Louis sleep in the middle,cause it helped him relax

•so when your child stares at him with hopeful, similar scarlet eyes,he cant help but to smile fondly

•and moves slightly,to make room in the middle

•and when they're settled in the middle,you let out a low mumble in your sleep, unconsciously wrapping your arm around your child

•As William does the same

•and the three of you fall asleep just like that

Louis

•Louis tries to hide his yawn behind his hand when the door creaks open,and a small,blond hair covered head peaks through the crack

• "Dad." He hears his child call as you shift around in your sleep, snuggling closer to Louis "can i sleep here tonight?"

•Louis doesnt speak, mainly because he doesnt want to wake you up,but at the same time because this scene is all to familiar to him

•as your child makes you way toward your bed with his teddy bear clutched to his chest

•he sees himself,young and alone in the world,only with his two older brothers

•their arms around him as he would shake in his sleep

•their soothing words as they helped him through the nightmares

•Louis moves slightly,to make room for your child as they climb the bed

•and when both of you snuggle closer to his chest, letting out twin sighs of relief

•he cant help but to smile

•he truly is lucky in his life

Mycroft

•when Mycroft comes home from work, he's already dead on his feet

•so as soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out

•but that doesnt mean when a tiny hand slaps his cheek gently,he wont wake up

•with a barely hidden groan,he opens his eyes

•your hair filling his sight,as he's embraced your waist from the behind

•and when he looks up,a pair of huge, adorable eyes are staring at him from the other side of the bed

• "Daddy," your child whispers, "its ok if i sleep here tonight,right?"

•Mycroft,at the lose of what to do,glances at your smaller figure in his arms,and not wanting to wake you up,only nods

•your child grins,and flops down in front of you

•hugging you around your chest and nuzzles in your embrace happily

•Mycroft extends his arm,so he can embrace both you and your child

•and within the next blink of eye,all three of you are snoring soundlessly

Sherlock

• "Mommy,Daddy,can i sleep with you guys?"

•Sherlock sits on your bed,his unruly hair sticks in every direction

• "shhhh," he whispers, gesturing to your sleeping form,one arm still wrapped around you, "why?you have your own bed."

•your child pouts and fold their arms around your chest, something so similar to you that leaves Sherlock speechless

• "i had a nightmare."

•and with that,they make their way toward the bed, climbing in to hug you from the back

•Sherlock only stares,as your child nuzzles your back and he sighs

•he remembers Mycroft letting him sleep in his bed when he had nightmares too

•and now he understands why;how can you say no to something so precious,so close to your own flesh and blood?

•so he only settles back in bed, extends his arm so he can cover your child as well

•and falls asleep with your soft breathing against his neck

[ladyvesuvia]

Moniker Origin

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

SUMMARY: Befriending a stray dog not only leads to a routine rendezvous every midnight but also the story of how Sirius got one of his many names.

WORDS: 5.5k

WARNING(S): Just fluff but involves cursing, name-calling, nicknames, mentions of celebrities/characters from the 70s, mentions of eating and food. || SECOND PERSON

A/N: can u tell this is kind of an indirect prequel to i’m a dreamer hsjsiw anyway i hope u like it!!! for @meiitanoia my beloved sirius black lovebot <3

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

    You woke up with a start. The curtains to your four-poster bed danced gently, as if attempting to put you into a trance. It worked: You watched it, transfixed more than ever until you slowly gained proper consciousness, or at least enough to let you yawn.

    You reached out to push the curtains a bit to find that it was still night-time. You could hear light snores coming from your roommates, but you ignored it in desperate hopes of falling asleep again. You couldn’t; not that you didn’t want to, because you really did. The reason for your tossing and turning at this late hour was most likely because you slept around six p.m., an unideal hour for sleep on a weekday. You’d passed on dinner, and told yourself you’d just take breakfast early in the morning.

    Giving up, you threw out your feet off the bed, feeling the cold surface of the floor. The clock told you it was half past eleven as it kept ticking and ticking and ticking.

    Before you knew it, you were trudging down the deserted halls of Hogwarts, half-melted dark chocolate in one hand and your lightened wand in the other. You bought it from Honeydukes just last weekend on your visit to Hogsmeade. You didn’t know where you were going, but you just wanted to be somewhere else, maybe even do something exciting.

    For cautionary measures, you looked in every direction every time you reached a turn in fear of getting caught by any roaming person of authority. Peeves would probably make a sound that’ll draw Mr. Filch’s attention; Mrs. Norris could appear, and that in itself is bad news already; Mr. Filch himself could catch you and start throwing insane threats; or maybe someone from the faculty could catch you and put you in detention, and you knew full well you did not want to spend time doing an absurd task.

    When you managed to slip out unnoticed, you walked over to the bank of the lake, the rocks crunching under your feet. It was probably one of the things you find in horror movies when all is still, all is sleeping, and the monster is yet to come—

    Your pulse skipped a beat when the sight of something running away from the forest shuffled past. You realized it was just a dog, but it gave you a shock nonetheless. Just a dog, you thought. Just a dog.

    You pulled out the chocolate from your pocket, unwrapping it carelessly. It wasn’t until you took your first bite did you realize the dog was right behind you, watching you with curious eyes.

    “I’d give you some but dogs aren’t allowed to eat chocolate,” you said to the dog, who then whined in response as it sat down. “I really can’t, I’m sorry.”

    One might think a big black dog sneaking up on you in the middle of a night would cause a fright, but it was strangely more comforting than eerie. After all, it was just a dog.

    Just looking at the creature reminded you of Snuffles, your very own dog who died while you were away from home and sitting in History of Magic, unaware your best bud had passed. You looked down hopefully at the dog in front of you.

    “Snuffles?” you inquired hesitantly, reaching out your hand. Please don’t bite, you chanted more to yourself than to the dog. To your relief, it approached you gingerly and let you pet its head. “Is it you?”

    Highly unlikely, you knew that, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope that it was, right? You’d spent your entire childhood with that dog: Sleeping together under a poorly done fort until daybreak; getting lost in the neighborhood together, earning disapproving opinions from the neighbors; and most of all, countless birthdays.

    Well, just to name a few.

    Maybe it was the moonlight reflecting off of the lake’s waters, but you could’ve sworn you saw the dog wink. You took your hand back to rub your eyes before studying the dog. “Are you Hagrid’s?”

    The dog simply sat there, looking at you curiously. “Right, like a dog’s gonna talk back to me.” You chuckled, laughing at yourself. “Come, I’ll bring you back to him.”

    It didn’t move. “Look, I can’t give you chocolate. Maybe I can sneak you some steak or something next time if you’re still here. I’d give you dog food but they don’t have that around here. But I reckon Hagrid has some, though. Do you want me to get you food?”

    Once again, maybe (just maybe) it was only your imagination, but you got the sense that the dog disagreed. You didn’t push it any further and so you simply made yourself comfortable even under the rocks. You set down your cloak under your bottom to serve as a mat. It didn’t do much, but it was better. You gestured for the dog to come closer.

    “I’m gonna call you Snuffles now,” you said as you picked up a stone. “Watch this.” With a swing of your arm, you sent the stone flying into the lake, skipping three times. “I used to be able to do four. You’d know, you were there!”

    Snuffles your dog from years ago indeed was there with you when it happened on your family trip to your lake house, but this was not Snuffles; this was your very own classmate and Housemate, Sirius Black himself. He’d never talked to you before, much less noticed you, so it was a surprise to him that he’s spending his time with you at this late hour.

    Nevertheless, it was a time well-spent even when it was mostly (entirely) just watching you skip rocks down the lake as you talked about the aforementioned Snuffles. He didn’t know how long you two sat there, but sat you did anyway. Twice he thought of a joke to tell only to be disappointed for of course, he couldn’t voice it out.

    “I named her Snuffles because she used to cry a lot when we first brought her home from the shelter and mum didn’t want us to call her Sniffles so I went with the next best thing.” You put your legs in front of you. “Poor little thing.”

    It wasn’t until the sky brightened a bit did you realize you were thirsty from all the talking you were doing. You would've stayed for the sunrise but, well, schedules would tragically overlap.

    “Crap,” you thought as you began picking up your cloak, “I’ll end up dozing off in class! Anyway, I’ll try and bring you steak later, Snuffy.”

    With a wave, you ran away from the lake, cloak in your arms, unaware that you had left your wand behind. Sirius was watching you until you disappeared from sight before he spotted the wand, which he then picked up.

    He de-transformed on his way just a bit by a wall, and as soon as he did, he tucked your wand into his own cloak. He glanced back just for a second before running back to the castle. By the time he got to the painting of the Fat Lady, he halted at the sight of the girl from earlier — you.

    “—you know me already, ma’am. I just forgot the password is all. Please let me in.”

    “No password, no entry,” spat the Fat Lady. “And it does not do to wake up a sleeping person.”

    “Well, you’re just a painting,” you mumbled. And if Sirius could hear it from where he was standing, the Fat Lady probably heard it too.

    “Hmph!” exclaimed the Fat Lady. “Children are foul.”

    “They are, aren’t they?” you chimed in hopes of getting on the Fat Lady’s better graces.

     “I was talking about you, child,” said the Fat Lady with disdain. “Now scoot!”

     You were about to walk away when Sirius decided to walk in. You froze.

    It was only until then did it dawn on Sirius that he did not know your name because you had not told him anything earlier. He turned to the Fat Lady.

    “Spondulicks,” said Sirius. The Fat Lady merely grunted as the painting swung open to reveal the room. “After you, m’lady.”

    It was like he was seeing a different person; you refused to meet his eyes as you hurriedly walked into the opening of the painting, arms crossed. He was almost about to give you your wand but realized what a bad idea that would be, and so he kept his mouth shut.

    You kept walking straight ahead, and Sirius had to stifle his laugh at the sight of you missing a step on the stairs to the girls’ dormitory, especially when your pace quickened after this.

    That morning at breakfast, you were nowhere to be found. Sirius took his seat next to James while skimming the length of the Gryffindor table.

     “What’re you looking for?” asked James, curiously scanning the table as well.

     “This girl with [Y/H/C] hair,” Sirius replied absentmindedly as he slowly settled down, still looking for her.

     “A girl? You’re gonna have to be more specific, mate. But bagsy snogging her.”

    “What — you can’t bagsy her, you haven’t even met her,” spat Sirius. James was rather taken aback but still seemed to be stifling his laugh at the outburst nonetheless. Sirius cleared his throat. “And need I remind you that you’re trying to get Evans?”

    “Mhm, I was just trying to see how interested you were in this girl to be preoccupied with looking for her instead of petting your hair.” More and more people began to file in to the common room and Sirius’s attention went to the door after determining you were not seated in one of the tables.

    “It’s called combing, and you should try it.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. “It would do you good to look fresh at least once.”

    James snickered. “What can I tell you, Pads? The ladies like the rugged look.”

    “I don’t think they do,” remarked Remus.

    “Oh trust me, Remus,” James started with a smug grin. “They do. The key to it is—”

    But Sirius never found out what ‘the key to it’ was; at least, not today. After a group of younger Ravenclaws walked in, he finally spotted you right behind them and his back straightened even more. For what, he did not know.

    You took your seat beside a couple more Gryffindors and helped yourself to food on your own plate. You were busy rubbing her eyes, giving Sirius more time to watch. When you finished, you caught him looking at you, but he didn’t break the eye contact; instead, he smiled.

    “Oh, her?” exclaimed James, trying to get a better look. Sirius gently kicked his foot at how obvious he was, but he nodded in confirmation. James blew a raspberry. “I can’t bagsy, can I?”

    Sirius scowled. “No.”

    “Then I call dibs.”

   “Wha — that’s the same thing! You can’t just call dibs.” Sirius cleared his throat once more, for James was raising a brow to signify he’d proved his point. “You can’t.”

    “Wouldn’t hurt you to go on over and talk to her, would it? After all, you do it all the time.” James stretched out his arms and made gestures of triumph. “Hook, sink, liner.”

    “It’s actually ‘Hook, line, and sinker,’” said Remus.

    “No it’s not. Get a load of this guy,” James joked (or not). “Anyway, come on, I’ll come with you. But I apologize in advance if my hair works better than yours.”

    When they made it over to where you were sitting, you appeared to be manually wiping your plate with a tissue.

    “Excuse me,” started Sirius, gesturing at the plate, “May I?”

    Hesitantly and still not meeting his gaze, you handed him the plate. Sirius pulled out his wand and with a small flick, he said, “Tergeo!”

    When he handed it back, you simply nodded your head in thanks and began to stuff it in your bag.

    “Wait, are you stealing a plate?” James asked with a grin, on the verge of laughing. “You wouldn’t want to do that. See, our friend’s a Prefect and he’ll totally tell Professor Meownerva — pun courtesy of Peter, by the way.” James snickered. “I wish I’d thought of it first be—Ow!”

    Sirius had stepped on James foot. “I’ll take it from here, Bambi.”

    James managed a scowl before leaving the scene. You didn’t know what to do; so in your mind, you started devising ways to get yourself out of that situation: Make a run for it or melt on the spot; neither seemed like a good option.

    “Why are you stealing a plate?” he asked.

    “Er — long story. Have a good day.” Then you stood up and began to walk away, backing up a bit to grab a piece of sandwich before completely storming off.

    When Sirius returned the other three were there, laughing out loud together.

    James leaned closer. “Her name’s [Y/N].”

    “Then why didn’t you tell me?” exclaimed Sirius, annoyed.

    “Hook, sink, liner,” said James confidently.

    Remus cleared his throat again. “Again, it’s ‘Hook, line, and’—”

    “Yeah, sure, whatever,” dismissed James.

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

    On your first class (Transfiguration), the two of you clearly could not at all suppress your yawns: Sirius was doing fairly better compared to you, for he had the decency to not let his head plop face down on his desk, but he was sleepy nonetheless. This was no surprise to Sirius. After all, he hadn’t slept that morning. As for you, he did not know whether or not you slept but according to your peaceful and sleeping face, he kind of had a clue.

    He wasn’t listening, and so when everyone brought out their wands, he just cluelessly followed the others. Professor McGonagall approached the middle row and stopped just right next to you.

    “Miss [Y/L/N]?” started McGonagall. “If I’m not mistaken, bedtime ended hours ago.”

     You merely grunted. McGonagall cleared her throat. “Excuse me, Miss [Y/L/N]?”

    The professor put the back of her palm against your forehead. She lifted your face off the table and her eyes widened. “Heavens! Child, you look positively ghastly. Remus, kindly take—”

    “I’ll do it,” said Sirius. “I’m her. . .” As he trailed off, all eyes went back and forth from you, McGonagall, and him. He opened his mouth again to add, “friend. We’re friends.”

    Although McGonagall appeared to be reluctant, she let you go, advising you to visit Madam Pomfrey. Sirius risked a smug look in James’s way before following you out the door, eager to speak with you.

    “So you’re feeling unwell?” asked Sirius.

    “Look, buddy, I appreciate it but I honestly just want to go to bed.”

    “Didn’t Minnie McG tell you to visit Madam Pomfrey?”

    You halted. “I’m not sick.”

    “What do you mean? What about the drowsy eyes and the head hurting and the red nose—?”

    “Okay, now you’re making my head hurt.” You faced him, hands on your hips in defiance. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Black: I’ll go back to my room and you’ll take a walk to the Hospital Wing and back to class.”

    “But you’re sick.”

    “Buddy, I’m really not,” you said with an irritated laugh. “I haven’t slept yet and I lost my wand. How do you think I’ll be able to go to class without a damn wand?”

    Sirius scoffed. “Then what about your runny red nose and teary eyes?”

    “Really? Are purebloods really that dense not to come up with basic ways to get out of class?” It was almost ironic. After all, you’d heard tons of brilliant things pureblooded wizards could do. Clearly they weren’t as crafty. You snorted. “Do you really want to know?”

    “Do I? Of course I do.”

    And with a bit of consideration, you recounted your gimmicks: collecting two chili peppers from the table and lightly patting your finger under your eyes to make it teary (it badly hurt), pinching your nose as soon as you left the Great Hall and sprinkling a bit of pepper on your sleeve to get yourself to sneeze, taking a quick hot shower without getting your hair wet, and more.

    “Wow,” he exclaimed under his breath, astonished. You shrugged in response, turning around to walk away. “Wait, then why did you agree for me to take you instead of Remus?”

    “Eh, well, your friend who’s trying so hard to be Michael Landon said that the Remus guy was a Prefect so I figured that he’s probably a snitch.”

    “Trust me, he’s not a snitch,” Sirius said with a laugh. “Wait, I don’t even know who Michael Landon is but could you say that thing again but to James’s face tomorrow morning at breakfast?”

    “No.” You turned your back on him, walking away. “May we never talk again.”

    “You’re welcome, by the way!” He watched as you made a turn, disappearing from view before making a face. “Ungrateful chick.”

    That entire day, you spent your time in bed, tossing and turning to keep yourself awake. Whenever someone came in during vacant time, you made sure the curtains to your four-poster bed were sealed shut while pretending to sniffle.

    It was Friday, so you were thankful for the time to rest. You were thinking of just looking for your wand tomorrow when you remembered the dog. You shifted in your bed as you slowly stood up, peeking through the curtains of your bed. Your roommates were probably still in the common room, so you peeked your head out to grab your bag from beside your bed and pulled it in before shutting the curtains close.

    You pulled out the plate you got from earlier that morning and waited.

    Waited for your roommates to come in and chat for a while.

    Waited until the lights went out.

    Waited until the only sound you could hear was the ticking of the clock in the room.

    You were about to fall asleep when what you could only assume was a bird hit itself against the window, jolting you awake.

    It was dead silent. And just like you did hours ago, you threw your feet out of your bed. Going out at this hour without a wand felt threatening, but you reassured yourself, just thinking over and over that it would be just like old times back when you didn’t know you were a witch.

    There was no one in the common room by the time you got down there. You tightened your grip on the plate in your hands, thinking about how good a weapon it would make (it probably wasn’t, but it was good enough to make you feel like you had a chance).

    You slipped out, unaware once more of the same boy you had talked to the night before following you.

    The walk down the halls and stairs without a light made your tour all the more frightening: Jumping when you accidentally graze your hand too much on one of the paintings which often earned an angry grunt from them, feeling for the next step of the stairs in fear of tripping over, and so on.

    Sirius resisted the urge to just approach you and give you your wand, resorting to just staying behind to make sure you got out safely. He was about to keep going straight ahead when you made a turn, confusing him.

    It took a few more turns for him to realize you were headed for the kitchens. He had to wait outside until you came back out a short while later with something in the plate.

    Laughing silently to himself, he followed you again to the grounds, your wand in his cloak pocket, feeling like a hundred pounds weighing him down.

    You went back to where you were last night, scouring the rocks in hopes of spotting a distinct shape among the round shapes. You cursed under your breath in disappointment as you set the plate of steak aside, your eyes falling to the dark surface of the lake. Gulping, you tied up the pant legs of your pajamas, mumbling inaudible words to yourself at what you were about to do.

    Only your feet were in the water when you heard a loud bark, causing you to jump a bit, toppling backward at the sight of the black dog. You felt the water soak your back and a bit of your head.

    “Snuffles?” you asked the dog whilst shaking yourself dry as you stood up. “There’s steak over there. It’s for you.”

    If it weren’t for his physical state, Sirius would be laughing right now. The least he could do was walk your way, sitting right beside the plate of the steak.

    “I know it’s not as good as I promised but it’s the best I could give, I’m sorry,” you said to the dog as it looked at you curiously. You bent down to pick up your cloak, drying yourself and wrapping it around you. With a huff, you squeezed the water out of your hair and sat down on the rocks once again. “I only came down here to look for my wand. It probably rolled down to the bottom of the lake already.”

    You yawned. The lack of sleep was already taking a toll on you and you couldn’t let the sun rise before you could lie down in bed.

    “Do you not like the steak?” you asked again. “You know, I got that plate for you.”

   The dog’s ears perked up, and you reached out to pet it.

    “Thank Merlin I got away from that fruitcake.”

▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰

    “I’m a fruitcake,” Sirius told his friends that morning as they fell in line for their Hogsmeade trip. James looked at his friend as if he had gone mad (well, one can say he’s halfway there). “Out of all the things I could be, I’m a fruitcake.”

    “Took you long enough to figure that out,” said Peter, who then brightened when James burst into a laugh.

    “You sure?” said Remus, adjusting his tie. “If you are, then you’re far too salty to be one.”

    “Guys, I’m ser—” He cut himself off, aware that they were waiting for an opening to pick fun at his name. “I am not joking.”

    “Because you’re. . .?” James said, encouraging him.

    Sirius let out an exasperated sigh. “Serious.”

    And just like that, the entire group howled in laughter. Rolling his eyes, Sirius scanned the crowd again, but it was the same thing as yesterday — you were once again nowhere to be found.

    “Wait, where did you get this fruitcake comment from?” asked Remus.

    Sirius recounted your past encounters with him, earning a whoop of cheer and a pat from James.

    “I have a plan,” said Sirius. “I’ll just so happen to ‘run into’ her in Hogsmeade and she’ll think I’m charming because I did my hair better today.”

    “I don't know, I reckon it’ll be hard to jump from fruitcake puppy to charming knight and shining armor,” said Remus.

    It wasn't until they were near the front of the line did Sirius realize there was still no sign of you. He then stepped out of the line, earning sudden protests from the rest of the group.

    He made a show of waving at the other three as he disappeared from view before darting down the halls and up the stairs until he made it to the common room, where he plopped down on the couch. A couple of first and second years were gathered by the window playing chess.

    Sirius kept his head down as he waited for you to come out until finally, about almost ten minutes later, heavy steps came from the girls’ dormitory as it descended down the stairs. Sirius kept his face down so as to hide himself for you, cursing at himself for being too. . .what’s a nicer way to put creepy again?

    He followed you again like the night before, going over the things he wanted to say.

    Hello, I’m actually Snuffles.

    I’m Snuffles.

    Hi, I’m not really a reincarnation of your dog because I’m actually a fruitcake!

    It just kept getting worse in his head the more that he dwelled on it, and so he resorted to just focusing on his step when you halted, causing him to run into you.

    “You,” you started, stopping with your finger pointed right at him, daring him to speak, “why are you following me?”

    “Because. . .” Sirius trailed off. Why was he following you?

    Because I'm Snuffles and I have your wand. Because I can turn into a dog. Because while I am Snuffles, I'm also not really Snuffles. Because—

    “Because I found your wand,” he blurted out. “Well, consider it as a token of appreciation.”

    “For what?”

    “For being a good friend. . . ?”

    “As far as I know, the first and only time we ever even talked was just yesterday,” you said, gesturing with your hands. “What’s your deal?”

    “I want to take a walk,” Sirius relaxed, grinning at you.

    “Then do it yourself!” you exclaimed.

    “With you, I mean.”

    Sirius’s tone calmed you down at least a bit, and so you cleared your throat. Come to think of it, he’s probably not that bad.

    You began to walk with him on your way out to the grounds. “And what do I get out of this walking thing of yours?”

    Sirius waved his hand with a flourish as we jogged ahead to stop right in front of you, tipping an imaginary hat. “Bragging rights, madam.”

    You halted. “You’re gonna have to try better than that, Vinnie Barbarino.”

    “Er — that’s good, right?” he asked, tensing up again as he composed himself.

    “Depends on how you look at it.”

    “Well, does he have nice hair?”

    “Again, depends on how you look at it.”

    “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

    “You and me both, Vinnie,” you told him with a huff as you two set foot outside.

    “It’s certainly better than fruitcake,” he muttered under his breath. You leaned in closer, your brow raised in question. He shook his head and told you it was nothing.

    By the time you made it to the bank of the lake, you found yourself unconsciously searching the rocks for your wand.

    Sirius snorted. “You can keep looking but it’s not there.”

    “Wasn’t trying to.”

    He watched as you bent down to pick up a rock and moved closer to the lake. Just like you did a few nights ago, you swung your arm to skip a rock. It was kind of like a movie for him; the way your shoulders sunk a bit after getting only three skips. “I used to be able to do four.”

    I’d know, Sirius thought as he grinned at the irony. I was there. Maybe I really am Snuffles.

    “So, when are you going to give me my wand?” You turned around to face him again, dusting your hands as you did so.

    Sirius wanted to tell you about his alter-ego badly. But at the same time, it was right there and then Sirius realized something. He normally hated the idea of a routine; loathed it, even. But he figured that maybe, just this once, he could make an exception. He didn’t mind going out every single night as Padfoot or Snuffles if it meant the world to you to have something to look forward to. In fact, the line was starting to blur between all his names: Sirius Black, Onion, Padfoot, Snuffles, Fruitcake.

    Sirius cleared his throat and told you, “Monday morning when you have breakfast with me.”

    “I’m not gonna have breakfast with you.”

    “You are now because you’ll get a coupon.”

    “What coupon?” you asked, crossing your arms.

    “Bragging rights for spending time with me — Sirius Orion Black.”

    “You’re awfully presumptuous.”

    “Why are you so mean?” Sirius feigned pain by clutching his chest, making a show.

    You bit your cheek in attempt not to laugh. “Look, just give me back my wand.”

    “Give me your word that you’ll have breakfast with me first.”

    “Fine,” you told him. “Now will you give me my wand back?”

    Sirius let out a long sigh before taking a step forward and bending down to pick up a rock. He swung his arm backward as he made a shot.

    One, two, three, four.

    He faced you. “Hook, sink, liner.”

    “It’s ‘hook, line, and sinker,’ how could you mess that up?”

    “Damn it, James,” he cursed under his breath. “Anyway, here’s your wand.”

    This definitely took you by surprise, especially when he pulled it out of his coat pocket and handed it to you with only a friendly smile and without any hesitation.

    You grabbed it as fast as you could just in case he changed his mind at the last minute.

    Sirius fought the urge to pick fun at the fact that this was close to what one may call fetch.

    Wow, he thought. Merlin, I’m literally Snuffles. Sirius could hear his friends’ jeers light years away: Playing fetch with her, Snuffy? Will you also let her walk you? Oh, wait, you already did!

    “Thank you,” you told him. “I was literally prepared to dive down there just to get my wand. I know what a big hassle it is to get it replaced and everything.”

    “I know,” he said, pertaining to how he knew the lengths you were ready to go to just so you could find your wand, but you took what he said an answer to what you said last.

    Sirius began walking again, and you followed. “Why didn’t you go to Hogsmeade with the others?”

    “Eh, I’ve been there a lot of times. We’ll go there next time. I’ll take you to—”

    You halted. “Woah, woah, who said I’ll be coming with you?”

    “Time,” Sirius protested. “It tells you things even you wouldn’t be able to know.”

    You scoffed as you kept walking alongside him. “Eh, well, we got Professor Trelawney for that. What do you say we visit her classroom and play with balls? I mean, orbs. No, stop laughing.”

    But he didn’t stop. And honestly, neither did you; not even when you completed a turn around the grounds.

    That night was a brilliant one: You were headed back downstairs, this time keeping your wand tight in your hand as you did so.

    Just like as far as always can go, Snuffles sat by the lake, looking at the ripples that danced along its surface. Why did the dog suddenly look familiar?

    You stood right next to Snuffles, who was now looking up at you curiously.

    “I can’t stay for long,” you told the dog. “I have to sleep early, you know. I mean, you don’t, but — whatever.”

    You bent down to pick up a rock again, watching it skip three times. You cursed under your breath, “How’d he do it?”

    Snuffles, originally Sirius himself, snorted. You turned to the dog and shook your head, telling yourself it was your want of sleep playing tricks on you.

    “Fruitcake’s actually not that bad,” you started as you picked up another rock. Sirius looked up again. “I think I’ll give him a chance.”

    When you finally gave up on skipping rocks, you sat down right next to the dog. “He kinda left a ring of his, see?” You showed the dog Sirius’s ring. The dog blinked. “I’m not planning on keeping it, I’ll give it back to him on a good day.”

    A bird flew by, causing you to jump a bit. “Yep, I’m gonna need to sleep this out. Go to Hagrid’s will you? Actually, no, come with me.”

    You lead the dog to Hagrid’s hut and told it to stay there. Sirius thought it was funny seeing you boss him around in a gentler manner.

    With a wave, you ran back to the doors and dashed up the stairs until you reached the dormitories, where you hastily got in your bed and tucked yourself in.

    When breakfast came and you casually sat down right across from Sirius and beside James, a thought came to Sirius’s head again: He wanted you to know him as Sirius Black, no disguises involved. Sure, maybe he’d learn more of you if he continued doing it but . . . he wanted you to learn more of himself, too.

    As for telling you his secret identity (not Batman), he decided that it’d be best to let his future self deal with it and just enjoy breakfast with you, which is hopefully just the first of many.

    One last thing, though: Snuffles grew on Sirius. Safe to say that he got attached; so much that even when time told new people new fates, he found a way to let the name stay by using it as a safe codename as an attempt to become a lovable stray in the time of danger.

    But that doesn’t matter just yet, not when the group was busy having one of the most brilliant Mondays to date.

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @sfdlm @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @elevatorsdoor @mrzweasley @gwlvr @1-800-itsfreerealestate @marrymetheonott @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @sexysirius @turn-to-page-394-please @greenlyblue @henqtic @badass-yn @meiitanoia @gaycatlord-stuff @just2bubbly @awakendevildays @dracomalfoyposts @crazy-beautiful @adoreyou976 @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts

[4stars-uswnt]

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games,  you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.  

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

[unbridgeabledistances]

whipped up this little gallavich father’s day one-shot bc i woke up and had feelings!

(to everyone who has a complicated relationship to father’s day—know that i love u 💗)

tw for mention of dead parents / abuse (terry 🙄🙄)

***

It was quiet when they woke— it had been months, and Mickey could finally admit that he had gotten a little bit used to waking up to the silence and blinding sunshine, the light reflecting off of the shiny glass exterior of their neighbors’ apartment complex windows and the soft chatter of people sitting down below at the pool as the slow summer mornings turned into lazy afternoons.

He turned to face Ian, shifting under the plush duvet they were wrapped in tightly; usually summer heat meant sleeping in underwear and a pool of your own fucking sweat in the South Side, but this boujee-ass place had fucking air conditioning that blasted all night long— Mickey nearly wore a fucking sweats and a hoodie to bed the first hot summer day when they’d started blasting it in the place. Ian had just grinned, making fun of him for being dressed like he was about to climb Mount Everest, and had pulled him closer under the sheets to wrap him in warmth.

Mickey rubbed at his eyes, reaching for his phone and clicking it to see the time. 7:52, the asscrack of dawn on a Sunday morning as far as he was concerned. No wonder Ian was still sleeping.

He had a couple of notifications— a few texts from Sandy, livetweeting when she was out last night and probably drunk out of her mind at some gay bar she’d started going to on the West Side at Ian’s recommendation; while Mickey had resisted those expensive-ass hipster beers at every fucking turn, Sandy had been coming by his and Ian’s place a lot more these days, and Ian had kept convincing them to all go out at the boujee queer spots along the block. Whatever— so what if he blew $9 on a fucking IPA that tasted like fucking battery acid? Ian loved it, Sandy loved it more, and he could afford to spend a few nights at some hipster-ass bar with his cousin and his husband hanging off his hip. He could do that shit now.

He scrolled through some emails, trying desperately to tune out the work bullshit and ignore the unread emails in his inbox— he and Ian had been making bank lately, the business growing more than ever especially now that COVID restrictions were all but nonexistent and people were ready to fucking party. He and Ian definitely spent more hours than not attached to their fucking Gmail app, scrolling through new requests and niche demands from growers; but they’d agreed that weekends were off-time, and talking about work was strictly forbidden. “Weekends are husband time, not co-worker time, Mick.”

Even so, Ian was still sleeping, and Mickey didn’t know what else the fuck to do until he woke up— he filtered idly through the inbox, then opened Instagram and started scrolling mindlessly, through pictures of his few dipshit cousins and their new gun purchases and questionable tattoo choices.

It was then when he saw the picture that V had just posted: a black-and-white photo of Kev and the girls, sitting at some sidewalk restaurant in Louisville.

To the papa bear of my amazing girls. Happy Father’s Day.

Fucking Father’s Day.

It’s not like Mickey didn’t know when Father’s Day was— it was more that its occurrence was knowledge that he passively avoided. The only time he remembered knowing when the fuck it was was in elementary school, when they’d been forced to draw colorful cards for their dads on thick sheets of construction paper. He’d drawn a fucking cool one for Terry, with scribbles of skulls and snakes and a picture of him and Mandy. He remembered clutching it tight between his fingers the walk home from school that Friday, and immediately shoving it deep into his backpack when he returned home and it was one of the bad days, the days filled with screaming and sobbing and him and Mandy huddled together in his bed.

“Hey, you okay?” Ian’s arm was snaking around Mickey’s waist under the blankets—a heavy weight, welcoming the air back into Mickey’s lungs.

Mickey reached over to ruffle Ian’s hair. “G’morning, sleepyface.”

Ian’s eyes searched Mickey’s face, then squeezed tightly shut as he yawned. He leaned to rest his head on Mickey’s shoulder, a dull weight on his chest.

“You know it’s Father’s Day?”

Ian craned his neck back again to meet Mickey’s eyes. “Huh.”

From his pensive gaze, Mickey could tell that the realization stunned Ian in the same way it had hit him. “Yup.”

They were silent. Ian reached his arm aimlessly under the covers, searching for Mickey’s hand— intertwining their fingers.

“It’s fucking weird, man.”

Ian breathed out a silent laugh of relief, a gust of air through his nose. “Was just thinking the same fucking thing. I could hate Frank on Father’s Day when he was alive, talk all the shit I wanted— seems kind of hard to do now that’s he’s gone.”

Mickey pressed his lips together. “Yeah.” The heavy feeling—the loss, the dread, was still heavy in his chest, beating next to where Ian’s head was resting. “Homophobic that this shit is during pride month, anyways. Don’t they know all the gays have fucking daddy issues?”

Ian snorted—and they laid there, breathing. Ian’s thumb started to trace a pattern on Mickey’s inner palm— soft, slow. “What d’you wanna do today?”

“I don’t know, man. A distraction would be nice. Can’t fucking scroll through Instagram without thinking about my dead dad, kind of a fucking mood kill.”

Ian laughed. “Yeah.” He took in a breath. And then:

“I know I keep talking about the kid shit. But I can’t stop thinking about when today will be, like. Exciting for us. Someday. Y’know?”

Mickey felt something lurch in his chest—he didn’t really know what it was. He and Ian had been talking about the kid thing— Ian dropping hints here and there, Mickey giving his wary consent that he’d tell Ian when he was ready. And now—this.

There was gonna be a day, some day—when Father’s Day didn’t feel like the hardest goddamn thing in the world anymore. Even after a lifetime of bad ones.  

Mickey felt the beginning of tears pricking in his eyes—stupid, stupid.

“Yeah, man. Guess so.”

[jovnie]

Artificial Intelligence | Namjoon

Summary

Namjoon after wondering the internet, came across a website Ad for a personalized A.I made for him and only for his viewing pleasure.

Words 3k

Cyber namjoon au! College namjoon! A.i reader!

Warnings: smut, masturbation, virtual reality, moaning and heavily, medium amount of plot, kind of vanilla, riding, dirty talk, muscular joon. Oral (f), heavy whining, begging, dom joon, verbal joon.

With his eyes glued tiredly to the computer, his hand moved the curser to press play. This was his third year in college, being who knew what at the end. After years of tiredness from research papers to fieldwork, being a chemistry major wasn’t paying off one bit. Not his student debt either. Yawning, his arms stretched up and then out before returning them back to the slightly chipped computer to type the URL in.

With each little tap and click, he answered the questions before being brought back to the previous page. Groaning in utter frustration, he closed his computer and put his head on the computer before meantly screaming. He was half way through the questions and it took him out and how knows if he had 200+ more to do. Sighing, he lifted his head uttering, “at least its not the actual test”

With slight relief, he lifted the mac screen and saw he exited everything on accident. Giving up, he searched for a virtual teacher. With no luck, he stumbled across and Ad for an A.I. with an obvious lack of how the cyber world was or knowledge on A.I, he opened a new tab. With searching the key word. ‘A.I’ a small little text box appeared.

A.I ( Artificial Intelligence )

is an intelligence demonstrated by machines, as opposed to the natural intelligence displayed by humans or animals

After looking up the word and its definition, he thought he had a solid idea of what it was. Therefore he exited the tab and searched the subject and then Ai. After doing so he scrolled and clicked what he assumed to be a cite and looked at what it had to offer.

“This is neat. Ah, Let’s see where this goes! Maybe if I do this I can study with a human, I think?” He spoke aloud, looking at the options. Waking up a bit from the sudden excitement, he stretched his body and looked around for a notepad and pen. While doing so, a pop up appeared.

Stacy is single and is 65 miles away from you, wanna interact

Once namjoon returned, he saw the women and clicked off. He figured this wasn’t an appropriate or free ran website. Itching the back of his head, he continued until another pop up this time an ad appeared.

Create your own human A.I with unlimited uses here

Curiously he clicked the ad and saw you had to buy it, immediately he got up from his desk. Legs numb a bit from the lack of moment, he grabbed his wallet and took out his student card. Shopping he looked at the computer than a card. “Yeah no,” he laughed to himself, knowing he could catch a case he didn’t want so he grabbed his credit card before swiveling the chair to sit down. After blindly trusting the site, he was taken to the tutorial and saw a fully naked man on the screen. In shock, he shut the computer down to realize it wasn’t that A. I he needed. Sighing, he flipped the top back up and immediately felt hopeless with the exam. Seeing there’s a female version, he looked around to make sure none on the body was there. He knew he had the room to himself, but it’s still worth it. You never knew, who could be watching.

From there he closed his blinds, turned off the lights, and got back to the computer. He started to create your body down to the smallest detail. He had time as his classes for the week were canceled for finals and other school-related activities like college tours etc.

“Finally, you’re done and now we give you a name!” he smirked softly, rubbing his palm over his jeans on accident. With a few glances and searches, he named you y/n. Smiling, he pressed continue and saw there was an outfit room and spent a few more moments picking something cute, casual and sexy for your body frame. After that was done, he pressed continue. Suddenly there was timer and another pop up.

TIME REMAINING: 23hours 59mins and 23seconds

Thank you for ordering “Y/n” the A.I, everything is processing as you read. While you wait, please pick from the available voices and chose which one suits your needs “Namjoon!”

He had no clue what to expect, but it was worth the wait. Meanwhile, he spent an hour going through the types of voices he wanted you to have, till he could find your voice a perfect match for his needs. After pressing finish, he plugged his computer in and left his computer on as he got out of the chair and brought himself to his bed to sleep. Thankfully, he took a shower hours ago and was already more steps to sleeping than ever. Soon after, his head laid softly on the white pillow and his eyes began to close asleep.

The next day, around 5minuets, until it was time to see what he had gotten himself into. He moved his viewing location to his bed as it was simply more comfortable. Beforehand, he ate and cleaned out items he thought might me helpful with what he thought he’d get into in any minute now. While waiting with pain, he watched the minutes drop one by one until it was less than a minute and he grabbed his seanna drift, a virtual reality set made for his computer and recommended from an email sent to him earlier. He figured it came with more than just the yearly plan he paid for.

As his wallet cried, he read the direction of the screen ok how to connect the device to the website and began following the video instructions. As they told him where to find things and hook it up, he saw that it needed to charge and groaned loudly in annoyance. So he spent that saddened hour, cleaning his room till he saw green and followed the instructions once again.

“Okay ready!” he said, as the Vr headset and earbuds sat softly on his head. With wow and o’s he saw you in this basic room with the lights off and sudden shoe-making noises. Turning his head, he saw you turn on the lights and sat on the bed in front of him. Looking around he took note of his virtual surroundings before grabbing his flashlight and pouring lube he had trouble finding on the table and poor it inside the toy.

Waiting for you to make a move, he got up and placed his computer on the bedside table, and laid on his back. As shirtless and gray sweatpants he was, he still felt clothed. In that moment he took off his sweats, leaving his boxers on he noticed the screen changed onto the bed and it spoked him slowly. With you laying on his chest, he grabbed a free pillow and hugged it as if you were there.

“You feel warm” you chuckled, as namjoon blushed in the shock.

“Thanks, I guess you can see and hear me?” He asked, rubbing you “the pillow softly”

“I can, my system works like an actual person” you mentioned look g him in the eyes. Confused, he hummed in agreement. Whining, he was very pleased with how human you were and a bit concerned as well. He was amused and amazed at how advanced society had become.

After small talk, he warmed up to your very realistic body, voice and actions. Not to mention his hands moving slowly up and down his length as he watched you shower and how cute you looked when you did. Moving a bit faster, you looked and the system told you he was jerking off.

In a surprise you turned around and looked at him, covering your body. With him in tune with idea, he smirked. “what’s wrong baby? You don’t like when I view your body like this?” He asked, grinding his hips against the pillow.

“Well, um I do. Its just new to me okay” your system lies, as it registered grunts from namjoon.

“Well can you turn around for me?” He adds, taking his toy and liking it up to his actual length. Nodding, you turned around and bent over. As namjoon said his movements as listed in the tutorial earlier, you opened your legs as if he was spreading them for you. Holding onto the wall, he said more commands, and eventually, it looked like he was fucking you and it caused an involuntary grunt from his mouth.

“Fuck!” He cursed, sliding the toy up and down in a slow pace as he watched how his camera was moving. Looking at you he got up from a lying position, to his knees and moved the pillow into a u shape and placed his toy so it could feel more real to him.

Hearing your soft moans and a good view of your ass, he began to thrust faster into the toy, holding the pillow down as if he was your back and began moaning curse words. Luckley his head gear caught that and made your moans shift to match his rhythm.

“Ah! Ah! Please don’t stop!” You moaned, griping the shower walls looking back as his eyes wondered your body and all heard from him were grunts. Keeping your ask, he tried pacing himself so he wouldn’t cum too soon as the feeling was slowly building the more he got more into it.

“God! Fuck” he cursed again, as his head went back imaging you bounce back on him. Moving the toy to the desired speed, he kept going closing his eyes and listening to your moans as he reached his end. Jerking forward once more, his cock twitched as his cum spilled inside the toy. After coming down from the slight high, he looked at you who was hard breathing, body slightly shaking and a stream of cum laced your ass with grace.

After today’s use of the A.I he unplugged the device and let it charge. Shortly after, he exited the screen you were on and went to take a shower. Reflecting and thinking how could he make this experience even better and with that thought, he googled the company and saw they made Bluetooth connected toys. Browsing he found a torso toy and paid the extra $15 for the next day delivery. Smiling, he closed his computer and went to beg shortly after.

The next night, he had the box that contained the sex toy. He took it out and realized he picked the right color and body for you. As he read the directions he plugged it to charge and went to do some light reading verire coming back. Seeing the full bars on the side of the torso toy, he grabbed his headset and plugged everything in and made sure the section was secured.

You have connected toy 1251819, your system will now function off of movements from the toy and vr audio. Please speak select the place you wish to be in

After reading namjoon said “library” soon after, you showed up in the same outfit as he picked, sitting in the chair.

“Oh hi namjoon! What are you doing here?” You asked, smiling and putting the book down?

“Well I’m light studying for our test, mind if I join you?* he tells, as the vr moves his view next to you. While he looks around in his vr set, he notices your in a secluded area. As his hands move around the half thigh it registers and you blush slight.

"Sorry” he apologized, looking you up and down. As you told him it was okay, the screen of consent popped up and he knew it was okay to touch you. In that moment, he got on his knees again this time with a body like toy underneath. He instructed you to strip and as he watched you take off your clothes he rubbed his length in his bare hands.

“Good girl now gets on your back for me on the table,” he praised, watching you as your legs reminded closed. Opening them on the toy, you followed. He rubbed his hands around your thigh and rubbed around your lips till he found your clit and gently rubbed you in circles as you began moaning for him.

“You want me to stop?” He smirked, nodding no he stopped.

“Then tell me what you want” he adds, rubbing and teasing the area slowly. After explaining that you want him badly and would do anything, he removed his hand and rubbed his tip around your entrance.

“Please, please namjoon. I want it badly. You felt so good the last time” you told whining softly.

“Oh, you liked that?” He smirked chuckling softly under his breath. Nodding, he lubed you up hearing you moan to his touched, and soon began softly thrusting into you. Griping your shoulder softly, he stuped down your breast. As he began sucking on them soft, he moved in deeper feeling the toy clench on him. Surprised he jerked forward and went faster. It really felt similar to phaycal and actual human body. He continued thrusting, leaning over the you and the sting harder as grunts and your moaning filled his ear.

“S-so big namjoon, it feels-” you interrupted with a moan and he groaned feeling the toys warmness and the wetness of the amount of lube in you.

“Mm keep talking baby, tell me how good it feels!” He demanded, groaning and curing as he went harder. After a few words, his body started going faster as it started to feel too good on him. He told you to just moan and take him as he began chasing his high, which was beyond what he knew. As you moaned his name and reacted to his length and speed, namjoons grunts turned into soft whines and moans as he enjoyed himself with you.

“Oh you feel so good baby” he breathed out heavily. “Ah don’t stop cumming for me” he added, as the system didn’t stop cumming on him causing namjoon to thrust harder as the machine started releasing water already put in the toy on him. Feeling even more organic, he rubbed your clit getting you to choke on your moan as he went harder. Groaning deep and now at an animalistic speed the bed started speaking and his body kept going as he became more vocal with the feeling.

“OH GOD IN CUMMING!” he announced yelling, cumming so hard he started feeling sick and breathing so deep it made the feeling even more unbearable. Coming once more, he fell on top of the toy and laid there till he was able to come down from his high and plug his stuff back up. Looking he saw that not only did his toy break, but his computer was also malfunction with errors on the screen.

With not a lot of energy, he closed his computer and sat the now broken toy beside him as he breathed heavily. Not to mentioned the multiple knocks at his door, he assumed where from one of his neighbors.

“Just his luck” he whispered as he softly passed out sleep.

[colossal-fallout]

Request from @whydoilooklikeawetdog; Forgive me for what I am about to request but soft mommy kink s4 mikasa with male bodied reader. I have issues anyways hope u have fun with it bestie

Coming right up my darling <3

Embrace M!Bodied Reader X Mikasa

Warnings: NSFW. 18+ Only. Mommy Kink.

"Tough day?" Mikasa's lips part with concern as you flop down onto your bed, arm covering your eyes.

She may know you better than anyone else, but it didn't take a familiar eye to notice your slumped, energy lacking posture and frown that tugged the corners of your mouth as you'd entered your shared bedroom.

"Just one of those days." You mutter in reply. You didn't really have the energy reserves to talk about it. Not only that, but you much prefer not to burden anyone with your problems. Not that Mikasa see's it that way, of course.

Her soft orbs take in your form on the bed - chest rising and falling at the relaxed relief of finally being on your mattress evident in how you allow yourself to sink into it as deeply as it would take you.

You flinch in surprise and remove your arm as you feel her plop herself above you, one arm on each side of your chest - her eyes heavy and the residual dusting of a slight smirk ghosting her face.

"Well, you don't have to talk about it, if you don't want. But let me take care of you..."

You sit up slightly, at first you're confused as to what she means until her hand softly brushes up against your crotch, the haze of lust clouding her usually clear blue eyes.

"Hey, it's okay." You sigh, not wanting her to think that you were merely hinting for her to see to your needs.

"I want to." Her voice is low as she straddles you, throwing her leg over your hip before leaning down and trailing her beautiful lips down your neck, her fingers already fumbling at your belt buckle.

You hands instantly snap to her ass as if on auto-piolet. Like your body just suddenly had a mind of it's own, you push her down and grind her against your hardening junk, stirring awake like some beast about to awaken from a long slumber and ready to hunt.

"I think you're already starting to feel a little better, baby..." She groans into your neck as her clit is stimulated from the friction, her hips now moving on their own accord.

"Yeah... me too." You reply, gasping as her hands finally free your cock, the fresh air hitting it reminding you of just how long it had been since you allowed yourself to just lay back and take some well deserved pampering.

Her delicate hand wraps around your head, slowly tugging at it while her teeth pulls at the skin on your shoulder through the cloth of your shirt, her own hunger for you becoming more evident as her breathing rate increases, her slick sticking to the cloth of her panties.

Your eager fingers move around to her front, tugging at her trousers in haste; wanting nothing more than to see her beautiful pussy on display for you. As soon as you catch a glimpse of her small pink lips as she shimmies out of her restraints, you sigh and lick your lips, more than ready to feel her insides.

You go to slide your fingers into her arousal when she grabs your wrist and pushes your hand back.

"No. Let mommy take care of you." She hums, her soft slit rubbing itself up and down your length.

You lie back and enjoy the view - the feeling of her heat rolling off her and encasing you was all too welcoming as her cheeks begin to flush pink, enjoying the feelings your hard muscle was giving her as she rubbed herself up and down you.

"You feel so good..." She gasps, her fingertips sinking into your chest as her pace slowly begins to quicken.

"I'm not even in you, yet." You smirk.

"I know. You're just too good..." Her eyes begin to plead as she gets more fired up, her soft black strands spilling over her face as her head begins to tip back.

"Sit on me." You groan, wanting nothing more than so slide into the wetness you see getting thicker and spreading further around her and you.

"Sit on me, what?"

"Please..." Your grip tightens on her peachy ass.

"No..."

"Sit on me, mommy..."

She pushes herself down, your swollen bell squashing into her tight little hole with a blazing glory.

As your dick pushes its way inside, you feel every warm ridge dragging down your flesh. The tight embrace around you is indescribable - you watch her little cunt stretch around your length, yawning at your girth.

Mikasa rolls her hips opening her legs and placing her feet flat on the sheets; giving you the best front row view of her quivering pink bloom. You can't ignore how soft her skin is under your hands as she slowly rocks herself back and forth, her thighs being squeezed by your hungry palms. Each slow thrust of her pelvis shows you the little bump imprint of your dick inside of her as her face goes from a soft pink into a deep red hue.

"Ah~ Is that good, baby?" She whines.

You nod, not wanting to tear your gaze from her splayed pussy with your dick print prodding from within her with every slow roll.

"I'll always take care of you, sweetie." Her vocals are soft yet desperate, her gaze warm and her grip on you trembling, as her body is crashed with intense sensations. "You just need some love... ah!"

The scent of her sex crawls up you, the sound of her insides swallowing you is evident enough while you feel her warm liquids begin to ooze down onto your balls behind her.

You thrust up your hips, yearning for more of her as the deep recesses of her core pull and squeeze you - needing to feel as much of you as possible.

Your name leaves her lips in breathy pants, your tip grazing her cervix as she begins to now bounce, taking your breath away.

"M-mikasa..." You stammer as she moves up and down. "Fuck..."

"Ah~ yes! Baby..." She squeaks, her pace quickening. "You're ruining mommy... ah... yes! I'm so close..."

You grab her and roll over; feral and hysteric as you push her legs up behind her head, dipping yourself into her finger-trap like cunt as it pulls you in deeper and tighter, her silent scream confirming her approval of your position change.

"I'm c-cuming, ah!"

Her toes curl and thighs tense in your hands as she juices you dry, her orgasm summoning your own as you release your thick cream deep inside of her centre - her hums of satisfaction vibrating her chest as you grimace throughout your ecstasy.

"Mmm good boy..." She sighs as you flop down - her tight cunt having squeezed every last drop out from you. "I told you I'd take care of you."

[cow-smells]

Jealousy Games [Part 2] ( Demetri x reader )

Request: Hi can u do prompt #3 from ur prompt list with demetri ? (anon)

Prompt: 3.  “You’re n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?”

A/N: fully intended this to be shameless smut, but alas, the plot took over. smut will be in the next part ;)

Words: 1536

Warnings: nothing really, suggestive themes at most.

Part 1

Summary: A storm forces the reader to stay at Demetri's; unfortunately, he's not the only one after her company.

Read this on AO3

    “Thanks for letting me stay for dinner,” you gracefully thank Demetri's mom. You had gotten to know her once you started coming over to Demetri's a couple of months ago to “study” and it was clear she liked you, always inviting you to stay for dinner and urging you to come visit more often. “I should be getting home.”

    “In this weather?” she peered out the dining room window; it had begun to hail. It had begun raining earlier that day but you couldn't be bothered by it, much too busy with Demetri to even consider the weather outside or how you were to navigate home in it. “Certainly not. Call your mother, tell her you're staying here for the night. She'll understand, no parent would want their child driving on that ice. You can stay in Demetri's room and Demetri can take the couch.”

You gave Demetri a passing look so quick it almost didn't happen; you didn't want to show his mom just how eager you were to stay. “Okay,” you agreed. “Yeah, I'll go call her real quick.”

You took to the privacy of Demetri's room to notify your mum about your plans, to which she agreed, not willing to let you risk the dangerous ride home.

    “So?” Demetri asks as her enters his room a few minutes after you did, shutting the door behind himself. You grinned, pleased.

    “All clear.” you wrap your arms around Demetri's neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. You shiver in to him, enjoying the way his hands glide down to the small of your back, holding you close. After a minute he pulls away, clearing his throat.

    “This is... really great, but I actually came to fetch you. My mom wondered if we want to see a movie all together, and... You know my mom. It's not much of a question.”

You grinned cheekily, assuming this was her way of keeping tabs on you both. “Sure,” you agreed. “I'd love that.”

    It's nearly an hour in to the movie when Hawk starts blowing up your phone. The living room's lights were off, supposed to immerse you further in to the movie you were watching, but inevitably emphasizing the brightness of your phone screen to an unignorable point.

You picked up your phone when it began to ring. Seeing it was just Hawk, you silenced the call and put your phone back down on the coffee table, assuming that would be it. You didn't notice Demetri's eyes darting to your phone when you had picked it up before, you leaning a little further in to him as you leaned your back back on to the sofa.

It was two minutes later that your phone lit up again with Hawk's name, your ringtone blaring. “Sorry,” you apologized to no one in particular, silencing the call one more, this time putting your phone on mute and leaving it by your side so you could monitor it quicker.

Demetri tensed by your side, agitation creeping up in him. He knew you were friendly with the Cobra Kai's, but he didn't know to what extent your friendship with Eli went. He bit his plump bottom lip, trying and failing not to think about what might be going on between you two. Eli already had everything Demetri wanted; friends, confidence, courage. He didn't know what he'd do if he'd get you too.

Your phone keeps lighting up until the movie is finished, texts from your friends coloring the screen.

    (20:45) Hawk👊: Where the fuck are you? Pick up.

   (20:52) Hawk👊: We're all going to Aisha's to hang until the storm's over.

                              Send me your location, I'll come pick you up.

    (21:07) Aisha💕: Whats up? Hawk said you aren't answering him.

                                Come overrrrrrr!

    (21:15) Hawk👊: Y/N!

    (21:23) Tory: Wya?

   (21:35) Aisha💕: For the love of God, please answer Hawk

                            He's driving us all mad

   (22:01) Hawk👊 : I'm coming over

The final text came as credits started rolling, much to your relief. You took your phone in your hands to answer when Demetri's mom rose, stretching her arms up high with a yawn. “Well, I'm calling it a night. I expect you two to do the same soon, yes?” You both agreed – and with that, She left.

You typed a reply.

   To: Hawk 👊

   (22:03)     You're drunk. Don't come over. I'll talk to you Monday :)

Demetri looked away, trying to decide what he was to do. He couldn't help overseeing your texts, you were right beside him after all; and if he was to be completely honest, his insecurity was rising beyond levels he was comfortable with. It was one thing swaying you away from your fantasies about Sensei Lawrence; that was schoolgirl wishful thinking, at best. But Hawk? Hawk was readily available, practically in your hands already.

And you – you were going to “talk to him on Monday”. What about? Demetri's anxiety pestered him. Would you rather be with Hawk right now, only with him because you were stuck there?

    As if to solidify the thought, Hawk called you once more right after he read your text – and this time, you answered.

    “Hey.” Demetri grew restless in his seat, seeing you smile to yourself as you heard the other boys voice. “No, no, no... No, I'm serious!” despite your words, you chuckled. Demetri felt sick. “You're obviously drunk. I can hear it in your voice! Don't worry about me. Just stay at Aisha's. Promise?” you cooed at Hawk through the phone, as though he were a child. “Okay. Yeah. I'll text you tomorrow. Give Aisha a kiss from me.” You roared laughing at something Hawk said. Demetri rose, not finding the comfort to be able to stay still any longer. “Have fun... Bye.” with that, you hung up the call, a smile still gracing your features.

    “You guys are really close, huh?” Demetri asked, halting his pacing.

    “Um, I wouldn't say close. Friends, I guess.”

    “You -” Demetri stopped himself, reconsidering his words. “He obviously wants you.”

    “Um -” you began, disbelief on your face. “I – don't think so. Besides, what's that even matter? I'm here with you.”

With a grin, you reach out to pull Demetri to you, looking up at him. His brow was still furrowed with concern; you wanted to kiss it all away. How could he still not tell how you felt about him, only him?

    “Is this even where you want to be?”

Your smile widens before you plant a gentle kiss on Demetri's hipbone. “No where else.”

With that, you rise to stand too. “So, are you gonna offer me pajamas or do you expect me to sleep in a skirt?”

Demetri's eyes widened, at what thought exactly you weren't sure. “Uhh - Of course. You can choose out anything you want from my closet, I'll wait here. Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

    “Okay,” you agree cheerfully and turn on your heel to his room, amused by the privacy Demetri was granting you so gentlemanly-like, as though he hadn't experienced much more of you just hours prior.

You closed the door after yourself, leaving you all alone in Demetri's room for the very first time. You trailed a finger along his desk until you reached his closet, ready to dig through until you'd find his comfiest-looking hoodie. But then, seeing one of your favorite t-shirts of his, a different idea came to mind.

Rummaging through piles of neatly folded clothes to get it, your hand scratched itself on something when you retracted it, shirt in hand.

Curiosity spiked, you burrowed through the piles to find a golden line of condoms hidden.

    It would seem as though Demetri remembered what he was hiding too, as a sudden knock on the door startled you, prompting you to hide the condoms where you found them.

    “Y/n?” Demetri's voice called from the other side of the door, loud enough for you to hear but hushed enough to not wake his mom up. “Are you – um – finding everything alright?”

You giggled to yourself, the nervous undertone to Demetri's words obvious; he wanted to know if you found what you had without asking directly.

    “Yeah,” you gleefully replied. “Give me a minute.”

Quickly stripping off all of your clothes, you toss on a green shirt adorned with a large pai sign splayed on its front. The hem of the shirt reached the middle of your thighs, with Demetri being so much taller than you. You took a deep breath, stepping to stand in front of the bed before calling, “You can come in now.”

Tentatively, Demetri opened the door. His eyes couldn't help but rake over your body, from your bare legs all the way up to his t-shirt. He swallowed hard, trying to burn the image of you in to his mind.

He suddenly noticed the pile of clothes you left on the floor; notedly, the pair of panties peeking beneath your discarded skirt.

    “You’re n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?” Demetri asked, his big blue-green eyes widening in awe.

    You smile michevously. “No.”

---

Tag list: @lllyyysss02  @deadpvet lmk if you want on :)

[damnlance]

21 please

Klance prompt #21

21. “Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Summary: Keith shows Lance his bruises and tells him where and when he got them.

-

It’s been eight days since the mission with The Blade.

The failed mission.

Keith can’t stop thinking about it. It's deep in his head. Flashes behind his eyes every time he closes them. It’s all over his body. Literally.

Dark purple and black bruises decorate his arms and legs and torso. Cuts and scrapes on his face. He deserves it, though. It’s his fault the mission went so badly. He swore he had everything under control. He said all the right things that he rehearsed over and over before landing on that freezing cold, yet weirdly humid, planet. He was calm and straightforward, but not demanding in any way. Or.. at least he thinks he wasn’t..

He still doesn’t know when everything went wrong. They were there to make peace with this planet, called Nagara, and offer them all the food, water, and supplies they needed to rebuild their planet after all the destruction and damage from the war 3 years ago. It was Keith’s job as the frontman and spokesperson to provide the aliens of the planet with a state of peace and safety since the war was over now.

But.. somewhere along the lines, Keith said the wrong thing. Or he did the wrong thing? Or he.. said and did the wrong thing at the same time and it made the Nagarians angry? He doesn’t know and he won’t know. His ears are blank to his own voice and words when he tries to replay the moments, seconds, before everything went wrong.

It doesn’t matter. He will never forget the way his mother looked at him after everything.

Her face was filled with pure rage. A look Keith has only ever seen if she was fighting the enemy. Never looking at him. And Kolivan? Oh, don’t even get him started on Kolivan.

Because what happened was so bad, Kolivan put Keith on a temporary suspension. Meaning he would sit out of all things ‘providing humanitarian relief to other planets’ and so on. That meant no meetings, debriefings, or socialization of any kind involving their mission to restore peace, and he would have to watch a four hour long video on what and what not to do during peace negotiations on otherworldly planets.

He was on complete lockdown and it was fucking pathetic.

Not only did he not bother to watch that stupid, long video. Instead, he kept himself locked in his room on the giant galra ship, not interacting with a single galran soul. Including his mother and Kolivan. He couldn't handle the scalding glares or the whispering in the hallways whenever he left to try to get some type of food in him. It was too much. And it’s what everyone was expecting of him. But not as Keith himself. As a mixed breed; a half galra, half human.

After six days of being temporarily suspended, Keith couldn’t handle anything anymore. It was too much and he was tired of literally everything, so he packed up all the shit he could gather, grabbed his trusty space wolf, and left in his galra cruiser without notifying anyone.

Now, here he is, a day out. The ride down to earth is.. pretty uncomfortable to say the least. His cruiser isn’t as big as it looks and with Kosmo tagging along and his giant duffle bag, it’s a little cramped. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s almost to his destination, and he can’t wait to land. Because yeah okay, he’s suspended temporarily, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get away for some quality Keith time. A little vacation never hurt anyone. And he knows just who he wants to spend his free time with.

knock knock knock!

Lance jerks awake. The first thing his tired eyes land on is the ceiling. It’s dimly lit and as his pupils unblur from the sleep still in them, he can hear the static of the tv that’s still on from some boring action movie he decided to watch. The once fresh bowl of popcorn on the coffee table has run cold long ago and the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the roof from the outside can be heard as well.

Lance sits up slowly and stretches his arms above his head, a yawn slipping its way out of his mouth as he tries to register reality around him. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and when he does, he remembers that it was a knock that woke him in the first place. He carefully stands, slipping his bare feet into the slippers on the floor just next to the navy blue colored couch, and walks over to the front door, hugging himself.

As soon as he opens the door, the pouring rain is louder. And Keith is standing there. Soaking wet with a big duffel bag in one hand and a leash that’s connected to the collar on Kosmo’s neck in the other hand.

“Keith!?” Lance is ten times more awake now as he quickly moves aside to let Keith and Kosmo in. “Oh, shit man, you’re soaking wet! Let me go grab some towels!”

“Thanks,” is the first word out of Keith’s mouth. It’s shy and embarrassed but Lance doesn’t pay any mind to it as he rummages through the towel closet next to the hallway bathroom. He comes back and wraps a big towel around Keith’s shoulders, taking the duffle bag from his hand and setting it next to the smaller couch by the bay window in the living room. Lance takes the other towel, kneeling down to begin drying off Kosmo. Kosmo licks his face as he does it and it makes Lance smile, tossing and turning his head away from the alien wolf’s freakishly long tongue. Once he’s finished, Lance stands and finds Keith on the couch, discarding his wet clothes. He walks over and sits on the coffee table directly in front of him.

“Keith?” He asks, the tone in his voice full of wonder and confusion, but also worry.

“I’m fine,” Keith answers, a sigh leaving his lips. He looks at Lance through his long, wet bangs and sends him a weak but reassuring smirk. “I decided it was time for a.. a small break.”

Lance doesn’t look convinced, sitting there twiddling his thumbs. “How small?”

Keith shrugs, losing their eye contact. “Couple weeks, tops.”

“Weeks sound like a long time to be away..” Lance bites his lower lip, his bed head, or couch head in this situation, making Keith want to reach over and pat his hair down. “I feel like there’s something else I’m missing here.”

A sigh. “Later, Lance, okay? I’m tired and wet and cold, and I just want to shower and lay down, if that’s alright?” He finally looks back over to those dark blue eyes in the dark living room and then, a small nod and a smile.

“Sure,” Lance says, this time with more confidence, but his eyes scan over the scrapes and scratches on Keith’s face. “Let me help you out with your suit.”

They both stand and Keith turns around for Lance to unzip it from the back. He moves his long wet hair over his right shoulder and puts his head down. The literal second that Lance grabs that zipper, Keith remembers how his body looks. And if Lance thinks his face is bad, just wait til he sees his body. Keith jerks away and it startles Lance as he almost trips over the coffee table.

“Keith!? What the he-!?”

“I-I just remembered!” Keith looks everywhere but Lance’s eyes now. “I smell horrible underneath this suit a-and I really don’t want you to smell me, so I’ll just head to the bathroom now!”

“What??” Lance scoffs. “A-are you sure?? I don’t mind a little stink, Keith, I’ve smelled you right after a fight with the-!”

“I’m sure.” Keith nods. He sends a nervous smile towards Lance and quickly leans forward to plant a quick kiss to his cheek. He grabs his duffel bag and b lines it for the guest room, closing the door behind him. Lance watches his every move, then turns back to look at Kosmo who is looking right at him.

“What was that about??” He asks the wolf. Kosmo tilts his head, ears popping up. Lance sighs and begins his walk towards his kitchen. “Come on, boy. You must be hungry.”

Keith wipes the foggy mirror with his hand, exhaling a breath of relief from the heavenly shower he just took. He takes the smaller towel from around his neck and dries his hair, ruffling it up in the process. His eyes scan his tired face and exhausted body. The bruises that decorate his pale skin are of dark purples and blues and blacks. They’re eight days old, but they still hurt like crazy. Keith eyes the one right below his left pec. It’s purple with yellow blotches and he presses down on it just to see and the pain that zips down his spine is more than enough warning to tell him to stop. A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he pushes his hair back and ties it up in a messy bun.

knock knock! “Keith? You okay?”

Keith nearly jumps at Lance’s voice. “U-uh, yeah! I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” The concern in Lance’s voice eases. “No rush, though.”

Keith sighs again. He has to tell Lance. Has to show him. Sure, he’ll freak out and never want him to leave again but.. if he gets it over with, there won’t be any more surprises if Lance wants to touch him again.

A soft smile graces Keith’s lips as he thinks about the man just on the other side of the door. They’ve been through a lot. Individually. Together. And even though it’s only been three years, they still suffer through the after effects of the war. They all do.

Lance gets nightmares. About a lot of things. He says his nightmares feel so real, and sometimes it’s hard to decipher if his nightmares really happened or not. It scares him and has left him very vulnerable in more situations than he likes to admit. There’s a lot more than just the nightmares; flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping at loud noises, never leaving his home because he feels like everywhere he turns, some species-less threat is gonna come out and attack him, Allura’s sacrifice. Yeah. It’s a pretty long list. But with therapy, his family and friends’ support, and Keith, he’s come a very long way to recovery.

Keith on the other hand got most of the paranoia. Even though he still works in space with his galran colleagues, he still can’t help but get that itch underneath his skin that someday, someone will turn on him and try to attack him. It could happen at any time. Any day or night. Anywhere. Because of this fear, he doesn’t get much sleep, and is very overprotective of his friends. Of his mother. Even his space wolf. His knife has become like a permanent extension to his hand, he never goes anywhere without it. Keeps it underneath his pillow, in his back pocket, in his boot, anywhere that’s easy enough to reach so he can defend himself if need be. He’s even accidentally pulled it on all of his friends at least once. Even on Lance, who barely even flinched at the time. It’s safe to say that no one can ever sneak up on him.

And somehow, through all their damage, Keith and Lance still found each other. It wasn’t right away. And it wasn’t planned, either. It’s just.. happened. They barely talked after the war ended, and unpurposely drifted apart. Keith busied himself in his work with The Blade, and Lance distanced himself away from everyone.

But one year ago, around Christmas, Keith came back to spend the holiday with Shiro and Curtis. Little did he know, they were gone for the holidays, so Keith, and Krolia, decided to stay with Lance and his huge family. Lance was so happy to see him, he couldn’t dare to say no. ‘The more the merrier,’ his mother Rosa said. So, while Keith and Lance spent the time shopping together and baking cookies and wrapping gifts and getting drunk on eggnog, Krolia learned a lot of the Christmas Earth traditions and Cuban recipes from Rosa and even got a few surprise presents from Lance’s niece and nephew. She cried because she didn’t know what else to do. Happiness always makes Krolia cry. Keith bought Lance a red Paladin mug with his face on it that he saw at some flea market on one of their stops on some random planet, and Lance bought Keith a giant blanket to keep him warm while he was away in space. The emotions were flying, the eggnog was settling and long story short, they ended up sleeping together, with every ounce of consent they could muster. It’s still one of the greatest nights of Keith’s life.

They’ve been together since then, five months, and even though they don’t have a label on what they are, Keith is happy this way. He likes being label-less with Lance. He likes having a home to come back to, with a warm kitchen, a warm bed, and a warm body. He likes the open space and how much Kosmo and Kaltenecker get along. He likes how much Kosmo adores Lance and his homemade space wolf food, just for him. He likes that Lance buys stuff for him to have when he’s away so he has new things to come back to. New slippers. A new comfy robe. New matching pajamas. A new toothbrush. Keith likes Lance. And everything that they are in the moments they’re together. And although he knows Lance is still grieving over Allura and that it could take a couple more years until he’s ready for a real relationship, Keith would take this over anything. Any day.

As he emerges from the bathroom, he doesn’t bother putting on all of his clothes, just his red paladin boxer briefs. He and Lance have seen each other naked plenty of times, and he’s very comfortable in his skin around Lance. Lance has that effect on him. So when he walks out in just his boxer briefs and a white cotton towel around his neck, he’s got absolutely nothing to hide. Except, maybe not giving Lance a heart attack tonight. Keith hides behind the wall just before the entryway to the living room and curses himself for what he’s about to do.

“H-hey.. Lance?”

“Yeah?” Lance says, something like food in his mouth. “Where are you, man?”

“I’m…” Keith sighs. “Can you just.. cl-close your eyes for a sec.. please?”

“Uh,” Lance shrugs, Keith can hear from his clothes rumpling up. “Sure.”

Keith peeks around the corner and sees that Lance’s eyes are sealed shut. Kosmo is on the floor next to him, sound asleep. His tongue is hanging out just the slightest bit as snores leave his mouth. Keith smiles at the sight and looks back to Lance. He’s so beautiful. This guy has done some much for him and more. Before the war, during, and now after. He’s the greatest guy that Keith could’ve asked for.. greater than that. With that in mind, Keith steps out from behind the wall and walks over to Lance before his brain tells him that this is all a bad idea. The living room is still dim, only illuminated by the television and the lamp next to the couch Lance is sitting on, but it’ll be more than enough light to see Keith’s battered body.

Once Keith is in front of Lance, he closes his own eyes, fists clenched down by his sides.

“Okay.. now on the count of three, you can open your eyes.. but don’t freak out. Got it?”

Lance lets out a small snort. “Yes, Keef, I got it.”

Keith rolls closed eyes and sticks his nails into the palms of his sweaty hands. “Alright.. one.. two.. three..”

Lance’s eyes open. The breath that gets caught in his throat is enough to send Keith’s gut dropping out of his ass and into the floor.

“Holy shit!” Lance is up, eyes roaming Keith’s entire body. “W-what the fu-!?”

Keith opens his eyes and is face to face with Lance. They’re almost the same height, Keith’s got him by a few inches easily, and the look on Lance’s face is enough to send Keith into cardiac arrest.

“I-I’m fine, Lance, really-”

“No, you’re not!” Lance cuts him off, wanting to reach out but too afraid to do so. Keith’s tone, muscular body is a canvas of dark colors and spots of different shapes. No wonder he jumped earlier, Lance could have hurt him even more than he already looks. A shaky breath leaves Lance’s mouth as he meets Keith’s dark eyes. “What happened to you, love?”

Love. The pet name actually sends Keith’s into cardiac arrest, he’s sure of it. But as soon as Lance cups his face with both of his big, warm hands, it’s over for Keith. His eyes begin to water and his throat closes up on him so that he can’t talk. Tears fall down his cheeks as he looks down to the floor between him and Lance. His bottom lip quivers and when Lance tilts his head back up to look at him again, a sob slips its way out of Keith’s mouth.

“Oh, Keith,” Lance coos, bringing Keith into a big, gentle hug. Keith hugs him back, sobbing into his shoulder. “Baby..” Lance whispers.

Keith just continues to sob. He didn’t even know he had been holding back for so long. But here, in Lance’s arms, he can feel everything that’s been bottled up coming out of his throat and from his teary eyes. Lance only continues to hold him, rubbing his soft hands up and down Keith’s pale bruised back.

Keith doesn’t know how long this goes on. How long he cries. How long Lance holds him. But somewhere in the middle of it all, they’ve moved to Lance’s room. Keith sits on Lance’s bed, wiping his red, teary eyes and snotty nose with a tissue. Lance rummages through his bathroom drawer for some numbing ointment that he recently bought for his back and feet from working out on the farm five days a week. When he returns, Keith is done crying. He sits up straight and removes the white towel from around his neck. Lance stands in front of him and kneels between his open legs. He stares at them. At the bruises and scratches and scabbed gashes.

“I..” he starts, clearing his throat from what has to be a lump forming. “I got this.. numbing cream. It’ll help a lot.”

Keith stares down at him as he talks, his voice is so quiet and gentle.

“Can I..?” Lance asks, looking up to meet Keith’s red eyes.

“Yeah.” Keith nods.

Lance uncaps the ointment, squirting a good amount into the palm of his hand. He sets the tube down and rubs his hands together. Then, he gently, gently, places them on Keith’s bruised thighs and begins rubbing the ointment around.

Keith clenches his jaw, hands fisting in the comforter on Lance’s bed. He lets out the air from his nostrils and feels the pain slowly turning into relief. He looks down and watches as Lance works his hands in circular motions, gently rubbing the ointment onto Keith’s injuries.

“..keith…?“ Lance whispers, eyes focused on his hands covered with ointment that’s slowly making his hands numb.

“Yeah..?” Keith answers back, looking at the ceiling of Lance’s room. Those glow in the dark stars are still there.

“How…” Lance clears his throat. “W.. Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Keith sighs. “..blade mission.. gone wrong..”

Something in Lance’s eyes darken. “What? W-when?? How?? W-Where!?”

“Um..” Keith can’t even look at Lance anymore. The worry in his eyes is too much. “A.. Week ago.. on some planet called Nagara. It was.. all my f.. my faul..” The tears are back. Keith blinks them away and sniffs quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. He can feel himself sinking back to that day, to that mission. He remembers it all so clearly.

They landed on Nagara. The planet was really cold. He and The Blade were greeted by a tall figure who looked similar to an earth bear. They were big, round, had dark eyes all around, sharp teeth and a snout. Three rows of antenna grew out of their foreheads as well as horns of all shapes and sizes going down their backs and spines. And giant sharp claws for fingers. They looked vicious. And they made it very clear that they didn’t like the Galra.

Keith made the first move. He spoke in a calm voice and made his intentions clear; he and The Blade were only there to help and provide the planet with anything they needed. They had food, water, clothes, and building supplies ready on their ships and were 100% committed to fixing up this planet and its species from the after effects of the war. But their King, King Arxuan, wouldn’t let them go any further until they explained what they were doing there. So Keith did.

He explained it all. Voltron won. Zarkon dead. Princess Allura saved the universe. Keith is the red and black Paladin. The Blade of Marmora is good. The Blade of Marmora is here to help. But Keith being Keith.. he’s not too good with his words. Everything sounded fine in his head. And when it came out of his mouth? Completely different.

“We are The Blade of Marmora,” Keith started. “We’re here to provide supplies to your helpless planet that has clearly been affected by the war and-”

Record scratch. Yeah, poor choice of words on Keith’s end. But they left his mouth so fast that his brain couldn't keep up. The King and his subjects didn’t like it one bit and before Keith could keep up with his offensive word vomit, the Nagarians drew their weapons and like a firework, everything went up in flames.

Keith didn’t mean to offend anyone.. and he didn’t mean it like that. But the Nagarians didn’t know or care how he meant it. They attacked within seconds of Keith’s poor choice of words and thank god for his team’s fast reflexes, otherwise his head would not be on his shoulders and he wouldn’t be sitting here on Lance’s bed.

Legs criss crossed on Lance’s bed, the strong minty scent of numbing cream filling the room.

His fingers locked with Lance’s as Lance rubs his thumb over Keith’s fingers.

Gently.

Domestically.

Lovingly.

Keith feels warmth bloom in the pit of his stomach as he stares down at Lance who’s sitting on the floor in front of him. Those deep blue eyes staring back so affectionately. Altean markings just barely glowing in Lance's dim room.

Lance swallows and squeezes Keith’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“I am now..” Keith shrugs, looking at the floor. “But these last few days have been hell.. and the guilt I have for almost killing my team has.. been..”

Lance nods, understanding. He comes up off of the floor and sits next to Keith. The second his arm goes up, Keith is there leaning into his side, nuzzling into his neck. His cheeks are wet with tears again and quiet sobs leave his throat.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Lance nods, planting a gentle kiss atop Keith’s head. “We all make mistakes. Some worse than others. but.. what matters now is that you’re here. You’re alive. And safe.”

Keith nods, sniffling as tears and snot run down his face. He’s had everything balled up until this very moment. The guilt. The shame. The way Kolivan and his mother looked at him. The way the other Blade members blamed him. None of that mattered anymore. Because here, in Lance’s heavenly embrace, he was fine. He was gonna be alright.

“You’re safe, love..” Lance reassures him. “I’ve got you.”

And he does. Lance holds Keith tight, holds him close. Lance lets him cry and doesn’t judge him. He’s just.. there for him. And it’s everything Keith needed.

Keith wakes up in Lance’s bed.

Blanket crowding his entire body. His long hair is literally everywhere around his face and neck and shoulders. The golden sun is shining through the blinds of the window, making him squint a tiny bit, and the pain from the bruises on his body are somewhat bearable..

There’s a smell hitting his nostrils that makes his mouth water and stomach grumble in a hunger he didn’t know he had. When he sits up, Kosmo is right there beside him, curled up in a ball, staring at him. Keith smiles at the space wolf and reaches to pet his head.

“Hey there, boy.” He rubs behind Kosmo’s ears, chuckling a little when Kosmo nuzzles into his hand. Suddenly, flashes of last night come flooding back to Keith’s mind and he groans out, covering his face. Sure, crying his eyes out all night long and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are was nice, BUT crying your eyes out all night long and and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are took a lot out of Keith. He’s tired. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. He just wants to spend the rest of his time away from work relaxing with the only person he wants to be with in the entire universe. And Kosmo.

And as if on cue..

“Keith?” Lance’s voice is soft. “You awake, yet?”

Keith looks over to the door and sees Lance popping his head into his own room. When their eyes meet, Keith can feel the undeniable spark between them and it causes his heart to do something funny beneath his rib cage. He smiles a bit shyly and brings his legs up to a criss-cross position, Lance’s puffy space themed blankets bunching up around Keith’s waist.

“Morning..” Keith answers, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

Lance’s eyes never leave his as the Cuban boy finally enters the room, two plates full of food in each of his hands. Keith eyes the food and his stomach grumbles once again. The noise overthrows the silence in the room and Keith has to put his hands over his stomach to silence the sound. It didn’t work.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lance chuckles, setting Keith’s plate into his lap. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re hungry, huh?”

“Shut up..” Keith flushes and looks down at his full plate of food. Organic eggs, two fluffy pancakes, sweet turkey bacon and a buttery biscuit with strawberry jam decorate his plate beautifully. All of his favorite breakfast foods right there in front of him. Made by the man right beside him with a matching plate of food for himself.

“Dig in!” Lance says, his mouth already full of food. Keith doesn’t waste a second and obeys the words from Lance's mouth. They eat in a comfortable silence, Kosmo moving to the ground to collect any scraps they throw his way. After a while, Keith clears his throat and musters up the courage to look at Lance’s beautiful face.

“H-hey, uh.. Lance?” He whispers.

“Yeah?” Lance is staring at him now, blue eyes boring into him again.

Keith can’t breathe and he finds himself having to take a really deep breath before he continues.

“Thank you,” he pushes out of his throat, “for everything. For letting me cry in front of you, and.. for not judging me for it.”

Lance stops chewing and swallows. Keith quickly takes him all in before he gets caught; Lance’s messy brown curls, his gorgeous tan skin all over his bare torso, those cute little freckles all over his body, his Altean marks. Everything about him is so breathtaking and Keith can barely keep his heart at bay.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Lance says, breaking Keith’s thoughts. Their eyes meet again. “I’m here for you no matter what, Keith. You have to know that by now.”

“I-I do,” Keith nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth. He sets his plate onto the bedside table next to him and scoots closer to Lance. As if completely on autopilot, he grabs Lance’s face and forces their eyes to meet once more. He stares deeply into those ocean blue eyes and fights the awkward urge to look away.

“Lance,” he starts, exhaling a breath that smells like eggs, bacon, and syrup, “I love you, so much. Thank you for always comforting me and being my right hand man.. you.. you are the light in my life, and I..”

Tears fill Keith’s eyes and to his surprise, Lance also sports some in his own eyes.

“I know,” Lance whispers, gaze moving from Keith’s eyes, to his lips, and back. “Like I said, you don’t have to thank me. I would do anything for you. Because.. I love you, too.”

The second Lance’s plate is out of the way, the two boys are kissing so fast, the air in their lungs can’t keep up. Lance pulls Keith close by the oversized t-shirt around his torso and clings to him for dear life. Keith does the same and cups Lance’s cheeks. Their kisses are full of passion, desperation, and love. And when they part, Lance is trailing those same kisses down Keith’s jaw, to his neck and his collarbones, kissing every visible bruise he can reach.

“I’m so happy you’re safe, my love,” He says between kisses on Keith’s neck. As he pulls back, Keith is smiling like Lance is his whole world.

“Me, too, Lance,” Keith answers, kissing the corner of Lance’s syrupy mouth, his cheeks and neck flushing red. “Me, too.”

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt)

[froog-water]

howdy y'all, again! 

just quickly before the chapter starts, i wanted to say a HUGE THANK YOU to everyone who reads this! i have received a lot of support for this thing (more than i had hoped) and i am beyond grateful for it!

again, if there are any mistakes in this chapter, just hmu and i will fix it. i am just tired rn :)

also, slight warning for the beginning of the chapter, there are vivid descriptions of blood and gore and death. but nothing really troubling past that ;P

be safe out there my friends and thank you again

Upwards Over the Mountain

(Bloodhound x Reader)

previous; Chapter 2

Winter is in full swing and the entire world is covered in a thick blanket of white snow and eternal cold. For the most part, you had forgotten all about Bloodhound and the stranger circumstance of your meeting. Because there was not much for a bunch of fishermen and farmers to do during the stagnant times of chill, your bar had become a most frequented hotspot for these idle workers meaning you had very little time to yourself. Busy hands kept your mind busy too and soon some, if not most, of that night had been pushed back to the recesses of your consciousness.  It also did not help that they never took you up on your offer of returning to the bar. They retreated back into being merely a story to you, a faint memory of a person long moved on. You could hardly even remember if it had even really happened at all. Oh well, you supposed they had better things to do.

Early morning light was barely seeping in through your bedroom window when you managed to open your eyes. Groggily you yawn and stretch and slowly go to open the curtains. Greeting you was the pleasant sight of a land half-asleep, the sky a brilliant warm pink despite the rest being draped in an unimaginable freeze. Your breath collected as fog on the frozen glass and tentatively you reach out to touch it. It was a lovely morning indeed and it would have stayed that way had you not looked up into the sky.

In the distance, large birds circled. Tiredness shifts to dread as you adjust your eyes to try to get a better look. Those were no ordinary birds, you remark taking note of how large their bodies were and of the swooping patterns of their flight. Those were scavenging birds. And there is only one thing to bring scavengers out during Winter.

You dress quickly, putting on your best and thickest jacket and pants, before grabbing your hunter's knife and bow. Andante was a man of many talents, most of which he passed on to you. One of those talents was his hunting skills. The summer before his knees went, was spent mostly out in the heart of the wild woods. It was an interesting experience, to say the least, and though you were nowhere near what could be considered good, you understood the basics of the hunt and of the weapons you wielded and you knew how to read signs. Signs like scavenger birds circling in the sky. Signs like there was something dying.

Into the snow you run without much of a second thought, your head locked upwards as you follow the shapes of the birds eyeing their next meal. What confused you most about this strange encounter was not the presence of the birds themselves, but the proximity that they were to you and the rest of the town. This was wild country, home of beasts and lands untamed and untouched by man’s iron hand. That much you knew, encounters like this were commonplace if you dared to leave the safety of human comforts. But you were not out in the uncomfortable forest which meant that whatever had caught the bird's attention was either very far from home or of a more concerning matter.

You edge into the outskirts of the white forest, the trees around you nothing more than empty sticks bearing only wind and ice. Overhead, the birds caw and swoop and through the boney fingers of branches, you can see that they are getting lower. You had to move quickly before they did. As you go deeper in, approaching what you assumed to be the border of someone's field, you hear something. Faintly, carried on the morning breeze, was the mewling of an animal. Your pace quickens and quietens as you zone in on the source, painfully aware of how loud the snow was underfoot but pushing on regardless. The relief that you had felt at knowing it was not a person in danger eases some of your mounting anxieties and offers you momentary strength to continue on in pursuit. If given the choice, you would have gladly left whatever animal lay in wait to its own devices, you had no business intruding in on their affairs - your presence would only bring them distress no matter your intentions. But something about this situation told you otherwise and guided your feet to where you would most certainly be needed. On the outskirts of a clearing, you spot something and crouch behind a leafless brush.

There before you, not even 20 meters away, was a fallen elk. You swallow down your gasp and try to focus over the noise of your beating heart, which becomes only louder as you start to take in the entire situation. The animal has toppled over a wired fence of some farmer's land, its hind leg still entangled and bleeding from its restraints, held high above the rest of its body at an uncomfortable angle. From its bloody mouth, it screamed weakly, puffs of dying hot breath escaping with the haunting noise. Your first guess was that this misdirected elk had simply gotten itself stuck in the fence, a most unfortunate event but not entirely implausible, but upon closer inspection at the rest of its heaving body, your guess died on your tongue.

Horrible, long gashes run down the length of the animal's side, pooling blood into the snow around it turning white to red. Its powerful neck was sliced deep in odd places and one of its front legs looked twisted or broken. This creature had not done this kind of destruction to itself - it was attacked. By something. You slowly turn your head around to scan the morning shadows of the forest clearing for any glowing eyes of an animal on the hunt. But there was no predator to be found. There would be none of course, because if there was such a predator here, then why would it not have killed its prey by now? Animals do not find enjoyment in torture and no man, you hoped, would ever do such heinous crimes to such innocent life. For now, at least, it was only you and the elk and the circling, hungry birds.

The elk cries again and you notice how its kicks have become lethargic and stifled by freezing joints and waning energy. It was suffering. Without much debate you ready an arrow in your bow, pulling taut the string with trained proficiency. You whisper to yourself a prayer, hoping that it would only take one arrow to kill the poor thing. You line your aim up, try to cease the shaking in your hands and shoulders, breathing deeply. Your arrow flies prematurely and misses its target, rather than piercing its skull you instead strike it in its neck, right behind its ear. The thing wails, although much softer and with more subtle movements - you must have hit its spine. Seizing the opportunity, you rush forward, ignoring the lurching of your stomach and pulling out your knife. Without a moment's hesitation, you drive it deep into the elk’s heart, right to the hilt of the blade. A little excessive, you deride, but a necessity given your previous inability to finish it quickly.

The thing stops moving. The pained cries fade off into the cold wind. You are left alone with your thoughts and the smell of fresh blood. Beneath your hands the elk lay motionless, its beautiful, soft fur a gentle texture against your trembling form. Andante had made sure that you had killed a few animals before he had honored you with a knife of your own. Still, experience did not dull the sharp sting of shock nor quell the rising weight in your chest. It was suffering, you reminded yourself, lightly dragging your fingers down the side of the animal's large and strong back.

These elk were beautiful creatures, graceful and nimble; they pranced through the wilderness in powerful, delicate strides showcasing the ultimate wonder of the natural world. You had encountered a herd of them once, all the while mesmerized as they strode past your hiding spot without a care in the world. It was quite distressing to see one now crumpled and lifeless. Emptiness sits heavy in your chest and though you know you are not going to throw up, the pressure erupts and you fall to your knees. A red hand clasps the arrow lodged deep in the neck of the animal and sharply pulls it out. You blink hard but cannot stop the tears that threaten to burn your eyes.

It was an animal. It was suffering. You did the right thing.

From somewhere behind you, the softest snow crunches, and your pity party abruptly ends as you draw another arrow and spin around. For a few tense seconds, your fingers quiver around the bow’s string, ready to shoot down if you so dared it. You only hesitate when you finally recognize the figure.

Bloodhound quietly raises both their gloved hands, fingers spread apart in an unarmed, peaceful gesture. You remain poised a moment longer until your eyes start to prick with new tears and you are forced to look away. You drop your arrow and turn back around to the elk, furiously trying to wipe your face with the clean sleeve of your jacket. Now, this was a predicament. What god had you spite so hard to deserve this kind of cruelty? True embarrassment blends with your established disgust and you fear now you may really throw up. Here was a true hunter, a beast born in blood and forged to kill. And here also was you, wallowing in pity. If only you could sink into the floor.

You can hear Bloodhound approach and soon feel their impending presence standing right next to you, taking in the sight of the poor thing on the ground. No one spoke, only the wind dared whisper in the dead world around you. The silence was stretching on for far too long and you knew you had to break it before it became too uncomfortable.

“I’m…” You sniffle hard, trying to force strength into your voice knowing full well that you had very little left to offer. You cough and stand up straight. “I’m not going to do you the dishonor and assume this was your kill.” You say, your voice somehow managing to sustain itself despite your state. Bloodhound does not respond right away, instead, they remain motionless, eyes scanning every detail of the elk and committing it to memory. You shake loose the last of your unstable emotions and grab ahold of your knife again. You move to the elk’s tangled leg and set to work cut free the wires.

“You cry for the animal.” Bloodhound finally speaks, sounding more like an observation rather than a question. With your attention focused on your task, you manage to answer in a more steady and calm attitude.

“Yes.” This was your admission of guilt, not just to Bloodhound but to yourself as well. God, how pathetic you were. “Yes, I cried. I know it is natural. That this is how it is meant to be but,” You hesitate, your lapse in concentration misguiding your knife and almost slicing the tip of our index finger. “This is not a hunt nor a kill. This poor creature was driven away from its home and family and pushed to our borders by some deranged and cruel beast. This is not natural. It was not killed to feed mouths. It was tortured. And it died confused and alone.” The leg snaps free from the wired fence and you wipe your blade clean on the snowy floor, ugly red stains being the only reminder of your deed.

“There is no shame in veeping.” Bloodhound murmurs a brash reassurance and kneels down, tracing their fingers from the elk’s wounds. “Vhat did this?”

“My guess is,” You state taking a step back and allowing Bloodhound to proceed with whatever they were wanting to do with the body, “A few years back, an illegal trading ship hit a bit of trouble just beyond our planet's frontier and had to quickly dump its cargo on the East mountains. Some of that cargo was the creatures we call ‘Shrieks’. They are alien to this ecosystem but even though they are terribly small and their numbers were minimal, they dominated the local wildlife - killing not just for food but for fun. The town’s people tried to cull some of their numbers but,” You explanation stutters off and you hastily take in a sharp breath, the icy air burning your nose and lungs. “Well, they could not get them all. It appears now that they are growing in size again. And in courage.”

Bloodhound does not respond, their attention wholly directed at the study of the animal. You wait a moment longer, the adrenaline of the moment finally ebbing off and allowing the freezing cold to seep into your bones. You shiver and wrap your arms around your body. Bloodhound stands, all the while their attention remains downward.

“You can leave it there.” You say, passing one more glance over the body before averting your gaze elsewhere. “If you want nothing from it, leave it for the birds. They could use the meal.” As if aware of their mention, the still-waiting scavengers call loudly from the tree-top. A raven answers with a caw and you look around to find many black birds scattered around the clearing. The birds do seem to follow their raven stranger everywhere they went. The wind howled through the desolate forest and you grimace upon thinking of returning to your empty house with such a shallow heart. The smell of blood lingers cruelly to your clothes, reminding you of what you had just witnessed. You had to think of something to keep your mind off it, thinking of your act for people, play your part until you finally were normal again. But your bar would not be open until at least noon and there was no one else who would be willing to distract you.

“Did you track it all the way here?” Your voice breaks the silence, your mind subconsciously switching to your more charming persona. They do not answer immediately.

“I sensed distress and followed its blood.” They weren’t giving you much to work off of and you shuffle in place.

“Then I suppose you will need a ride back?” This garners their attention and they turn to face you, the nerve of being under their masked gaze still sending jolts up and down your spine.

“I cannot accept your generosity again.” Bloodhound tries to talk you down but you scoff and lift a hand to silence them.

“Please, I won't be needed until lunch and I really don't mind.” Your tone successfully managed to hide that you had a third reason to be so insistent - you just hoped that they could not see the desperation in your face. They could. They take a moment to consider your offer, whatever expression lay under their mask you would never know. The raven to their left caws and they turn to look at it. It takes off after a final noise and Bloodhound lowers their head back to you - some secret understanding passing between bird and hunter.

“Then,” Bloodhound motions for you to lead the way, “By all means.” Though strained and almost painful, your first smile of the day pulls at your lips and you turn around to walk back to your house.

~

Bloodhound, as bizarre and strange as they were, never afforded you the opportunity to truly draw a defined picture of their personality. Wrapped so totally in mystery and gear, your perception of them was created on a flimsy base of shadows - beyond what they portrayed on T.V, you knew nothing of. But in the frozen forest of that Winter’s morning, something changed and you felt your world flip upside down onto its head.

Bloodhound was a lot more talkative on the way to their cabin than they had been the first time. Or any time really that you had interacted with them. It had started with you asking them the simple question of how they managed to track the injured elk and although their initial answer remained vague, a tangent soon manifested and from there the spiral began. To your utter surprise, and mild enjoyment, they proved themselves to be a great storyteller and had many wonderful and whimsical tales about their Gods and hunts that had made the drive over to their place seem almost too short.

“Most people stop me at this point.” Bloodhound commented, drawing a snicker from you as your eyes were glued to the ice-capped road ahead.

“Well, most people are not here. And I am very much enjoying myself. I love stories.” You could not see it, but your response brought a cracked smile to Bloodhound's hidden face.

By the time you had reached their cabin, they had entranced you in a tale about wolves and the true essence of the hunt. Though you thought your morning could not get any more surprising, Bloodhound steps out of your truck and extends an offer to share warm drinks with them inside. In the heart of Winter, you could not resist the temptation.

The interior of their cabin was much as you expected - totally unpredictable. It was like a bear and a machine had a fight, a complete subversion of everything you had come to know as normal. On the floor was a multitude of animal rugs, the couches too were draped with the furs of Bloodhound’s past, presumed, victories. Yet despite the clear aesthetic for ruggedness, a definite sense of modern order was showing through. The fireplace was quaint in its design but unmistakable retro. The furniture too, the chairs and tables, shelves and windows, were all of a very contemporary era. A perfect combination of the comforts of the past and the conveniences of the present. But all and all, the only word that came to your head when you first stepped in through their front door was - cozy.

Bloodhound leads you through their small cabin, past the living room, and into the small kitchen. They motion for you to take a seat at the wooden table in the center of the room and you marvel at the smells and sights around you. Hanging from strings draped across the walls were various herbs and spices and on the counter in bowls were fresh fruit and vegetables. They must have visited the town if this was their food supply and you feel a twinge of apprehension pluck at your light mood. You brush it off as Bloodhound asks if you would prefer tea or coffee.

“I find myself the one in honor of sharing breakfast with you this morning. Fair varning must be made, however,” Bloodhound extends a steaming cup towards you, “I have been told I am not the most accomplished of hosts.” You smile gratefully and take the cup into your shivering hands. The drink was shockingly and terribly bitter and you barely manage to hold back your gag at the first sip. Bloodhound snickers at your reaction and produces a tub of honey for you to add to your drink. “And that my tastes are mostly unagreeable.”

“Oh please,” You wheeze weakly after drowning your taste buds in the soothing honey, “This is nothing. Besides, I assume that, with your choice of isolation, you don’t particularly want to be anyone's host.” Bloodhound hums at your comment, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with it. They pull up to the opposite chair and take a seat and you notice how their drink has a straw in it.

“I am not entirely opposed to indulging certain people. And even fewer dare to give my delights a try. Therefore I rather keep them to myself. I do, however, give special heed to those vho show interest in my stories.” This draws a smirk from your lips as you bring the hot liquid up to your mouth for another sip. Content silence passes through the room and you focus intently on the warmth now spreading through your hands and to the rest of your body. “I did not think that anyone vould be out on such a morning like this.” Bloodhound admits, causing you to slowly look at them and lower your cup.

“Most are too old or too busy to take time out of their day to notice these things, or to even care. And I do not do well in the cold. Today was a special exception.” At the mention of the temperature outside you quickly raise your cup to your mouth and down another gulp. When you open your eyes again, you finally notice the bird in the room who had before blended so seamlessly in with the other oddities of the kitchen. Sat on a perch made of carved wood to the left of Bloodhound was their signature raven. It tilts its head at your attention, letting out a meek calling before eyeing you up and down. Bloodhound must really like their raven friend if they were kind enough to invite them inside. The sight alone was enough to bring a bemused grin to your chapped lips and Bloodhound watched it all happen in mild fascination.

“Do you often listen to birds?” They ask, breaking you out of an almost trance and extending to their raven a piece of freshly sliced apple.

“It is not so strange.” You breathe a laugh, “It was what led me to finding you in the rain that first evening.” Bloodhound turns their disk-like lenses towards your face and wordlessly implores you to continue. Despite the warmth now residing in your bones, you still shiver under their daunting gaze. “Your friend I mean,” You motion to the raven who has also turned to look at you with its beady, brown eyes as if aware that it was the topic of conversation, “Its cries were all I could hear. Which is saying something, considering it was storming pretty hard.”

“I do not think it skrýtinn.” Bloodhound replies without missing a beat, their voice mellow and their words an alluring symphony of strange syllables, a true joy to listen to. “Just an uncommon trait in most people. And his name is Artur.” You pass the bird a look and slightly tip your head in acknowledgment of his name. He squawks and fluffs his chest feathers, clearly enjoying being the center of attention. Bloodhound smiles at the bird. “Ravens are the messengers of the Allfather. They guide and aid me on my hunts. I do not think it skrýtinn to listen to them. Only that someone else does also.”

“You give me too much credit.” You bashfully avert your gaze, dropping your eye level to the rim of your mug no longer steaming. “It has only been a few, very odd occasions. Mere coincidences if nothing else.” Bloodhound shrugs off your deflection, unpersuaded by your argument.

“Even so.” The room falls into a content stillness after their last comment and you are left wondering how you had even ended up here. On T.V, Bloodhound was a truly mysterious character, never talking or partaking in the more rowdy activities as the others did. Sure, you were not an avid watcher, but from what little time you had spent gazing at the screen, you had made Bloodhound out to be a vastly stoic, isolated person. And by all means, they had mostly proven themselves to be exactly that person, what with their initial reluctance to meet your extended friendliness and the way they had so precariously placed themselves on this mountain all alone. However, sitting now with them in their own house, you did not feel intruding or unwelcome. And the way they spoke to you, the ease of words and conversation, came as soft and comfortable as if from someone you had known before. From them, you could feel nothing but gentle amity.

“Do you hunt?” Bloodhound’s voice wafts through the air and to your ears, bringing your head up in a hum. You snicker, a twinge of embarrassment pulling at your chest.

“Not if I can help it. Though Andante did try, I simply cannot,” you inhale deeply through your nose, suddenly aware of the gaze trained attentively on you, “Find the strength to actually kill anything. Much to the dismay of my patrons.” This peaks Bloodhounds attention and they motion for you to explain yourself.

“Every year around the beginning of Summer, before the birth of the first lambs, the town gathers for a sort of Summer festival. With my bar being the sole provider of food and alcohol for such an event, it normally fell upon Andante to supply the people with a freshly killed elk. A make-shift banquet we would all share. Everyone has so much fun.” Your head drops and your shoulders give inwards.

“But with him gone, I doubt I would be able to give the people what they want. Last year I barely managed to scrape by, I had to do a lot of ass-kissing to get the more hardened townsfolk back on my side. But this year,” Your story fades and you sigh miserably, the relief of finally expressing this concern aloud only seeming to momentarily dull the growing sense of shame.

“It is stupid, I know.” You run a hand through your hair, the bubbling self-hatred in your stomach threatening to go overboard. You were oversharing again. A lot. But you could not find a way to stop. “But, what right do I have to take the life of an animal when I already have frozen meat stored in my fridge?” Strength wanes from your knees and you are glad to be sitting down - oh, you were definitely going to kick yourself over this one later. Perhaps staying at home all alone would have been the better option after all.

In the silence that followed your last words, you felt incredible judgment bare down upon your shoulders and you wanted nothing more than to shrink away from it. Under the menace that was your own self-scrutiny, you were unable to recognize that Bloodhound was not, in fact, judging you. From behind their goggles, they watched you closely, noticing the subtle shudder of your shoulders, the downward twinge of your head, and the way your eyes seem to have lost that burning. This was something that troubled you deeply and for a terribly long time as well. So instead of what might be predicted of them to feel or do, mainly berate you for your lack of spine in the face of their profession, Bloodhound only leaned back in their chair and their mind wondering on how best to help you.

“It is not about vhat is right or vhat is not.” Bloodhound finally speaks, their tone mellow and coaxing you to look up at them again. At your acknowledgment, they continue with their explanation. “The hunt is a matter of vill - the vill of the hunter and of their prey. If your vill as a hunter surpasses that of the prey's vill to live, then you have every right to take it.” They ball their hand into a fist in an expression of power, shaking it slightly for emphasis. “You as a hunter must have an unwavering ákveðni, and strong belief in your skills. Trust your veapons and abilities, know that you are verðugt of the hunt.” Their voice lowers and they watch you for any signs of apprehension or disagreement. You only manage to look at them, eyes an unreadable ocean of something at war. They bring their fist to their chest and hammer it hard on the fabric, an attempt to ignite passion from you.

“If the hunter is humble and honors the hunt, then they have every right to taka their prey. Reap their rewards. You must just believe yourself vorthy of it. I have already seen that you have the ability and skill. Your bow, through troubled, aimed sure. And your knife brought a swift death. Now…”

“Just need to practice it.” You finish their statement, your gaze drifting a thousand miles away. Sure their wisdom was easy to take, generous even given the circumstances, but your mind was too frazzled to digest even a single word. Worthy? Not someone who hides in the forest and plays pretend bar-keeper. Bloodhound could see how you hesitated at their words, not necessarily rejecting it but not truly considering them either. They felt the urge to lean in more, to keep talking and chipping away at your pseudo mask until finally, they struck home. What were you thinking right now? Why were you so disgruntled at the thought of being worth something?

“You listen but my vords are not heard. You disagree vith vhat I say?” Bloodhound asks, their arms folding over their torso as they sit themselves upright, alert to your every movement and utterance. At their question you stir, a tired laugh that sounds more like a sigh escaping your nose and your eyes dropping their gaze.

“No, not at all. I am just… surprised.” Your response is framed with quiet complacency, your expression shifting to one of meek placidness. Bloodhound could tell that you were retreating back inside yourself, falling behind curtains of a trained profession such as the first night they met you. No longer were you that desperate person standing in the woods over a kill they mourned, instead you were a fake silhouette of someone who once was. They frown, unsure why they felt so unhappy to watch you shrink away again. Without speaking, Bloodhound asks you to elaborate.

“Forgive my rudeness but,” Your eyes snap up again and Bloodhound sees nothing in them. “I don’t really know you. And what little I do know, well, is that you are a most proficient hunter of both man and beast.” A hand lifts to your chest and you laugh. “You have seen it all and must think I am most annoying. Yet,” You pause, Bloodhound hanging off every one of your words, “You are so kind to my troubles.”

“I do not hunt in the Apex Games to prove anything. I do it for my folk and for the Allfather. I am no better than any other hunter.” Bloodhound speaks plainly, their heart thumping in their chest and their stare never once leaving your face. You smile unknowingly under their attention and they stare at your weak imitation of the real thing. Your true smile was the one they saw whilst sitting on the grass with you or when they told you stories in the car. Right now, you were faking it. Pulling away from them. Returning once more to your charade of sensibility. Whatever genuineness they had somehow managed to draw out of you was waning and they could do nothing but look on as you slipped away from them.

“I didn't mean to offend.” You ease them, your words lacing themselves with accommodation. “Your people must be very proud of all your titles however. No denying that it is impressive regardless of your motive.” You chuckle lightly. Suddenly you frown and you tilt your head at them. “May I ask,” When they did not oppose, you continued, “Why are you here? On this planet I mean. Why are you not with your people?” Bloodhound looks on like a marble statue, hardly even breathing beneath all their armor. You worry you might have overstepped your boundary and you open your mouth to apologize but they quickly cut you off.

“My folk vould not understand my decisions. Nor vould they approve of most that I do.” You can tell that the conversation was over and the warmth your bitter, hot drink had offered you only minutes earlier faded with the atmosphere. You nod in resignation.

“Then,” You say, standing and bowing your head in anticipated gratitude, the raven stranger’s attentive gaze not once shifting off your form, “I look forward to the Winter when I do not hear your Artur's call.”

~

“Oh my sweet, gentle Bar-keep, I am in need of your assistance!” Your eyes snap upwards from their work of stacking away cleaned glasses and you cannot help but grin at the one calling you. Seated at a table in the middle of your bar was a very drunk Thomas waving you over in exaggerated and hurried movements. He rocked backward in his seat and nearly looked as if he would fall over. You sigh and think it better to listen to him, lest your bar never know quiet again for the remainder of the evening. You step out from behind your bar table and carefully stroll over to him, a playfully condescending expression plastered to your face. Thomas beams a lop-sided smile and extends his hand, which you ignore and instead pat him lightly on his shoulder. He hums and overlaps your hand with his own seemingly unperturbed by your refusal.

“Ah my dear,” Thomas hiccups, swaying slightly in place despite being perfectly still, “Do not worry. I have not called you here to cause trouble. I just could not bear to see you stand behind your bar so lonely. I simply had to call you here. So troubled and worried over something.” Thomas squeezes your hand lightly and you roll your eyes at his obnoxious and misplaced concern.

“Though his words are slurred, they come from a genuine place.” From across the table, the farmer Mallory spoke. She offers you a sympathetic smile and silently apologies for her friend’s unruly behavior. Her heavy arms fold defensively over her large chest and she scowls at Thomas who sheepishly chuckles under her glare, retracting his hand and shrinking away slightly. Mallory sighs and looks to you again, the same concern that claimed her companion now sprinkled into her brown eyes. “You look a thousand years away tonight. What has upset you so?”

The two patrons turn their attention onto you and you gently shrug off their worries with a mild hand wave and flash of your smile. “You are looking for smoke signals when there is none, Mallory. And Mr. Thomas, you are concerned over the wrong things. You should be more concerned about returning to your own home before it gets too dark and I have to phone Rohan to come fetch you again.” Though the woman remains unmoved by your deflection, Thomas scoffs and shakes his head.

“Rohan’s bed will stay warm regardless of where I am. And he would excuse whatever lateness I cause if he had also seen how,” he stutters, his fingers flexing as he tried feebly to grasp at words that would not come, “ sad you look tonight.” You let out a tired laugh at the drunk fisherman’s antics and punch lightly at his shoulder.

“I assure you, my ‘sad looks’ are merely just that. Looks.” You gesture to the various empty beer glasses scattered around the table and after a nod from Mallory, you begin to place them on a tray to take back to the kitchen to be washed. “How ever could I be sad when I have your fine company to make my evenings so noisy?” This draws a cackle from the bitter woman, who relishes in your pecking at the man. Thomas gasps and feigns hurt under your judgments, a teasing hand placing pitifully over his broken heart.

It was all a lie, of course. There was some deep sincerity to your sadness that evening and it was not over Thomas’ painful crooning. Try as you might, your mind could not rid itself from the events that had occurred only the day before. What had happened with Bloodhound plagued your every waking moment. During the more lively hours of the day, when your bar was packed with singing, intoxicated patrons, you thankfully had a very loud and engrossing distraction. But now, as the evening winded down and the last table still waited to be cleared, your mind was awash with bitter thoughts.

It was all going so well, they had been so welcoming and friendly and you sat in their home confident and assured. They had shared in you their many stories and experiences, pulling you deeper into a conversation than you had ever been with them. And yet the moment you opened your mouth, allowed it to run unchecked and unguarded, the walls came down and the party ended. You were a fool, you kicked yourself. A damn, stupid fool for allowing yourself to speak so freely. To express to them a most sensitive part of yourself that not even your bathroom mirror had known. It was because of your inability to keep yourself in line that caused the rift to tear and now separate you from the person of your interest. Bloodhound told you such wonderful stories and now you were sure they would never want to speak to you again.

But you put on your brave face and pretend as if nothing is wrong. And that is true, of course. Nothing is wrong. Your life was fine before their intrusion and it shall be fine thereafter. The show must and will go on. Eventually, forced routine will become natural again and you will slip back into ease and complicit quietness. You will learn to move on and most certainly, so will they. If ever, you doubted greatly, you even left that much of an impact on them and all their glory.

“It is because you are so lonely, that's why you are so sad.” Thomas chimes, drawing both yours and Mallory’s attention back on him. He hums with content and leans back in his chair, sure that if he had a beard he would be stroking it thoughtfully. “We must find you someone to work with. Someone you can boss around and pull on their ear.” He winks at you and you smirk back, playing into his needful childishness.

“This is not the dark ages, Mr. Thomas.” You tease, taking your loaded tray to the bar counter and speaking over your shoulder. “We do not arrange marriages anymore.” The fisherman jeers and Mallory kicks him under the table. You return to them quickly, bringing with you a wet cloth and a glass of water requested by the woman. She presses it to Thomas’ face and commands him to sober up.

“Then how else are we supposed to get you hitched?” Thomas continues, paying no heed to the violent death stares of the woman sat across from him. Mallory kicks him again and he nearly spills his drink from the movement. You grin at the two of them, stepping back from the freshly wiped table with your arms folded over your chest.

“People don't need to be with others to be happy. I am perfectly content with myself as company.” You announce with your nose pointed in the air. “And you, as occasional annoyances.” The man chokes on his drink and Mallory snorts at your comment. You decide to continue playing along, matching their extended friendliness with your own enthusiasm.

“Y’know, I always thought it a vile rumor that fishermen were mad people.” You joke, taking the cloth and wringing it out before throwing it over your shoulder. “Nothing to do all day but sit in boats and think. But with every word you speak, my dear Thomas, I begin to believe that the rumor has some truth behind it." This arouses a snicker from the woman farmer and she shakes her head in amusement over you and disappointment for her friend. Thomas whines a noise that does not sound like any language you would know and Mallory leans forward.

"Finish your drink, my friend. I will see you home tonight." She urges the glass of water to his attention. "I cannot bear to watch you be torn apart any longer." Thomas darts his eyes between Mallory and you, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly like a fish out of water. You smugly smile at him, charming with all the beauty and grace of a snake. After a moment he relents, slumping down into his seat with a defeated huff, the water glass in hand.

“I swear, that mouth of yours,” Thomas moans into his glass weakly as if greatly wounded on a battlefield, “It is more vicious than any beast I’ve come across. Godspeed to anyone who dares to try to face such a monster.” At his last comment, you exhale loudly through your nose and shake your head dismissively. With one final look from Mallory, you leave the two late-evening patrons to finish their drinks and return to your work behind the bar.

The mood in the bar is somewhat lighter now and your hands worked at an easier pace with your mind quietly wondering over Thomas’ words. This was not the first time you had been scolded over your sharp words and you were sure it would not be your last. Conversation was your master and you were always one quick with your words, whether that be for the better or worse. Over the sound of you wiping down plates and glasses with a cloth, you could hear Thomas and Mallory talking faintly, the wind whispering outside your walls, and the gentle nothing of the world beyond. It was a peaceful evening, much more so now that you had dealt with your rowdy patron and the thoughts that curled like rats in a drowning cage. Though his comments were unnecessary, you thank Thomas for his distraction and for his unwitting lifting of your spirits. At least now you would be able to sleep soundly and with less of a worried mind.

Suddenly, a knock at the front door. Curious, unsure if it had even happened, you cast your attention over to it. It was far too late for anyone wanting to pop in for a drink and even if it was you were sure to turn them away. But still; there was no denying that you had, in fact, heard something. Or someone. Wordlessly, you slip out from your bar and quickly stroll to the door, pulling it swiftly open to reveal a cold night and a strange visitor.

“Oh,” You mumble, blinking numbly like a star-struck owl. You shake your head and revive your best smile to be planted on your lips. “What a lovely surprise.”

Standing before you, Bloodhound tipped their helmet, specks of accumulated snow falling off in the process. “Good evening,” They respond formally.

“And to you.” You nod back, familiar shivers running up and down your spine as you stood under their gaze. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” You swoon, curling your words with over-exaggerated sweetness so as to hopefully hide your utter shock at their being here. They always seem to have a knack for popping back into your life when you least expected it. But now of all time, why?! You could hardly even look at them straight after what had happened not even the day before! Fresh embarrassment boiled in our stomach and you wanted nothing more but to go back into your quiet existence. This had to be some cruel dream from a most hateful deity, cursing you out for some horrible act you had unwittingly done. Why could they not just go back to being a figure on the T.V, an unknown? Why did they have to be here, standing before you, talking to you?!

“I vish to speak with you.” Bloodhound says, voice terribly low and near-emotionless. It caught you off guard slightly at how plain and devoid of anything they sounded, nothing at all like the passionate hunter you sat and drank with yesterday.

“My bar will be closed soon.” You explain after a moment of debating on what to say. A strong part of you begged for an excuse to say no, the refusal even gracing the tip of your tongue in eager desperation. But your hospitality overrode your anxiety and you stepped to the side to allow entry into your bar. “If you do not mind waiting a few minutes then you will have my undivided attention.”

Bloodhound considers your words, eyes darting between your face and the warm interior of the business. They too notice how your own words seem guarded this evening, jaded behind bars of entertainment and false care. You smiled, yes, but it was not genuine. Again, you reeked of fakeness and it irked them for some unknown reason. They hum their agreement and stride quickly inside. Upon their entrance, two faces turn to look at them.

You shuffle between Bloodhound and the skeptical table, closing the door and guiding your new patron over to the bar. They follow closely behind you and seat themselves on a red cushion stool. You resume your position as host and perform your duties accordingly, offering them something to drink while they wait. Bloodhound silently refused, only lifting their hand and shaking their head.

“I don’t think I mentioned it before,” You say, works trickling out like a spring in a dessert, soothing all worries with a trained presentation. “A while ago we had a fellow pass through our humble town who had a similar accent to yours. He was a swindler and tried to persuade me to purchase from him strange pickled meats and other strange things.” While you spoke, you resumed your wiping of the glasses and plates, talking over your shoulder as you worked in a most casual manner.

“Though everyone tried to steady my hand, he just was so compelling and I caved. And now I have, stored in the back for the foreseeable future, a bottle of the most potent alcohol anyone has ever seen.” Your face softens into a smile as you recall the memories of that night when a brave soul tried to drink from that poison. “Someone once tried and no one has since. Perhaps it is a drink you know?” You cock your question at Bloodhound, leaning over the bar table and grinning.

“Your intuition values you, but perhaps another night I can provide you an answer.” You take Bloodhound dismissal with grace and nod your head in swift acknowledgment. They were cold tonight, the very definition of stoic. Whatever they wanted to discuss with you, you could only hope would somehow be more lighthearted than this. From behind the hunter, movement erupts as the two patrons stand up.

“We are off, my dear Bar-Keep.” Thomas sings, waving a hand at you in an irritating manner. Mallory follows close as they make their way to the front door, her eyes practically burning holes into the raven stranger’s dead-straight back. She passes you a flash of a concerned look and you calm her down with a cool smile.

“Have a good night and a safe journey home.” You call after them, mildly glad that now your ears would know rest from the fisherman’s chanting. However, as his hands grace the front door’s handle, Thomas quickly spins on his heels and points towards you and your new arrival.

“Don’t you dare try anything with my Bar-keep!” Thomas threatens, standing with his hackles raised like a chihuahua to a bear, “If I hear that you have touched even a single hair, so help me I’ll-”

“Thomas.” Mallory punches the man's shoulder causing him to drop his ill-backed threat and wince in pain. Without a moment more, the farmer shoves the man out the door and the two disappear into the night with the door closely swiftly behind. You stare after them, the atmosphere suddenly seeming to shrink and grow cold as you become painfully aware of your aloneness with the hunter.

“They seem nice.” Bloodhound remarks and you are so stunned by their nonchalant attitude you nearly snort.

“It is a small town. Everyone here is like family.” You explain, turning to face those unreadable, immovable lenses. “Besides, I serve him beer. I get special privileges.” At this Bloodhound seems to stir and you feel slightly more room to breathe. Relax, it was just conversation. Don’t get carried away again and you will be fine.

The conversation halted, however, neither you nor Bloodhound knowing what next to say to break the forming ice that had started growing between you two. Though you wanted to know what exactly had compelled them to travel all the way to visit you on such an odd evening, you could tell that they were not ready to answer so instead you plucked random topics from the top of your head.

“Winter is moving slowly this year,” You begin, regaling the exact dialogue you had shared that afternoon prior with a patron and reusing it word for word, “No big snow storms as of yet. But that just means that towards the end of the season, Mother Nature will rear her true head and drive us all inside our houses.” You sigh and rest your elbow on the tables’ surface, your busy work of drying cutlery all finished and packed away. “Many people tell me, warn me in fact, that the late-season storms are the worst kinds. Impossible snow and hail and everything else to make the shit pie complete. And I thought the cold now is hard to handle. I have no idea how I’ll-”

“Stop that.” Bloodhound interrupts you harshly, their voice an almost growl as they sit behind their undecipherable armor. You are slightly taken aback by their outright force at the command, flashbacks to the first time you met them in all their rage reappearing in your mind. Bloodhound remains still, fists clenched over the table, shaking beneath the heavy red fabric gloves.

Though you cannot see, they squeeze their eyes shut in an effort to understand why, so suddenly, they were getting so worked up. Why were you just talking to them? So nonchalant and practiced - it felt as if talking to them was a chore. Some kind of business transaction or task that was only being done as a means to an end. But that is not what muddled Bloodhound’s mind, not your lack of genuine interaction, your quiet was not what drove them out of their house and to your bar this evening. What made them toil in confused agony, was why they even cared so much for your genuine company?

“What?” You murmur after a minute of stale silence, the wind picking up the rising atmosphere inside the bar and clawing at the windows to join in. The raven stranger does not respond right away, instead they fight with what words would be best used in this kind of delicate situation.

“Stop that.” They repeat their vague statement sternly, staring at you through their goggles with great intent, noticing any slight change in your features or body language. “Stop trying to sell me your company. I do not vant it.” At this you frown and straighten your back, confused beyond anything at what they could mean. You open your mouth to speak but Bloodhound stops you with a raised hand.

“You talk but there is no life. You smile but there is no light behind it. Do you think I am not worthy of your trueness? I have seen your true self but always you hide it. Do you think you are not worthy of enjoying yourself?” Utterly and so completely shocked at what was being said, you stood wordless with your face a mix between anger and bewilderment. Bloodhound watched you, eyes scanning up and down your form for any signs of egregious discontent. Why weren’t you speaking? Why weren’t you reacting in any way? Had their visit and accusations not even struck a nerve with you? You only stood there, placid and unwavering, like ice waiting for the sun to melt it.

“I have talked vith this free person, sat in silence vith them and felt þægilegt , calm. And I came here this evening because…” Bloodhound falters at this, unsure at what best to say when describing the reason they themselves still had no answer to. Why had they come here to bother you? Why had you not left their thoughts since yesterday, or even, since that afternoon on the grass? Why is it that when the world goes quiet and they stand still to listen, it is you who looms in the corner of their vision, beckoning for them to find you? In such a short time of meeting, somehow you had trapped them in some unforeseen and unbreakable cage - an ever-present urge to lean in more, to seek you out. But why, exactly, it was you of all people who had proclaimed that spot of interest, was a mystery that the Allfather cruelly hid from them.

“Vhat is it you vant from me?” Bloodhound lowly asks, their tone hollow and their demeanor stone-cold. Perhaps that was the reason for their spontaneous visit - to search for an answer themselves. To find out if maybe you felt at all the same way they did.

“Nothing.” The words leak from your lips like a whisper yet hold the strength and bite of a scream. Devoid of all anger, hostility, confusion, and regret, you gaze back at the raven stranger, “What ever could I possibly want from you?” And there it was - their answer.

“Now if that is all you came to ask me, then I must now say good night.” You motion with your attention towards the door, still shell-shocked over what had just transpired. Why are they so angry towards you? So taken aback by, what you were sure to be, great and comforting hospitality? This was the reason you had so ardently avoided opening yourself up to people, allowing yourself to talk unchecked often leads to situations where people get angry. And now Bloodhound was angry and you were sure you could never fix it.

The raven stranger slowly rises from their seat, tipping their helmet in a stiff manner before silently making their way over to the front door. This is how it will be, forever. You made a mistake, let your mouth have free rein over your conversations, and brought ruin to a person that made your chest ache. And as you watched them slip away into the snowy night, the only thing you can say was, “Have a safe journey home.”