#while she was saying this she had immediately abandoned the other two and walked over to me where she wrapped me up in a hug & then pulled

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

[targaryen-dynasty]

INNATE DESIRES. (1/5)

Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT — MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, p in v, profanity, semi public sex, size kink, power imbalance, breeding, choking, female reader (no mentions of looks besides purple eyes)

WORDS: 3.4 K

NOTES: The events of this start somewhere between 41 AC to 44 AC, while the rest takes place around 45 AC. Visenya has not died (yet), but Cersye, Alys and Tyanna have. Aegon and Rhaena are captured at Crakehall, and Viserys is still his squire and hostage.

After the passing of your father, you, your younger siblings and mother had fled from Dragonstone to Driftmark almost immediately. It was a blessing and a curse altogether, because it meant you could keep your life after the arrival and coronation of your uncle Maegor, while you would have loved nothing more than to witness the sight of the Black Dread’s shadow devouring the castle on the eponymous island. 

When the Dowager Queen and Vhagar arrived, it was her that urged your mother to come back to join the busy life at court – meaning you and your siblings were to abandon her childhood home Driftmark. 

Your mother’s stay in the capital was brief, and you assumed it was because she could not stand to be separated from her children any longer, as Visenya had ordered you four to Dragonstone instead. 

Two years after your arrival, it was evident that you had become a prisoner in all but name to Visenya on Dragonstone, barely allowed to leave the castle. When she was not around, her spies and vipers were. 

And so it was even more surprising that, when you were summoned to the Throne Room in the midst of your lessons, you came face to face with none other than your uncle. He sat on the throne, his mother lingering not too far away. With him in the room, his big frame concealing most of the impressive seat, it was even more apparent how frail she had become over the years. If you would have to guess, she would not do much longer. 

As your purple eyes met his, it was as if a wildfire ignited in your body, coursing through your veins, vividly remembering the night you had caught him speaking to your father about a possible betrothal. But it also angered you, knowing that he had left for Pentos with his second wife not long after, without even saying goodbye. 

On the other side of the throne stood none other than your mother, and while both Visenya and Maegor seemed rather smug and pleased, Alyssa had a grim expression on her face. 

Like an invisible string luring your body towards his, you came to a stop shortly before the first step to where he sat. “Your Grace.“ You smiled sweetly at him and slightly bowed your head, more out of courtesy than true belief, because your brother Aegon was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne after all. 

At least five knights guarded the door to the Throne Room behind you, and when Maegor rose from his seat with the pommel of Blackfyre fidgeting between his thick fingers, you were certain that was the moment your life came to an end. 

His steps were heavy as he walked down the steps, coming to a stop just shy of you. His domineering frame was looming over yours, and you had long forgotten the last time you had to crane your neck to look up at someone as tall and big as he was. 

“Leave us,“ Maegor’s gruff voice rang out, and when both Dowager Queens opened their mouths to protest, he was quick to shush them with a simple raise of his hand. Even when they walked past you, you did not dare break eye contact with your uncle, and while he usually was a hard and brutal man, there was a hint of softness in his eyes solely reserved for you. 

When you two were the only people left in the room, he directed his voice towards you. “You have grown,“ he stated, his eyes traveling up and down your body. With the defiance of a young woman, you jutted out your chin just slightly, nonchalantly looking up at him. “How would you know?“ you asked. “Five years and you have not once come to visit me.“

Your uncle chuckled dryly, one hand coming up to pinch your chin. “You know ‘tis not as easy as you make it seem.“ 

From how much your father had told you after Maegor’s departure, you knew he probably was right, though you had yet to find out the true reason behind it. With his longing stare making you somewhat uneasy, the pregnant pause between you two grew thicker with tension.

Until your voice cut through it. 

“Why are you here, uncle? Do you not have a wife to care for and a realm to rule?“

“I do,“ he said, his tone growing a bit harsher as the memory of the stranger taking his three wives not too many moons ago flashed before his eyes. “I am here for you.“

A small crease formed between your brows at his words. “I am afraid I do not understand.“

“Maybe you will understand this.“ Where his paw had rested on your chin before, it traveled down to your waist, almost taking up its entirety with his fingers splayed out. 

He dipped his head towards yours, but you were quick to bring your hand up between your faces, taking a careful step back. “We can not,“ you stated, trying to sound stern, yet you were betrayed by your fluttering nerves, your heart beating in your throat.

With his hand still on your waist, he pulled you back against his firm chest as if you weighed nothing, the sheer display of his strength bringing heat to your cheeks. “The matter is settled already. I shall take you as my wife in a sennight,“ he said. “I have waited long enough for this, and with my brother dead there is no one left to deny me.“

“My mother–“ 

“Has no other choice than to give me what I want.“ The threat was unspoken but clear. 

Every attempt to speak against him was silenced by his lips on yours. The kiss was far from being gentle, and it was evident he claimed your lips with a carnal need. With his hands traveling over the curves of your waist down to your rear, roughly fisting the skirts of your gown, it was obvious that he intended to do the same with your body. 

Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage when your lips parted, releasing a shaky breath. “I-I have never–,” you whimpered, trailing off as you looked at him with wide eyes. Every ounce of affection and gentleness Maegor mayhaps held before had vanished with a snap, leaving only a man hungry for your virtue. 

But no matter how badly your body ached for his touch, having craved it for so, so long, you pulled away to walk past him, climbing the few steps towards the throne with shaky legs as a heat settled at the apex of them. You had to bring some space between the two of you, mayhaps that allowed your thoughts to clear again. 

”My brother Aegon–,“ you started, but were interrupted when you tripped over one of the last steps, causing you to topple forwards. Taking in a sharp breath while bracing yourself on your hands and knees, Maegor was quick to not allow you to get back on your feet. Kneeling down next to you with one hand resting in the place between your shoulders, he applied just enough pressure to keep you down. 

“Where is your craven brother now, sweetling?“ he emphasized the nickname with a condescending tone, and it should have you feeling sick to the stomach, not aroused. “Not here. He had the chance to claim the Iron Throne, but he did not take it.“

His hand brushed over the bodice of your dress, trailing deep enough so he could cup your arse. But it merely lingered there for a few seconds, never settling. That touch alone still was enough to reignite the flame within you, and only when your fluttered nerves calmed just a bit, you noticed the proximity between you – and how he looked at you with darkened eyes. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tried to gather some courage before speaking, “You are just as much of a coward as he is. Coming to claim what is rightfully his when he is besieged at Crakehall.” Another chuckle came from Maegor, but this time it sounded somewhat amused. 

“Oh, I know you do not think so highly of your own kin,” he said, a smug smirk pulling on the corners of his chiseled lips. His other hand came up to cup your cheek gently, the pad of his thumb brushing your lips. 

“Enough with the mummer's farce, Y/N. Are you not at least a little happy to see me, mh?” It was evident in his mocking tone that he did not really care much about your feelings. You were meant to marry him regardless of what you wanted. 

With pleading eyes, you looked at him, slowly nodding your head and allowing your guard to fall – even if only for a few seconds. “Y-Yes.”

“And do you not want to be a good, obedient wife to me?”

If his question did not already choke the air from your lungs, his hand fisting the skirts of your dress to lift it just enough for his hand to snake underneath certainly did. It was him harshly groping the flesh of your arse that caused you to speak again, forcing you without voicing a command. 

“I do.”

As his fingers started to drag over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, he got all the confirmation he needed to proceed with his actions. The ministrations of his fingers grew in determination, dragging around your little bud in circular motions and eliciting soft whimpers to fall past your lips. As the pleasure rippled through your body, your hands grabbed the edge of the step beneath you, knuckles blanching from the force. 

Shame filled your veins, and you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, instead focusing on the throne in front of you. “I–,” you wanted to repeat your previous words, but your uncle was quick to cut you off. “Then let me be the first and only. You belong to me.” 

Any protest was once again silenced by your own gasp as two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside, scarcely dragging through your soaked mound. Only when they were generously coated in your arousal, he eventually pushed them inside without a warning. 

“Gods,” you whimpered, tears brimming in your eyes as your maiden hole tried to adjust to the girth of his fingers. “P-Please…” You did not know what you were begging for. For him to leave you be or for him to give you more?

Maegor seemed to be at least a bit mindful when it came to your maidenhead, keeping his fingers still until they were buried to the hilt. You clenched around him tightly, which caused him to hiss through gritted teeth as if it was his cock plunging deep inside you and not his fingers, hardly preparing you for what was to come. 

“Please,” Maegor mocked you with a chuckle, pushing his lips forwards into a pout that feigned his pity. “You are so pretty when you beg, niece.” The ministrations of his fingers were slow, pulling out almost completely only to push right in again. The sounds of pleasure they forced from your throat were enough to drive the man next to you close to insanity. 

His head dipped forward, looking you down with a sharp expression that savored the sight of your face contorting in pleasure all because of him. Your body was torn between feeling hungry for him and being humiliated because of him, the interplay leaving you utterly confused, and longing to be filled by something else of his. 

When he withdrew his fingers from your cunt, they were glistening with your arousal. The warmth that slowly spread throughout your stomach had vanished just like that, and the whine that slipped past your lips at the loss of friction was the epitome of being pathetic. 

He brought his fingers up to his mouth, engulfing them with his lips and humming as if he enjoyed the finest Arbor red the castle had to offer. You squeezed your thighs to soothe the aching that burned between them at the sight, feeling empty and not at all satisfied. “So, so sweet,” he purred, the tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used before. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath he released in the following, the purple of his eyes almost eclipsed by black. 

Magor leaned in to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent he had missed so dearly for the past five years. 

The softness of his voice and the close contact had you losing yourself in his dominating presence, completely at his mercy. A kiss was pressed to the crown of your head before his bulky frame disappeared behind you, one leg bent at the knee while the other foot was planted firmly on the ground. Because he was so close, you felt him undoing the laces of his breeches, his hands bumping against your arse each time he pulled the strings loose. 

Your impatience got the worst of you, masked as a shiver traveling up your spine. You were not sure if you had to accommodate a girth wider or lesser than his fingers, but at this point you did not care. Your body longed for something you hadn’t felt before, and it needed it. Now. 

One of his hands darted to your hip, squeezing it harshly while the other wrapped around his hard member. Feeling the impatience take over your body, you pushed your hips back enough for the tip of him to prod at your hole, causing your teeth to sink into your bottom lip. 

As you turned your head to look at him from over your shoulder, your hooded eyes met his, a lazy smirk draped over his features. “That is all it takes to change your mind?” he mocked, stifling a grunt as he forced himself into your tightness, your maiden walls squeezing him. “Pathetic.” All of the sudden, his raspy voice was strained, having to restrain himself from pounding into you before he even filled you to the brim. You could see it in the way he set his jaw, forcing you to avert your eyes in fear.

You released a mixture of a whine and a shaky breath, the burning of the stretch prominent enough to cloud your mind and set your body on full alert. With both his paws on your hips, you could not even intervene or squirm away. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your clenching walls as you accommodated the sheer size of his member, not making the stretch any more pleasurable. 

“S-Stop,” you whimpered. 

And Maegor actually listened, but only because he had bottomed out completely and needed a few moments to regain his composure, adapting to you squeezing him like a vice. “It will become more pleasant soon,” he grunted, trailing his hands up and down your sides in a comforting manner you did not know he possessed. “Trust me.”

The first snaps of his hips were neither hard nor fast, but deep and determined enough to brush that sweet spot inside of you your own fingers had not reached before. Having his breeches pulled down enough to free his cock and the sac of his stones, they slapped against your sensitive bud each time his hips met yours. 

With that pace, the burning slowly but surely turned into the pleasure your body had been asking for. 

Looking back at him once again, you were blessed with something you hadn’t seen before. A few strands of his usually neat, silver hair hung in front of his face, every now and then clinging to the few beads of sweat on his forehead before the tremors of his thrusts freed them again.

He felt you adjusting to his size, which prompted him to increase the pace to the point he was pounding you. Each impact forced your head to tip forwards and your knees to scrape across the stone floor, barely diminished by the skirt of your dress. 

Something you hadn’t anticipated was him bringing his hand in front of you to clasp around your throat. With the strength he possessed, his grip was tight, choking you regardless of him intending to do so or not.  

“I want you to look at the throne,” he commanded through gritted teeth, the choking and gasping sounds you made merely a dull noise in the background. “‘Tis the seat our son will sit in one day.”

His other arm snaked around your waist as he pulled your back flush against his firm chest, securing you and keeping you steady despite the reckless snaps of his hips. Mayhaps it was the possibility and danger of the Dowager Queens barging into the Throne Room or because you finally got what you had craved for more than five years, but your peak built in the pit of your stomach far too quickly for your own liking. 

“I am going to fuck you so full of my seed, making sure it will bear fruit.”

Maegor shifted his hips, angling them so he was thrusting upwards into you, which had his cock reaching even deeper than before, causing you to mewl and whine. Even if you wanted to, you could not reply, but with a renewed wave of your arousal dripping down his throbbing member and stones, you did not even have to.

“I-I–,” you stammered, his grip not loosening. It was a surprise you managed to inhale enough air to fill your lungs – mayhaps he was better at assessing his strength than you thought. 

“Go on,” he rasped, squeezing your throat in a rhythm that matched his hips, sensing your impending peak. 

It was embarrassing how quickly your peak took over at his words, rippling through you with soaring pleasure. Each time his stones hit your little bud, your overstimulated body tried to jerk away from him – but to no avail with his strong arm around your waist. 

Maegor watched in awe as your body trembled within his grasp, the tremors growing more apparent with each second he did not pull out. His mouth pressed to the side of your face, tongue licking a flat stripe from your jaw up to your temple. 

“You want my seed, niece?” he grunted into your ear, “want me to fuck a child into you? See your body swell with my seed?”

Finally loosening the grip he had on your throat to allow you to speak, you croaked a ‘seven hells, yes!’ into the chilly air of the Throne Room. “Put a babe in me… please,” you all but begged, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of him – enough to capture his lips with your own. 

The response of your body his and your own words elicited was pitiful, but it was just the truth. You wanted his child, the thought lingering in your mind for the past five years. Your walls trembled around him, choking him so tightly the bull of a man behind you had to take a deep breath to keep his composure. But all effort was fruitless when his pulsing cock spent itself inside of your quivering walls. 

Each of his grunts and groans was devoured by your lips on his, drinking them down as if they were the only things keeping you alive. Out of instinct, you started to roll your hips against his, prolonging his own peak as you milked him for every drop of his seed. 

Maegor was out of breath by the time his movements came to a stop, staying buried inside of you as if he meant to make sure his efforts bore fruit. And you relished in it, despite the vulnerable position it brought you in.

Tipping his forehead against your temple, he closed his purple eyes, breathing shakily before speaking, “merely pack the bare essentials for the travel. We shall depart for King’s Landing in the morrow… on dragon back."

Bowing your head once, you fixed your undergarments and dress once he had pulled out, sitting back on your haunches. With your back facing him, he did not notice the wide grin on your lips. 

Mayhaps then you finally were to witness the sight of Balerion’s shadow devouring Westeros' capital.

Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @watercolorskyy @xxxkat3xxx @baedebnam @simonedk @heavenhatesme

[hurtmemoreplease]

Bzzzzt.

"Hey," I said, a little hesitantly. "I don't want to pry or anything, but is something going on? Your phone has been going off all evening."

"Hmm?" My girlfriend glanced up absentmindedly. "No, it's just that butch I met last week. You remember me telling you about her, right?"

I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was a little jealous, I could admit. Things hadn't been the best between us, lately. I wasn't really feeling up to topping, and she had never really liked taking the lead, so we had stalled out a bit. I trusted her, of course, but I felt bad for not being the hard domme that she sometimes wanted me to be.

Bzzzzt.

She smiled at her phone again, then placed it face down on her desk and turned fully to me.

"Babe, I was thinking." She started, "Can I tie you up? Like, now?"

I blinked. "Are you sure? You almost never-"

"Yes." She cut me off, her gaze weirdly intense.

"Should I go shower and shave? It's been-"

She shook her head. "Just go lie on the bed while I grab the ropes and stuff?"

I gave her a look of surprise. "And stuff? Someone's in the mood."

She glared at me. I laughed and walked over to the other room, taking off my shirt and bra and tossing them over to the dresser.

I shimmied out of my pants and hopped onto the bed, taking the moment to stretch out my arms and legs.

I had barely waited long enough to feel cold when my girlfriend bustled in, her arms filled with restraints of black faux-leather and fuzz.

"Lie back," She commanded.

"Puppy," I said, and saw her visibly shiver in pleasure. "I don't want you to force yourself. What's going on?"

She shook her head and grabbed my wrist, wrapping a cuff around it and pushing it down. She clipped it to the bedpost, then repeated the process with the other arm.

I shrugged, as much as I was able. "I trust you," I told her, as much to mask my nervousness as to reassure her.

"Ugh," she said, then grabbed my jaw and gently pushed the ball gag into my mouth, my lips parting without any conscious input on my part. "Just be quiet."

The blindfold was next, and everything went dark. I felt her hand trail down my body, caressing my tits and lingering on the nipple for half a moment before twisting sharply. I gasped, and the pain stopped immediately.

I tensed, expecting another pinch, but there was nothing but the sound of footsteps. I tried to frown around the gag.

A gust of wind from the fan made me shiver, reminding me that I was very much naked and exposed.

I heard the sound of the apartment door opening, and tried to lift an eyebrow. I wasn't opposed to abandonment play, but it was a little unexpected.

The murmur of voices from the other room nixed that idea, though. I tried to imagine what she was doing, but none of the ideas jumped out. She could have been ordering a pizza? Maybe there had been someone at the door? She wasn't into netorare, was she...?

The number of possibilities slimmed rapidly as I heard two sets of footsteps approach, one much heavier than the other.

"Hey, what's going on?" I asked.

"Mm, mm mmm mm?" My girlfriend repeated, her tone not quite mocking, but unexpectedly harsh.

"So," an unfamiliar voice asked, "This is the gal, huh?" I felt someone heavy sit on the bed next to me. "Sure is a cutie," she said, and her hand rested softly on my exposed neck.

Jesus, I thought, as she started to tighten her grip, ever so slightly, her hand is huge!

My windpipe was barely constricted for a second before she let go, but that was enough to have me gasping and panting through the gag, a reaction that elicited a chuckle.

"This is gonna be fun," she said, then got quieter, like she was talking to someone else. "If you wanna go get ready, I'll get started."

Breath tickled my ear, and I heard my girlfriend whisper. "I've been waiting for this alllll week."

A pair of large hands lifted my hips, adjusting them so my legs were spread and I was even more exposed.

Something cold and wet pressed against my butt, and the suddenness of the sensation made me arch my back.

"C'mon..." my girlfriend pouted. "I want to hear your noises."

"What do you think?" The butch asked, "One finger or two, to start?"

"Start with two," my girlfriend replied. "If we try to work all the way up then we'll be here all night."

Her lubed fingers slid in, forcing me open. I gasped or moaned - maybe both at once. The sensation of her fingers pushing inside me, slowly, gently, filled my mind.

"-already leaking," I heard, the first part of the conversation lost.

She started to withdraw her fingers, and I made a soft moan of disappointment, instantly morphing into ecstatic pleasure when she pulled out with a pop.

I felt my girlfriend's hot breath in my ear. "I'm such a bad dog," she told me, "I loovvvveee hearing your noises." Her breaths were heavy enough that I didn't doubt her.

"And when she told me she was lookin' for the type of woman that could break her owner in half, well..." The butch chuckled darkly. "I ain't gonna say no to a two for one deal like that."

She stuck her fingers back in me, but kept moving this time, punctuating her words by driving deep into me and making my hips buck.

"You can go ahead and start touching yourself, sweetheart, I'll tell her about the deal," she told my girlfriend, then turned her attention back to me.

I tried to focus on her words, over the sound of my puppy furiously masturbating right next to my face, and the sensation of the butch's fingers pounding me.

"See, your girl told me that you've a thing for collars, yeah? And it just so happens I've got one in my back pocket right now."

Her free hand caressed my bare neck, and I couldn't contain a moan. "But I ain't the type to let my dogs off leash." She laughed. "Just good manners."

A third finger slid in and my brain went blank.

"Back with me?" she asked, "Good. So, come morning, if you ain't interested, I walk out of here and neither of ya'll see me again. Understand?"

"Mmmm," I said, as calmly as the situation allowed.

She hummed appreciatively. "Puppy over there is right, your dumb little moans ARE cute. Now, if I can convince you before then to put this baby on, then I get both of you. Sound fair?"

"Well," she said after a moment of consideration, "Don't really matter what you think, huh. Good luck on holding out!"

[yuesya]

“They finally found her?”

This is not the first Pillar meeting that was held in recent times, but it is certainly an unusual one, because these meetings are generally never called on such short notice. Pillars have many responsibilities, and are often traveling all over Japan, after all. And yet, Kocho Shinobu can understand the haste in this case; the search for the strange demon slayer whom Rengoku had spoken of had finally borne fruit, and Oyakata-sama wished to meet her.

The strange demon slayer who’d killed Upper Moon Three in combat during nighttime.

All demon slayers know that there are two ways to kill a demon. Decapitation, or sunlight. Yet according to Rengoku’s report, the girl had not gone for either option. Beneath the cold moonlight, she’d sliced Upper Moon Three into pieces with a sword that was not forged of sun-blessed nichirin steel.

How had she done it?

“One of the Tsuchinoto-ranked demon slayers found our mysterious demon slayer,” Shinobu tells her fellow Pillar. “From what I’ve heard, apparently she wasn’t even aware that we were looking for her.”

It was strange that this girl had, according to the Tsuchinoto’s report, never heard of their organization before. Hadn’t even known what ‘demon’ referred to, until the Tsuchinoto had brought up her feat of killing Upper Moon Three. To which the girl had responded with a simple, ‘So that’s what they’re called.’

It’s not unheard of for humans to encounter and kill demons prior to learning about the existence of the Demon Slayers and receiving proper training and support. Shinazugawa Sanemi, the Wind Pillar, had deliberately gone around hunting demons on his own before eventually being recruited… and he had been in a terrible state at the time. If he’d continued as he was, he’d likely only have succeeded in driving himself into an early grave.

If this girl had managed to kill Upper Moon Three, then it meant that she’d been trained –if not specifically in slaying demons, then at least in the art of combat. And yet, Rengoku had said that she hadn’t used any Breathing Style.

Considering that no one had any idea of who she was, or where she’d come from… was it possible that she shared a similar background to Uzui Tengen? Shinobu knows that the man came from a shinobi village hidden away from the world, where children had been trained from birth in the ninja arts.

… But musing endlessly on the various possibilities will get her nowhere. It’s best to see the girl in person first, then make any judgments after.

…

Shinobu’s first impression of her is pretty.

The girl that walks through the set of sliding doors is petite, with delicate features that are almost doll-like. Long white hair, deep blue eyes.

But she’s not pretty in the way that one would say of the loveliness of flowers, or a sun-bright smile. Rather, the girl’s beauty is one that Shinobu associates with the fragrance of wisteria poison, or the sharpness of an open blade.

Dangerous.

Shinobu takes one look at the girl and immediately recognizes that her instincts ring out in warning. But what–?

“Thank you for accepting my request for a meeting,” Oyakata-sama says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. “I am Ubuyashiki Kagaya, ninety-seventh leader of the Demon Slayer Corps.”

“… Gojo Shiki,” the girl names herself, impassive and expressionless.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Oyakata-sama remains amiable. “I understand that you were the one to save Kyojuro. Thank you for–”

Oyakata-sama suddenly breaks off in the middle of his words, harsh coughs wracking his body. Shinobu abandons decorum, scrambling to reach his side; she’s a doctor–

“… It’s alright, Shinobu,” Oyakata-sama shakes his head at her. Blood trickles down from the edge of his mouth, and Shinobu can feel something in her chest twist horribly at the sight.

“No, Oyakata-sama,” Shinobu shakes her head. “Your sickness, it’s getting worse. You need rest, Oyakata-sama–”

“Not while there are still other matters to attend to,” Oyakata-sama rebukes gently, and Shinobu falls silent, biting her lip. “I am touched and grateful for your concern, but I am not yet invalid –and there remains much to be done.”

… Oyakata-sama is not one to shirk his duties, but he can’t go on like this. His body–!

“Is this why you sought me out? Because your curse is killing you?”

Shinobu stiffens, and whirls around.

“What do you mean?” she demands.

“Your oyakata-sama isn’t sick,” the white-haired girl shrugs carelessly, “He’s cursed.”

[jellywalker-apocalypse]

The Dark Cacao Kingdom was always barren.

It had always been like that, for the longest time that Caramel Arrow—or really, even Hollyberry—could remember.

But.. seeing it completely empty, with snow filling in holes of destroyed lives and broken dreams, was still such a shock to witness. Every footstep they took echoed. The silence felt deafening, especially after so long hearing blubbering zombies over your shoulder for months. It was just so.. weirdly different. The corridors that Caramel Arrow once knew almost felt new, despite their layout being unchanged. It was simply.. unsettling.

Though.. even with the growing worries, Caramel Arrow felt herself being unable to give up hope. Desperately grasping for any ounce of hope that the Kingdom she so suddenly abandoned managed to find any way to persevere. Any way to keep both itself and the people within safe, continuing on with their duties in complete and utter control. Any way to make sure there were as little casualties as possible.

Hollyberry stood close behind the younger cookie, sharing almost the exact same hope—the hope of finding any survivors that may have survived whatever form of Jellywalker invasion hit the Kingdom so badly.

Neither of them said any words, though. The surrounding silence, although being usually scary, felt somewhat like a relief to hear. No sounds means no Jellywalkers, but.. also means no people.

As they approached the throne room, their hopes began to grow.. faltering. Absolutely zero signs of any stray cookies, right outside of the King’s throne room..

The two share an ever so slightly concerned glance. The King.. Dark Cacao. What had happened to him? There had been zero sign of him around their mini patrol of what was left of the Kingdom.

Dark Cacao.. no. There was no way he could have fallen—he was so set on protecting what he could. Determined to make sure his Kingdom was safe, kept away from danger..

…

The two are snapped from what felt like their own shared thoughts as another, quiet pair of echoing footsteps begin to sound throughout the hallway.

Yet, as soon as they come, they disappear, setting the hallway into silence again.

Caramel Arrow’s attention is almost immediately taken to the throne room’s entrance.

And she wastes absolutely zero time, practically running as fast as her exhausted body could let her without letting Hollyberry even get a single word out about anything that might’ve just made those footsteps.

Caramel Arrow’s mind was so set on the possibility of her King still being alive. She’d rush into a whole swarm of Jellywalkers if it meant at the end she got to see him alive.

But.. even while rushing as fast as she could to get a glance of what just walked around, the feeling of immense guilt brewed in the back of her mind. What would she even say to His Majesty? Admit that she ran from her duties, broke a vow she made years ago?

The watcher shakes her head as she continues bolting into the throne room, already beginning to feel her growing, everlasting exhaustion start creeping up on her.

As she makes it into the throne room, she pauses-stopping right in her tracks as she’s met with a figure sitting unmoving and unbothered delicately on the throne.

Dark Cacao Cookie.

He was dressed in his usual beat up armor, long cape draping down to the bottom of the throne itself.

Yet.. his crown was missing from his brow, instead being hung from the side of the throne. Almost as if he felt like he did not deserve to sit at a throne and wear a crown at the same time.

His face was obscured by his own messy and heavily unkempt hair, while his posture made it even harder to recognize his facial features. Furthermore, he made no noise or movement as Caramel Arrow began sprinting to him.

She stopped a few short feet away from the king, landing on one knee while she rested her arm on the other-tilting her head downward as a sign of respect and eagerness to follow his orders. Her feeling of guilt, though.. she could not deny it was continuing to grow at a rapid pace now that she knew he had lived through the invading swarm.

She would have to tell him everything while she could, but.. god, she didn’t want to.

Hollyberry followed shortly after, moving to put her hood down as she immediately recognized the cookie sat on the throne.

So he had lived.. she was incredibly relieved to at least know that. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she had to travel back to the Vanilla Kingdom after her voyage and bear the news of his death to Pure Vanilla and White Lily. It still brought up the question of what had happened to everybody else, though. Why was it that his kingdom is so.. empty?

She wishes she could talk with him as soon as possible, but.. she’s sure that the two Cacaoians need some of their own time to discuss what had even happened. Caramel Arrow didn’t seem too fond about talking directly to her about it.. perhaps she had waited to try and find the king of the Cacao Kingdom itself to mention it directly to him?

She carefully stops a few moments behind Caramel Arrow, keeping a concerned glance at the poor postured king sitting at the throne. Something was clearly.. wrong. There should be very little reason for him to be sulking like this atop his own throne…

The large room is thrown into complete silence, spare the noises of the blizzarding snow outside of the kingdom’s faltering walls. Nobody seemed to speak, to move, to try and reconcile..

It was all just silent.

And it was only making Caramel Arrow’s guilt eat up at her more and more.

With every moment of utter silence, Caramel Arrow grew guiltier and guiltier.

Her hope was dwindling. Having the king alive is only one step in the bigger picture of things.

Everyone else could be dead.

Everyone else could be dead because of her.

She ran.. she ran from—-

“…Caramel Arrow Cookie.”

Dark Cacao finally spoke, voice loud yet audibly broken and mentally weak.

“First Watcher. You’re.. brave to come here again. After everything.”

Caramel Arrow’s free hand grasped at the brick below her feet.

The room fell into silence again. Caramel Arrow’s breathing began to hitch. It was now clear she was struggling to keep her own composure.

Still, despite that, she attempted to speak in response.

The words she spoke, though, were saddening to even bear witness to. Words that she shouldn’t have to say. Not after everything Dark Cacao himself had put her through, even if the situation had been taken the wrong way. They were words that should be said to her, not words that she should have to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

That was the most quiet either Ancient had ever heard her. Her voice was wavering, unstable and shaky. Everything, from her own exhaustion to the guilt of her leaving everything behind, was crashing in as she tried to speak.

Hollyberry’s attention flicks back and forth from Dark Cacao to her, but the Ancient Cookie’s expression of pure worry does not waver. It was clear to her now that something was going to unfold, and she would be yet again powerless to stop it.

“I..” Caramel Arrow picks up again, her voice continuing to grow defeated at each word she struggled to force out of her mouth. “I failed to.. to complete my duties.. my vow..”

Dark Cacao repositions himself slightly, posture becoming more formal. He did not say a word.

“I did not stay true to my word.. my word of fighting until I couldn’t,” She continued, grip trying to grasp onto the floor more as she persisted in an attempt to ground herself. “Instead, I.. I failed to warn the Kingdom of the incoming threat. The.. the Jellywalkers.”

Dark Cacao lifts his head upwards, taking his attention to Hollyberry as Caramel Arrow mentions the Jellywalker horde. His expression was.. cold, but not towards either cookie displayed in front of him. He was simply.. troubled greatly by whatever pain this horde had caused.

It is another few moments before Caramel Arrow speaks again.

“I ran.”

And that’s all she says. That’s all she says as Dark Cacao quietly begins to rise from his slumped form on the throne and take heavy steps towards her figure, stopping only to continue listening intently to her. He has no.. words. No proper words to tell her, to comfort her, to do anything.

Caramel Arrow completely collapses forward, both of her hands desperately fumbling at Dark Cacao’s long, purple cape. Instead of the cruel, blizzarding winds outside, the citadel would instead be filled with the tired, dolorous cries of the devoted soldier in front of the king himself.

“I RAN!” She repeated in shout, grip tightening as much as possible on the fabric she had managed to grasp. “I ran, and I failed everything.. everyone.. I failed all the things I swore my own life to protect!”

There’s no room for silence. Caramel Arrow won’t let herself get quiet. She was going to spill out all her guilt, all of the truth she began to suddenly gather about the situation. She was going to cry until she couldn’t anymore.

“I failed my colleagues, the other Watchers. I failed the people within a now.. now completely shattered kingdom. I failed my only brother..!”

She just managed to choke out the last word of that sentence, throwing a weak punch at the ground below her as Dark Cacao only listened on. His gaze was turned onto Hollyberry, eyes clearly upset and considerate of everything the younger cookie was desperately speaking about.

“And— and worst of all, I.. I failed you. I failed you. I failed my own king, I failed the kingdom he told me to protect, I.. failed everything I ever cared to devote my life to. I failed it all, I..”

Caramel Arrow lets out a weak noise as she finally lets herself get quiet, sobs still filling the large throne room.

Dark Cacao’s attention doesn’t leave Hollyberry as Caramel Arrow continues to cry and sputter weakly at his feet, expression only growing more tender as the situation completely settles into him. If his situation was not already incredibly saddening, the fact that his most devoted soldier is blaming herself for saving her own life is making it infinitely worse.

He is so, so proud of how she was truly devoted to his Kingdom, even while in exile, but.. she shouldn’t begin blaming herself for a situation that was utterly out of her control and skill level.

Dark Cacao’s eyes slowly and somberly close as Hollyberry’s attention is brought upsettingly to the floor.

It…

It was going to be a long, painful moment of silence before he could get himself to speak.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello again! I hope you have been healthy and carefree this time.

I've had a buddy bot in mind who has been a good friend to Megatron and Soundwave in the past, she healed Megatron after his fights and took care of Soundwave's Minicons when he couldn't.

And now with Megatron's betrayal and the Autobots hunting down all the Decepticons, she tries to fix all the possible damage that many cons get escaping from GH.O.S.T.

She keeps Soundwave calm when he tries to chase Megatron whenever he sees him.

But above all she is angry.

Angry that Megatron abandoned them. Angry to see all of his friends hurt. Angry that the Autobots are the "heroes" of the story. Angry that by joining the Autobots all the crimes you committed will be forgiven. Angry that even though this war started nothing has changed.

But she must stay calm, for Soundwave, her friends, and because if she gets out of control she would be able to disconnect Primus itself.

Buddy anger rivals many Cons going berserk. Not that many had seen it, only heard of tales of the eruptions.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the medic being friends with Megatron and Soundwave

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronain reader

TFE

Buddy was a new nurse when she met Megatron and Soundwave.

It was the end of her shift and walking back home when she spotted two mechs in an alley.

One of them looked heavily injured while the other was trying to help him.

Curse her bleeding spark.

And after that patchwork, Buddy found herself becoming friends with Megatron and Soundwave.

While she did have a job in a small clinic, she often used her skills to help Megatron and Soundwave heal properly from their matches.

It wasn’t like the clinic was missing her, it was always slow there and her friends needed her more.

Buddy’s profession reached more of the fighters and minibots who came in.

It led to her having more connections and many how owe her their debt, despite her saying it wasn’t necessary.

Buddy walking into the back door of the fighters’ rooms.

A larger mech blocks the entrance.

“Fighters only.”--Mech

“Oh, don’t worry I’m here for the injuries.”--Buddy

The larger mech steps forward menacingly.

“Fighters. Only.”--Mech

“Hey!”--Frenzy

Buddy looks behind the now open door to see Rumble and Frenzy.

“Buddy we were wondering when you’d show.”--Rumble

Frenzy looks at the larger mech.

“Is there a problem here?”--Frenzy

The larger mech grumbles.

“She is no fighter. She is not allowed here.”--Mech

The mech makes the mistake of placing a servo on Buddy.

“What’s happening here?”--Megatron

Buddy smiles seeing Megatron, Soundwave and a few more fighters at the door with their arms folded.

Megatron reaches over to Buddy and pulls her inside slamming the door.

Even with the horrible government and the world seeing like it was falling apart sometimes, things were good.

Things changed however, when the war broke out.

Buddy immediately stood by Megatron and Soundwave when it was time.

She understood that they were fighting for a future for all cybertronians and not for the elite.

It wasn’t a surprise that she ended up being the chief medical officer of the army.

She made sure that every Decepticon that came into her med bay was in the best shape they could be with the supplies they had.

Buddy patching up Rumble and Frenzy in the med bay.

“That should do it. All patched up.”--Buddy

The minibots hopped off the med bay stretching their servos.

“These servos are as good as new! Thanks Buddy!”—Frenzy

The pair leave with Ravage out of the med bay.

Buddy sighs a bit.

“Who’s next!”--Buddy

She opens the door to find a long line of patients.

“… Here we go… Welcome in! Let’s see those dents, shall we?”--Buddy

Buddy was not afraid to stand up for her fellow cons when needed.

A trait that many Decepticons admired while others worried about.

This seems to be the case many times with Megatron when he unleashed his fury on other cons.

Mainly with his Second in Command, Starscream.

Megatron Slamming Starscream into the ground.

Buddy racing to the fallen seeker before turning to Megatron.

“Megatron that’s enough! He’s had enough!”—Buddy

Buddy starts looking at some of the dents on his frame.

Megatron takes a step forward

“Step aside. He must pay for his insolence.”--Megatron

Buddy firmly stands in front of Starscream.

“No Megatron. Starscream has had enough of this. Starscream didn’t even have anything to do with today’s mission!”--Buddy

“WATCH YOUR TONE!”--Megatron

“NO! You can’t punch everything that annoys you or disagrees—"--Buddy

“SILENCE!”--Megatron

SLAM!

Megatron slaps Buddy across the other side of the main room.

Everyone in the room freezes as Buddy’s frame slid down the wall motionless.

Starscream just started at the frame with wide optics as Nova Storm and Skywarp slowly helped him up.

Both seekers were equally as shocked as their commander.

No one dares to move, not fully believing Buddy had just been thrown like a sack of lug nuts.

Megatron’s face morphs from anger to extreme regret as he finally thinks about what he just did.

“Buddy?”--Megatron

Buddy’s frame remained motionless.

Soundwave snaps out of it and races to Buddy’s side.

Buddy remained motionless in his arms.

Starscream straightens his back struts a bit before turning to his com.

“Buddy is down. Prepare a med slab immediately.”--Starscream

Soundwave glances at Megatron before picking up Buddy in his arms and racing to the med bay.

Starscream and the other Seekers glared at their leader before filing out of the room leaving Megatron alone.

Megatron looked down at his servos in disbelief.

After a few minutes, he slowly goes to his com.

“Prime… Its Megatron.”--Megatron

Buddy was in the med bay cleaning her tools when she heard about Megatron defecting.

She had to make sure through other Cons that what she heard was true.

Soon enough when Cons started disappearing, Buddy made sure to empty out the med bay from patients before carrying all the medical supplies she could and ran.

If there was one place those Autobots were going to look, it was going to be the Decepticon clinic.

She was not going to get caught anytime soon.

The medic had been on the run for a while before running into Soundwave and the mini’s.

Buddy staring at Soundwave.

“Soundwave?”--Buddy

Soundwave freezes before turning to see Buddy.

“Bud—”--Soundwave

SLAM!

Buddy tackled Soundwave to the ground in a frame denting hug.

She sniffles a bit holding him tighter.

Soundwave wordlessly hugs back; just glad his friend is okay.

The pair stood by each other since then.

Buddy made sure to keep her audial open for Soundwave and the mini’s rant as they would come back a bit roughed up.

Soon enough she did come across more Cons and still offered medical services if they were in need.

Many cons couldn’t believe that Buddy was still around and did take her offer.

Some would stick around longer than others.

Buddy remembered the day she waited for Soundwave and the minicons at their usual spot.

It had been hours before she got up and began looking for them.

There was no way they would abandon her��

But the possibility of them getting captured by G.H.O.S.T…

That had been the first night in a while that she had spent it alone.

It had also been the first time in a long time that she had screamed into the night.

Screaming for her friends.

Screaming for her team.

Screaming for the cause.

Screaming for the war.

Screaming for Megatron.

[miaoua3]

The WAY I RAN TO THIS AFTER I SAW your post about open request.

So here I go [ okay not not write if not comfortable] Mingyu "bestfriend/girlfriend going FERAL over mingyu tones abs calvin kelvin. She ruts in heat and ask mingyu if she could cum on his abs pls 😭😭

Can add some more plot accordingly I would love that. Thanks, I love love love to read your blogs!!

heya! of course i can, just one minor worry i have about this request.

you said “rut in heat” and idk if it’s my inner 13 year old who is thinking this, but it makes me wonder if you want me to write this as an omega verse?😭 if so, i have to disappoint- i do not like things like that (except the like bonded soulmate aspect of it ig but the sex details are just too much for me😭) so i will just write this as…normal verse?😭 idk anyway i hope that’s okay with you and that you aren’t too disappointed by it if it was what you asked for.

anyway, hope you enjoy this regardless!

Help Me Out, Buddy

Pairing: mingyu x f!reader

Genre: smut (MDNI), f!masturbation, oral (f! receiving), grinding, down bad reader, down bad mingy, friends to….something more?

Description: mingyu does a photoshoot for calvin klein. shirtless. it makes you salivate. and do more than salivate. so of course mingyu had to walk in on you doing the said thing.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

so here’s the thing-you were aware just how hot and sexy and indescribably perfect your best friend was. and sure, you may or may not have a crush on him, but you were sure you would never act on it or do anything stupid.

until.

a few weeks before it happened, you remember mingyu mentioning about some photoshoot or something, but did he really expect you to remember it? that man had photoshoots every two days, and so naturally of course you would forget him mentioning yet another one to you.

that is, until you saw the results.

mingyu. shirtless. a lot. and having his abs zoomed into.

and his abs. may god help you for you were about to sin for what you were about to do.

seeing how he was moving in the video, how his abs were flexing while he was raising his arms- and then the zoom in on his abs and crotch? it was enough to make you feel your panties dampen.

as you were rewatching the video again and again, you unconsciously started to slowly move your hips in a circular motion against your mattress, until you full on started to grind onto the duvet beneath you.

so here’s another thing- masturbating to the thought of your best friend is generally wrong. even more so when your best friend is someone like kim mingyu.

but after giving it all but 5 seconds of thought, you found yourself saying “fuck it” before reaching down to pull your shorts and panties down, before laying down on your bed, your fingers immediately finding your clit.

as you were watching the video for the nth time, you find your imagination running absolutely wild- mingyu between your legs, lapping on your juices, mingyu above you, fucking you so hard that you forget your name, mingyu beneath you, your knees on both side of his hips, sitting on his hard but still clothed cock while he’s fingering you, his long fingers hitting all the right spots until you squirt all over his abs.

so, here’s yet another thing.

mingyu has the keys to your apartment.

and he loves to unexpectedly drop by.

which seems to be happening right now- as you were now full on fingering yourself, your fingers trying to reach that sweet spot of your while moaning like crazy, your other hand completely abandoning your phone where the video was still playing, instead opting to cover your face in embarrassment due to moaning the name of your best friend.

which just walked through the door of your room, dropping the bag full of groceries down on the floor, his eyes glued to your heat where your fingers were playing with yourself.

the sound of bag dropping to the floor made you immediately snap your head to that direction, immediately trying to find the blanket to cover up yourself with, all while trying to sit up.

angrily (but more so embarrassingly), you yell at him “were you never taught to knock before entering a room!? what the hell!”, but mingyu just continues to stare at you with opened mouth and wide eyes.

feeling your face burn under his gaze, you cover your mouth with tour hand and look away, trying to find an excuse to explain what he just witnessed. it wouldn’t be as bad if you weren’t moaning his name just as he walked in through the door.

you hear him slowly approaching the bed, before he drops down to his knees on the floor in front of you, his huge and warm hands going to grab the edge of the blanket wrapped around your lower half.

you instinctively grab it too, pulling it closer to your body.

that is, before you look down at his eyes.

almost entire black, pupils blown with desire, desperately looking up at you before he speaks.

“please, let me have just one taste-just one taste and i-i- just one taste, please let me taste you, please, please-“.

and who were you to ever deny kim mingyu anything?

pulling him by the collar of his shirt, you pull him up before you smash your lips in one single hasty and messy kiss, before breaking it apart to pull down the blanket.

mingyu, ever the eager individual, doesn’t even have the time to process your kiss before he is dropping back down between your legs, kind of harshly grabbing your thighs to pull them on his shirt, making you fall down completely on your bad.

and then his lips are on you.

he’s sucking on your clit harshly and enthusiastically, before his tongue makes the switch to your hole, poking and prodding at it, sticking it in before swirling it around, before doing it all again.

to say that this got you moaning his name again is a total understatement.

but because you were already close to your high due to you playing with yourself, you felt your high creeping up on you faster than you would’ve wanted.

that’s why you find yourself grabbing him by his hair and harshly pulling him up, his mouth dropping while something between a moan and a gasp escapes his mouth.

and, i mean, you did promise him one taste, right?

you pull him for another quick kiss before you say against his lips “i want to cum all over your abs, lay down.”

mingyu, eager to just have you on him, does as you say, but not before taking off his shirt.

climbing over him, you find yourself in the position you were just imagining yourself in, the sight making you feel a little bit of your wetness slide down your inner thigh.

just as you reach to take his pants off, you suddenly remember something.

you have no condoms on you.

seeing the change in your face, mingyu asks you kind of breathlessly as well as worried “what is it? what’s wrong?”.

kind of pissed at yourself for not being able to predict future, you answer him “i don’t have any condoms here…so we won’t be able to…yknow…” you mumble the last part.

he immediately shoots back, not wanting to stop this any time soon, condoms be damned “we don’t have to have sex, yknow, there’s other things we can do that will still feel just as good as sex would”.

curiously, you ask him “like what?”

not answering you with any words, mingyu proceeds to unbutton his jeans before pulling them as well as his boxers down just enough for his cock to be freed.

and his cock? god, it had you salivating at the mere thought of having it inside of you. big, thick and veiny, it was resting against his stomach, almost reaching his belly button.

the sight of his cock resting against the tan skin of his abs, goosebumps raising on them either due to cold or something else, was enough to make you want to drop to your knees and have yourself choke on his dick.

breaking you out of your daydream, mingyu takes hold of your hips and move them a little bit backwards. confused, you look at him questionably.

looking at his dark eyes, his face serious, he answers “rub your pussy on my dick”.

heart jumping at the depth of his voice, you immediately lower yourself slowly down until his dick slides between your pussy lips.

the first contact makes you both gasp, your head being thrown back while his nails dig into the skin of your hips.

slowly, you start rolling your hips, his dick sliding up and down between the lips, his tip catching on your clit each time you slide down his cock.

his moans hit your ears, making you want to roll your hips even faster, just to make more of those beautiful sounds spill out of his mouth.

mingyu looks like he doesn’t know where to look at, jumping from your face to your hips suffocating his dick between his abs and your pussy. he finds himself suddenly babbling nonsense, just spilling out of him “fuck, you’re so wet, is enough to make me cum-jesus, if you roll your hips like that one time i really will be cumming in record time, stop it-“ he pauses halfway through to moan that important info.

but you seem to ignore his warnings, rolling your hips even faster, his thick cock sliding between your pussy lips, so wet and slippery that you have to press yourself down extra hard to feel the pressure against your clit.

and because of your earlier escapades, you feel your orgasm hit you so hard, it had you falling forward onto him.

seeing that he’s almost there too, you continue to move your hips at an animalistic pace, overstimulating your clit with the amount of pressure you’re putting on it.

and then mingyu is throwing his head back, a long and beautiful moan coming from the depth of his chest, his nails clawing at the skin of your hips so hard that you were sure it will leave scars for a few days.

the overstimulation, his beautiful face as he was cumming, as well as the constant pressure to your bundle of pleasure.

all of it paired together was enough for you to reach a new level of satisfaction.

because in one moment, you are watching mingyu’s beautiful face in pleasure as he reached his high.

and in the next, you feel a weird tingling sensation in your core.

right as you squirt all over your best friend’s abs, abdomen and dick.

mingyu watches in surprise as you soak his lower half and sheets, your face set in such a beautiful frown he gets the urge to watch it every day if possible.

as you both breathe rapidly, trying to regain your breaths, you just look each other in the eyes, your hands still resting on his chest while his slowly rub your hips.

yeah, friendship ruined, for sure.

(and you couldn’t be more thankful for it.)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

that’s it! hope you enjoyed it!🫶

[forever-rogue]

Joel and Reader finding an abandoned baby and Joel is conflicted, part of him wants to give it to someone else, but the other part wants to raise it with reader

AN | Okay, but I really liked this concept!

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The two of you were trekking through the woods, a tense silence between the two of you. You’d just had an argument which left neither of you feeling particularly good about what had been said. You wanted to try and settle down for a while, especially now that you had Ellie with the two of you and there was a good opportunity for you in Jackson; he was reluctant to get too comfortable in any one place. You didn’t blame him - it wasn’t easy for you either but you were willing to try.

You weren’t quite sure what to say now. All you knew was that you hated the idea that he was at you.

“Joel-”

“Shh,” he held up his arm in front of you, causing both of you to stop apparently. He held a finger to his lips as he looked around, eyes narrowed, “listen.”

You raised an eyebrow before trying to tune into what he was hearing. For a man with some hearing issues, he heard a lot more than you'd expect. Once you stilled, you heard the odd sound. Was that…crying?

"Joel?" you whispered, reaching for his wrist, "what is that?"

"I don't know," he didn't look at you but started walking to the source of the sound. His gun was at the ready as you fell into the step behind him.

He didn't stop until he was at the edge of the bushes near the clearing that had been up ahead. You swallowed thickly as he pushed through the brush, stopping as soon as he stepped into the clearing. You heard him inhale sharply as you almost tumbled after him. He easily wrapped an arm around your waist to help you up right.

He was staring at something on the ground and you followed his line of sight. You gasped just as he had as you saw the source of the sound. 

A baby.

"What the…" you trailed off as you pushed past Joel to get a better look at the small pastel pink bundle. 

While the poor thing was bundled up, you could see that it was a young baby, probably no more than a month or so old. Your instinct was to reach for it and pick it up, to shield it from the chill; at least it wasn't the dead of winter anymore so you had some hope that the baby would be okay.

"Stop," Joel reached out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to glare at him, "don't touch it."

"It's a baby, Joel," you snapped, "it's probably cold and hungry - someone clearly just left them there."

"It could be a set up or what if…" his mouth fell into a hard line as he shook his head. You pulled your hand out of his touch and picked up the baby, much to his chagrin.

"I'm not going to leave a baby out here," you hissed at him, clutching the small bundle to your chest, "whatever the reason they were left doesn't matter right now. And they're not infected - stop going to doomsday immediately."

"Look it over," his voice was gruff as you rolled your eyes at him. Fine. You were willing to give him that much. 

You sank onto your knees as you unwrapped the bundle and looked over the baby - a little girl. She was dressed in a thin onesie that you undid so you could check her over. She had big brown eyes and wisps of hair and chubby little cheeks, "she's okay. Just cold and hungry."

“You’re not seriously thinking about taking her back with us?” his eyes hardened as you looked at him in shock. You weren’t expecting him to welcome her with open arms, but you’d expected a little more compassion. This was Joel after all; he was rough around the edges but gentle and tender hearted. 

“I’m not leaving her behind,” you insisted, trying to remain as firm as you could, “no one gets left behind. That includes this innocent baby - she’ll die out here. We both know that.”

“What if someone comes back to look for her?” you both knew that was extremely unlikely, “what if they follow us?”

“Then they can come and find us and explain why they abandoned her in the first place,” you unzipped your jacket and put her inside to get her warm, zipping it just up enough so she wouldn’t be squeezed, “I’m not leaving her. That’s not negotiable. That’s not who we are, Joel.”

“Fine,” he held up his hands in mock surrender before taking a step back, “when this all turns to shit, don’t come running to me.”

“Joel.”

“Let’s get back,” he turned around without giving you another glance, “we’re already late.”

You were rooted in place as you watched him go, trying to fight back the tears that were pearling up. The baby cooed at you softly, looking at you with curious eyes which caused your heart to melt.

“It’ll be okay,” you whispered to her, “we’ll figure it all out.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You didn’t see much of Joel for the next couple of weeks. Which, to be quite honest, hurt a lot. You weren’t sure exactly what to call him; boyfriend felt too trivial and partner felt not enough. He was everything to you…so it cut like a knife when he made it a point to avoid you. And he couldn’t even lie about it - you’d seen him physically turn around and walk away when he’d spotted you somewhere. Several times. 

So while it sucked and you missed him desperately, you were focused on the baby that you’d come to have. You weren’t exactly sure what you’d call her in relation to either - but for the time being you’d settled on the name Olivia, or Ollie for short. 

Once she’d gotten checked out by one of the doctors back in Jackson, it was determined that she’d been about six weeks old and had likely been abandoned for most of the day before she was found. She was lucky that you’d stumbled across her when you did…or she might not have made it. 

You still weren’t exactly what you were going to do with her, but for now, you were keeping her. You’d never had much experience with babies or toddlers before the world arrived at its current state, and you definitely hadn’t expected the first opportunity to come along now. But somehow it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be and you sort of fell into it. 

You loved her, she’d won your heart from the first time you’d looked at her, and that was all that mattered. 

The rest would fall into place. Hopefully.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“What do you think?” you grinned at the baby swaddled to your chest as she babbled away happily, as though she understood what you were saying. You listened to her for a few moments before nodding in agreement, “you’re right. I’ll make pasta for dinner for myself and Ellie, and you’ll get a nice big bottle all to yourself.”

You couldn’t help beam at her as she smiled at you; you knew it probably wasn’t at you in particular but you liked the idea. Ellie hadn’t come by yet for dinner, but you knew she would soon; she was with you most evenings still. You felt bad for her in a way; with everything that had happened (or hadn’t rather) between you and Joel you felt like you were putting her through a divorce and forcing her to choose a side. But she didn’t view it that way…she was waiting for Joel to come to his senses. And you weren’t forcing her to pick either of you. 

You heard a knock on the front door of your small, but homey, little house, causing you to pick perk up. You dumped some pasta into the water, figuring it was Ellie being polite, “come on in, Ellie Bean!”

The door opened slowly and you didn’t pay it much attention until you realized that the girl was strangely quiet for once. You set down the wooden spoon before looking over and finding that it wasn’t Ellie that had come in at all. 

It was Joel.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say as you looked at him in surprise. He caught your eye and the two of you stared at each other silently for a few moments, “what are you doing here?”

His shoulder sagged in relief as he slowly made his way over to you, letting out a long sigh as he leaned against the counter. He decided that the fact that you didn’t flinch or scamper away was a good sign. The way you instinctively cradled your arm around the baby wasn’t lost on him. 

“I wanted to apologize,” he managed to choke out after a few moments, only the bubbling of the water filling the silence. You raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t say anything further. 

“For what?” oh yeah. You weren’t going to let him get away with this one. He caught your eye and a frown tugged down the corners of his mouth, “hmm?”

“I’m sorry for the way I acted,” despite the fact that it was hard for him to admit he was wrong, he wasn’t going to lie to you. Not to you - the best thing in his life, “the things I said and did. I shouldn’t have done it. it wasn’t right.”

“Okay,” you nodded as you stirred the pasta, fast feeling stinging and prickling at the back of your eyes. The two of you were silent as he watched you drain the pasta and set it back on the stove, finishing it off with sauce and cheese. You grabbed two bowls of the cabinet, along with utensils as you divvied up the pasta and set it down at the kitchen table. He didn’t move, surprised - and yet entirely unsurprised - by the way you didn’t hesitate to show kindness, “come on. Let’s eat…I know you probably haven’t been taking care of yourself, love.”

“Why?” he sat down across from you, pulling the warm bowl closer, his growling stomach betraying him. You knew exactly what he meant.

“Because I love you - you’re my family,” you focused your attention on the bowl so you wouldn’t immediately cry and lose it, “and you don’t just throw that away. Not even if things get a little out of sync or whatever.”

“I was scared,” he finally admitted, causing you to pause as you looked over at him, “I am scared.”

"Joel," you reached across the table for his hand and gently put yours on top of his. You gave it a reassuring squeeze before offering him a small smile, "me too. It's okay to be scared - you just have to talk to me. That's all. We'll always figure it out together, my love."

"At first it was just because of the immediate threat - what if she was infected or it was just a trap?" he leaned back in chair as you nodded at him to go on. You'd listen to him forever if he needed you to, "but that quickly turned into a lot more. It was everything."

“I’m not going to pretend like I know how you’re feeling or what you’re doing through,” you whispered sweetly, causing him to nod, “but I do know that I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what. I want to help - if you’ll let me.”

“I want you,” he swallowed thickly, “I…I want to tell you everything.”

“Then please do. It doesn't have to be tonight or even all at once,” you promised, “however you want to. Okay?”

“Okay,” you offered him a small smile that he returned. He felt like he hadn’t smiled in weeks. 

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you ate, the only sounds filling the room were forks hitting the ceramic bowls and the occasional sound from Ollie. She'd fallen asleep, probably lulled to slumber from your movements. You weren't lost on the way Joel's eyes kept drifting back to her.

Once you'd finished eating, you put everything in the sink, unsure of what to say next. Joel filled in the gap.

"Can I hold her?"

Your mouth formed a small o in surprise as you tried to see if he was being serious. You hadn't quite expected that. After a moment of contemplating, you nodded and slowly started to unbundle the sleeping baby from your chest. Ollie didn't wake up, only making a few small sounds instead.

Joel took her gingerly from your arms, holding her in his own and cradled her to his chest. He was experienced - practiced - even though it had been a long time. 

You could see the emotions fighting on his features as he trailed a finger over her chubby cheek. You didn't want to interrupt the moment and instead sat back down. 

"She's beautiful," he whispered softly, "she reminds me a little of…Sarah. She had these chubby cheeks too and just a mop of dark brown hair. I was so scared when she was born, so scared that I would fuck it all up. But then I took one look at her and it just kinda all made sense. I fell in love with her."

"I can't even imagine the stress and the excitement," it wasn't often that he brought up his daughter, you knew it was hard for him…the pain he must have gone through was unfathomable. The fact that he trusted you with this resonated within your heart, "everything all at once."

"Yeah," he let out a small sound, "it felt like it happened all over again when my wife left. I was so angry and mad but then I realized I couldn't do that - I had my baby girl to take care of. And it ended up being us, just us, until…she died."

"Joel-"

"Let me say it," he insisted, his voice thick with tears, "I have to say it at some point. It'll never be easy, but it's the truth. And Sarah will always be my baby."

 "Always."

"When we found her," he looked down and inhaled sharply, "I got mad. Mad that someone had this child and then just felt her to die. Scared that something was wrong with her…scared that would happen. That if we took her I would cause something to happen to her. That she would end up with the same fate as Sarah...or Sam or Henry.”

"That wasn't your fault," tears had rolled down your cheeks by this point and you wanted to do nothing but hold him, "it was never your fault."

"I know…but it took myself a long time to accept that," he confessed, "I've been thinking a lot about it lately…about her."

Ollie opened her big brown eyes as she blinked at him before smiling happily. Joel returned the smile, gently bouncing her so she couldn't become upset. 

"I've been thinking a lot about Ellie too," he caught your eye and he noticed how your face lit up at the mention of the young girl, "how I was so reluctant to let her in at first. But she managed to do it, just like you did, and she's family. Even if I don't tell her, I hope she knows I love her like she was my own."

"Trust me," you laughed lightly, "she knows."

"I love you," he caught you so off guard that you just looked at him, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water. You knew he loved you - that had never been once been something you questioned. But he’d never said three little words out loud either, “I’m sorry I haven’t said it. But I-I hope that…you know.”

“I know,” your lips formed a pretty pout that he wanted to kiss away as you nodded at him, “I know, Joel. I love you too.”

“I’m sorry,” he cleared his throat and you shook your head, “I shouldn’t have treated you like I did. I thought that maybe…maybe avoiding the situation might make it go away.”

“And just how often does that work?” there was a teasing lilt to your voice that caused him to chuckled softly.

“I know, Instead all I did was manage to push you away,” he leaned back and sighed, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“I missed you,” it was a gentle confession that made his heart swell, “I was trying to figure out how to approach you…you beat me to it.”

“It was just getting my head on straight,” he paused for a moment and let out a huff of amusement, “and Ellie helped. Girl wouldn’t leave me alone, but she was right.”

“She often is….but don’t tell her that, lest it get in her head.”

“I’ve learned that much,” the two of you shared shy smiles that turned into a bit of tender laughter. The man in question watched you with a reverent gaze that made you want to melt into a puddle, “what did you decide to call her?”

“Olivia,” you grinned, “more commonly known as Ollie.”

“I like it,” he looked down at Olivia called Ollie and felt his heart constrict. She was already back asleep, “what are…what do you want to do with her?”

“Ahhh, yeah,” you shrugged, “that’s the question of the hour, isn’t it? I don’t know. I wish I did but…. It’s hard.” 

“Tell me,” he softly encouraged you.

“I’ve never had a kid before let alone a baby,” you stated, which he already knew, “I feel like I have no clue what I’m doing and don’t want to mess anything up. I want her to have all the best things. But at the same time…I don’t want to let her go. I’ve already grown pretty fond of her.”

“I think you’ve done a great job so far,” he insisted and you felt shy under his gaze, “there’s no manual for this - especially not in his world - you just learn. You fuck it up, but you learn and move on. What matters most is…”

“Love,” you finished for as he caught your eye and nodded, “but Joel…what about…fuck, I hate sounding so pathetic, but what us? I don’t want to lose you or have you feel like you need to be here because of her or have you not want to be here because of her.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you knew from the look in his eye that he wasn’t kidding, “no matter what happens. I’m scared of all of this too, but I’m willing to try. If you want me to get on my knees and beg you for forgiveness, I will, baby.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive,” he looked down at Ollie before back at you, “let’s be scared together. I think we’ll figure it out. What do you say, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you laughed through the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, brushing them away with the back of your hand, “okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Together,” you really liked the sound of that, “we’ll get through it all.”

Before you could say anything else, the door almost slammed open as Ellie barged in, “hello family! What’s new?”

You looked at Joel, who let out a signature dramatic sigh, before both of you looked at Ellie. 

“A lot,” Joel couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed and you knew that Ellie already knew Ellie what had happened, “come and sit down, kid.”

“About time,” she helped herself to food, “you’re meant to be together - took you long to figure that out!”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you manage to keep your spirits high through a rough patch, Bradley is as supportive of your needs as ever. He's working hard to take care of you in every way, and when he comes home with some unexpected paperwork, it's your turn to be supportive of him.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff, mentions of smut, pregnancy discussion

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"It's funny to me that you think you're being coy right now," Bradley told Jake in the locker room. He was avoiding answering questions about his dates with Cat. Bradley knew for a fact that they went on at least two, because that's what you had told him. And he assumed that Jake or Cat had given you that information directly. 

"Some things are sacred, Bradshaw," he said as he applied his deodorant while Bradley dried his hair with his towel and started to get dressed. 

But you had also informed Bradley that the two of them had agreed to take it a little slow now, especially since Cat and Jeremiah were living with her Uncle Bernie. So as Bradley pulled on his underwear, he knew just what to say to bait Jake. "You fuck her yet?" he asked casually, barely able to keep a straight face. 

Jake rounded on him immediately, green eyes furious. "What the hell kind of question is that?" he hissed. "First of all, it's none of your business, but no. Second, you don't have to be so fucking crude about it, man. And third, I never asked you that when you were following Angel around the Hard Deck and all over base like a lost puppy."

Bradley erupted in laughter as he reached into his locker for his undershirt. "Chill, Hangman. I just wanted to see how serious you are. And furthermore, this is the first time you haven't been crude in your life. And further furthermore, you absolutely did ask me if I nailed my wife way back then, because you were mad she turned you down."

Jake stared off into space with his brow creased. "Huh. Well I am serious about Cat. And Jeremiah. But Hondo still gets a little riled up whenever he sees me. Been avoiding him on the tarmac like my life depends on it. And if I ever asked you for any sort of details about Angel, I deeply regret doing so now. Please, keep that shit to yourself."

"Happily," Bradley replied, thinking about your ass in your khaki pants and smiling. When he headed out to the parking garage, Jake walked with him. And when he got to his Bronco, he realized Jake had parked near him. And Cat was waiting for Jake, leaning against the passenger side door, looking at her phone. 

When she glanced up, she smiled and said, "Jake," with longing in her voice. And then she realized Bradley was there, too and straightened her posture like she was standing at attention. "Hi, Bradley."

Oh, they were both making it way too easy to fuck with them. Bradley grinned as he abandoned his Bronco for Jake's car instead. "How's it going? How's my little buddy, Jeremiah?"

She smiled a little cautiously. "He's great. Obsessed with dogs now from playing at your house."

"Yeah, well he's welcome any time," Bradley said, leaning against Jake's car. "Tramp loves licking crumbs off him. Actually Jake was just telling me all about your dates."

"Was he?" she asked quietly, and Bradley thought she looked pleased. Jake was glowering at him from the other side of the car, and Bradley caught sight of a car seat in the back.

"Oh yeah," Bradley said with a nod. "Jake only looks like an ass, but he's actually okay." Cat snorted, and Jake glowered harder. "Are you guys going to go pick Jeremiah up now?"

"Yeah," Jake said loudly. "Better get a move on."

But Cat just looked up at Bradley and said, "I'm trying to get him in the daycare program on base here, but I'm on a wait list. And the facility he's in now is across town, and it's really not that great. But it's affordable," she said with a bit of a shrug. 

Bradley nodded, giving up his original plan to mess with the two of them. He was pretty sure Jake would pay for a better daycare for her son if they were dating seriously. You'd told him a bit about Cat's ex husband and how she was in financial ruin. 

"Well, you have free babysitters," he told her softly. "Really good ones, too."

She laughed softly and leaned in a little closer. "Thanks. Yeah, top notch babysitters. Especially Tramp."

Bradley laughed, too, and then Jake cleared his throat loudly. "If the two of you are finished over there..."

"Later," Bradley told Cat with a grin. And when he walked around toward the Bronco, he winked at Jake and said, "Nice car seat, man."

Jake flipped him off rather discreetly, but he looked happy. When Bradley pulled his Bronco out of his parking spot, he noticed that Jake had walked around to the passenger side of his car. He and Cat were kissing, and Jake was once again holding his middle finger up behind his back for Bradley. 

When he got home, your car was already there. "Sweetheart," he called out as he walked inside. "I am on the cutting edge of the Jake gossip today." You were on the couch wrapped up in his undershirt and a blanket even though it was May, and you were eating a pack of cookies. "You okay?" he asked softly, but he already knew.

You nodded and met his eyes. "I got my period today." Your voice was bland and emotionless, but at least you weren't crying. You just looked exhausted and defeated. 

Bradley made a beeline to the couch and bent to kiss your forehead. "I love you," he promised as you looked up at him, the faintest smile on your lips. "I'll get your heating pad and some Advil? You want a glass of wine?"

"Yeah," you whispered. He didn't even take the time to remove his boots, and Tramp followed him from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen in search of supplies. 

"I'll walk you in a bit. Relax," Bradley coaxed, tossing a treat that the dog caught in midair. "Mommy needs a cuddle first." And it was like the animal listened to him, because a minute later, you were snuggled up on Bradley's lap along with Tramp and the heating pad.

"How was your day?" you asked softly with your eyes closed. Bradley wasn't sure what he should or shouldn't mention right now. He wanted to make sure you were doing okay, but he didn't want to upset you over your period. He wasn't upset about it at all. 

"My day was fine. Do you... want to talk about anything?"

You sighed. "If you're referring to my period? No, not really. I'm okay, I promise. Just a little disappointed, but I think that's mainly because it came a day late, and I was getting just the tiniest bit hopeful, you know?"

Truthfully, Bradley hadn't been keeping up with your cycle, but now that he did the math, you were most likely ovulating right when he got home from deployment. "That makes sense," he whispered, kissing your hair. But he had been too happy since he returned home to let this ruin his day. "But you still got me."

You snuggled in a little closer and kissed his neck. "What's your hot Jake gossip?"

"Well...." It was his time to shine. He always found out everything late or after the fact, and you always liked to pick on him for it. "He and Cat went to pick Jeremiah up from daycare. Together."

You yawned and mumbled, "Yeah, they've been doing that for the past week or so."

"Oh," he said, slightly annoyed that this wasn't news to you. "Well, he also told me he hasn't even slept with her yet," he added.

"I know. I think he's secretly afraid of Hondo kicking his ass."

"Oh. Well, Jake has a car seat for Jeremiah now. But I'm assuming you already know that."

"Of course I do. But this was a really solid effort on your part, Roo. I'm so proud of you."

He just grunted and helped you readjust your heating pad. "I'm supposed to play golf in the morning, unless you'd rather I stay here and make you breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I feel bad enough already. But after you and Jake play golf, we're going out to dinner with him."

"We are? When did this happen? I just saw him."

You grinned up at him and said, "I was just texting Cat. Jake found a kid friendly restaurant that he thought would be great for Jeremiah. I said you'd probably really like it too. There is apparently a playground inside."

Bradley was quiet for a moment as you ran your fingers up along his neck. "Okay... that does sound really fun. Are there swings? I could push Jeremiah on the swings."

"I think there might be."

"I'm in."

----------------------------------

You managed to get up and make Bradley breakfast even though you felt awful. But he spent Friday night cleaning the house after he got you in bed for the night with the heating pad, so you figured some scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel was the least you could do. 

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he moaned, as if you had made him a gourmet breakfast. "So fucking good." 

"Thanks for cleaning and doing the laundry," you said before you yawned. But Bradley collected you in his arms and held you. 

"Thanks for being the best person in the world," he replied, scooping you up and carrying you back to the bedroom while you giggled. "Now get back in bed and get some rest. We've got dinner and the Hard Deck later." 

Then he spun his cap backwards and climbed gently on top of you with a grin. "What are you doing?" you asked, but he cut off your words with his lips. 

"Loving my wife for a minute," he muttered, kissing you hard and parting your lips with his. You tasted his tongue as you moaned, and your fingers found their way to the short hair at the back of his neck. His mustache was really doing it for you, but as soon as you ran your tongue along it, Bradley was pulling away from you. 

"Roo," you whined as he rolled off of you and adjusted his pants. 

"I'll be back after lunchtime," he whispered, and just the sight of his hand on his cock through the fabric of his white golf pants had you pouting. "I love you."

You begrudgingly said, "I love you, too. Even though you're leaving me high and dry." Then you rolled over as he chuckled and left. And you thought about his hands gripping his golf club in those soft, sexy gloves until you were able to fall asleep again.

When you woke up hours later, you were starving and decided to eat a sandwich while you lounged on the back patio. You tossed pieces of crust to Tramp and then you wandered back inside, running your finger along the piano keys as you went. The house was too quiet, and it gave you that melancholy feeling that you got when Bradley was deployed. 

For the briefest moment, you imagined a baby in your arms. Someone to keep you company while he was away. A little one to grow up knowing what it felt like to miss their dad and then be reunited with him over and over again. Someone else for Bradley to dote on. You swallowed down the miserable feeling before it could take over. A baby was not more important than your marriage. A baby did not need to happen at this moment. A child would be welcomed at any time, not just right now. 

You drew a bath, and you were barely in there for more than five minutes when Tramp jumped up from the bath mat and ran for the front door. 

"Sweetheart?"

"In the bathroom," you called, and a second later Bradley was in the room with you. "How were the guys?"

"The usual," he grunted as he knelt on the mat and dipped his fingers in the water. "How was your morning?" he asked, keeping a totally innocent expression on his face as he stroked your breast just under the water's surface.

"Missed you. Got myself a little sad, because it felt like a day when you were deployed." 

Bradley tossed his cap on the floor and said, "I'm right here. I'm yours for the rest of the day. The rest of the weekend. Until we have to go to work on Monday."

"I know," you said, your voice sounding so small as you squeezed your eyes shut. "Will you go see Dr. Genevieve with me next week?"

He answered immediately as his hand found yours. "Of course. I haven't been to therapy in years. It'll be good."

You gaped at him. "You've seen a therapist before?"

"Yeah," he replied with his brow scrunched. "College was a very rough time for me without my mom. And Mav pulled my papers. And I didn't feel like I really belonged anywhere. I never told you that?"

You were just in awe of this man and his notebooks and his open honesty right now and the fact that you were always learning more about him. "No. But I'm really proud of you."

He smiled softly and blushed. "We can go see Dr. Genevieve together. We can do everything together. But you're not allowed to make fun of me if I have more fun at the restaurant tonight than the one year old."

You shook your head and said, "It would come as a surprise to literally nobody."

----------------------

"I don't know why he's fussing so much. He's usually a good eater," Cat said, cutting up some food into tiny pieces while Jeremiah remained on the verge of tears in the high chair. Bradley noticed that Jake was looking a little stressed out, presumably because Jeremiah wasn't enjoying the restaurant as much as he had hoped. Jake had spent all morning at the golf course talking about how excited he was.

"Let me see here," Bradley murmured, picking up the rainbow colored fork and tickling Jeremiah with his fingers while he held out a bite of food. In an instant he was laughing, and then he had a mouthful of food. "You love it here, right kiddo? We played on the swings. We drew on the walls. Your mom let you eat dessert first, and Jake won you a porcupine in the claw machine. Now eat up."

"You're incredible," Cat whispered. "No wonder he likes going to your house so much."

"Nah," Bradley said as Jeremiah took hold of the fork for himself. "It's all her and the way she can read a board book like it was written by a Pulitzer Prize winner." He leaned in and kissed you as you beamed at him. Bradley had spent the better part of an hour after your bath rubbing your back while reading some of his notebook entries to you. It always really seemed to make an impact where sometimes his verbal skills escaped him. But when he wrote his feelings out on a piece of paper, it made all the difference in the world.

"Are you coming to the Hard Deck after this?" you asked, turning to look at Jeremiah as he ate. "Well, not you, little man."

"Nope," Jake said with a cocky grin on his face and his arm draped across the back of Cat's chair. "We're going to watch the newest Scooby Doo movie back at my place and enjoy some of the chocolate chip cookies that I definitely made myself and did not buy at the store."

Cat laughed, and Bradley watched as she leaned in to whisper something to Jake as she brushed his hair back from the scar on his forehead. "They look happy," you muttered, taking Bradley's hand in yours underneath the table. 

"Yeah," he agreed, carefully wiping Jeremiah's face as Cat kissed Jake like they were completely alone. "I'll roast him later for this. He always tells me we're disgusting."

"We are a little bit disgusting, Roo."

"Never said we weren't."

When you and he left the three of them a little while later and headed to the Hard Deck, Bradley was in an absolutely disgusting, soppy mood. You were singing along so badly to his favorite playlist while his hand rested on your thigh, and he was just so fucking proud of you for not letting your period take over your mood. Especially when all he wanted was to make you happy, and he knew it would have crushed him if you were being hard on yourself while he doted on you.

When he pulled into the parking lot and put the Bronco in park, he said, "I don't understand how you can sing so badly when you make the prettiest sounds I've ever heard in bed."

"Hey!" you complained with a laugh as you crawled across the seat and onto his lap. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?"

"I only have the nicest things to say about you and your singing voice," he promised with an obnoxious smile as you pushed his head back against the headrest and started to gently nibble on his neck. Soon you were sucking a little harder as your hand trailed up and down his bicep. "Oh shit. That feels great. Let's go home."

You moaned softly and licked a trail up to his ear before whispering, "Nope. You tease me, I'm going to tease you right back." Then you rubbed yourself against his cock, and Bradley tried to get his arm around you, but you were already jumping down from his lap to the parking lot. 

"Hey!" he called out with a laugh as you ran ahead of him while he tried to lock the Bronco doors. When he jogged inside, you were already at the bar chatting with Penny. He made eye contact with you, and you smirked. 

Bradley strolled up behind you and pressed himself against your butt, kissing the back of your neck. "Whenever you decide you want to behave, I'll be at the pool table," he whispered. 

You just laughed and said, "You know that's not going to happen."

"Well, come say hi to Nat anyway," he added, laughing softly against your neck. Penny was looking at the two of you together with the softest expression, and Bradley figured that was how he usually looked at you, too.  "You know, I can remember the early days before the two of you were together," Penny said over the buzz of conversation. "All the longing glances and sneaking off together." Bradley set his hand on your hip and said, "Hey, we thought we were being pretty discreet." "Nice try," Penny said with a laugh as she slid two beer bottles across the bar.  "Were we not discreet?" Bradley whispered as you and he walked toward Nat. You beamed up at him. "I guess not." He watched you walk into his best friend's open arms for a hug. And now he was thinking about every way he could be less than discreet with you tonight. You kept touching him, just some fleeting brushes of your hand to his abs or arm while you chatted with the others, but you were relentless.  When the beers were empty, you took his bottle and said, "I'll take these back up to the bar, and then I'm running to the ladies' room." Bradley just grunted as you squeezed his bicep. As soon as you disappeared down the hallway, he dug his phone out of his pocket and sent you a quick text. Meet me outside at our special spot? He waited and waited but got no response. However, when you reemerged from the hallway, you caught his eye and then continued toward the exit. Bradley was in the middle of conversation with Javy about golfing when he suddenly said, "Hey, man, excuse me for a minute."

Bradley pushed his way through the crowd, and once he was back outside in the cool, dark night, he turned and ran toward the steps at the far end of the deck. As soon as his shoes hit the sand, you were reaching out for him. 

"Been a while since we did this," you told him, your voice filled with laughter as he backed you up against the deck post. 

"Too long," he agreed, letting his lips meet yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck. It was amazing how kissing you and just touching you made him feel so good inside. The feel of your kisses was a comfort that he knew by heart, and every curve of your body fit his hands perfectly. His fingers were inside your shirt, his thumbs gliding along your ribs and up to your bra.

You moaned into his mouth, pressing up on your toes and pulling him closer. When he broke the kiss to breathe, you whispered, "I have my period though."

"I know. Just wanted to make out with my fucking hot ass wife. Penny made me nostalgic."

His rough hands were on your lower back, and your head was tipped against the post. Bradley worked his lips along your neck, collar bones and cleavage as you said, "This feels just as good as the first time. Maybe better."

"Definitely better," he murmured. "You're in love with me now."

---------------------------

You had no shame. Your outfit was a wrinkled mess, and your lips were puffy when you returned to the pool table some thirty minutes later. Bradley's hair looked like he'd been outside during a natural disaster, and Penny smirked at him when he got two more beers. 

But it didn't matter, because you were so happy. So you let the guys pick on Bradley while you laughed into your beer bottle. And when you got home, you let him lure you into the shower to have sex at one in the morning where he made you cum so hard, your echoing voice scared Tramp. And maybe the sex was better when you weren't trying so hard to get pregnant. And maybe listening to him read his notebook to you every night was doing more than you originally thought.

When you got to work on Monday morning, Bickel was waiting for your help with his most time sensitive projects. "Your ideas are always so refreshing, Lieutenant Commander." 

And when you sat in the lab all afternoon, Cat came over at one point and simply said, "You were right about Jake."

And then Bradley met you for thirty minutes where he got to meet Dr. Genevieve. You told her that you were having a good day even though you got your period, and the three of you just chatted a little bit. 

But you should have known that by the end of the week, you'd be feeling a little different. You were at home on Friday, already lounging on the couch and looking at vacation destinations for your first anniversary in November when Bradley walked in holding two envelopes.

"We need to talk." 

You popped up on the couch and eyed him carefully. "About what?"

"Two things." He struggled out of his boots at the front door as he said, "Admiral Dean's court-martial has a date scheduled. And there's also an upcoming special detachment."

The court appearance for Dean and Slayer was something you figured would be happening soon. But a special detachment? You weren't sure if you were ready to hear about it. "Just tell me."

Bradley dropped down on the couch next to you and gave you a quick kiss. "June 9th," he said, handing you the first envelope. You scanned along, reading the dates and times, and sure enough, Bradley would have to appear in full dress uniform in court that day. 

"Okay," you murmured, "now tell me about the detachment."

He kissed you again and then again, and you realized he seemed a lot more antsy about this bit of information. "Here." He placed the second envelope in your hand, but the paperwork had almost no information on it. And you were surprised to see that it had a classification code above what you were currently privy to.

"This tells me nothing, Roo."

"I realize that," he replied, running his hands through his hair. "It's something top secret. I wouldn't get any of the details unless I'm selected." He turned to look at you with his elbows propped on his knees and his forehead cupped in one hand. "But, Baby Girl... I really want to do this. I think I kind of need to."

And you understood exactly what he meant without him elaborating further. He still thought he needed to prove himself after being named the spare by Admiral Dean, and this was probably the kind of mission that would get his head on straight again and bring back his confidence. But this was also the kind of mission that would leave you at home, alone and worried. Because if he wasn't one hundred percent in the right head space, it could spell disaster. 'Top secret' meant highly dangerous. But it also meant only the most skilled pilots and weapons systems officers would be chosen to participate.

You swallowed down your fear and nudged his bicep until he leaned back and welcomed you onto his lap. "If you want to do it, then I hope you get chosen." You hated that your voice shook and tears filled your eyes, because you wanted to be encouraging for him. 

"Come here," he whispered gently, and you sobbed quietly as he held you in his arms. "It'll be okay. I might not even get selected. But if I do, it'll still be okay."

"I know," you said, sucking in a deep breath. You hated that his confidence had been shaken in this way, but he was among the best, and you were already sure he'd be going. You could feel it in your bones. 

-------------------------

I'm hoping Dean and Slayer get what they deserve. And also up next, Roo and BG visit a new bar they've never been to before with an agenda they've never indulged in before. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[makeandshift]

Hasan S/O // after a night out

as requested by this lovely anon ❤️ this ended up being way longer than i expected, so i hope you all like it 👉👈

He was at his desk, scrolling through the seemingly endless stream of news websites he had favourited and checked on daily. According to his self-imposed, overly strict schedule, he was supposed to be in bed by now, but he could never bring himself to sleep if she wasn't home. It was like he couldn't turn his brain off unless he was 100% certain that she was safe, and when she was out with friends, like she was tonight, he worried even more.

Kaya perked up in her bed behind him before Hasan even heard the front door open, and the large dog was already halfway out of the room before he had gotten out of his seat.

"Hey Kaya-baby," he could hear her say, almost squeal out, from the hallway.

And sure enough, there she was, one hand attempting to get her shoes off, while the other petted their dog. The relief he felt always surprised him, like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders the moment he saw her again. He was so far gone for her.

"Hey Has,"

"Hey sweetheart," he replies, smiling down at her when she wraps her arms around his neck and leans up for a kiss.

From the mischievous twinkle in her eyes, the light flush on her cheeks and her slightly messed up hair he could tell that she was nicely buzzed, not enough to cause a horrible hangover the next morning, but definitely more drunk than she usually got.

"You had a good night?" He asked, already beginning to steer them towards the stairs as she refused to let him go, arms wrapped tight around him and face tucked in under his chin. She mumbled a vague reply, the slight slur of words muffled by his shirt as she nodded.

Kaya trailed along behind them, occasionally nudging her head against her owner's legs in an effort to get more attention from her. They managed to get up the stairs with close to no issues, other than Hasan occasionally scolding Kaya for getting in the way. It barely seemed to make an impression though because once he had his girl sitting down on the bed, Kaya was immediately there sitting at her feet, getting all the love and attention she had been asking for.

"I swear to god, this dog," Hasan grumbled as he dug around to find the shirt of his that she always loved to sleep in.

"Don't talk about our daughter like that," she chided, leaning down to shower Kaya with affection. "You just wanna get some cuddles, don't you baby," she cooed. He knew he wasn't any better when it came to the baby talk, but it still amused him to no end whenever she spoke to their dog like that.

He handed her the shirt, kissed the crown of her head and made a move to leave the room, after all the front door had to be locked, his PC was still on and he was sure her shoes were still lying abandoned in the hallway. But the moment he pulled away, her hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back towards the bed.

"Don't go," she whined, puppy dog eyes at the ready as she pouted up at him.

"Just need to lock up and all that. I'll be right back," he said. "Besides, you need to get changed."

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and murmuring a 'fine'.

"Back in two minutes," he promised, kissing her forehead and squeezing her hand as reassurance.

Two minutes turned into five because his desk was a mess, filled with empty drinks bottles and the plate from dinner he hadn't bothered to put away yet, and on top of that Kaya needed to be let out for the final time of the night.

When he returned to the bedroom she was already buried under the blankets, face hidden in his pillow and duvet pulled up to her chin. Wordlessly he walked to the ensuite, grabbing her toothbrush and a glass of water because he knew there was no way she was getting up now.

"Here, brush your teeth, sweetheart," he held out the toothbrush expectantly, almost like a parent would to a young child. "You'll thank me in the morning," he added when she took it from him with a look on her face that was a mix of sleep and grumpiness.

In the time she brushed her teeth, still with that scowl on her face, he managed to strip down to his boxers, put away his clothes and hers, and brush his own teeth. Once she had gulped down her water, he took the toothbrush and glass from her, quickly putting them away in the bathroom before getting into bed beside her.

"Jesus Christ, how are your feet still this cold?" he almost yelled when she cuddled up against him, her icicle feet brushing up against his shins. She just giggled in reply and shrugged, resting her head on his pillow beside his as she clung onto him.

"You're my heater," she stated plainly. "Kaya is if you're gone." she added, followed by a yawn.

Hasan just turned his head, kissing her forehead a few times as he felt her melt into him.

"Love you," he whispered.

"Love you more,"

[starless-nightz]

I have wisdom to share regarding Lion wife au (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

I imagine Lioness! reader having a human caretaker that basically taught her the ways of being human, like, telling her the rights and wrongs and basic common knowledge that all humans have.

I like the idea of Lioness! reader being an abandoned cub and getting picked up by a random human then one day, the human caretaker comes home and sees a literal child with the same features of the “cat” they adopted just two days ago (cat distribution system needs some tweaking)

“So, you’re actually a lion that can transform to a human? “

“Mhm.”

“Oh.”

“Well, I’m still gonna care of you.”

The human caretaker takes care of ‘lil Lioness! reader ‘till she grew up. The human caretaker didn’t expect her “car” to suddenly become so muscular and tall at just a span of 5 years. It was around that time when Lioness! reader decided to leave to train herself, like, probably leaving to Sumeru since that’s basically the equivalent of a rainforest in Teyvat. Then few years later she comes back to Fontaine, becomes a duelist, then meets Arlecchino.

I can imagine Arlecchino not knowing about this ‘til one day she was just having a stroll with Lioness! reader when Lioness!reader spots her human caretaker. After a long time of not seeing them, Lioness! reader had nearly forgotten how attached she is to them.

Arlecchino sees her wife suddenly leave her side and sneak up to a person that Arlecchino is not familiar with. Lioness! reader startles the unfamiliar person, picked them person up in her arms, hugging the person, nuzzling to them, her tail flicking back and forth signifying a playful mood- just being more expressive than she usually is. As far as Arlecchino knows, Lioness! reader haven’t been that affectionate to her in a extent that she’ll do such things in public.

Yeah, this is just a scenario where Arlecchino gets jealous over Lioness! reader’s technically “parent”.

OKAY I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS??? LIKE THIS IDEA IS SO SILLY????

I can imagine cub! reader was abandond by her mother and pride cause she had the least chance of survival, so when her human caretaker found her, thinking she was just a kitty, they took her her.

Lioness! reader first transforms into her more human form in her caretakers home while they were away, i can imagine the caretaker cant have children so they gladly kept lioness! reader.

When lioness! readet was a teenager, she was able to speak human language perfectly, but she knew she had to train herself, so she left home to Sumeru where she might find other lion-hybrids like her.

Lioness! reader came back to Fontaine many years later, being a dualist until she met Arlecchino, retiring and instead training and taking care of the children from the House of the Hearth after she married.

Lioness! reader tried to find her caretaker but they moved, so there was no way to find them, until one day she smelled their scent while on a walk with her wife.

She left Arlecchino to make sure it was really her caretaker, the moment she saw her caretaker she knew it was her.

She sneaked up behind them, picking them up while saying boo. The caretaker was so happybto see her baby, now a full grown lioness who is so much bigger then her.

Lioness! reader immediately introduced her caretaker to her wife, her caretaker was a bit intimidating by Arlecchino, but they were happy that their little cub finally found someone she loved.

Arlecchino felt a bit ackward because she was jealous of her wifes caretaker, but shes never gonna admit that she was jealous.

[fandoms--fluff]

Hello I just wanted to ask if you can do one where Hope has a little sister is another daughter of Hylie and Klaus is named Crystal Mikaelson, she is the light of Hope's eyes and she is the key for Hope to turn on her humanity crystal age is 6 months

The Little Key

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson

Warnings: swearing, thats all

A/n: I did change the oc name to just y/n, cause that's what I'm used to writing and the age is a bit bumped up to around almost a year old to fit better with the fic, but she's still female. I hope you like it 💗

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Josie bounces you in her arms with one of her hands on the back of your head while you're crying your eyes out. Your sobs and crying are silent, wanting your big sister and everyone can tell you miss her even if you can't speak coherently yet.

You remember the feeling of another woman but she's been gone a long time. Now it's only Hope, your big sister, you have that same feeling with.

Josie holds you close and stands up from the couch in the living room, trying to quiet and calm you down a bit. Lizzie, Kaleb, MG, Finch, and Cleo are the only other ones in the room. They're all standing or sitting, trying to come up with a plan to get Hope's humanity back.

They hear heels clicking on the hardwood floor, "Hmm, I can help you with that. Stop trying" Hope walks into the Library with her arms crossed.

She glances at you for a moment before quickly moving her vision over to everyone else standing up now. Cleo starts a spell on her, but Hope picks up on it straight away and knocks the witch out with an easy spell. The older witch falls back onto the couch, unconscious.

"Hope, what are you doing here?" Josie asks, hiding your face under her jean jacket so you don't see any other incidents that may come.

"Do I need a reason to come back to my old school?" Hope rhetorically says.

You let out a loud whine, tears subsiding, hearing your sister's voice and wanting to go to her. You manage to escape from under Josie's jacket and make a grabby hand toward Hope while your other hand is holding onto Josie's shirt collar.

"What about your baby sister? The old you would have never been this unthoughtful" Josie exclaims, tightening her grip as hard as she can without hurting you.

Hope laughs with a scoff mixed in, she says, "This is your big plan? Saying some tiny touching thing about my sister and then insulting me? Heh, you can do better".

She started to walk over to the brunette twin. Lizzie moves quickly and stands in front of you both.

"What? You really think I'd hurt my own sister and the girl I had the smallest crush on for a measly week?" Hope chuckles at the taller girl.

She raises her hands and snaps the heretic's neck effortlessly before she could answer. After, she casts an immobilization spell on everyone except you.

Vamping over, Hope takes you into her arms and leaves the school before the spell wares off.

All of your tears immediately subside and your breathing levels out as you cling to the tribid.

She walks into the abandoned Mikaelson mansion that your guys' family used to live in for around two years. She's been staying in the house since a week after she turned her humanity off.

Hope walks up the staircase after locking the door and enters the room which she's taken, which is Klaus', or used to be anyways.

She puts you down on the bed and starts pacing back and forth. A second later you raise your hands up, wanting to be back in your sister's arms.

"What the hell is wrong with you, why'd you take her. There was absolutely no reason to, ughh. No, no way am I turning the damn thing back on. I see what your doing" Hope rambles to herself and her mind trying to get her to flip it back on, ignoring your pleas to be back in her hold.

"Hhh-o,mmhh" you whine, not being able to pronounce it.

You keep trying over and over, not being able to get it right, and Hope paying no mind to your babbling.

She can already feel her switch flittering between off and on, but she pauses as soon as she hears the word that comes out of your mouth.

"Ho...Hop... Hope" you finally pronounce correctly and yell out to your sister.

"What'd you just say?" She walks over and finally picks you up from the made bed.

"...Hope," you say again.

She closes her eyes, trying to fight off her switch, but after some time it was no use. Opening them back up slowly, she looks down at you in her grasp, holding onto a lock of her wavy auburn hair.

"Hey y/n/n, I'm sorry. I'm here now sweetie" Hope holds your tiny frame against her tightly, not wanting to let go.

You lay your head on her collarbone with a hand still in her hair, content and happy being back with your big sister.

"You said your first word" she whispers into your hair and kisses your head.

[fairlyang]

Fun II 🕷️

ghostface!miguel having his way with you once again

w/c: 2.1K

pairing: ghostface!miguel x nerdyfem!reader

tags: 18+ smut. mention of murder, blood, knives. innocent reader, miguel is a perv, eating out, getting caught

part one

It took two full days for someone to find the bodies stacked on each other, given the frat house was huge and the guys only cleaned up the kitchen and living room.

But because the girls were in costumes and the guys told the police they had a Halloween party two days prior, it was physically impossible to find out who did it.

All they could really do was just have guards for them outside the frat house not knowing this was all done just for the killer to be with the one he loves.

And the cops specifically told them, no more parties. But what did the frat guys do anyway?

They threw a party on Halloween because of course they had to.

You were a hot mess and grieving terribly, two of your closest friends were murdered at the party they dragged you to, how were you suppose to feel?

Well according to your last remaining friend, why not go back to the murder scene for the Halloween party to have some fun?

You called her crazy to which she just waved you off and took you to a Halloween store to get a sexy costume.

You decided on Harley Quinn, with the "Daddy's lil monster" shirt and the half red half blue booty shorts. You decided to not go with the wig because they looked awful so you got some temporary pink and blue hair dye and prayed it'd be fine.

Meanwhile Miguel was preparing his ghostface attire for its final use while looking at his assortment of knives but keeping his buck 120 close to him.

It was finally time for the party, and you were all dressed up, hair up in two pigtails walking in with your friend who was in a Cat Woman outfit.

She immediately went off to do her own thing which bummed you out but there wasn't much you could do except go off to a quieter part of the house.

And with Miguel's luck he quickly saw her go into a room with a guy. Only makes his job easier.

He followed them and waited outside, just a good thirty seconds before opening the door and closing it shut before sneaking up on them already making out, somehow unaware of his presence.

He hopped on top of the bed pulled the man by his shirt and stabs him in the back. He spat out blood on top of your friend and right before she was about to scream, Miguel took the knife out and leaned forward, stabbing her tongue.

Her mouth made gurgling noises, still attempting to scream but just making herself choke on her own blood instead. He pulls his knife out and gets off the bed, stabbing boy toy once more for good measure before cleaning off his knife with the dude's shirt and walking towards the door.

He opens it and quickly closes it, before stuffing the knife into his robe pocket. He then walks off, moving past bodies in search for wherever you were hiding this time.

He walked all over the place, not finding you. He even checked off to the backyard with no luck.

He then stopped and walked over to the study room because surely there wouldn't be anyone in here.

He opens the door and of course there you were. He sighs and you look up with a puzzled expression prompting him to take his mask off, "Just me pretty girl." He says, waving his mask before closing the door shut.

"Hi Miguel!" You greet sweetly and give him a little wave.

His heart beat rapidly and he knew there was nothing from stopping him from being with you now. You could be all his.

"Abandoned again angel?" He pouts and you shrug as he walks close to you, admiring your costume.

How tightly the shirt fit and how those shorts were barely covering anything. Your thighs looked so gorgeous against that leather couch and there was nothing more he wanted them to be between them.

"Getting used to it by now." You joke making him chuckle as he takes a seat next to you.

"You look as gorgeous as ever." He says as he takes a seat right next to you, letting his leg barely touch yours.

"Thank you! Came as ghostface again huh?" You say turning your body to face him, crossing a leg over the other driving him insane.

"Yeah didn't feel like getting a new costume. What don't like masked killers?" He says as he looks at how those pigtails looked.

How pretty they would look in his hands while you su-

"I feel like everyone's a masked killer nowadays! Maybe Superman would've looked good on you." You answer innocently not thinking of how Miguel would take this compliment.

"Not as the joker then?" He whispers in your ear, wrapping his right arm over your shoulder.

You felt your face heat up as he grazed along your skin, memories coming back from the last time he caught you alone. How his fingers felt.

"M-maybe as the joker." You mumble, looking down at your boots to avoid his gaze, feeling suddenly shy and like wanting to hide.

"You're just so sweet." He whispers and leaves a soft kiss below your ear making your heart race.

"And so pretty." He murmurs leaving another kiss and bringing his left hand down to your thigh.

You gasp as he squeezes but quickly bite your lip, too embarrassed to say anything. "Y'know I haven't stopped thinking of you. I never do honestly." He admits, nibbling on your ear gently before pulling away and continuing, "but after last time it's been even worse."

"W-Why?" You stutter, eye fluttering as his left hand caresses your thighs gently while his right was trailing along your neck.

"Because I might be falling in love with you angel." He murmurs making you shake and almost let out a whimper.

His left hand was rubbing circles against your inner thigh as his right was nearing your right breast. "M-me? Why me?" You stutter and he sighs.

"It's always been you pretty girl, your friends just didn't want you near me for some reason." He says and leaves more kisses down your neck as you breathed heavily.

"S-Said you were p-picky." You mumble and lean your head back as his hands get closer to where you needed them.

"They lied." He spat before clearing his throat, "they didn't know me."

"But I'd love for you to get to know me." He says, now coming back up to look at you.

You bite your lip innocently thinking of what to say but for Miguel it only made his cock grow hard especially with the way your eyes were looking at him. God he needed you.

"What do ya say pretty girl?" He whispers, hoping for best case scenario if not he did all those murders for nothing.

You slowly nod making him grin, taking his left hand from your thighs and brings it up to cup your cheek. Your cheeks were rosy and your eyes had a new tint in them. Arousal?

His assumption was answered when you squeezed your thighs together and looked away from him. He looked down at your thighs and nearly groaned, you were already driving him so crazy. Unknowingly too.

He leans in, kissing you so gently as if you'd break if he were to full on make out with you. You kissed back and melted into his touch, practically fitting between his arm perfectly. Like you were made for him.

And as much as he wanted to take it slow with you and at your own pace he needed to taste you.

So he pulled away and let go of you making you pout, stinging his heart for a few seconds while he dropped down to his knees in front of you. You gasped as he reached up to undo your shorts with haste, "M-Miguel-"

You lift yourself up and he slides them off all the way down. He then spreads your legs apart making you whine while he salivated looking at your pair of red lacy panties. He looked up at you and you had such an innocent look on your face, almost needy.

He could tell you needed his mouth just as much as he needed to taste you. And he wasn't going to wait for confirmation.

He leaned in and left a soft kiss on your clit making you whimper and buck your hips up, poor girl already needing more.

So he gave it you.

He went down and licked up your clothed slit until he got to your clit and with a swift motion moves your panties to the side and starts sucking on your clit voraciously making you cry out above him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and went down to get a better taste and you were so soaked, he had barely touched you and you had drenched your panties. My perfect girl, he thought to himself as he lapped at your folds and brought a hand down to his hard on.

You brought your hands down to his hair as you felt new sensations you've never felt before and were deeply glad it was Miguel who was making you feel good.

Even after all your friend's wanting you somehow ended up with a little crush on him. Because of their words you didn't think it would ever be mutual and kept away. Clearly they lied with the way he was practically eating you out like a starved man.

Your hands gripped onto his curls while he moaned against your pussy, never having tasted anything so sweet and perfect. You tasted better than he remembered and he's happy his plan worked for the better.

"Miguel — feels s-so good-" you moan and buck your hips into his mouth.

He brings his hand to your pussy and goes back up to suck on your clit while he teased your hole with his finger. You whimpered and your poor cunt squeezed against thin air as he'd pull his finger away at the perfect moment.

"Miguel please- I promise I'll be your good girl again." You whimper making him groan against you.

Those dirty words coming from such a sweet innocent girl. He was falling even harder.

He slipped two fingers inside, your walls gripping them as he slowly pumped them inside you. "Fuck!" You cry out and lay your head back to the couch.

He then stops moving and let's you adjust as you pleased before he slowly started pumping them inside you, wanting to prep you because he needed to be inside you tonight.

He flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue while his digits started fucking you faster only increasing your moans and how tightly you'd hug his fingers. His good girl.

You let out more moans along with dirty words which only made his pants feel tighter and his pace increasing. He wanted to see you on your knees so fucking badly. You'd look even prettier with his cock in your mouth. Probably won't be able to take all of him given your inexperience but he wants to teach you and be your first everything.

He hadn't even realized how long he was thinking of everything he wanted to do with you until he felt you clenching against his fingers and you were crying out that you needed to cum.

He pulled away from your clit and murmured, "Cum for me pretty girl I've got you."

You nodded and whimpered as your orgasm hit you hard and left your entire body shaking as Miguel continued fucking your poor cunt until your creamy juices spilled out of you.

He stopped and pulled his fingers out of you slowly, and moved his head back to look at you, so pretty and breathing heavily. Poor girl.

He left a kiss to your thigh before fixing your panties when suddenly the door opens and he almost grabs his knife to throw it at whoever opened the door but opts against it. You gasped and tried to cover yourself but Miguel got you covered as he quickly sat on the couch, covering your body before yelling, "look at her and I'll kill you!"

Your poor body was so fucked out already but as soon as you heard the door shut you went back to reality. "M-Maybe we stop there." You say quietly and he turns around to look at you before leaning down to grab your shorts off the floor.

"That's alright with me angel." He says and kisses your cheek before turning back around to let you put on your shorts.

[pixievi]

headcannons for jealous kit?

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── *:･ﾟ JEALOUS KIT ･ﾟ:* ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

𓆩 summary ° ｡ kit getting jealous over you <3

𓆩 contents ° ｡ headcanons

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ༺♡༻ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

Despite being fiercely worried for her brother Airk, Kit was beyond excited that you were adventuring with her. Adventuring with you by her side? It was the source of many of her daydreams

But, when Elora joined the group, Kit started having a bad time, a REALLY bad time

On top of the feelings of rejection and anger that she harboured towards Elora, seeing you get close with her was creating a whole other beast

At this point, Kit had never uttered a word of her love for you. Fearing that if you didn’t feel the same, it would ruin your friendship. And you’d leave her

Which was something she felt sick at the thought of

So, she kept her mouth shut. About that, at least

She was very generous with opening her mouth towards Elora though, wanting to scare her off from the both of you, but you especially

Kit could see how sweet and pretty Elora was, how everyone went out of their way to be of service to her, so how could you not do the same? How could you not want her the same way Kit wanted you?

You were making an effort to be a friend to Elora, as you two naturally did get along well anyways, but also because you felt pretty bad for how Kit was towards her

You knew why, which was because it seemed that her father always chose Elora over Kit and abandoning her because of it, so you understood

But you weren’t aware of the other reason why, if you were, you would have eased her worries and insecurities. As you felt the exact same about Kit, and had for a while

Kit would take every chance she could to steal you away from Elora, with an excuse always at the ready - “c’mon, train with me”, “will you help me find wood for the fire”, “will you help me with this”, “help me with that”

Or sometimes she’d just say “come with me” while walking past, and you being a lovesick puppy for her, you always followed. Giving Elora an apologetic smile

Her jealousy got worse when you would shoot a disapproving look at her whenever she said something to Elora, or when you would tell her to ease off

Sometimes she’d snap at you in the process, then immediately regret it

She would take that as a sign she needs to leave and cool off

“kit”

you found her sitting on the old bark of a fallen tree, resting her elbows on her knees. Staring into the tree line. She jumped slightly as your voice pulled her from her racing thoughts. She sat up as you plopped down beside her.

“I’m sorry”

“I know”

“No like really, I shouldn’t have done that to you”

“Mmm”, you agreed, resting your hand on her knee.

Kit stiffened and tried to remember how to breathe. Her skin was on fire. But it was good. Warmth threatened to creep up to her cheeks so she kept her head down, keeping her eyes on the way you absentmindedly tapped her knee.

“You hear what I said?”

Shit. “Hu-yeah. ‘course”

“You didn’t, did you?”

“No”

You chuckled under your breath as Kit gazed at you sheepishly. You couldn’t look at her directly, not when she was so close. You adjusted on the tree. Sitting closer to her.

“Well, what I was saying is that I know something is up with you and I wanna know if there’s anything I can do to help make you feel better”

Kit rested her head on your shoulder, sighing. She tentatively took your hand that rested on her knee and intertwined her fingers with yours. A small smile grew on your face. Kit cleared her throat.

“Just don’t leave me, please”, she said, quietly.

Leave her? Why would you leave her?

“Oh, Kit”, her words tugged at your heart and you pulled her into a tight hug. She melted into your frame, gripping you just as tight. “The only way I’m ever leaving you is if I die, or you tell me to, okay?”

She nodded into your neck, drinking up your words like a lifeline. She wanted to stay like that forever.

She did her best to remember your words, chanting it in her head whenever she felt those feelings of jealousy rise in her. She was able to keep her mouth shut for the most part as she watched Elora interact with you, but she was failing at keeping it from her face

Jade regarded Kit with a knowing smile at her expression of both annoyance and grumpiness. You were helping Elora with pronouncing her spells, but she kept messing it up. Making herself sound ridiculous, which made both of you keep giggling.

“You alright?”, she asked Kit.

“Yeah, why?”, she finally tore her gaze away from Elora and you to Jade beside her.

“Well, you just look a little deranged”, she chuckled.

Kit cleared her throat, feeling foolish suddenly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Uh huh”

She would always sit beside you, needing to be close to you. Which always made her feel better

Jade kept encouraging Kit to tell you and with each time she mentioned it, Kit agreed more and more that it was near time to tell you

She definitely sulks when you’re talking to Elora

Boorman constantly teases her about it, seeing right through her and always gives you a mischievous smile as you approach Kit

She eventually told you in the Wildwoods. Not that she had much choice because of the truth plums, but she still wanted to

You were scanning through the crowd looking for Kit, you wanted to dance with her

But Elora spotted you first and dragged you into a dance

It was all very clumsy and giggly, but still fun

Kit found you before Elora let go of you and she couldn’t help her heart sink

Fuck it

She made her way through the crowd, gripped you and uttered you to follow her

You were confused, wondering if something had happened to Kit so you followed her to somewhere more secluded and quiet

She ended up blurting it, and prepared for the worst

But you smiled

And then kissed her

She was frozen in shock, but melted against you as you pressed your body into hers

She couldn’t contain her giddy smile when you both paused for breath

𓆩 tags ° ｡

@k1mba @amorogre @elliesconverses @visndcaitswhore @happysparklingshadows @caspianbluu @violetsrxse @perrzs @ghosthellz @evilpotat @headempty03 @vastseamind @whoreshores @hangesgirlypop @purrculiar @askforimagineoroneshot @flowersinafield @border-bb @animetingzz @taleiak @wisezonkthingbandit

[behidethetrees]

LOVE IS ONLY A FEELING.

IN WHICH… You have a bittersweet reunion.

Pairing: Coriolanus snow x Fem! reader

Content: Ooc! Coryo (he's not evil), Covey! reader, They're definitely a situationship, Possessive! Coriolanus, 1.3k words. Requests

You were greeted with Loud clapping and cheering once you finished your original song at the nightclub. It wasn't often that people would stop dancing to take in someone's beautiful words, But everyone did for you. You thanked everyone and stepped down from the stage to get some water when suddenly a brunette boy walked over to you and asked for a dance. Of course, you agreed.

It had been months since you’d seen Coriolanus snow. He had gotten in a fight with your ex, As he was swinging, he accidentally hit one of the covey members with his backhand. You yelled at Coriolanus so much you were surprised your vocal cords were still intact. He never apologized. He never came back after you kicked him out. He had left you for months with bitterness and anger, But you couldn't hold onto that forever. You were done with Coriolanus snow.

The brunette boy was slightly taller than you and he danced well enough. Though His hands were sweaty and he messed up his foot placement every now and then. As you danced with him, Your long white skirt swaying, A drop of temperature in the room occurred, You knew right away that only one man could make a room feel cold. Coriolanus snow. The man that you were so hopelessly in love with but hated every inch of, Stood in the back of the room with a clenched jaw and eyes that could pierce anyone. All you could do was roll your own pair and abandon the boy you didn't even know the name of. 

The covey band was singing one of your songs And Coriolanus immediately recognized it. It was the one you sang to him the first time you showed him the big wildflower field one summer night. He had thought back to when you held each other under that green and yellow leaf tree. When he finally found you on the side of the stairs leading to the stage, Coriolanus swept you off your feet, Like he always did.

His strong arm gripped your waist tightly but he held your hand gently. You were close enough to smell him, he smelt just like roses. You had started to notice actually how nice he looked. He wore a black suit with a red shirt under and his curly outgrown hair was combed back. Was he dressed up for someone else, Or you?

You looked up at him Through your curled lashes, Your eyes were pure, as snow he thought. His upper lip slightly lifted into a small smirk. As the covey band continued, Coriolanus began to move your body with his slowly. Coriolanus liked you better like this. When you were hidden away in his hold, When you struggled to hate his touch, When he knows he's got you.

“Did you miss me sweetheart?” Coriolanus says with that sickly sweet smile. His tone was arrogant like he had no doubts.

“Not one bit.” You gripe back at him. You had missed him. Sitting by the lake only you two knew as you sang and he’d listen, Late night walks while his muscular arms kept you safe from any harm, The feeling of his hands. How rough and slim they were, You’d wonder who else's blood had fallen on them.

“Well, that's a shame because I missed you.” Coriolanus wasn't lying. He missed a certain girl waltzing around with long dresses and feathers in her hair, Those love songs she’d sing to him as she traced flowers in Coriolanus’s palm with her little finger, the security and comfort her aura provided him. 

“Then why didn't you come back?” You ask him. You can tell that hit a nerve by the way he swung you to the right harshly, then returned to slowly swaying side by side. Coriolanus didn't have a reason nor an excuse. He, who was so defensive, never apologized for anything. He just sighed.

“I waited for you Coriolanus.” You couldn't help the tears starting to form in your eyes. Every night you left your window open and a key under the mat. Waiting, listening, Hoping he would come back. Something about you calling him ‘Coriolanus’ disappointed him to his core. He felt his girl slipping from his grasp. He felt the only thing that had ever belonged to him was disappearing. 

It wasn't just your kindness and easily persuaded mind that Coriolanus liked. It was the way your big, curious eyes looked at his unforgiving blue ones like he was more than a poor capitol boy trying to carry on his family name. Like he had the chance to be someone to somebody.

He slowly stopped the movement of your bodies. “Look at me.”  Coriolanus was now gently cupping the sides of your jaw with both hands, Forcing you to look at him. You searched for something in him. The guilt in his eyebrows, the reassurance in his eyes, and the slight resentment he had towards you in his lips.

“I'm here now. And I'm so, so sorry I hurt you. I will make this right, you just have to let me, please.” Coriolanus Begged. You had Coriolanus Snow, One of the most intimidating boys in the capitol, Begging for a way back into your life. His forehead touched yours while he delicately wiped away your tears with his thumb.

His big arms eventually hugged your waist. He buried his head into your shoulder, taking in the scent of you that he was addicted to. You felt so close to Coriolanus, so vulnerable. You placed your arms around his neck. The warmth of your bodies rose, That feeling you both had been chasing since that night.

A few minutes went by as the covey continued to play. You felt the rise and fall of Coriolanus’s chest, His steady heartbeat thumping against his insides. Coriolanus picked his head up to say something. Coriolanus thought for a minute, His lips drawing together. No, he couldn't say that. he couldn’t tell her why he didn’t want to love her. That she’d be the only thing above him, the only weakness people could dangle over his head. That she would have the power Coriolanus so desperately wanted. But if he told her, He’d have to live with that for the rest of his life. The guilt would hurt him no matter how hard he would try not to feel. The regret would build up in his stomach but Worst of all, his jealousy would seethe through his veins and kill him.

The cold sensation of his hands on your jaw and neck swirled into your skin and down to your heart. He took a moment to look across all your features before he put his lip onto yours. It was passionate and long. He never pulled away because he wanted this so bad. he wanted you so bad. to have all of you to himself. his hands gripped tighter on you. His lips pressed harder onto yours. He hated that others were around while you shared this intimate moment. He hated that others were around you.

Coriolanus’s thoughts started wandering into the darkest parts of his brain. He kept his composure. He didn't want to scare you away with his mind because he didn't think he'd survive if he lost you again.

After you pulled away, he gave you a quick smile and guided your head back to his chest as he wrapped himself around you again. His chin rested on top of your soft hair. The lights glistened as you closed your eyes, Listening to a mix of the covey and his heartbeat. Sweet moments of Coriolanus kissing your hair and whispering sweet words blurred together. Coriolanus’s presence sent you in a state of euphoria.

Coriolanus knew it wasn’t over. He knew you, better than you knew yourself. You’d always come back to him and he’d do the same. You were his. This was a never ending story of you two. Coriolanus smiled. He got his girl back.

A/N: srry ive been gone writers block sucks. Anyways hope u enjoyed :3

Requests

[zgvlt]

hearts held out of harms way ace trappola x reader x deuce spade (polycule)

commissioned by: shopkeep !!!

summary: in which (1) ace, a nobleman, desperately wants to be more than just the earl you and deuce serve; (2) deuce, a knight, doesn't how to get not just one but two people to fall in love with him; and (3) you, a fairy, try to push ace and deuce together while ignoring your own feelings for them

tags: gender neutral reader (only you is used), sfw, fluff, knight x nobility x fairy, commoner x nobility, poly relationship, getting together fic, 8.3k+ words, not beta read, completed (division by "chapters" = just a stylistic choice)

The young Lord Ace Trappola was a nobleman people found difficulty understanding. The new earl—and how new he truly was; how unexpected, too—was many things all at once and, depending on who was asked, they would all have something different to say in regards to the gentleman.

For instance, some would say he was no gentleman at all—some being a past love, who claimed she had never really felt his love for her at all. It was not too uncommon for nobles to abandon their old partner one way or another, but it did dishearten those in society seeking to become his marriage candidate.

Others, specifically his old schoolmates from the academy, would call him clever and cheery but a little too carefree, so much so that they were surprised he had been declared not just the heir, but had taken hold of the position the moment he left his youth. Was it the truth, that he was that kind of character? Yes, though it did give way to less than savory questions regarding his inexperience and capabilities.

Finally, though said noble would not know until later how the rumor had been birthed, it was said that he was a man who had deceived everyone magnificently into thinking he was who he presented himself to the public. As to who or what he truly was, nobody could quite agree. There were those that argued he was the manipulative sort, perhaps one who dabbled in illegal magic, for how else could he ascend to his position so quickly? There were those, too, who had proposed that perhaps their household had something to hide, that the young Trappola was simply a dutiful son to his father.

A small, terribly small group, however, would argue that the truth behind Ace Trappola was that he…

“Good morning My Lord!” Ace looked up from his desk, immediately abandoning his work. It’s not that he’s particularly excited or anything, but he sure does think that his two faithful attendants are far more fun than any scroll or sheet of paper could be.

Former delinquent turned knight, his right-hand man Deuce Spade had a serious look on his face despite the jolly greeting. Beside him was you, his right-hand’s right-hand, a fairy who greeted him in a calm but elegant manner. The juxtaposition between his two aides had surprised him once-upon-a-time, but he’d come to realize that they were far better suited to each other than he had initially realized.

“Lock the doors, then be at ease,” he ordered. Though he did not care much for appearing particularly prim or proper, the idea of being walked in on while he conversed with his two companions did not appeal to him either.

“Slacking again, Lord Trappola?” You peered over his shoulder, reading the documents he had atop his table. “Household affairs? New knightings? Isn’t that mere child’s play for you? You could very likely finish all of those in one go.”

“If I accomplish all of it in one sitting, they will think it a sign to pile more work for me the day after,” he explained, as though it were common sense. “It’s better to slack off a little bit sometimes. I understand I’m quite capable, but I detest people who push all their work onto others.”

“There, there. You can let your worries out with me,” you laughed at him, fingers combing through his unkempt hair as you did so. It was an action he always distinguished from his father and brother, who would purposefully ruffle it, or Deuce, who accidentally chopped a portion off with his sword. 

He used to think it was out of pity, once, or some kind of disapproval, the way you could bicker and banter with Deuce but hesitated to do the same with him. However, nowadays it was easy to tell that it was your way of empathizing with him. That good-naturedness of yours was probably why Deuce clung to you, too. “Let’s have you spar with Deuce so you can catch a break.”

“Exactly what I was thinking! Can you read minds or something? You know I don’t know much about fairies.”

“You just so happen to be an open book, Deuce. If I had come to possess that kind of ability, though…” Ace knew you were merely being humorous, an attempt at getting a laugh out of him and a way to tease Deuce, but he did shiver the slightest bit as you laughed ominously. Just what would you do given that kind of power? “Though not quite fairy, I have heard of a fae that can see people’s dreams… Or was it manipulate? I can’t quite recall.” 

“If someone were to see my dreams…” Deuce blanched, and Ace found himself curious by the reaction. By the looks of it, you were curious, too. Ace’s dreams tended to be the nonsensical sort—that or he could never remember them at all save for a detail or two, like how you or Deuce or even some old schoolmates from the academy would simply appear. 

“Now that you mention it, I do remember you sleep talking.” You looked away from Deuce and back to him, fingers still weaving through his hair. “There was a night, when Deuce and I were still wanderers, where…”

Cruel, Ace thought to himself, smiling, the good-natured fairy could tease the poor knight again and again. 

“You truly are incapable of not embarrassing me at every opportunity, especially in front of our liege,” the blue haired man huffed, though he hardly seemed frustrated. On the contrary, his gaze had gone through a fiery change, as though engaged in a new competition. “If we are to compare sleeping habits, then yours–”

“Are not as worse, I am certain.” In truth, Ace was unsure if you were being truthful, but that aside–

“Oho, feel free to argue and spill your deepest secrets in front of me~ Although…” he feigned a sigh, “did the two of you forget my presence? Or that I know nothing of either of your sleeping patterns?” Or that it was considered inappropriate to so much as discuss nighttime activities, no matter how innocent? Ace could not say he was against it, however, having always been less… traditional, he supposed.

At his words, neither you nor Deuce had the decency to be embarrassed, though the latter made a genuine attempt at appearing to be. Clearly he had done a good job of keeping things as casual and comfortable as possible, even with the imbalance of power. That he could not erase, but at the very least he would feel much better if it could be ignored.

“Ahem, so are you up for it, Ace? The sparring? It could be good practice for the upcoming tournament.” Deuce had been leaning against the door as he said it, but he jolted up as he’d come to realize his informality. “Or, uh, Lord Ace? No, should it be Lord Trappola?”

Never mind. Perhaps some work still needed to be done, after all.

“Doesn’t matter,” Ace said quickly, hoping to elucidate the matter. The previous topic had not been forgotten, but perhaps he would be able to bring the matter up at a different time. “It’s just the three of us right now. Isn’t it exhausting being so formal all the time?”

“I guess that’s fair,” Deuce replied, “although I have a feeling I’ll call you the wrong thing in public.”

“Mhm, it’s the same for me, which is why I’m avoiding forgoing the title,” you sighed, “we’d cause quite the scandal if we so much as fumble–”

“Like I said, it doesn’t matter!” Ace snorted, “What do they care? You’re my people, so if they have a problem with how I let the two of you address me, then they should bring it up with the Earl of Trappola himself!”

For the most part, he had been serious with his proclamation—the formalities were starting to get to him, and he’d prefer to maintain Deuce’s casualness with him; has been meaning to convert you into dropping the titles, too. However, the way Deuce blinked up at him and the way you began clapping made it feel as though he had put on some performance instead, a rare show of his nobility.

“Our Lord… is a noble too, after all,” Deuce said with disbelief—Ace thought it to be feigned, though a small part of him wondered if it was genuine. You followed suit with a slow nod of your head. 

“We made the right choice of pledging our loyalty to him after all.”

“Hah?” Ace scratched his head, inevitably messing with what you had worked to fix. “Seriously, would the me of the past have guessed the two outsiders I brought into my estate would become the bane of my existence?”

He had said as much, though he knew—and he knew that his two attendants knew, too—that no regrets had been brought in with said decision.

Deuce Spade enjoyed the life he was currently living.

It was a stark contrast to the life he possessed back home, his troublesome ways before he stowed away on that boat, before he crossed paths with you in that forest, before the two of you somehow wound up in the Trappola estate.

It was a tough life and he had ways to go before he could show his face to his mother, but it was a life he could finally be proud of, a life that was his.

Which was why he trained intensively and persistently, the need to prove his resolve not simply to the world, but to the people who he cherished in that world—the parent who awaited his letters every week, whom he lived for, and the two he swore to protect, whom he would lay down his life for… 

But he knew you would be angered to hear such a bold statement, and the noble he was guarding would ask how he grew to become so serious, so he supposed he would have to keep his perspective a secret.

He thanked the Queen and whatever deities there were up there that you could not read minds, or see dreams for that matter. How troubling would it have been for him if you knew how his affections had grown for you and for–

“Oh, is that for Ace?” 

Though he supposed you already knew of that, thus he only had his feelings for you being leaked to be worried about. Not that he was not worried about his feelings for Ace being made known—both, both were cause of worry. The mere idea of him being fond of two people should have been troubling, what more that one was his close companion and the other his liege?!

“Ace? Is that right?” he said with a stifled chuckle, “Were you not the one who wanted to address him properly?”

“What could you possibly mean? I could never! Well, if you pretend you did not hear my informality, that is.” Stepping closer and fully entering his quarters, you peered over his shoulder, eyeing the soft fabric carefully. You prodded a finger at the handkerchief, tracing his attempt at embroidery. “You have gotten better! The heart is cute.”

“Only in the front. You should see how badly I fumbled the back,” he said, showing you the messy stitching himself. Still, he knew progress was progress, and he gleamed at you having taken notice of his hard work. “Whoever could have guessed that years of watching my mother stitch my clothes back together would be of use for this very reason?”

“I’m sure she would be proud to see your work so far.” 

Genuine. That was always something he enjoyed about you—genuine in your actions, genuine in your words. Thinking about it, it was somewhat humorous that he had come to like Ace Trappola too despite his selective dishonesty. He supposed, at the end of the day, it had to do with his honed ability to detect those with immoral intentions, the inherent lack of such within the two of you.

Surrounded by people who were good to him, he often found himself thinking he could finally be on the right path—the path of becoming someone good for his mother.

“It might be nice to have one sent to her as well, though not yet,” Deuce replied sheepishly, “even though I worked hard on this one, it seems practice is still needed on my end.” 

“I believe in you. What is a needle if not a small sword? What are stitches if not… hmm… different techniques using the needle, just as stances and movements are to battle?” Even you seemed unsure about the last analogy. Nevertheless, it had made Deuce laugh, your intentions in uplifting his spirits effective as always.

“More like things you must get after a battle,” he retorted, shaking his head. “Given the topic, it should be appropriate to ask… How’s your progress?”

“Progress with…?”

“Your token!” he reminded, finding you silly for forgetting. “You’ve chosen to craft an amulet, right?”

“I did say that, yes. It seemed fitting given magic is my specialty, even though handkerchiefs and ribbons seem to be the norm in society these days. I’ve yet to review the rules, though, so perhaps no spells can be imbued yet,” you sighed, “So should I give something, an amulet or some kind of  charm would be good.”

By now, he could say he knew you rather well, and he knew that while you did your best to be truthful with him, you did not exactly shy away from allowing people to interpret your words differently. Sometimes, you seem to want to be misunderstood. 

It’s just too bad that he caught and understood your choice of wording.

“What do you mean by should you?  Did we not agree we were both giving Ace something?”

You shrugged. “Would it not be better if, oh, perhaps you were the only one to give him a gift?”

“But we both care for him as our liege and as his… friends? Companions? Whatever the appropriate term may be, we are that to him and he is that to us. Certainly he would appreciate getting something from you?” he reasoned, an attempt at convincing you to continue as planned.

“Yes, but you like him. I am able to give him a token at some other time surely, but for now… I don’t see how my giving him anything will aid in my mission to help you convey your feelings–oh don’t look at me like that, fine, your appreciation for him.”

He huffed out your name, willing to argue with you about the situation if he really needed to, but after staring you down the best he could whilst looking up at you, you eventually relented, as though carrying a soft spot for him, or for Ace. 

Likelihood was that it was both.

“I will consider it, but don’t mention anything. In any case, since I’m banned from competing due to the humans-only stipulation, hmph, I’ll give you a token. Since you’ll be competing for the both of us.”

Deuce finally smiled. He would still try to make sure you handed Ace one as well, but for now he would pretend to be satisfied with his small victory.

“If–When I win, I’ll make sure Ace knows it’ll be on both of our behalves.”

You cannot stop yourself from smiling as well. “Have I ever told you I was thankful? That you are always trying to include me in things, even with matters in regards to Ace? Even when I’m not actually one of his knights?”

It’s because I like you too, you foolish fairy! 

“Because you are our resident fairy and perhaps the best magic user in the estate,” he proclaimed. Always the first to tease you, always the first to praise you.

“Well if you put it that way,” you chuckled, “and since you are being so terribly kind to me today, I’ll put in the effort to defend you should the young lord throw a fit about his own knight beating him in the tournament… and of course, I shall comfort you should you throw a fit should you lose to him.”

“So win or lose, it will be a lose-lose situation. Absolutely wonderful!” He had only been joking, truly, but you gave him a slight nudge at the comment. 

“Just do your best regardless!” 

You laughed, a warmth not unlike the sunlight peeking from the woodlands the day he first met you. 

“Besides, you have a goal when you win, don’t you?” 

Momentarily bashful, determination soon replaced it. Fears and anxieties aside, Deuce knew that should he win, the adrenaline would certainly convince him to profess his adoration and devotion to their earl and, unbeknownst to you, their fairy.

“A confession.”

“Oh, for sure, but that should only be the first step!” you encouraged, always the first to aid him in his lofty ambitions. “Have you considered marriage? Or a grand trip to another nation? I heard the Sunset Savanna is lovely this time of year.”

He snorted, “Perhaps nobility move faster than us commoners, but I find a proposal would be too sudden even for human standards. However… A trip does sound nice.”

“Does it not? Ah, but should you go about one in the future, I’ll lock you both out of the manor if you fail to bring me a souvenir.”

“I cannot speak for Ace, but… Oh, I might as well—Ace will certainly lock you out of the manor should you refuse to come with us!” 

“You shall be there to help me back inside.”

“Wrong! As a matter of fact, I will be present to drag you in the carriage with us.” He was being quite serious, but you laughed at his apparent persistence. 

“All three of us stuck in a carriage, perhaps even a boat or two, for weeks,” you were groaning with feigned displeasure, but when you told him it’d likely be good fun, he could tell even you couldn’t lie to yourself there, that you enjoyed their company as much as he, and to speak for someone else, and Ace did.

But as much as he enjoyed having you around, he also knew that with you being in his room, any more progress for the day was pretty much impossible. Ace’s aside, he’s going to have a hard time starting on your handkerchief anytime soon if you’re going to remain a frequent visitor.

Ace knew he carried a certain attitude about the work assigned to him. He knew, despite the loyalty of those in his estate, his detractors would call him all sorts of insults, deprecate him and his character, see him as nothing more than a young man who cared not for aged tradition and stiff nobility, and had no ability to command and control his territory. 

Ability aside, he simply never cared to accomplish them immediately as opposed to pacing them according to his tastes. 

Thus, he would do as he wished, just as his ancestors would’ve before him. After all, would his family have become, and stayed for that matter, nobles if they had continued to abide by what was expected? 

If anything, would it not be expected of him to differ from the rest of them? A smart person would, he believed.

Which was why he found himself in the markets again, not bothering to put on any sort of disguise. He grew up visiting the nearby towns anyway, with some of the vendors having practically raised him since childhood, so really, what was the point?

“I’m still not convinced this is the best idea,” Deuce sighed, following him a little too far for his liking, “not that my opinion should matter. What you say goes, Lord Ace!”

“You have gotten comfortable enough with me to complain about the tasks I give you, but not comfortable enough to walk a centimeter closer or call me by my given name alone,” Ace teased, putting on a show of scolding his knight. “Your perception of what is more egregious between the three astounds me.”

“It is one thing for you to be alright with it, it is another for the prying ears to be. If it were only up to me, I would talk quite informally to you, too.” Ace need not question who too was referring to, for there was only one other person in the estate Deuce relied on to the extent of comfort: you.

“And I’ve let you change the subject… Really, what will happen if an assassin, or someone who wants to cause you harm, comes across you in broad daylight?”

“Then you’ll deal with them! Although… I may be able to protect myself better than you, hmm?” he laughed, shaking his head at the slight irritation Deuce attempted to hide. He could not get back at him now, but Ace was sure Deuce would attempt to do so the next time they were on the training grounds. “And perhaps I wished to change the subject of our conversation.”

“To?”

“You, perhaps. Our one and only fairy as well, possibly.” 

Except, despite his wording, he was positively assured of his choices. Discussing the two of them—well, the three of you, was always a difficult affair when you were around, and Ace is not dense enough to not detect your affection and yet avoidance of him, the scheming nature you seem to possess and yet hold back in front of him but fully show towards Deuce.

He never needed a companion during his trips out, sometimes preferred not to have one, so perhaps his invitation carried impure intentions. 

Deuce stiffened and though he tried to pass it off as a simple response to his surroundings, Ace knew better. What could have rendered such a reaction? Was it a secret you, or him, or the both of you together, were hiding? Was it something he ought not to know but would undoubtedly weed out right this second?

“What could you possibly want to know?” his knight inquired, seemingly nervous around him. How uncharacteristic. 

“A few things. For starters… There’s something wrong.”

“With what?”

Your name left Ace’s lips. Even to his ears it sounded a bit awkward, like he knew how to say it but barely uttered it outside of his head, at least compared to how Deuce would say it—undoubtedly familiar with you in a way he, too, wanted to be. It’s only then that Ace realized his hypocrisy… or, if hypocrisy was too strong a description, then the humor with the two of you.

His insistence at being just Ace and not Earl Ace or Lord Trappola, yet his persistence in calling you their fairy, their magician. 

Maybe it’s the need to remind himself that you’re one of his people, too, without having to commit to actually saying it. Maybe it’s his way of letting you know of your presence in his life, considering you always seemed so insistent on downplaying your importance to him and, if his eyes are working as clearly as he thinks, to Deuce as well.

Really, did you think he played favorites? Because he did, obviously, but the plurality implied he certainly had more than one! For such a scheming being, were you not oddly dense?

“I see…” Deuce muttered. With a hint of embarrassment, Ace figured the knight actually understood, if not completely then partially, his troubles when it came to you. “What could I… Is there any way for me to help?”

Cute. He’d rather gouge his eyes out than admit he thinks it unironically, but he still remembers the rascal that appeared in front of his manor, all roughed up with a scary but determined look on his face. Seeing Deuce be so thoughtful and kind when it comes to both him and you is just plain nice—the heavens know the world needs more people like that around him… and in noble society in general, but he’d rather not share with them.

“Help?”

“With, you know… I could give you advice, or–”

Ace sighed. Speaking of dense… Is there even a good way to say, ‘If the two of you haven’t noticed, I have a severe, desperate need to infiltrate and be a part of whatever it is the two of you have’ without being perceived as rude, or worse, a complete nutter.

Not being able to think of anything, he reluctantly changed the subject.

“Let’s go look around the market. Help the local economy! Purchase a few things for ourselves.”

The man next to him narrowed his eyes, and for a moment Ace genuinely worried that Deuce realized everything. Sure, he mocked the two of you in his head for not understanding him, but he certainly was not ready to reveal anything! Especially without any assurance from either involved party!

The knight did not utter another word for a while, simply guiding him through the stalls, prattling about things you enjoyed. Alongside him, the earl absorbed every piece of information, all the while watching whatever it was the Deuce’s eyes landed on for more than a few seconds.

Ace, whether he was aware of it or not, harbored feelings for you, Deuce was sure of it. He had his assumptions beforehand, mostly due to his increasing number of delusions of all three of you. In any case, there was no doubt in his mind now—he was not alone in harboring feelings for you.

On one hand, he could not blame Ace. You were, for all intents and purposes, his first friend, a cherished friend, thus he understood how the earl could fall for you. If anything, he’s going as far as applauding the choice. If anyone deserves love and adoration, of course it should be you! 

On the other hand, he’s reminded of his own troubles. If Ace is troubled with getting you to be more comfortable and closer to him, Deuce is troubled with getting not one, but two people to miraculously like him in the same manner he does. Meanwhile, Deuce can’t even tell if you like either one of them that way! It’s just a mess, truthfully, one he cannot speak of lest all three of you end up in a scandal, so he can do nothing but keep quiet…

Alright, perhaps that was not entirely true. There was something he could do.

“That’s a nice color,” Deuce commented. He can’t really differentiate the stones when they’re all round and smoothed out so he’s not sure if you’re holding a jasper or a carnelian (names he knows only because you had a knack for buying all sorts of stones) or something else entirely, but it’s this blend of orange and red and he knew it was chosen for a reason.

You smiled at him fondly, knowingly, “I’m not surprised you like the color. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re already aware of what I think.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop with the teasing.” You abide by your word, dropping your stare so you could focus on the task at hand—creating an amulet for Ace. “It can’t be helped that I cannot resist either one of you.”

“Then don’t! Did either of us ever imply that you should do as such?” he huffed, “I know for certain that Ace—”

“That I would what, exactly?”

As though caught in the midst of an immoral act, Deuce scrambled to hide everything as quickly as possible for you, shoving the stone in the nearest box he could open. Meanwhile, you were left to face Ace, who made no show of being even the slightest bit apologetic for his intrusion.

“Aren’t nobles meant to have perfect etiquette?” Were you smiling? Yes. Did you look amused? Not particularly. “I’m always happy to see you, Ace, but I can’t say for certain that I appreciate your storming in my quarters without so much as a knock on the door.”

“You don’t look particularly happy right now.” Ace, by contrast, looked particularly happy at your slip up, and Deuce would do his part in not calling you out on it… until Ace left, of course.

But the earl seemed to have no intentions of doing so any time soon, propping himself up against the now-shut door. 

“I’m perfectly happy, for sure,” you insisted, and though your face was not betraying it, Deuce thought you truly meant it. “But what are you doing here? You’ve never visited my room before.”

“I meant to look for Deuce to see if he wanted to train–”

You and Deuce locked eyes instantly. You’re trying not to make your change in expression too noticeable, but Deuce has observed you far too many times to not notice. It’s incredibly evident that it embarrassed him, almost, that you could be so happy for him because of something so very simple. 

It was a childish sort of glee, which might have been why he accepted it so readily. He never had the chance to experience that sort of situation and he’s not too sure you have either, having a laugh with someone over some puppy love. 

“He’s certainly free to do so,” you supplied, “if you want to, you’re free to take him off my hands right now.”

“Ah, but I’ve changed my mind. We train every day, so we should have a change of pace, should we not? Perhaps the tavern that opened the week prior?” 

“Hmm, should you really be forgoing training? The current victor of the tournament, the young Rosehearts, will be competing, too.” you interjected. It’s not an outright rejection of a suggestion, but Ace should have prepared a better excuse if this was his plan all along, thought Deuce. Still, he was currently his liege’s number one supporter—more time spent with the both of you? He could not see it as anything but a positive for all parties involved. 

“Oh please! What’s one day spent with my two companions instead of training until sundown?” Ace snorted, “And it was different last year! This year, my victory against the young duke is certain.”

“To be sure,” Deuce replied immediately, half out of belief and half out of solidarity of having lost to the same man. Next to him, you nodded your head slowly.

“Then if you’re certain…” What you said about not being able to resist Ace and Deuce must have been true, your reluctance at heading out visibly fading. This time, it’s Ace and Deuce who exchanged a knowing glance, and the same, childish feeling bubbled up within him again.

It’s not quite the trip to the other nation you mentioned to him, but it’s a delightful start, is it not?

“Then the both of you better get changed!” Ace grinned boyishly, “Or don’t! Regardless, I’ll have the carriage prepared by five!”

“Wait a moment, shouldn’t we be calling the carriage for you?!” you exclaimed, but the earl had already left your quarters. “Good riddance. Deuce, could I have the amulet I was working on back? We have some time before we need to leave and… I have the sinking suspicion he won’t leave us alone before the next few days.”

“Definitely. To both statements.” Remembering where he had placed it, he opened up the wooden box to retrieve the stone, only to be distracted by an already completed amulet—a nice blue that reminded him awfully of… ah. 

“Deuce? The amulet?” you asked again, shaking him out of his reverie.

“Here.” If you notice anything odd about his expression you do not speak of it, allowing him to leave your room peacefully to ready himself for the awaited excursion.

“I told Deuce I would comfort him should he lose to you… I can’t say I expected this turn of events instead.”

Perhaps Ace should have trained more. 

In his defense, he did not think Riddle Rosehearts would have done that well in the tournament considering there were no horses to ride on this season. His athleticism was never the best either during their days at the academy, so even if his swings were passable, his stamina should have run out quickly enough. And yet…

“But next year surely, my liege,” you comforted him, wiping the sweat off of him with a white handkerchief, uncaring of the fact that the both of you were in public or, perhaps, knowing everyone’s eyes would be on the ongoing match rather than the two of you. Even though Ace prided himself of being the (self-designated) mature person amongst the three of you, he did not say no to the opportunity of receiving your attention and affection. 

“Besides, not all hope is lost. We can still have the winner come from our house.”

Our house. Ace gleamed at your words. Of course. The ideal situation would have been to face off against his knight, but as much as he wanted to be the winner, Deuce being the victor would have been just as much of a joyous affair for the Trappola Earldom.

“If our Deucey wins, he’ll never let me forget it,” he sighed.

“But it would be worth it, having someone to avenge you, wouldn’t it?” Seemingly having deemed him presentable enough, your hands returned to your lap, handkerchief in tow. It's only then that Ace realizes it.

“Deuce gave you one too,” he said, more amused than anything. “What’d he sew for you?”

You didn't respond but you did smile, so it was likely something meaningful to you. If you were happy, then Deuce must have done a good job at choosing something for you, just as he chose something that well-suited him.

“He did not have to. I’m not competing in this tournament, so…” Again, Ace thought, you were smiling, so what did it matter if Deuce did not have to. Could people not act based on wants, now?

“And yet you’re using it, just as you’re wearing the tassel I gave you.” He grinned, fingers flicking the fringes the color you loved most, allegedly. If Deuce gave him the right information. You liked it enough to keep it on you, at least. “The tassel I did not have to get you.”

“It’s nice. They’re both nice gifts,” you murmured, and even though you’re no longer meeting his gaze he can still tell that you’re being honest. A part of him will attribute it to his amazing observation skills, but another, far warmer part of him knows it’s because he’s gotten to know you better. 

The two of you are already by his side, closer than before, and yet it is still not enough.

“What design did Deuce sew for your handkerchief?”

“Don’t pretend like you do not know.” For he knew for a fact that Deuce must have shared it with you, or at the very least failed to hide it from you (just as he failed to hide his tokens from Deuce).

“Then what do you think of it?”

He brought it out of his breast pocket, having tucked it in there before his matches began. 

“The hearts are differing in sizes. You can tell there were loose threads he tried cutting as much as possible without ruining the whole work. Still, there are hearts, the symbol of Trappola.” The symbol of Deuce’s dedication and loyalty. 

“It’s… I suppose it’s—” You threw him a look, and Ace reluctantly gave in, “—It is good. Give me a break! Nobles tend to have a hard time being honest, you know! If you think I’m bad, you ought to see the rest of them!”

You laughed, “I know, I know. I won’t tell. You should do it by yourself, after all.”

“Only if he wins,” he said, grinning.

“So I’ll tell him for you if he loses?” 

“A menace, you are,” he muttered, “I’ll tell him you thought he would lose, then.”

You no longer respond to his taunt, eyes now stuck to the grounds, clearly waiting for a certain blue-haired knight to appear before everyone’s very eyes, but your hands are moving, reaching into one of your pockets as though searching for something.

“I meant to give you something as well,” you said, pulling out two amulets. The stones are different in color, different in shape, but the similar craftsmanship all lead to one creator—you. “I’m aware these types of tokens tend to be given out before the matches, for good luck of course, but I’ve gone and imbued magic so I couldn’t take the risk of disqualification, and thus…”

You’re explaining. Overexplaining, really, in Ace’s humble opinion, every possible meaning you could think of—the importance of the stone’s color, the stone itself, what rune’s been inlaid and what spells you’ve enchanted it with. It’s detailed and clearly an overly complicated process and yes, he cannot deny that his heart is not unaffected by the gesture, but looking at the clearly matching amulets just makes him laugh.

He snatches the red one out of your waiting  hand, knowing what was clearly meant for him. His heart had just calmed down and yet it is full again.

So he might have been dense too, but at least he was the first to figure it out. That is a victory in and of itself, one he is never going to forget and let go of. Ever.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing!” He’s thumbing the amulet within his palm, invigorated despite his loss earlier. Even with the magic, he doubts it’s the stone’s doing. “Just thinking of how entertaining things will be from here on out.”

“Because of the match?”

“Sure,” Ace laughed, “because of the match.”

“I still got further into the competition than you,” Deuce argued, nursing his own injuries with one hand and… holding onto your amulet with the other hand. The injured hand. He justified it by saying it was because the amulet had healing properties, as you said, but he was just busy admiring it and thinking of a way to combine it with his (Ace’s) tassel to make a combined good luck charm of some sort.

“Second place is still the first place loser, Loosey-Deucey” mocked Ace, though not out of ill-intent. He knows malice is not at all there by the way he patted him on the back after his duel, the way he beamed at his progress, the way he promised to train harder with him so either one of them could take the young duke down. It’s the sincerity before everything else that makes him take everything he says with a grain of salt.

You seemed to understand all the same, simply allowing the two to go at it with each other since they were unable to do so officially. 

“It does not matter. I would have won if it was a competition of fists over swords,” Deuce laughed, “it’s just a shame. There was something I wanted to do if I won, but since I lost, I don’t have it in me to proceed.”

“Pray tell, what could that possibly be, dear Deuce?” 

He stared the earl down, shaking his head vehemently. “Absolutely not. You can find out when I win next year, my liege.”

“Is that so?” Ace asked, quirked eyebrow, almost as if he interpreted his personal oath as a challenge to beat. “And if I win instead of you, will you not go about completing this quest of yours?”

Beside him, you stood up.

“Perhaps I should set off—”

“Absolutely not!” Ace interjected just as Deuce reached out to stop you from moving, hand grasping your arm. There’s a momentary confusion—he knows why he stopped you from moving, you and your assumptions on this and that occurring between him and Ace and you wanting to step away from it, but Ace stopping you is…

“Hold on, should I leave?”

“What, no! Nobody’s leaving! I’m not getting up from here either! Are the two of you truly oblivious or are you playing oblivious?” Ace groaned, scrunching up his nose in distress. “Why is being the smartest person in the room such a difficult affair?”

“Rude,” Deuce muttered, before quickly inquiring, “but to what are you referring to?”

Instead of words, Ace made an odd motion with his hands, some triangular gesture that was clearly meant to speak louder than words. 

Deuce wants to laugh because it’s an amusing action for a nobleman to be making but humorously, it works well in getting Deuce to understand. It was to be expected, considering he spent much of his time thinking of this exact scenario (albeit, a setting more romantic than the manor’s medical ward, but he’s not in a position to be fussy about the details). He’s trying to catch your eye immediately, but compared to him, you just seem… confused.

Not confused in the sense that you did not understand what Ace was referring to—there was no subtlety in his implications—but more so a general confusion over what was happening.

“I know about Deuce’s feelings, quite obviously, and I was more than certain that his feelings for you had a chance of being reciprocated, so my being here…”

Deuce cannot help himself anymore, and it appears neither can Ace as they both erupt into laughter of chaos and disbelief. Who or what they are laughing at is not a question—it is everything, and then themselves for their own, self-induced stupidity and suffering. 

“I get that it might not have been obvious with me, but with Deuce?” Ace exclaimed, astounded at how you failed to realize the knight’s affections. “He could not have made it any more obvious if he tried!”

“Sorry? It’s quite difficult to determine gratefulness versus love versus love…

“And let’s not be a hypocrite as I could say the same for you, my lord! I thought Deuce was plenty obvious about his feelings, and yet, if I am right in regards to the timing of this affair, you’ve just realized it recently,” you huffed, “we are one in the same.”

Deuce stops laughing. Why did it feel like the two of you were blaming him for your respective lack of analytical skills?!

“As long as we agree that’s not my fault! If I was incredibly obvious, as the two of you would put it, the two of you are anything but.” But with Deuce���s insistence, the two of you turn to look at him as though he had grown a second head.

“What? No! We could make an argument for Ace as I was only mostly sure that your feelings for him were reciprocated, but I hardly made any effort to conceal my own.”

“Agreed. It was as clear as day to the point that I thought the two of you had already gotten into a relationship,” laughed Ace, probably the most honest he was going to be for the rest of the day, “and without me! I was quite offended at the thought of being excluded.”

“Like we could ever leave you be, my lord,” you replied, half a joke but fully the truth. “What would have become of us without you in the first place?”

“Like you would ever let us leave you be,” Deuce quipped, having finally absorbed the situation. If it was an accurate assessment, Ace had no plans of letting them know, merely grinning in response. “What would become of you had we not arrived at your estate?”

“Well there would be far less rumors about me, for one.” Still, the Earl Trappola will remain himself, the need to appear as though he had the upper hand when they all knew the feelings shared between them were of equal measure. Still, with a singular gesture, the two of them walk towards their liege—amulet clanging against his remaining armor, tassels swaying with your very steps. 

“But who cares about that, right?” Deuce replied, knowing it would be what Ace wished to hear—after all, he’d been pretty apparent about it since day one. As they neared him, Ace pulled them closer, making sure the both of them sat on either side of him. 

Then, Deuce heard the door lock. Ace and Deuce both turned to you, the obvious culprit, and you merely shrugged. “I know we’re not supposed to care, but let’s not cause a scandal today of all days! Who knows how many prying eyes there are in the estate!”

“Too many. Don’t be surprised if a strongly worded, but supportive, letter from either father or my brother arrives at our doorstep tomorrow morning,” Ace snorted, “Just hope it’s not some distant relative. I’m sure there are some spies prowling in our manor as we speak.”

“There won’t be any if we deal with them!” Deuce declared, “We’ll protect your dignity, my lord!”

You nod in agreement just as Ace smiles. “I’ll hold you two to that!”

There are other things Deuce wants to declare, to ask and to question. He wants to know what they are now, what will change between the three of them, and what will be of them in the future. He wants to ask and yet it doesn’t feel quite right, not now, perhaps because he already knows, and what he knows is not mere fantasy but reality.

Dear Madam,  Good day to you. I hope you do not mind if I skip the formalities. Until this fairy learns how to send letters with magic alone, the cost of these letters will unfortunately be priced according to how many sheets of paper we use up. In any case, Deuce must have updated you about everything that has happened in his letters. He must have also mentioned that the earl and I will be sending you letters to ask for your permission or blessing or whatever word it had been that the earl had used. In truth, we had been mostly joking regarding that. Ace—the earl—does not believe that the process of seeing one another requires permission from one’s parents, he is far from traditional, but we had come to the agreement to push through with the letters first due to the unusual state of our relationship—that being that we are all seeing one another, with one party not being human and another one being the noble we serve. Foremost, we agreed to send our letters out of respect for you, as we’ve long known what you mean to our knight, and what he means to you, his mother. As previously mentioned, I believe Deuce has told you much of our household affairs and much of his life, but I believe you would appreciate knowing how we see him. I am certain you know that your son spends much of his time training to become a splendid knight, and I am sure you would be happy to know that, day by day, he arrives closer to his goal. It would only make sense considering his sparring partner is none other than our competitive lord as well (and tell not the earl, too, but after keeping track of their victories and defeats, Deuce may have a lead on the tally). His skills are not which I wish to share the most, however. Ace and I have learned from Deuce about his past, we’ve known for some time now. Constant is his worry, just as constant is his change. His warmth and the good of his heart has become more evident than ever, and should Deuce not come to see you soon, we will be the ones to present him to you. (A mere jest. If it were Ace, he would find a way to bring you to the earldom.) That is all I can say for now. With your approval, madam, I hope we could become close correspondents. I would love to tell you more about Deuce, Ace, and myself, as well as know more about you yourself. Faithfully yours, 

Ace’s arm wraps against your shoulder just as you’re signing the letter off with your name, loudly talking your ear off about how he just won against Deuce (as expected, he tells you). It’s a tie now, though you know you won’t correct the tally you mentioned in your letter. 

Deuce, meanwhile, chalks it all up to luck, some sleight of hand the earl must have pulled, and swears he’ll beat him tomorrow. You want to tell Deuce to try twice as hard, just so you won’t tell his mother a lie. Instead, you joke that they both need to try harder else you come out as next year’s victor. 

They’re shouting now, mostly about how you’ve finally picked up their competitive spirit, about how you’re challenging them, about how they won’t go easy on you and about how you shouldn’t go easy on them. It’s a whole lot of noise one after another but, unsurprisingly, it fits your very idea of a peaceful day.

“You’re smiling. Is that your way of saying you’re confident you’ll beat us?” You stare at Ace for a moment, wondering if you’ll lie, before shaking your head.

“Not at all. I’m just happy.”

You don’t play it for laughs or take it back, finding comfort in the fact that you can leave the truth just as that. 

“What has made you so softhearted, huh?” You know you’ve got them when Ace can only scratch his neck and Deuce can only cover his ears, perhaps knowing it would match the hue of his liege’s hair. “As long as you're happy, then.”

It’s a rare moment of silence in the estate, and while you know one of the three of you will break it soon enough, you appreciate it while it lasts. You think to yourself, even the quiet can be peaceful, too. Peace is, and yet beyond, the volume of one’s chatter, the clashing of their swords; the quietness of their breaths and the unheard beat of their hearts. 

Beyond sound, peace is a place, a place you have found with them.

end notes | masterlist

[ 1 ] Decided to just leave the details about Reader’s tassel (from Ace) and handkerchief (from Deuce) blank, mostly since I didn’t feel too comfortable assigning something for them.

[ 2 ] As per my research, “In the Regency period (1811 - 1820) it was very expensive to send a letter. The cost of postage could be as much as a day's wages for a working man”. Of course, Deuce and the Reader have Ace to pay for the letter since they’re all sending it together (and I am not going for historical accuracy, lol), but I figured they’d still be conscious to cut to the chase to write as much as possible per sheet of paper.