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bluebellhairpin · 5 months ago

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Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader

Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)

Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).

Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link

Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north.

Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay.

For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less.

With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too.

“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”

“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.”

“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach.

“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?”

“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.”

Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone.

“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”

“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.”

“I may not want to rest.”

“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.”

“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”

He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal.

“I might not be leaving you completely alone.”

“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow.

“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”

“-I? Forcing your hand?”

“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”

“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers.

Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back.

Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over.

“What is that?” you asked.

“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed.

It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be?

“A direwolf?”

“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.”

While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good.

“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.”

“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan’s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.”

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was.

“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”

“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”

Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do.

The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker.

He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried.

Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close.

Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake.

Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned.

It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere.

You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge.

He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive.

Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.

The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds.

The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless.

The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.

“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder.

Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling.

“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease.

The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned.

You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck.

“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears.

“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.”

You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was.

You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.

A week later, Cregan returned.

You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour.

So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach.

You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand.

“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms.

“Indeed he will.” Cregan said.

“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway.

“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug.

“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?”

“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.”

“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.”

“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.”

Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his.

“I love you.” he said.

“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek.

“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”

#cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #hotd x reader #hotd x you

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reasonsforhope · 7 months ago

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"A 1-megawatt sand battery that can store up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy will be 10 times larger than a prototype already in use.

The new sand battery will eliminate the need for oil-based energy consumption for the entire town of town of Pornainen, Finland.

Sand gets charged with clean electricity and stored for use within a local grid.

Finland is doing sand batteries big. Polar Night Energy already showed off an early commercialized version of a sand battery in Kankaanpää in 2022, but a new sand battery 10 times that size is about to fully rid the town of Pornainen, Finland of its need for oil-based energy.

In cooperation with the local Finnish district heating company Loviisan Lämpö, Polar Night Energy will develop a 1-megawatt sand battery capable of storing up to 100 megawatt hours of thermal energy.

“With the sand battery,” Mikko Paajanen, CEO of Loviisan Lämpö, said in a statement, “we can significantly reduce energy produced by combustion and completely eliminate the use of oil.”

Polar Night Energy introduced the first commercial sand battery in 2022, with local energy utility Vatajankoski. “Its main purpose is to work as a high-power and high-capacity reservoir for excess wind and solar energy,” Markku Ylönen, Polar Nigh Energy’s co-founder and CTO, said in a statement at the time. “The energy is stored as heat, which can be used to heat homes, or to provide hot steam and high temperature process heat to industries that are often fossil-fuel dependent.” ...

Sand—a high-density, low-cost material that the construction industry discards [Note: 6/13/24: Turns out that's not true! See note at the bottom for more info.] —is a solid material that can heat to well above the boiling point of water and can store several times the amount of energy of a water tank. While sand doesn’t store electricity, it stores energy in the form of heat. To mine the heat, cool air blows through pipes, heating up as it passes through the unit. It can then be used to convert water into steam or heat water in an air-to-water heat exchanger. The heat can also be converted back to electricity, albeit with electricity losses, through the use of a turbine.

In Pornainen, Paajanen believes that—just by switching to a sand battery—the town can achieve a nearly 70 percent reduction in emissions from the district heating network and keep about 160 tons of carbon dioxide out of the atmosphere annually. In addition to eliminating the usage of oil, they expect to decrease woodchip combustion by about 60 percent.

The sand battery will arrive ready for use, about 42 feet tall and 49 feet wide. The new project’s thermal storage medium is largely comprised of soapstone, a byproduct of Tulikivi’s production of heat-retaining fireplaces. It should take about 13 months to get the new project online, but once it’s up and running, the Pornainen battery will provide thermal energy storage capacity capable of meeting almost one month of summer heat demand and one week of winter heat demand without recharging.

“We want to enable the growth of renewable energy,” Paajanen said. “The sand battery is designed to participate in all Fingrid’s reserve and balancing power markets. It helps to keep the electricity grid balanced as the share of wind and solar energy in the grid increases.”"

-via Popular Mechanics, March 13, 2024

Note: I've been keeping an eye on sand batteries for a while, and this is really exciting to see. We need alternatives to lithium batteries ASAP, due to the grave human rights abuses and environmental damage caused by lithium mining, and sand batteries look like a really good solution for grid-scale energy storage.

Note 6/13/24: Unfortunately, turns out there are substantial issues with sand batteries as well, due to sand scarcity. More details from a lovely asker here, sources on sand scarcity being a thing at the links: x, x, x, x, x

#sand #sand battery #lithium #lithium battery #batteries #technology news #renewable energy #clean energy #fossil fuels #renewables #finland #good news #hope #climate hope

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woncon · 1 month ago

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➳ sick duty.

➶ poly!ateez x gn!reader (yungisang focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Yunho is sick, and you and Yeosang are on sick duty. When the others still haven't arrived with jelly, you decide to go to the nearest shop in the raging storm and buy some, because Yunho really wants them.

➴ genre: slice of life, sickfic, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au

: ̗̀➛ warnings: yungisang focus, but everyone gets screen time, poor yunho has a fever, one sexually suggestive offer, petnames, nudity

⌨ :: 3.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ This idea came to me when I saw a double rainbow in early June while listening to Golden Hour Pt1. It was supposed to play in the summer, but I never got to the end. Now autumn came and I decided to write it. But in this rainy, gloomy weather it seemed better to set it in a more autumnal setting. That changed my basic idea a lot, but I'm happy with it as it is.

⁀➷ My lovely @wonsheep, I'm still sorry the rain poured on you so heavily on Wednesday. :( But it was very motivating, as you can see. Many thanks for reading through the story and founding my silly mistakes!

➳ mlist

I'm hot.

I want tea.

I'm cold.

The sickly season of the autumn-winter months spares no one. Yunho, who is hard to dislodge from whatever well-endowed giraffe's legs he has, is now curled up in the middle of the bed, disconsolate because he didn't pull on a thick enough scarf, or was carelessly underdressed in the living room, or simply spent too much time around a co-worker who has been lurking with some virus. Whichever the case, the poor guy is in a terrible mood.

"I want medicine," he whispers his next wish.

You look at your watch.

“One more hour before you can take the next one,” you say, brushing his hair away to touch his sweat beaded forehead. It's still as warm as underfloor heating.

Frustrated, he rolls to the side and buries his head fully into the pillow. You drop your hands back into your lap, helpless. It's simply exasperating to watch him suffer, to listen to his snotty, ragged breathing mix with the rain beating against the window.

“Do you want something to help?” you ask, when he turns to you again and raises his feverish eyes to you. The skin around his nose is flushed from all the blowing.

“Jelly.”

Yunho is convinced that jelly sweets can help him. Or at least when he's sick, he likes to eat sweets. Other times, not so much. Unfortunately, you guys weren't prepared for Yunho being sick in the near future. Plus, there's a storm brewing, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. It's been raining steadily for a week now, sometimes more, sometimes less. The others went to do the shopping with the car, leaving Yunho behind with the promise to bring him some jelly. He responded with a small, grateful smile.

Now, looking at his tortured expression, you would give a lot to see that smile again, the hope in his eyes. You reach out and take his hand. You sigh. Gently, slowly, you caress the back of his hand, knowing how sensitive he is to touch when he has a fever. You don't want to overdo it and hurt him, but at the same time you want to let him know physically that you're there for him.

"It's on the way." You really hope it is. The last time Jongho called, they were already at the checkout. Your youngest friend boasted that they were bringing five full bags of jelly beans. That was about twenty minutes ago. No news since then. It bothers you that you can't offer an immediate solution to Yunho's every wish.

Before Yunho can ask any more questions, the door opens. Yeosang arrives with a tray holding a steaming mug and something wrapped in napkins that you can't identify yet. With cautious steps, he moves to the other side of the bed among some discarded clothes - because Yunho didn't want to shower this morning, just threw everything off the bed he'd chosen as his regular place - and then takes a seat, placing the tray safely on the bedside table, gently moving Seonghwa's half-finished book.

“I've brought the tea," he says to Yunho. "And I found some biscuits to go with it."

Interested, the patient moves up on the pillow, but still looks vulnerable. Yeosang holds the cup in his hand and gives the man small sips. Meanwhile, you get up and gather up the laundry strewn around the bed and take it to the bathroom. On the way, you hear a conversation emanating from the kitchen, from which you hear the word 'jelly bean' clearly spoken at one point. So after throwing the laundry in the hamper, you go to the kitchen instead of the bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of hot water and tea leaves. Mingi is putting away the tea ingredients. The call is already finished, his phone is on the counter.

Originally, Mingi wouldn’t be on sick duty today. Today's subordinates are you and Yeosang, Mingi just didn't want to leave the apartment in this crazy weather and he’s helping you instead. It's not like this sick duty thing is strict in your relationship, and it's set in stone that Mingi can only nurse Yunho on Mondays and Fridays and holidays or anything. That said, there are rules. For example, Mingi usually only needs one nurse when he gets a cold or something more serious, but at such times it is Yunho for most of the time. Then there's Jongho, who, if he falls ill, no matter what the schedule, has all eight of you at his disposal twenty-four hours a day. Or, again, there's Seonghwa, who hides the fact that he's sick until it's too obvious, and you're all freaking out as to why he won't let you take care of him.

Yunho usually hardly gets sick. When he does, even a mild cold will get him down. And when he is ill, he's even fussier than the sick Wooyoung, and only one lover has a hard time coping with his demands. Usually two people are enough to care for him if there are jelly beans nearby. Which, for now, there aren’t.

“Are they on their way home?” you ask Mingi, who's packing honey.

"It's worse downtown than here," he says. "The traffic's bad. They're just moving towards home inch by inch."

You both look out of the window, and the tapping of the rain remains as unrelenting as the fever that plagues Yunho.

“Is the tea to his liking?”

“I'm sure of it,” you smile at him. Mingi is usually insecure when it comes to Yunho's well-being. You suspect that the boy's illness was a more significant reason for Mingi to stay home than his desire not to get wet. “But you can ask him.”

You return to the bedroom with Mingi at your side. You remind yourself that this room now functions as a ward. The patient is huddled near the edge of the bed, munching on biscuits soaked in tea, so that they don't scratch his throat.

“It's not jelly,” he mutters, then pulls away from Yeosang and lies back on the upholstered cushions.

You look at Yeosang. Your theory is that you're thinking the exact same thing. If jelly beans are the only thing that helps your boyfriend, you'll do anything to get them. You're even willing to go to the convenience store in the pouring rain, because when you are on sick duty, Yunho mustn't lack anything.

"We'll go and get jelly beans," you say. Yeosang nods his head in commitment.

“We'll go?” Mingi looks terrified. “All of us?”

You can't leave Yunho alone in this state. It's a good thing that Mingi is here, in addition to Yeosang and you, ready for action, and not stuck in traffic with the others downtown.

“No. You stay here with Yunho and look after him.”

Mingi continues to blink.

“We'll be quick, don't worry, you don't have to multitask. Yuyu will probably fall asleep soon.”

"It's not me I'm worried about," he protests, "You'll get wet and cold."

"The store is not far away. We won't have enough time in the rain to freeze to death."

Yeosang wraps Yunho in a blanket and kisses him on the head.

"Mingi?" The man folded in a burrito addresses the worried individual.

“Yes?”

“Gimme a hug.”

Mingi doesn't resist, but climbs onto the bed, swapping places with Yeosang, who pats his shoulder as he passes. Before you even leave the room, you hear Mingi apologize and ask for Yunho's forgiveness.

Yeosang sticks the umbrella out the door. Just a little to test how much it rains. There's really barely any surface out, but the wind immediately grabs it and tugs it further. He pulls it back in time before the umbrella swings out or the wind wins, and you close the door with a great struggle, which also wants to jump off its hinges from the violent gusts of wind.

“I think this will stay here,” Yeosang says, and then drops the solid black umbrella behind you.

You zip up your raincoat. It occurs to you that maybe Mingi is right, and you're so wet you'll get stuck in a puddle of icy water. Yet the idea doesn't discourage you, doesn't make you stay, because Yunho needs the jellies.

Yeosang adjusts his hood, then holds out his hand. You embrace him tightly. You check your wallet stashed in the waterproof pocket one last time and place your hand on the doorknob. Then you push it down. The door swings open, and you let it drag you along with it. The back of your coat gets soaked immediately. The rain doesn't fall, it instead pours down from behind in a wave with the wind. Clinging on to Yeosang in vain, it's hard to keep up your own pace and not lurch forward like a rag doll. It's a wonder your boyfriend can close the door.

Although the shop is indeed a block away, at this time it feels like you're wandering for eternity. For one thing, the scenery is completely different in the rain, it's harder to navigate, especially in the raging, commanding wind. Around one corner, Yeosang has to pull you in, because out of nowhere a car appears, its wheels gallantly splashing a full puddle onto the pavement.

Somehow, you do reach the store. As soon as the automatic door closes behind you, the storm is out of the way. Inside, the weather is pleasant. Only the clothes clinging to your skin and the small puddles and mud stains on the floor left by other shoppers are reminders of what a doomsday is happening outside.

“Huh,” you sigh in relief. The first game of the war against weather is over. You only have one more to go to succeed in the jelly bean mission.

“We're crazy," Yeosang shakes his head in disbelief. Then he smiles up at you, sweetly and lovingly, because he's proud you're crazy. You return it.

Insanity is part of sick duty to some extent. Last time San must have used up thirty tissues a day, and ran out in the middle of the week. Hongjoong ran so fast to replace the used-up packets that he was almost hit by a truck. And when you were sick and craving nothing but a mug of hot tomato soup when all the shops were closed and there were no tomatoes at home, only ketchup... Well, Jongho tried.

You purposefully seek out sweets. Luckily, you don't have to wander around and scout the place, you'll often find yourself here. You take off two bags of Yunho's favourite flavour, sour apple. You remember again how pitiful your otherwise healthy and cheerful boyfriend looks.

“This will help him,” Yeosang says encouragingly, as if he's reading your mind.

You nod, then head for the cashier. You get in line. From here, you can see the window and the rain pouring down.

For the first time since the jelly bean plan was born, you have time to think about Mingi's excuse when he cuddled up to Yunho. It's my fault. I'm sorry. But how could it be his fault that Yunho caught a cold?

You're rewinding the previous two weeks. Yunho was in home office the whole time. He really enjoyed it, and when he wasn't working, he was playing video games. He didn't put his foot out until one time when he had to pop down to the shop for something. It didn't rain so heavily that day, just a gentle drizzle. Maybe Mingi had taken off Yunho's blanket one night? It couldn't be, either, because they'd been sleeping far apart lately.

It's your turn, so you suspend your musings. When you get back, you'll ask Mingi and hope it's not too embarrassing for him not to tell you. If he feels guilty, you could help him and reassure him that it's not his fault.

You and Yeosang pay. You put the bags in your coat pockets. You pull the hood up, not that it matters. You cling together again, then step out onto the soggy pavement.

The way back is harder. This time the wind brings the rain from the front. Each blast smacks you in the face. Neither of your hoods can stay up. Your hair gets wet, the rain drips under your coat. You successfully step into a puddle, literally splashing in the muddy water, and the inside of your boots get soaked. You're wet everywhere, from your elbows to your toes. It's really annoying, but you don't falter, clutching Yeosang's arm until you reach the sheltering door of your home to drop in like two wet rags on the threshold and with a combined effort you shut out the cold, ominous wind. Yeosang slides along the door, his hair leaving a wet streak on the wooden panel.

“We did it,” he sighs, and proudly rattles one of the jelly beans he pulls out of his pocket. The bag is intact, of course.

“We did,” you agree, and pull him up off the ground.

Suddenly you're faced with the problem of not knowing what to take off first because everything is equally soaked. It's almost as if your clothes are the cool part of your skin, plus outer layers. Finally, following your boyfriend's example, you throw your coat on the floor first, then your shoes on the doormat, and socks after.

Before you reach for the next layer of clothing, there is the sound of footsteps. You think Mingi is coming, but when he sighs, you realize it's not your tall lover.

“You guys are adorable and dedicated, but silly at the same time," says Hongjoong with crossed arms.

“But at least Yunho’s jellies will hold out until he heals,” answers Yeosang, taking off his shirt.

“When did you arrive?” you ask.

“About a minute ago. But we'll talk later. Now go take a shower before you too end up feverishly next to Yunho,” Hongjoong advises, then retreats and San steps forward. He unconcealedly runs his eyes over Yeosang's naked torso, and yours, which still has your shirt stuck to it, rather tightly, so it might even be useless.

“If you get sick, I'll be on sick duty every day. The thing is, the adorable, dedicated, silly people are just my type” he winks.

“Move over, Sanie," Wooyoung appears and nudges the other one in the side, "You promised to help hyung pack up.”

San hums and walks away, but still smiles in your direction. You all love to oblige Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and that goes for when there's an opportunity to flirt as well.

“You two are sexy, all wet,” Wooyoung admits. “If you need help with the shower, let me know. I'll be within earshot.”

“We'll consider it,” you promise. Wooyoung nods with a grin, and he also retreats to the kitchen.

You pass through the hallway, but before you can go to the bathroom, Jongho stands in front of you with a plate of jelly beans. “Here. I thought you should be the ones to give it to him. You made a greater sacrifice, and most of us stayed dry. Except for Hwa hyung, who opened the door and held the umbrella.”

“Thank you,” you say at the same time. While Yeosang takes the bowl, you press a kiss on Jongho's cheek.

When you retire to the bedroom, the scene is quite cozy. Yunho is in bed, hugging Mingi, craving jelly beans, and you offer him what he craves most, and what you fought Mother Nature for.

“We got it,” you report.

Yunho snaps his head up. The mere hope brings life to his sick features. You stand by the bed, careful not to get rainwater on it.

“Here, hyung," Yeosang hands the bowl to him in a soft whisper.

“I hope you weren’t too desperate, baby. We hurried as much as we could.”

“You're the best," says Yunho, touched, between bites. “I love you.”

“We love you too, giant baby. Very much,” you assure him.

And he smiles up at you. The mission is a complete success. Whether all that time and getting soaked was enough to put you to bed remains to be seen. In the meantime, you bask in success.

Mingi sneezes. Then he reaches under the pillow and takes out a handkerchief. “My throat may be a tiny bit scratchy.”

“Should we set up someone on sick duty for you too?” Yeosang offers readily.

“Our poor boyfriends,” you sigh, watching them. Yunho in the midst of illness, Mingi as he probably slips into a state of flux.

“I deserve it,” murmurs Mingi, looking ruefully at Yunho.

“Why do you think so?” you ask the question that has been nagging at you for a good twenty minutes.

“When we ran out of milk last week, Yunho and I went to the grocery store... I offered to make out with him in the rain. It didn't rain much, and there was no wind. Still, that's how Yunho got cold.”

"Come on," the other protests hoarsely. He sucks on a jelly bean with great enthusiasm. You wouldn't believe he can taste it. “You offered, I agreed, I could have said no, but I didn't. All in all, it was worth it.”

“Worth it?” Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “You were dying before the jelly arrived.”

"If you haven't kissed Mingi in the rain, you won't understand," he declares, then turns to Mingi. “Want a jelly, princess?

Yeosang and you leave them alone, let them romance each other in the infirmary. Barefoot, you stomp off to the bathroom. You open the door, and a thick, fragrant steam rises from the room. A pleasant warm breeze reminds you how cold you are. You hurry inside. Yeosang closes the door to keep the comforting steam from escaping.

Seonghwa is already drying his hair and got dressed. You look at him expectantly, ready to be reprimanded. But he has no such plans. He takes your face with one hand and Yeosang's with the other. “I am proud of you. Take a bath, then we can watch a movie. We made a whole list while we were stuck in traffic.”

Yeosang hums, you nod in response. Good idea. At this time of year, there's no point in doing anything other than curling up on the sofa together.

You bask in Seonghwa's soft touch until the last moment, and the knowledge that he's proud of you. It's really enjoyable to play good cop, bad cop with Hongjoong, and they don’t scold you twice. Regardless, you need to figure out a way to cheer up that boyfriend of yours who called you adorable, dedicated, and silly all at the same time.

“So he probably caught it while kissing,” you acknowledge what you've heard by tugging your trousers down after Seonghwa has left you alone.

“Interesting.”

“And understandable. Sounds romantic.”

“Do you want to go back?” Yeosang glances up at you as he pulls towels out of the closet. The look in his eyes is willing. It embarrasses you to know that he would take a single word from you and go back with you into the pouring rain to fulfill that desire.

“I wouldn’t do it in this weather. But, for example, standing in a cool summer drizzle, refreshing after the heat. When me and my partner won’t be so likely to have a fever for a week.”

“Last summer Woo did it with someone. I think it was with Sanie, but I'm not sure. Maybe he caught Hongjoong hyung in a moment of weakness.”

“Really? Is it fashionable to kiss in the rain in our relationship?”

“A bit.” Yeosang undresses completely.

Your hand is over the laundry basket, you've dropped the last of your clothes in it, yet you don't move. You’re looking at Yeosang. At his naked back, how rainwater is dripping from his hair, onto his delicate muscles. The line of his shoulder blades as his back narrows, ending in the lovely hips you'd hold in your hands for days. And of course you can't neglect his ass or his thighs or his whole being, because once you start looking at him, one part of him is not enough, and the whole of him is overwhelmingly wonderful.

He turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

“Sure.” You follow him into the bath. You take his face in the palm of your hand and kiss him on the lips. “Wooyoung was right.”

“About what?”

"You're sexy when you're wet," you explain, and at the same time you probably reveal that you were just staring at him.

"He didn't just say that to me, love," he replies, pulling you close. Then he opens the water. The warm, soothing drops fall on your head and drip down your chilled skin. Like rain.

“I have an idea. Let's kiss here like it's raining.”

“Oh,” Yeosang smiles sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek. “Okay.”

And you shower until the hot water runs out.

#ateez x reader #ateez x gn reader #poly ateez x reader #poly ateez #yeosang x reader #yunho x reader #mingi x reader #hongjoong x reader #san x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #seonghwa x reader #gender neutral y/n #ateez fluff #ateez ot8 #poly kpop #ateez oneshot

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

Text

The Arrangement (4) - Solution

Chapter summary: Wyll comes bearing a solution to your predicament with Astarion... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Word count: 3.5k

Previous chapter . Series Masterlist . Ao3

Snow.

Why was it snowing in Baldur's Gate this time of the year?

It didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But there was no denying it when the cold yet tender caresses of snowflakes began to spread across the swell of your cheeks.

A distant voice was calling out to you, but you could only smile blissfully at the warm embrace of its familiarity.

It was as the winter sun that insisted on tearing through storm clouds rolling over the majestic Baldurian mountains: powerful enough to melt the frost away, and unforgiving once its rays shined out the brightest.

The faint scent of bergamot laced with rosemary surrounded you like a soft blanket.

You did recognise that scent… and your smile immediately dropped.

The voice got louder and louder, but your feet were now moving on their own until you were at the edge of a cliff.

Then you plummeted without looking back.

An agonising scream reverberated through your mind like a knife in the dark, twisting and prodding until you jolted awake at once.

Your eyes snapped open and you saw Astarion's face first and felt his icy fingers on your face next.

As a surge of panic and dread took over, you instinctively slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?”

“You were squirming and screaming.”

You quickly propped yourself on your elbows, realising he sat at your feet, brows furrowed and an unreadable look on his face.

Another nightmare? But it hadn't started off like that. They rarely did.

As your eyes roamed along the length of your body, it dawned on you that his scent had made it all the way to your subconscious because his cloak was now covering you.

Noticing your realisation, he cleared his throat. “You were shivering in your sleep. You humans can be so… frail.”

You wish you could hate him. You truly wish you could loathe him with your entire being, especially after your earlier exchange.

It would make it so much easier to overcome the longing feelings you had for him.

But, it would seem, he was bent on making it harder for you and this bond wasn't easily severed on a whim.

Instinctively, you pulled the fabric of his cloak snuggly around your neck as if it would be enough to keep him at bay.

“I would have offered my body heat, if I had any left,” he said with a shrug, pulling one knee up against his chest.

Right.

Vampire.

No body heat unless he was well fed.

“Did I… say anything?”

The last thing you needed right now was for your subconscious to betray you by having you mumble out his name in a suggestive manner.

The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Hard to make out anything intelligible in the midst of all the grunts and moans.”

“Good.”

Hold on… grunts and… moans?

“Oh please, don't look so horrified,” he said with a click of his tongue. “A much welcome distraction considering how tedious it's been in here.”

Typical.

A scowl settled on your face as you shifted across the mattress, pulling your knees up together and increasing the distance between you two.

The faint earthy and citrusy scent of bergamot enveloped you, and your eyes fluttered shut.

For someone who was bound to live in the shadows and prowl the streets after the sun went down, Astarion surely carried the fragrance that resembled Summer days the most.

You didn't feel cold even in this damp-filled cell.

It wasn't even related to the cloak itself, as it wasn't thick enough to make much of a difference.

No.

It was purely an unavoidable consequence of being near him.

Even in his icy coldness, Astarion brought out warmth that would put the most fierce of flames pale in comparison.

“What's on your mind?”

His purring voice snapped you from your thoughts, and you blinked the tiredness away, ignoring his question. “What time is it?”

“Judging from how the guards are way past the threshold of sobriety… my guess is that it's close to midday.”

You slowly dragged yourself up into a sitting position, heaving a deep sigh. “I just want to get out of here.”

“Well, we can.”

“Astarion.”

He turned his head to you. “What? You are a powerful sorcerer. They wouldn't stand a chance.”

It was a proper observation, and it surely wasn't an attempt at stroking your ego. He had seen enough of your abilities to know you could have metal melt if you so desired.

But still… “I'm sure Wyll will come soon.”

He let out a sound of pure discontent. “Yes. Your prince charming shall be here soon to save the day.”

You simply ignored him.

And Astarion hated being ignored.

So, naturally, he made sure he had your attention.

“I would just like to point out that–”

His voice died in your ears as the sound of steady paces echoed across the halls with salutes being exchanged.

You immediately lunged forward, leaving his cloak behind before pressing your face against the bars and gripping them tightly.

“Excuse me? I was talking to you.”

Astarion's outrage would have to be put on hold for the time being.

You recognised that voice and that level of respect mimicked by the guards outside.

“Wyll!”

Astarion joined your side in an instant, as the Grand Duke came into sight.

His face was heavy and he didn't bear a reassuring smile. It was such a foreign look on him, it gave you whiplash.

Your hopeful smile eventually dropped as he approached you.

“My friends, what an unfortunate turn of events.”

He placed one hand atop yours and you nodded eagerly. “Please. We are not guilty of whatever they are accusing us of.”

His young face eased slightly. “So you haven't committed any crime?”

“That's the general definition,” Astarion chimed him, visibly annoyed.

“Why am I not surprised you are involved in this?” Wyll retorted, but his words – unlike Astarion's – held no ill-intent.

“Oh, I thought you were aware that I'm the root of all evil in Baldur's Gate?” he said, voice dripping with cutthroat sarcasm. “Your psychic powers must be below par as of late, Wyll.”

You shot him a death glare, wanting nothing more than to cast Silence on him.

However, Wyll let out a loud and heartfelt laughter that had the other prisoners whine and rattle against the bars of their enclosure.

“Charming as always – even under such dire circumstances.”

Astarion's lips held the fakest smile ever. “Glad I could be of entertainment.”

“Especially considering that I'm most likely your only way out of this.” Wyll said in a tone that prickled the hair at the nape of your neck.

Great.

Astarion and his never-ending ability to annoy people beyond oblivion.

“Yes, I'm sure Circus of the Last Days is one clown short,” you said maliciously, side-eyeing him. “Maybe he'd prefer it over there.”

He dreaded clowns in a way that was almost comical, and your remark was enough to silence him at once, but not without having him shoot daggers with his intense stare.

Wyll cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on you. “Listen. I believe in your innocence, my friend.”

Your heart soared high.

“However…”

Ah, yes. There was always an inconvenient ‘however’ somewhere.

“I must look into this matter further, as the Council of Four demands. If it were solely up to me, I would have you out of here right now.”

Your heart plummeted to the ground at once.

“But it is up to you. You have the final word,” Astarion pointed out.

“Be it as it may, I cannot favour acquaintances when an alleged crime is committed.”

Astarion scoffed. “Demoting us from friends to acquaintances in under thirty seconds. My, my… and you worried I was the power-hungry one of the group.”

Wyll placed his hand on your shoulder and you glared intensely at him. “Give me a few hours, and I will see to it that you get out of here.”

He wasn't being deceitful in the slightest. Wyll's sense of righteousness and moral compass were nearly always fine tuned.

Besides, you had nothing to fear.

Justice was on your side.

But there was clearly someone out there who wasn't, and that made your skin crawl.

Which begged the question… “Why do you believe in our innocence? I mean… I was expecting an interrogation at the very least.”

He gave you a sincere smile of affection. “My dear friend, I know you well enough to doubt your words. This crime doesn't suit you. Besides, across those weeks together, I was able to find hope where there was none. You joined forces with the unlikeliest of allies and turned on potential ones to help us all out – to help Baldur's Gate.”

A looming sense of discomfort was brewing deep inside as his words hit you.

It wasn't so much that he was exaggerating or singing praises that you were undeserving of, but you would have never made it that far on your own.

Not without him.

Or even without Astarion.

“This city is indebted to you,” he went on, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I am sure this misunderstanding will be resolved soon, but I'm afraid protocols and bureaucracy must still be addressed properly.”

You reluctantly nodded, knowing deep down that he was right.

His position was one that came with great responsibility, and it would be folly of him to not act in accordance to what was expected of him as Grand Duke.

“If you wish, I could have you moved to an overground cell – just in case Astarion is being too overbearing,” he quickly added.

“No, no. I reckon I can withstand a few more hours in his presence before losing my sanity,” you chuckled at him.

“You do know I can hear you, don't you?” Astarion said with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

“I shall have some fruit sent over.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and turned his head to Astarion. “Is there anything I can get you?”

“Yes, you can get me out of here.”

Wyll pursed his lips firmly together.

You hit with a ‘be nice’ scowl, which had him heave a deep sigh. “Alright, alright. I don't require any blood just yet. Our dear friend was kind enough to let me feed on her a few days ago.”

“Right.”

Wyll wasn't amused in the slightest and you couldn't blame him. It wasn't an ideal arrangement, and he was a monster hunter at heart, which only fueled his dislike for Astarion boasting about it.

With a final nod, he took his leave even as prisoners banged on the bars of their cells in a failed attempt at taunting him.

Once again, you pressed your forehead against the bars. “We're getting out of here soon.”

Astarion was leaning on his side against the door, eyeing you. “You know, darling… I do wonder if you're trying to convince me or yourself at this point.”

You didn't reply.

But it was probably both.

“So… who do you think got us into this mess?”

“Oh, I do so love guessing games,” he said, securing the cloak around him before sitting down on his mattress. “Well, I'm sure our list of foes didn't thin out even with the heroic display to save the city.”

Good point.

You took a hungry bite from an apple. “Hmm… it'd be less of a nuisance to just kill us, no?”

“If by ‘us’ you mean ‘you’, then sure. I don't die easily, as I know you're aware, darling.”

Another good point, even though a wooden stake might beg to differ.

“Maybe it really is just one big misunderstanding.”

“... but?”

You glared at him with furrowed brows. “But what?”

He shrugged. “Isn't there always a ‘but’?”

Your mind had begun to wander into other possibilities, each new one more alarming than the previous.

It was particularly daunting to wonder whether this Ava woman had had a hand in this.

Should you even bring it up to him? Maybe.

“Well?” He pressed, crimson eyes never leaving yours. “I know you have something on your mind, so feel free to share with the audience, darling.”

You hesitated at first, unsure it would be the wisest choice. He was clearly fond of her, but you just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she could be up to something.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Maybe you were simply allowing your protective feelings over Astarion to get in the way and cloud your judgment.

Maybe she was nothing more than a mere courtesan and not some scheming criminal.

Besides… what reason would she have to frame both of you for this?

The more you thought about it, the more ridiculous it sounded, so you chose to keep it to yourself.

“I'm inclined to believe we were set up, but I don't know by whom,” you eventually said, not intending on passing out accusations just yet.

His eyes narrowed. “You're not being truthful.”

Thrown for a loop, you blinked. “You think I'm lying?”

“I know you're lying.”

You gave him a sour glare. “I suppose it takes one to know one.”

He actually genuinely laughed at your remark. “Touché, my dear.”

One didn't easily win the title of charlatan over nothing, after all.

He'd spent decades honing his skill in the art of deception, which had you falling for his sweet lies so easily when you two first met.

Not wanting to go down that road, you shove the memory aside and focused on the apple in your hand instead.

Silence settled heavily around you, only broken by your occasional bites.

The door to the prison hall swung open all of a sudden, but neither of you shifted.

It was probably nightfall by now, and you had gotten used to the intrusive sounds that erupted from time to time.

Hurried steps caught your attention and you turned to find Wyll by the bars.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as a lightning bolt with Astarion following suit.

“You're getting out of here.”

An overwhelming wave of relief washed over you and you could nearly cry of joy.

“Finally. Took you long enough.” Astarion said.

Wyll's face dropped slightly. “It is not without compromise, I'm afraid.”

Oh.

It was to be expected, really…

“The council has agreed to further the investigations without the need of imprisonment, so long as you stay confined to your place for the time being,” he went on, as two Fists joined his side, carrying your belongings. “With two guards stationed outside at all times.”

“Essentially treating us like criminals, then,” Astarion scoffed, clearly put out.

“You are suspected of being criminals,” Wyll pointed out. “I am quite certain it will only be for a couple of days, so do not fret.”

It seemed like a fair deal and, at this point, you would give anything to get out of this prison.

“Wait – hold on. What do you mean ‘your place’?”

Wyll glared at him in confusion. “Aren't you staying with the rest of the group?”

“No?” He pulled out a face of disgust as if Wyll had just implied he had been offered to share an accommodation with a pack of stinky gnolls.

“I did invite him – more than once.”

“And I declined every single time.”

You rolled your eyes.

As much as you had earlier wished to part ways with Astarion after that heated argument, you were more than willing to move past that for the greater good.

“Well, now would be an opportune time to accept the invitation,” Wyll said, motioning for the guards to unlock the door. “You will be escorted back to your place and await further instructions.”

Grabbing your belongings, you hurried past the door to walk alongside Wyll while both guards flanked you.

“What about my clothes? I need a couple of changes, then,” Astarion inquired as he expertly fastened the dagger holsters around his thigh and waist. “I'm staying at The Blushing Mermaid.”

He did have an interesting set of priorities, given the current predicament…

“We will have someone fetch it for you.”

“Ask for a woman named Ava. She will know what to pack.”

Wyll nodded in silence.

You nearly scoffed, but managed to disguise it as a throaty cough, which earned Wyll's attention.

“I'm afraid these dungeons are riddled with dust and present less than ideal conditions, my friend.”

You cleared your throat with a faint remorseful smile, already feeling guilty for your deception.

The torch-lit tunnel extended as far as the eye could see, and it seemed like forever before you finally made it topside.

The barracks were buzzing with whispers and intense glares, with each Flaming Fist saluting the Grand Duke as he made his way through the building.

A quick glance through the window and you realised the sun had already set.

Convenient for Astarion.

Wyll's feet came to a halt before the closed shut and sturdy double door.

“I am terribly sorry that we had to meet again under such grim circumstances, but I trust this matter will be resolved soon.”

You gave him a warm smile of gratitude. “Thank you for this, Wyll. I'm sure you were met with resistance.”

He chuckled. “Quite the resistance, but I believe being power-hungry does hold its advantages, right, Astarion?”

“I suppose.”

There was not a single part of Wyll that was power-hungry. He had earned the title and his position within Baldur's Gate elite. No one was more deserving of it.

“A ‘thank you’ would suffice, but I'm guessing that's as close to it as I'll get,” Wyll said in amusement as Astarion frowned.

You gave him a fleeting hug, earning some disapproving glares – including from Astarion.

“Thank you, Wyll.”

“You are most welcome. We'll talk soon.”

Parting ways, you stepped into the night with both Flaming Fists following closely behind.

“Well, I'm glad that's been dealt with.” You said in an attempt to break the layer of silence.

“Hardly. I'm merely hopping from one prison to another,” he muttered bitterly. “But I suppose it could be worse.”

As you hurried along the busy city streets, you noticed the inquisitive glares from passers-by. After all, being escorted by two guards often meant trouble.

“Come to think of it, this is entirely your fault.”

Your head snapped at him. “What?”

He nodded. “If you hadn't cast Sleep, we wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”

You scolwed. “Seriously, Astarion? You were about to gut him open!”

“It would have been a better fate than what he actually deserved,” he bit back. “But that damned swirly pink spell drew too much attention.”

You shouldn't have been surprised that he was lashing out, but it still annoyed you to no end that he refused to acknowledge his part in this.

“You have some nerve to pin this on me when you were the one causing a ruckus.”

He was glaring at you like you'd just grown a third arm. “Remind me again who yelled out as they were casting a spell.”

“I didn't yell–”

One of the guards behind you cleared his throat, effectively silencing you.

Arguing with Astarion was about as pointless as fighting the sun from rising. He always had to have the final word.

You sighed. “This is pointless.”

“Agreed.”

As your house came into view, you began to make out a couple of figures by the door.

Gale and Shadowheart.

You heard Astarion immediately scoff once you were close enough. “Please be quiet.”

Gale frowned slightly. “What? I didn't utter a single word.”

“Oh, I know. I'm just practicing this line for the future.”

Shadowheart intervened before the wizard could. “Wyll informed us of what happened. Are you well?”

You nodded. “Within reason.”

She embraced you tightly. “I am sure this will all be resolved soon.”

“A very bizarre event, no doubt,” Gale said, patting your back affectionately. “This city is crawling with the most vile of creatures, indeed.”

The three of you made your way inside, and a dramatic cough was heard.

You turned to see Astarion standing by the doorway, and then it dawned on you that he would need a literal verbal invitation in order to walk in.

“Oh! Right… sorry… you may come in, Astarion.”

He didn't need to be told twice, taking careful steps at first just in case.

Upon concluding it was safe to continue, he made his way into the kitchen area, taking in his surroundings in silence.

Lae'zel was nowhere to be found, and you reckoned she might have gone out to hunt in the surrounding Baldurian woods.

“Your belongings are upstairs, already,” Shadowheart informed him as she leaned against a wood pillar. “I wasn't sure how to make a vampire abode feel more homely in such short notice, so you'll have to excuse the lack of frivolous and decadent decoration.”

He waved a hand dismissively, heading towards the staircase. “No need to concern yourself with it, darling. I'm not staying for long.”

You watched him round the corner and disappear into the hall.

“Your room is to your left, Astarion,” you called after him.

His footsteps halted and you smiled in amusement.

“Ah – yes. I was merely taking a look,” he said, reappearing at the top of the staircase again with a disapproving look on his face. “I must say… awful and dull decoration. This has Gale written all over it.”

You reckoned having Astarion stay over would prove more of a challenge than you had initially anticipated.

Series Masterlist

Sharing a house with Astarion under such circumstances.... what could possibly go wrong 😌

Next chapter: Confrontation

I don't keep taglists, so feel free to subscribe to it on Ao3 to get alerts 🩷

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion angst #astarion scenario

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iwas-princess · 2 years ago

Note

request: y/n and suna come back from an event that went on too long and she’s too tired to do her skincare and change so he does it for her? i love seeing the pinterest couple pics where the girl is sitting on the counter and he’s brushing her teeth and washing her face for her 💗💗 ty so much for your consideration 🥰

suna rintaro • love sick

“wait just a second, princess.” suna instructed you, his right hand opening his car door as he spoke.

you halted your movements, pausing the action of unbuckling your seatbelt out of obedience for him. you already assumed what he was going to do, it was a unwritten rule of his every time the two of you went out.

your hands tuckered back into your lap as you watched him exit the car, catching him sending a wink your way as he shut the driver door, leaving you alone in the warm interior as he jogged around the front of the car, nearly slipping on ice ungracefully.

you let out a worried yelp at the slip of his foot, but was soon relieved when he grinned at you as a way of reassurance.

“jesus.” you mumbled to yourself, nearly having a heart attack just then.

rintaro walked it off like nothing had happened, smoothly recomposing himself for your view only. if it wasn’t for the freezing temperatures, you would have been able to notice the bright blush on his cheeks from embarrassment. but he played himself off well, as usual.

when he got to your side of the car, he hesitated slightly before opening the door. it would be cold out here for you, and you were exhausted, nearly spent already from socializing all night with friends. the sudden, harsh winter air would make you displeased and shivering for a few fleeting moments before entering the house, and suna just couldn’t have that.

he couldn’t have his precious princess be cold for any more than a millisecond or else he’s be very disappointed within himself.

deciding what his solution would be, he help up one finger at you through the window, signaling for you to be patient for one moment and he’d explain the change of plans later.

“what?” you questioned him, but he could only read your lips through the thick glass.

“one minute, baby. i’m going to go do something really quickly, hold on.” he halfheartedly explained.

you understood what you needed to in order to ask no more questions— both exhausted and lack of communication being a result.

your eyes followed him as he walked to the front door of your shared home, unlocking it and entering the house before shutting the door behind him after blowing you a gentle kiss for good measure, a way of telling you that everything is okay and he’ll be back shortly.

you sat back in the seat tiredly, the heated interior keeping you in a nice warm hug while you waited for him.

after only a few fleeting moments, you had forgotten about rintaro and found yourself falling into a soft slumber.

“c’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside.”

you awoke slightly when strong arms wrapped around your body, closely holding you tightly to his chest to secure and comfort you as he lifted you carefully out of the car, nudging the door closed with his knee once your were fully outside and safe in his arms.

“rinnie?” you sleepily mumbled, your eyes still closed gently as you called out to him.

he glanced down at you as he began to walk up the driveway, a small smile on his face at your sleepy state.

“yes, princess?”

“are we in bed, yet?”

he chuckled, causing his chest to rumble and you to whine at the vibrations against your body.

“not yet, special one. i’m carrying you inside— you fell asleep in the car.” he answered as he walked into the warm house, you wrapped in blanket in tow.

you stirred slightly at the change of lighting, the dark night sky in contrast to the warm yellow light the living room lamp provided becoming noticeable to you.

your eye were still shut, too tired to open them and welcome light in as you stayed bundled in your boyfriend’s arms.

“gonna have to set you on the couch, okay, pretty girl? i have to take our shoes off.” suna explained, his voice soft as he spoke at you, his eyes taking in your resting face.

you tiredly mumbled a barely coherent ‘yes’ in response, your cute cozy voice causing rintaro’s heart to swell and his stomach to warm up in pure happiness.

how he got to lucky with you was beyond him, but he wouldn’t trade you for the world. every little quirk of your’s had him tripping over his two feet in adoration, much to your disbelief. he didn’t care if you believed him though, because he could feel it in his bones the each centimeter of you was beautiful— especially now as you drool sleepyly in his arms.

he walked a few feet in front him, stopping to crouch down and ever so gently set you down on the velvet couch he had bought a few months prior as a anniversary present. your previous couch had been stained by your newly potty trained puppy and you were heartbroken over it, but as always, suna knew just what to do to cheer his princess up once more.

the feeling of a soft cushion cradling your head had you nuzzling into the feeling, rubbing your flushed cheek against a throw pillow that suna placed there for under your head before lying you down.

a few moments passed before you were scooped up carefully again, your favorite blanket wrapped cozyly around you, granting you infinite warmth.

“alright, princess. now it’s time for bed.” he sighed, relieved.

you were too tired to understand much, only the nickname kissing your ears like a song. but, you trusted that rintaro would do whatever was in your best interest no matter how sleepy you were.

he made his way to the bedroom, continuing to carry you effortlessly throughout the house as you slept peacefully in his arms. he often glanced down at you, finding a small proud smile on his face as he did so.

you were everything to him, nothing else mattered when he was around you. his only focus in those moments were taking the best care of you that he could and making sure you were safe and happy. all of which you seemed to be in this moment.

rintaro watched you thrive tonight as you spoke to all of your friends at the holiday party, and he couldn’t have been seen happier in the corner. his face held a grin all night, a proud smile he wore for everyone to see as they passed him by. the other guests probably assumed that he was one of two things: either high or just had the best sex of his life— but he wasn’t even close to their unclean thoughts. suna rintaro was lovesick, so lovesick that you surrounded his whole night— even on the rare occasion that you were out of his protective sight. you occupied his thoughts every minute, the way you spoke to everyone with such kindness and consideration, the way you let some of them cut you off mid sentence but were careful to bite back if someone off hand was said, the way you gave him sweet reassuring glances every two minutes to make sure he was having a good time and welcome to join your conversation whenever, the way you blew him kisses when you passed by him to go into another room— everything about the way you glew at that engagement party had suna feeling like a hopeless romantic.

as he neared the bedroom, only being two steps away from it, you stirred slightly causing him to gently stop momentarily to check on you. this allowed him to also use this as an opportunity to admire your unconscious state.

‘a true sleeping beauty’ he thought to himself.

your eyes were relaxed, an eyelid delicately draped over them like a blanket.

your mouth was open slightly, leaking drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth. the same mouth the suna kissed every morning and night, and dreamed of stealing more when he couldn’t.

but, as he stared down at you, he noticed how dolled up you still were. you still had your makeup on, a tad but smudged but there and your hair was neater than usual.

“fuck.” he whispered under his breath in realization.

the bathroom wasn’t too far from where he was now, just a few feet behind him, but he didn’t want to move too much in fear of waking the sleeping princess. but, he could manage.

carefully, he turned around as smoothly he could without swinging you around in his arms, his sockclad feet skillfully shifting with little to no motion beyond his torso. glancing down at you, suna nearly sighed in relief to find you still sound asleep.

he confidently but carefully took a few steps before making his way to the bathroom.

“rinnie?” you mumbled dreamily.

his heart almost stopped, had not been gently enough?

“yes, princess?”

you opened your eyes, blinking up at him sleepily.

“i still have my dress on and it’s uncomfy.” you whined softly.

he smiled at your cuteness but sympathized with your uncomfortable feeling.

“i know, sweetheart. i’m going to take you into here and get you all cleaned up and ready for bed, okay?”

you pouted but nodded slowly, dreading having to wake soon to get unready.

———

after a few minutes of unexplained moment, you finally opened your eyes to find suna looking down at you as he cradled you in his arms. you quickly recognized that he was standing in your shared bathroom, the familiar dim light of the mirror giving it away.

“hey, beautiful. i have to wash your pretty face off, okay? you have makeup on.” he softly explained when confusion flashed your face.

“oh.”

he smiled and nodded in agreement before leaning over and eventually attempting to sit you up on the counter. little to no words were exchanged between you two as you repositioned, the action being understood by you quickly.

he reached behind your right side, sliding your cleanser forward before giving your nose a soft kiss.

“wait,” you interjected. “i need the makeup remover first before the cleanser…” you corrected.

he nodded understandingly, murmuring a quick ‘thank you, baby’ in return before correcting his almost mistake by placing the larger bottle of micellar water from near the light switch, next to the cleanser.

“this stuff?”

you hummed in agreement, a sleepy haze coating your eyes as he glanced back at you, taking note of how beat you looked. he’ll be sure to get you all nice and tucked in when the two of you finally lay down for the night, the best princess burrito he could muster.

rintaro leaned over closer to you, his strong scent filling the empty air between the two of you causing you to wake slightly but not enough to pull you out of your dozed off state. you’re eyes were open but you had zoned out within the few silent moments, brain foggy and peaceful. his catlike eyes narrowed at you, enjoying the beautiful sight of you so serene. it was like you were an enchantress, your beauty lit up his whole soul, opening him up with light and covering all of his shadowy spots with your glow.

“you’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” he mumbled. “all mine too.”

your lashes fluttered shut, a carelessly swift motion that sent suna’s heart on fire.

“tired.” you groggily mumbled.

“i know, sweet girl. let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”

he briefly caressed your hair lovingly before turning the faucet on and squirting a pump of face wash into his open hand.

“one or two pumps?”

you hummed out your answer, a low effort attempt to answer him.

“what was that, princess? gonna have to speak up for me.”

“t-two.”

he obliged, dispensing another glop and lathering it to foam under the running water.

“now, you’re gonna have to wake up a little more, okay? i’m sorry, babygirl, i know you’re tired.” suna gently sympathized, his large callused hands wet with foamy makeup remover.

you let a light whine pass your lips, frustration and exhaustion bubbling in your chest cavity and threatening to flood the bathroom, taking your beautiful boyfriend with it. but, you obliged; opening your bloodshot eyes and being greeted with the domestic sight.

he stood in front of you now, only about two inches of space left between you. his hands were facing up, arms slightly extended to keep the soap from getting on him or dripping everywhere. rintaro’s eyes watched you intently, awaiting your ‘okay’ to wet your face and wash away the day.

but the only thing you could focus on was the scent that filled the air; suna’s scent. the delightful musk of his cologne mixed with fresh linens and a warm scented candle you lit earlier that day embraced your lungs as you breathed in, causing your heart to warm up and a small content smile to graze your lips.

“what’s that pretty smile for?” rintaro asked, his expression mirroring your own.

“just love you so much. feel like home…”

“i feel like home? or this house feels like home?”

you paused, inhaling the comforting aroma once more. this time his icy cologne overpowered the other smells, giving you a nostalgic feeling and a fond memory of yours clouded your vision.

it was late last june, the third summer you had spent with suna wrapped around your finger and this particular night just proved how true that started was. you were sat on this very counter top, your nightgown stained with the green clay mask that suna sloppily applied on your face. your arms were outstretched in front of you, your fingers gently tracing his face and leaving a thick layer of clay trailing behind them with ever inch of skin you graze. his strong hands rested firmly on your hips, thumbs rubbing the clothed skin lovingly.

“is it supposed to sting? because right now it’s stinging.” rintaro asked, his voice filling the silent bathroom.

you chuckled at his childishness, his pain tolerance low.

“yes, just slightly though— nothing harsh. it means it’s working, as long as it isn’t too bad. is it?” you replied.

he shrugged gently, his hands still firmly placed on your generously loved hips. oh, how much he loved your hips.

“nothing major or irritating. just… different.”

you paused the motions of your hands, focusing your attention on the tranquil expression that graced his face. as if he wasn’t already stunning…

his eyes were rested, gently shut and relaxed as you applied the face mask to his already clear face. whispering promises of relaxation and baby soft skin. he trusted you, allowing you to put whatever you desired on him without question.

“you look so pretty, rinnie.”

he chuckled, slightly flattered but used to your compliments by now.

“i bet you look even prettier, princess. my pretty princess.”

your eyes nearly rolled back in ecstasy at the last statement, your tummy infested with butterflies that had just got a sudden burst of energy.

“my pretty princess.” you tiredly mumbled, the memory of that beloved night leaking into reality accidentally.

he furrowed his brows at you, confused to say the least but sure you had a good reason behind it… at least he hoped.

“what, dollface?”

“you called me your pretty princess the night we did face masks for the first time. don’t you remember?” you explained, hopeful that the memory was dear to him as well.

you and suna were both very madly in love; truly, deeply in love. so in love that both of your friends were so sick of hearing how much you meant to one another, hearing brag upon brag about how amazing the other was. but the worst wasn’t even in conversation— no, it was the way he spoke to you.

you meant the entire world to him, and he was absolutely sure that there was nothing that trumped you in anything; beauty, intelligence, kindness, affection— all of the traits that rintaro was sure you were the best at. his most fond memories of you were selected carefully, hand picked by himself going off of a system he called love.

anytime he felt like his heart was going burst, or when his palms would pool with sweat out of nerves, or whenever you both did something for the first time together— he would hold those special moments as close to his heart as he manage.

so yes, he did in fact remember the particular night you are reminiscing.

“mhm.” he hummed back. “f’ course i remember, sweetie.”

you smiled tiredly, your eyes hardly open but still trying.

“you called me your pretty princess.” you repeated.

suna’s cheeks tinted pink at the way your voice sounded, as if you were dreaming and he was everything you could ever wanted.

and he was.

“i always call you that.” he deadpanned.

why was that particular name sticking to you? it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for those exact words to slip out of his mouth when addressing you, so why were you so hung up on it now?

“yeah- but this was different. you said it like you meant it-“

“i always mean it. always.” his voice was authoritative, as if he was ordering you gently to correct your thoughts.

like a king, ordering his insecure queen to trust his love, demanding that she change her course of thought before he beheads her.

or at least that’s what your groggy mind concocted.

“but this was the first. the first time that i felt you meant it. i could feel the love and security behind your words, even if there were only three of them.”

rintaro was silent, his rough hands foamy and awaiting your approval to wash away the exhausting party. but, he couldn’t think of that right now. all that filled his lovesick brain was how beautifully romantic your soul was, and how it took everything he ever said to heart.

a few fleeting moments passed as he continued to think, a calm silence building in the air before a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“fuck, i just love you so much. you’re so damn fucking sweet, y’know that? my princess is so goddamn sweet and lovely. i just love you. so so much, baby. don’t ever change, please.” suna rambled, a large smile on his face as he spoke.

he placed a kiss to you lips, quick but enchanting before he finally quirked a brow at you, suggesting that he was ready to get this over with. you nodded, consenting him to clean your makeup off at last.

“wet my face a bit first. it’ll come off easier.” you mumbled.

he hissed out a ‘shit’ before rapidly looking around for a washcloth to wet and gently rub on your face to dampen it as you suggested.

you quickly caught on and told him to just rinse off his hands and pat the wetness onto your face before his hands dried.

“are you sure?”

“yes. it’s not like you’re dirty or anything. i suck on your fingers all the time, i’m sure i won’t get any dirtier from this than that.”

he smirked at the mention of his slender fingers in your mouth, suddenly craving the sight and feeling of it. but, he had enough courtesy to wait until before you drifted off in bed soon.

the action wasn’t sexual when you did it, neither of you saw it that way. it was more of a comfort thing for you, and suna sure did enjoy watching you so content just from suckling on his fingers. his.

with a small sigh of self-dissatisfaction, rintaro reached his hand into the sink and nudged the faucet on with his large ring finger.

“suna?”

he ran his hands under the water as he let out a quite hum.

“would it be okay if you could undress me too?”

“of course, princess. i was going to anyway.”

“really? it wouldn’t be weird?”

he furrowed his brows once more.

“why would it, doll? i’ve seen all of you many times, and i adore it. sexually or not.”

your heart swelled.

“what would i do without you?”

he chuckled as his hands turned clean and wet, taking them out of the running sink to wet your face with them.

“nah, sweetheart. the real question is; what would i do without you? my life would be so meaningless without a pretty princess to take care of. who’s door would i open? who’s food would i cut up? who’s pretty feet would i kiss and rub on?” rintaro questioned, taking a pause to place his warm wet hands on your face.

you sighed at the warmth, the water being the perfect temperature for relaxation. plus, his slender hands felt so comforting on your tired face, allowing your eyes to close at the feeling of your cheeks being caressed by your love.

“i love you so much, rinnie.” you mumbled. “thank you for taking such good care of me all of the time. i-i can’t imagine my life without you.”

he huffed out a adoring laugh, leaning down and giving your nose a gentle kiss.

“the pleasure is all mine, sweet girl.”

#suna 🌷#suna rintaro #suna #suna x reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna rintaro x reader fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu drabble #suna imagines #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro x chubby reader

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annmariethrush · 5 days ago

Text

Jayvik sleeping in the lab headcannons

Jayce and viktor put two couches in the lab as soon as they get their first sponsor. They are placed directly next to each other end to end with the arms touching.

Jayce’s couch is wide with deep cushions that squish under his weight and an obnoxious vintage pattern. It has a thick pillow on both ends, and the thinnest little throw blanket with a cheesy print on it that his mom gave him to put on a couch when he moved into his first dorm. It looks like he could sleep with his head on either end, but he always sleeps with his head next to Viktor and he uses the other pillow to prop his legs up cause his feet stick up over the arm cause he’s so tall.

Viktor’s couch is solid gray and very firm. It has no cushions on the back, just all four of his pillows to use as back support if you sit which no one ever does. The blanket is thick and fuzzy and a rich royal blue and looks like it could save you from a winter storm. The couch has a relatively low back so that viktor can leave his cane and his leg brace resting against the back within arms reach, and he hangs his back brace over the back as well.

Viktor keeps a sleep mask in the desk closest to their couch corner because it was always dark in zaun and he can’t sleep in the light still.

Viktor takes ten minutes to get in the “right spot” where he leg and back and all his other shitty joints are supported by a pillow or his blanket but as soon as he stays still for 30 seconds he’s immediately out. He always leaves his right toes out of the blanket.

Jayce sleeps on his face. Viktor is convinced that he will suffocate and has gone out of his way to find him a baby pillow that is breathable. Jayce thinks that viktor’s worry is cute. Jayce’s arm sticks off the side of the couch and rests on the floor.

Viktor sleeps like the dead, only shifting minutely, but with his mouth parted and the occasional snore. Jayce fucking spins in his sleep. He falls asleep on his face but where he wakes up is completely variable. Viktor once had to slap him awake because he spun around completely and had his stinky toes next to viktor’s face. Viktor was not amused but Jayce thought it was fucking hilarious.

When they finally start dating, Jayce moves his couch to be directly across from Viktor’s with just enough space for Viktor to get onto his couch. They fall asleep holding hands and Jayce gets lulled off by Viktor’s even breathing.

When a deadline is coming up, they shack up in the lab for weeks at a time, the takeout boxes piling up and fresh clothes only brought in by Ximena who insists on washing their clothes at least every three days.

Jayce keeps one of his retainers in the bathroom next to Viktor’s contact solution. His mom yelled at him about how expensive his braces were when he admitted that he was spending a lot of time sleeping at the lab without one.

Their toothbrushes sit in a cup together, Jayce’s is red and Viktor’s is blue. They share a tube of toothpaste.

Viktor’s deodorant stays next to the bathroom sink. Jayce’s stays at his desk so he can use it every few hours cause he produces too much heat.

The shower has a single XL sized bottle of old spice body wash that is labeled “Vanquish”, a bottle of 2 in 1 shampoo labeled “Giant Squid”, and a small bottle of conditioner scented like honey and coconuts. Jayce sometimes opens it just to stand under the water and smell, imagining that he can shove his nose into Viktor’s honey scented hair. Viktor notices that it has been moved every time Jayce takes a shower, but only says something the one time Jayce tries it in his hair— “Jayce, that conditioner is 10 gold. Please do not use it.” He secretly enjoys the fact that Jayce smells like him all day and tries not to pay attention to the fact that Jayce has a silly smile on his face all day and seems to have a hard time focusing on things.

Before they get their couches, there is simply a pile of blankets and pillows under one of the spare desks. They take turns napping there when the afternoons are too long and they didn’t sleep well the night before. Viktor always encourages Jayce to go first, some excuse about being in the middle of an equation or something. Secretly it’s because he adores the feeling of the pillows and blankets being warm and smelling like Jayce when he gets in. Little does Viktor know that Jayce also likes the idea of Viktor cocooned in his warmth and his scent and is perfectly happy to watch him cuddle up after him.

#jayvik headcanons #jayvik #jayce talis #viktor #viktor arcane #arcane viktor #arcane jayce #arcane headcanons #jayvik hc #jayce headcanons #viktor headcanons #arcane #Netflix arcane

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mawlbone · 25 days ago

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regular omegaverse again but this time reader is an older alpha, maybe has adult pups and is just chilling in the military. he's too old to posture or peacock like the younger alphas so he just sits and whenever an omega cuddles uo to him for comfort he purrs like a fat lazy happy cat. just dilf reader cuddling with omegas.

idek what this is maybe like a mini request or some headcanons? i just want to see older alpha reader be fat and lazy and happy and purr-y and be designated base dad for the younger recruits

OLD RELIABLE - ABO TF141

SNIPPET: In the government’s pursuit of looking for ways to reduce the stress rates of its soldiers, one can find such a solution hidden deep within a base of Britain where one of their employee’s presence always seem to be surrounded with a multitude of their soldiers.

[CW: amab reader, older reader, muscular chubby reader, children mention, cuddling, puppy crush, sh mention, and non-sexual intimacy]

[COMMENT: Thank you for the request! How sweet~! I love the idea of the base having a giant comfort figure that they can go to. Also I am genuinely fighting with myself to not write so much so I can update more frequently, heh…]

Nobody knows when exactly all of this started: perhaps it had when as a favor between old teammates when you gave your scented items for them during their heats, a rumor around base of you comforting a new recruit after a nasty break-up, or how a comrade shared between drinks of how you’ll escorting drunk omegas back to base after a fun drunk night out because you didn’t want them walking alone at night.

Whatever it is, the sight of you being swarmed by a crowd of omegas whenever you lounge around the common room for a small nap had become a usual sight around the base.

Sitting on a spare couch, more often than not you’ll wake up to the sight of a pile of omegas piled around your body. Usually it’ll be an arrangement where your arms will be used as cushions for their head to rest upon and someone sitting onto your lap snuggling their head into your neck as they all purr noisily like an engine into your ears.

It doesn’t help either that your pups’ scents always seem to linger onto your clothes which made you all so more comforting to be around. Unbeknownst to you, it had also become a bit of a competition for the younger recruits around the building to race against everyone else to fight for their spot to rest with you. It helps that you don’t mind them being affectionate with you, even occasionally purring along with them to sooth them after a long day of drills or coming back from a tiring deployment. Frankly, you were a giant destress toy to them as they nuzzle into your big arms and stomach for warmth.

Though… You were an enigma. No one knows exactly who you are per se. Sure, the soldiers around see you chatting to the janitors in the halls, helping the cooks clean up, and hell even in the medbay carrying boxes for the nurses. And none of the older guys around could give them a straight answer either as they can only shrug before shooing them away which frustrates them to no end.

The younger alphas and betas were a bit hesitant in approaching you with how gruff you looked with your peppered hair and towering figure. Much to their shock, they’ll see you spread your arms outward thinking they were here for some cuddling as well with a slight raise of your brow much to their flusterness.

Also about your pups? Well becoming a father wasn’t necessarily on the list of priorities in your life plan until them.

You didn’t know what it was, perhaps it was a right place and time that you saw a pair of orphaned pups no taller than your knee shivering out in the bitter winter one day during your deployment. Shakey and severely malnourished, you can see the way they tremble every so often as another set of chills rack down the spine huddling under a street lamp for warmth. You didn’t what exactly pushed you to approach them. Maybe it was disconcertion of seeing them in the cold against the jolly string lights for the holidays, or the feeling of warmth that surrounded your body with your coat tucked around you, or perhaps the thought that you don’t really have anyone at home to come back to anymore.

No matter what it was, you didn’t have the heart to walk away from the sight.

You… didn’t really want to.

So after a few months of having to go through interviews, screenings, and taking childcare classes under the supervision of the kindness of the nurses in the pediatric ward. Finally, they were able to come home with you under your name.

Though life is never as smooth sailing as everyone wish for it to be.

You never really had time to go searching for a mate in your younger years, your pups kept you busy enough. Between the duties of a soldier and a new parent at that time, you never felt the need to go settle down. It never really bothered you as you had more than enough love towards your pups to give them so they never feel alone. And thankfully enough, one of your oldest friends agreed to coparent your pups whenever you’re deployed for long periods of time. Something you had deeply appreciate her for — though she waved you off saying it was no big deal knowing how easy you crumble towards the sight of pups. You made sure to still compensate her still with enough money to take care of herself and the children comfortably.

So here you are now in your 40s dealing with the nagging of your adult pups (who also decide to also enlist into the service despite your complaints) badgering you to get married. You love them, you truly do but they’re grown and have their own life now. But still ever so attached to your waist, something you’ll never complain about, they’re your children after all but hearing their fears about you being lonely, something you had heard in their childhood before about robbing you of your opportunities to enjoy life made your heart hurt.

Despite countless reassurances that you’re fine and it’s nothing for them to worry about, they’re insistent because you’re their dad and deserve to have someone else in your life to accompany you. But also because they’re absolutely sick of hearing their fellow soldiers teasing them by asking if their dad is single much so you need to get hitched now!

Price

When Price first met you, he was still a lieutenant with much less experience compared to now. All rough edges and hot headed from constantly being looked down for his secondary sex, he had come off as tense when he was ordered to go on a mission with you. To his surprise, you were pleasant to be around even making light conversation and checking up on him every so often to ensure that he’s okay. Soon one thing lead to another and usually most will find you at the bar together sharing a couple of drinks to celebrate him coming home safe.

You jested that all the smokes and drinks had mellowed him out over the years which he grumbled before rebutting saying how you were the one spoiling him with foreign cigars and expensive alcohol from your travels. He still has them of course, he likes to keep them in his cabinets after a bad day. Your poor captain’s head who’s stuffed with guilt and anger, the only thing you can do in those moments is hold him as he sobs, unable to meet your gaze as his cries wrecks his voice as you rub his back for as long he needs you for.

It was cute seeing your old friend still struggle to ask you for comfort items for his nest despite your history together. You don’t tease him knowing how shy he becomes with this side of him so you usually drop a duffel bag full of your clothes at his door when his heat comes. Despite everything you give him, his favorite that he can remember was you smiling fondly at him as you tug your wooly black beanie over his head and telling him to keep it.

He gets a bit envious seeing you constantly crowded with the younger omegas so he makes time to find you after work to cuddle against your shoulder. His purrs are deep and rumbly whenever he’s close by you. Also he had met your pups tons of times during the holidays when he’s free and honestly it was a bit surreal to see them grow up right in front of his eyes so quickly as they come running into his arms as well after you.

And to add on, if someone was to accuse him of having a fancy for you, well they’ll be no proof to find with how private you are. But he won’t deny their claims especially when he plays with the beanie in the quiet hours of the night for comfort before you shoo him away from office to go to sleep.

Ghost

Over the years he had spend watching you and Price work together from the shadows, he thinks he can settle on the sentiment that you were an awfully decent person if you continue to bring him cups of tea whenever you pass by his office to ensure he gets a break at least. It’s usually a mix of his favorites blends or something entirely different that you wanted him to try.

Similarly to Price, he was a bit anxious to meet you knowing you were an alpha despite his captain’s reassurances that you were fine man as he steps out to meet you. Reminders of his father’s treatment towards his mother and him had soured any feelings he has of alphas. But just like that, all those fears immediately threw itself out of the window seeing you carry some pups in your arms from the pediatric ward as they snooze away in your hold. It’s hard to look intimidating when there’s two chubby pups squishing their face against your chest as you peck Price’s cheek in greeting before nodding at him.

You’ll always used to go around and find him after he and Price got into a nasty argument due to his self-destructive behaviors back when he was younger and still nursing the wounds from his past. In those quiet moments, sometimes you don’t even talk, merely sitting by him until his sobs has softened into silence as he turns to you fishing leftovers from the cafeteria out of your bag for him to eat because he missed dinner and you didn’t want to sleep on an empty stomach. The sight is shocking enough to stun him out of his sadness as you shove the sandwich and water into his hands. It helps that you don’t treat him any different when bandaging some of his cuts, just some mere words of comfort was enough to learn yo release those horrible emotions in the gym instead with your advice.

To save you the trouble, yeah he totally once or twice used his status and intimidation to scare away the younger omegas that was hogging you before guiding you to his office so he can too lean against your shoulder and purr away happily at your warm smell. You oblige because you get severally worried about his lack of a sleep schedule and who’s to say he won’t use favoritism to his advantage.

Also he totally blanked out when you patted his head after coming back from a grueling operation and complimented him on his skill. You had apologized thinking you may had upset him by overstepping his boundaries but truthfully, he didn’t expect how much he liked getting approval from you and he wishes for you to do it again.

Roach

It wasn’t exactly that you met Roach and more like you keep bumping into him when he first started showing up into your life. You didn’t even knew he was one of Price’s boys before it was mentioned offhandedly that he got a new member into his task-force. And Roach might be one of the hardest people you ever had the trouble of finding, no wonder he and Ghost gets along so well… You found out after multiple trials and errors of where his usual spots are, though you almost got a heart attack seeing him on the rafters of the warehouse one time because he wanted to escape Price’s wraith for stealing his boonie hat.

Conversations between you consisted of tracing letters on skin and notes you pass by one another before you learn the gist of some ASL to speak with the man. Something that the sergeant is grateful for you doing for his own comfort due to his burn injuries and smoke damage to his lungs irritating his voice now. Even if you make a few mistakes and need to ask him to speak slower to follow along it warms his heart to see someone actually try for him. Does not know what to make of you but he’s terribly fond at the sight of you wandering around the base.

Eventually you two were able to bond closer over after finding him in the fields one day. In the cool evening as the sunset slowly fade below the horizon, it splashes of rich pink and oranges casting him in a warm glow against the his visor. You weren’t sure what he was thinking in that moment as you stood beside him as the grass crunch underneath your boots and the air crisps into cold under your nose but it nice nonetheless. When the day finally casted you two into darkness, you don’t comment on the way he clutches onto your sleeve as you walked back to the base.

Comes from a more traditional family back in the states so he escaped into the military to avoid their complaints towards him. He did not want to rot under the harshness of the Texas sun but he’ll make small conversation of you how he misses his old horse back at his grandfather’s ranch or the overly sweet peach tea he’ll get from the local diner every Sunday after church. He misses a lot of things from home but he’s satisfied with his decision saying it was for the best for peace of his mind. There’s a stockpile of that same drink reserved in his office just for him to drink when you asked your friend to send you from that same chain now shortly after that tidbit.

While Roach barely speaks, he makes plenty of noises whenever he wants to cuddle with you. Lots of soft purrs and rumbles emit from his voice whenever his face is buried into your chest when you stand. He has no shame when you’re free to cling onto your sleeve and rubbing his scent onto your skin or clothes to erase everyone’s else scent off because his nose gets irritated easily and he doesn’t like any other beside his pack’s smell on you. Occasionally he’ll steal some of his mates’ and your old clothes that you gave Price and place them into his pile. Why? Because it’s softer and more worn and makes great texture for him to touch whenever he’s bored in his nest waiting for his heat to be over.

Gaz

At this point, you’re not even surprised by the captain’s unconventional recruitment as you stared at the young man coming out of Price’s car with a hand to your face. Really John, fresh off the crime scene? Nonetheless you made sure to greet the fellow as he stared quite almost deer-like if you wanted to be accurate at you. Forgive Gaz, he didn’t mean to stare at you but seeing you standing there in the parking lot made him think you were someone’s bodyguard or waiting to beat someone up.

Because you were the first to meet him and being older, he had come to naturally look for you for guidance. Especially after you offered to take him on a tour around base so he won’t get lost when Price had to attend a last minute meeting on that very same day. Quick and reliable is what he had come to think of you gauging off the reactions and numerous greetings everyone said as you pass by them. He appreciated your efforts even if it was a bit crowded getting past everyone along your path.

He gets lonely easily during the first few months of his training due to homesickness and tends to isolate himself whenever the thoughts gets a bit too loud because he gets nervous of anyone mocking him for missing his family at this age. So usually you occupy a seat next to him near the training fields and show off pictures of your pups and discuss your own little family as well and how it came to be to fill up the silence of the room which was nice to have. However you failed to mention that your once very tiny pups had grown into adults now so he may had blanked out seeing two very familiar names on his drill duties much to your dismay of how they successfully got the chances of them going into the same base as you before eventually getting shipped away to another one nearby.

Gets too embarrassed to join on the little competition whenever he sees you getting piled by other omegas from other groups until he sees the rest of the TF141 simply avoiding the competition entirely and pulling you away whenever. He really likes getting hugs from you whenever he’s in a bad mood. And how you’ll come by to greet him and everyone else in the clinic if one of them got a nasty injury usually with some fresh fruits or flowers in hand with one of your blankets for them to hold onto for comfort.

His purrs are not loud as the others so usually you’ll have him settle on your lap when you sit down to feel them against your chest. He gets noisier whenever you smooth his back up and down to relieve his tension for the day and he makes the sweetest whines if he had felt you stopped too early with his big ol brown eyes. Does like cuddling with the rest of the pack so if he sees one of them already with you, he’s scooting them over to make some space to be held alongside them or grabbing onto your other arm to be guided.

Soap

Price punched you in the shoulder when you first met Soap inside the captain’s office, slow clapping and all as you congratulate him for going through the proper protocols for once and getting someone normal. Lighthearted, that was Scot’s first impression as you bump his captain’s arm back before turning and properly introducing yourself to him with all smiles and polite demeanor.

Soap had heard of your reputation around base about you being a little beacon but due to scheduling he wasn’t able to meet you much until he got selected to be part of the TF141 and found you there in his captain’s office, both of you waiting for him to arrive. He’ll bond with Gaz later about how you always seem to need to give a fright almost as if you were the back up plan in case Price’s yelling didn’t scare a poor recruit shitless, followed by Roach popping in from the shadows out from nowhere and scaring them both.

Growing up in a large family, he didn’t really grew up with the idea of social hierarchy in his family’s pack. Doesn’t matter if you’re an alpha or dirt on the sidewalk, you’re here to help around the house so pick up that broom and go sweep. So it nice to see an alpha not care so much for status as much as him, it made him feel at home if anything.

His nesting habits are wild and bizarre and he has a purr louder than anyone else. Sometimes you’ll find some of your paperwork and pens inside of his little fortress once you grow closer because he haven’t been able to successfully get any heavily scented clothing of yours from his mates much to your amusement before you dropped one of your sweaters for him to have which he did cheered at.

May had too tried to figure out who you were exactly around base because Price will not budge either on where or who you even work for to satisfy his curiosity. You’ll make a series of jokes at his expense telling him a new one every time he asks before he gives up. It had become somewhat of an inside joke between you and him whenever you ask where the others were and giving an obscure location during your free time. He had tried to get you to spill the truth over a drinking game before but lost several rounds to you in bets and games before he can even get you drunk enough to make your spill. More often than not he’ll wake up to you carrying him to the bed after forcing him to drink some water before sleeping.

Well whoever you were, you can only smile at Laswell across the laptop’s screen when you came home that night as she shakes her head at you telling how her bosses kept badgering her to ask you to come back from retirement. You can only deny with a huff of laughter at your friend’s annoyance towards the matter.

Some things are best left behind you.

#💀…cod #🦴…abo #john price x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #roach x reader #male reader #amab reader #mawlbone’s ink spill

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residenthughes · 10 months ago

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mad at me - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 3.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, smut, unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), creampie, praise, spitting & choking (nothing crazy, i promise!), use of pet names (my girl, sweetheart, baby, princess, sweetheart), slight degradation (if you squint?)

summary: jack's latest game has tensions running high and feelings left unresolved. lucky for him, you know just the solution.

notes: so...this is happening 😭 this is very much inspired by the devils latest game against the kings where jack got pretty heated 😵‍💫 who doesn't love a bit of angry! jack? 🫣 but yes, as i've mentioned before, i don't usually write smut, so this may not be the best so any tips or comments you guys have to share would be much appreciated! 💗this has been partially edited, so if you see any errors along the way, they'll be fixed soon! as always, thank you for reading and hope you enjoy! much love! <333

It takes a lot for Jack to get mad.

A sequence of events that all come to a boil, a mountain of incidents that snowball into an avalanche of his wrath. He’s so sweet, like sunny Sunday mornings that smell of fluffy pancakes and honey syrup - so, even now, so far into your relationship, you’re aware that moments like these occur. Of course, emotions wear thin like tired socks and you’re no stranger to your own and Jack’s that have seen all shades of the rainbow, but perhaps there’s something in the air, some electricity that changes the wiring of your brain because tonight is so different from the rest. Dissimilar from when you leave Jack be when his big emotions demand their place, unlike how you wrap each other in blankets of comfort when tensions have eased and everything is whole again. Because, again, this is not about you. It’s about Jack and how, as the universe has written it to be, gravity pulls straight towards him.

Things have been good - he’s come back from injury, back to his kingdom on the ice and the Devils have won back to back games - truly unheard of during their current season, beating their last opponent in regulation for the first time since 2009. It’s a big deal - the smile on Jack’s face says so, the satisfaction of his tone indicating so when he’s come back from his away games. So, you want this happiness to continue, because you love him and the happiness he illuminates but at the end of the day, his job is hockey. A coin toss of wins and losses that you’re trying to wrap your head around because you’re biassed and see all the commitment that him and his teammates put in everyday. As a result of this, Thursday happens; a dice roll of events that spiral into chaos.

You’re back home in Jersey, comfortably situated on the couch in the warmth of an ending winter that shows peaks of an upcoming spring. You’ve got popcorn in your lap because you’ve rediscovered how much you love the savoury snack, happily munching away as Jack’s game starts and the adrenaline kicks in. The first period is eventful with many saves that have you clawing at the couch, but then the second period starts and all hell breaks loose. Tensions run high and as level-headed as Jack is, he is not immune to agitation - subjected to a nasty hit into the boards, the opposing player purposely banging his elbow into Jack’s head. You’re about to start yelling at your TV screen like some drunken sailor because Jack’s been injured this season and doesn’t need more time away from what he loves, but Jack decides to get his lick back and you’re automatically silenced. Your jaw drags the length of the floor as you watch him crosscheck the hell out the guy, proceeding to rough the player up before referees interfere. Jack and the guy are arguing back and forth as they’re escorted into their teams’ penalty boxes and you’re just left bewildered, a mess of emotions with wide eyes as your stomach turns.

You watch astounded as Jack flushes in his temporary plastic home, eyes wide at he hurtles comments that leave the opposing player with a sour taste in his mouth. Jack’s shaking his head when he’s gotten what he needs off his chest, wiping away his sweat as his anger grinds to a simmer. Your eyes are glued to the TV, perched on the edge of your seat as your heart beats hard in your bruising chest. The power play continues on but you’re lost in a trance, awaiting Jack’s emergence from the penalty box that can’t come soon enough. Once he’s out, he’s sprinting for the puck and manages to get a breakaway that assures New Jersey a goal, but the loser in the penalty box with him is hot on his heels and Jack misses. He’s fuming once again, ranting to the referee that pays him no mind. Jack skates off, smashing his stick against the glass before he’s back on the bench and completely snaps it in half, a string of profanities leaving his lips.

You sit there in awe, your grinding teeth sinking into the flesh of your fingers as your brain becomes an all-consuming pile of filth. Your precious boy, who loves his three hour long naps and looks at you like you hang the stars in the sky, the hopeless romantic who pulls out all the stops for you simply because you deserve it and who holds you as if you’re fine china - he’s almost unrecognisable now, wearing his emotions like the number of his jersey as his expression pinches and his azure eyes narrow. A rush of emotions you both experience that make a home in the chaos of your minds that long leave the remnants of their havoc.

The clatter of Jack’s hockey bag echoes from the doorway, bringing you out of the syrupy daze you’ve been submerged in far too long. You leap off the couch as your body carries you towards the front door, electricity rippling down the ridges of your spine as your skin tingles with the unknown. You keep your emotions at bay for the time being, unsure of what state Jack may be in as you creep around the corner and catch an eyeful of his demeanour - blinding annoyance. An exasperated sigh pushes from his chest as he slips off his trusted beanie, the ruffle of his wet curls bouncing as his fingers card through his hair. You gulp.

“Ro?” you test the waters - short and sweet just to gauge his reaction, anticipation hanging in the air.

“Hey.” he bites, not bothering with looking your way as he shimmies his coat off with more force than necessary.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, feeling helpless. “I saw the game…”

“The one I almost got fucking injured in?” he chirps, looking at you now with a pointed stare that burns with all the fire in his heart. No longer azure, his eyes singe with an almost midnight hue. “What a shitshow.”

“That was a dangerous hit, that guy’s got whatever’s coming to him,” you’re quick to reply, taking small steps towards Jack who hangs up his coat. “But that doesn’t change the fact that people pay to watch you play.”

Jack stills in his movements, figure unmoving momentarily before his eyes throw you a lasting glance, the beginnings of a smirk working amongst his roseate features. “So, you heard?”

You blush under the heat of his undivided attention, gaze averted as you fumble with the hem of the hockey jersey on you. “Not necessarily.”

“Then what did you hear, baby?” he queries immediately, shifting so that his body now faces yours, an arm resting against the coat hanger as he sizes you up, unabashed and assertive.

Your stomach flips, the race of your heart undeniable. “You’ve got a mouth on you, so it’s easy to read lips.”

You’re chirping, working under his skin in a way that maintains some form of respect but has all the intentions of riling him up, which manifests into the beast you wish to see. A cocked eyebrow and a ticked jaw, flashes of disbelief flickering on his face. Once more, your emotions bear the weight of an anchor as excitement conjures up the swirl in your stomach, your masquerade crumbling at the seams as your nostrils flare, biting back a shit-eating grin.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he questions with a hint of humour, because he knows you like the back of his hand. You give him no response, preoccupied with suppressing the misplaced giggle that threatens to leave your lips. “I can’t believe this.”

The seams fully come undone, a snicker or two bypassing your lips as you retreat from the situation, ending up with your back against the door leading to the basement with Jack hot on your heels. Mirth bathes you in delight and you let it, a plethora of chuckles falling into your hand as you avert your gaze whilst Jack forgets any concept of personal space. Perhaps you’re deserving of whatever damnation comes your way, a punishment you’ve fully brought upon yourself, but when your senses fill with the waft of Jack’s earthy musk cologne and the remnants of his apple shampoo, accompanied by the warmth of his body that leans towards yours, you can’t bring yourself to feel a shred of regret.

His arm, enveloped by his raven black dress shirt, raises as he cages you in, vulnerable and at his mercy. “What else did I say, since you can read lips and all?”

This is a circus of words, meaning riddled in optical illusions that would have someone think none the wiser. Except this is yours and Jack’s circus, an act tailored for two that entertains your minds that run wild. A wildness you feed off as you meet him with the same decisiveness.

“This number,” you start, pointing towards the digits printed on your sleeve belonging to him. “86 is what people go to see - sorry, pay to see.”

You’re not really sorry, the smirk on your face says otherwise. “I think I said a lot more than that, sweetheart.”

“Besides all the huffing and puffing,” his tongue pokes at his cheek, a playful smirk betraying his flaring emotions. “You asked if he was there to play or to hurt people - fair point to make.”

“And all the others weren’t?” Jack’s moved closer, his thigh situating itself between the gap of your legs.

You bite your tongue at the friction. “You know the answer to that.”

“Maybe,” his caging arm leaves the door, the web of his hand sat against your chin as he holds your face, maintaining the same fiery gaze that unravels you altogether. “But, it’d be better coming from you.”

“Jack,” he’s flexed his thigh, your hand reaching for the button on his dress shirt as you wane in defeat. “Please.”

“I don’t follow.”

Your bawled fist meets his stacked chest. “Don’t play dumb.”

Jack chuckles, holding all power in the palm of his hand. “I’m just confused as to why my pants are wet.”

To prove his point, he draws his thigh away because he’s a selfish bastard and shows you the damp spot you’ve left after his thigh made its way between your legs. The shame that washes over you is unbearable.

Jack’s cold hands find themselves underneath the material of his jersey, one hand dancing along the outline of your underwear with a finger hanging over the top of the seam. “Oh, what to do with you.”

He’s such a tease, his ego large and in charge as you’ve long forgotten any sense of game at hand as your eyes pool with only an anguish he can extinguish. “Fuck me, please.”

“Why?” his tone light and airy, his finger hooked around the seam of your underwear as the material leaves your skin

You shiver at the breeze, eyes closed as your weak fist manages to grapple onto some material of his shirt. “Because, I need you and I think that goes both ways.”

The band of your underwear snaps against your stomach as Jack retrieves his hand, head cocked to the side as he considers the weight of your words with a locked jaw. Your teeth are sinking into the plumpness of your bottom lip, nothing but pleading in your eyes as you gaze up at him with all you can muster.

His hand lays against your cheek, thumb automatically caressing the skin - a touch that you not only lean into, but shiver towards. “Get upstairs.”

This is a fairly new playing field for you two - a game of cat and mouse that brings out an unfamiliar side to you, so foreign in nature that you second guess your desires and where your lust leads you. Jack doesn’t allow for any hesitation though, hand in hand with you as he comes into himself too. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips that lift, a soft smile surfacing amongst his features before you’re headed upstairs in a flash, scurrying towards your bedroom with a trail of your clothes left in your wake.

Jack doesn’t take long to meet you upstairs, his pinstripe blazer removed as he unfastens his tie around his neck. He spares you a lingering glance as you lay sheepishly on the bed perched on your elbows, legs ajar as your folds glisten in the soft bedroom light. Jack quickly rids himself of his clothing, slipping his boxers off to reveal his hard on. A comfortable length with all the girth to fulfil you, tip flushed pink as it brims with precum. It takes everything in you not to sink to your knees and fill your mouth with his cock.

As he approaches the bed, he motions for you to turn around and you do so with no questions asked, back arched as you wait in anticipation as you feel the bed dip with his presence. Jack comes up behind you, body so incredibly close yet somehow so far away as his hands make contact with your burning skin, giving the flesh on your back a brief massage. A surprised hum vibrates in your chest as Jack drags a single finger along the dip of your spine, leaving goosebumps in his wake before he adjusts himself behind you, to which you push your ass back against his hard on.

“Stop teasing.” you sound more desperate than intended, cheek squished into your cool silk pillow.

“Can’t admire my girl before I fuck her?” The nonchalance of his tone draws a mewl out of you, your hips jutting as they search for any more contact. “Besides,”

Hands resting against the mould of your hips, one shifts as you feel his cold index finger draw in between your folds, fingertips swirling around your clit. You moan brokenly, body curling into itself. “You’re just here to take it, aren’t you, princess?”

You’re nodding before your brain can even compute his words, humming along to accentuate your point as his fingertips continue to swirl along the shape of your clit. It’s too much and not enough - a tug of war of sorts that makes your hips rock into Jack, an action that at one point, has his tip catching against your wet entrance. A hiss from behind you sounds as you grapple onto the pillow beside you.

Jack’s hand leaves you high and dry, but alias, his patiences dissipates into the night sky as he glides into you in one smooth motion, robbing you of your breath and sanity as your mouth gapes open and eyes roll. Sinking into the mattress, your spread legs accommodate for the snap of Jack’s hips as he starts to fuck you from behind, your back curving as you gladly take everything he’s offering. Face mangled into your hoard of pillows, your fingers cling to the duvet for some kind of security, at the mercy of Jack who pleases you in all the way he knows how.

“How hard do you want me to fuck you?” he asks, maybe genuinely because his strength seems somehow restricted, but you’re keening high in your throat at how filthy his words fall from his rosy lips so easily.

“Harder,” you plead, losing yourself in the pleasure as your one hand shuffles to rub against your neglected clit. “Harder, please.”

And, he obliges, bullying his cock into you as you gasp at the impact. A smack lands against your ass, the supple surface sizzling as your hips retract, Jack’s ironclad grip holding you from escaping any further as his fingers make indents into your skin like notches in a bedpost.

“Hang on,” his pace slows, breath laboured as you feel him pull out of you reluctantly. “Turn around. I need to see you.”

You squirm against the sheets, easily complying with Jack’s wishes that suit you, your body turning as your sweaty-layered back sticks to the duvet. In the dimmed light of your bedroom, you catch a glimpse of Jack, whose wet curls fall in all the right places and how every outline of his well-built body drives you wild. You catch the shallow rises of his chest and the flush against his cheeks and as he tucks stray strands of hairs behind his ears, his hands find purchase at your thighs and draw you closer. It’s when he looks into your eyes, shameless in the pleasure written all over his face as he pushes into you again that you think you could never get tired of this view.

Your walls mould to the shape of his cock, sucking him in entirely as you both moan at the feeling. To add fuel to the fire, Jack decides to unfold your legs and hoist them over his shoulders, the new angle burying him even deeper and bringing you closer to the edge. A huff of amusement sounds from Jack as he peers down at your parted lips, wasting no time in fucking you into the mattress as the bed creaks underneath the pressure. His earlier annoyance rears its head in his movements, unsettled irritation laced in the impact of his thrusts, your cunt leaking all around him as he pounds into you relentlessly. So close in proximity, Jack takes the opportunity to caress your cheek, a sweet gesture as your breath hitches, all before his hand slowly drifts down towards your neck. An affirmative nod from you is he needs to tighten his grip, your brewing orgasm intensifying tenfold as he maintains all the eye contact to make you shudder.

He’s balls deep in you, each hard thrust punctuated by the smack of the wooden headboard against the bedroom wall. You feel him all around you like some wicked embrace: in your stomach, your lungs and around your throat, the snug clasp his calloused hand holds against your pressure points lolling your mouth open, gasping at the sheer intensity stewing within you.

Jack takes the opportunity, wet curls stuck to his forehead, leaning closer as he spits directly into your mouth, as he does onto the ice throughout his games. Something twists violently in you, back arching off the bed as your lips fall close to moan from the deepest parts within you, the taste of Jack on your tongue.

“Taking me like such a good girl,” he praises, your reflection plentiful in his eyes. “If I’d known you liked this, would have done it a long time ago.”

Everything begins to blur at the edges like an old photograph, bliss engulfing you in its heavenly fire as your skin shimmers with sweat and your nails scrape at Jack’s shoulder - a futile attempt to regain control that had been long lost, your bodies movement forgotten as you squirm and shiver all over.

Oxygen courses back into your deprived lungs as Jack releases his grip, burning hand against your cheek as his thumb brushes your cheekbone, catching your fluttering eyelashes. “I got you, baby. Got you, princess.”

“Never been fucked,” a whimper escapes when Jack notches that spongy spot that buries your nails into his skin, “like this. Feels-fuck, good.”

He laughs lightly, pace stuttering yet hitting all the right places. “Love giving my pretty girl what she wants,”

You clench around him, embedding your nails into the flesh of his back as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, gaze scattered. “And my pretty girl wants to come, don’t you?”

He poses the rhetorical question with a mean pinch at your clit before pushing a heavy hand down on your lower stomach, the pressure accelerating you towards your fast-approaching orgasm. The sounds pour out of you like a waterfall, eyebrows furrowed as you plead with begging eyes. “Kiss me?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” he breathes, almost whiny as his hand circles around your nape, your figure floating as your lips collide in a messy embrace, rhythm unmatched as your yearning seeps through your teeth.

Jack captures all your moans in his mouth, the new angle of his thrusts adding to the sloppiness of your wet kiss. The smack of his stuttering hips knocks against your clit in a way that has you seeing beyond, swallowed whole by his galaxy of stars as he gives you one last jerky thrust, teeth nipping at your bottom lip to undo you. Frayed at the seams, you come undone, unravelling in a mess that perfectly matches Jack as he quickly comes after you, coating your walls as your cunt spasms all around him as he rides out his high.

Once Jack’s shallow thrusts grind to a halt, he slowly pulls out a heavy sigh, locking eyes with you as he runs a finger down your sensitive cunt just to get a shiver out of you. Your eyebrows knit, a flare of annoyance mixed in with fatigue written across your face that draws a humoured snicker from your boyfriend. He collapses down next to you, a kiss pressed against your cheek before you both aimlessly stare up at the ceiling.

Amusement tugs at the corners of your lips. “You should get angry more often.”

“I was just about to say the same thing.” agrees Jack, laughter making its home between you two as nothing but sweetness lingers in the air.

“Come on,” he urges, his hand nudging yours, body prying itself off your bed as he goes to stand. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#jh86 #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #jack hughes smut #jack hughes imagine #nhl smut #jack hughes #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #residenthughes

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dickpuncher420 · 3 months ago

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nsfw zukka fic recs

@zukkathirst weekend may be over now, but there's still a bunch of smutty fics out there for you to enjoy! if you want to increase your odds of winning the comment contest, why not try showing a bit of love to some older works?

this is only a list of some of my personal favourites—don't be afraid to go digging around for other fics! many of these authors have multiple E-rated fics, so if you enjoyed their work, make sure to check out their profile for more (and leave some more comments! i promise they will love it)

fruity beverages by crosspin, zukkababey | 15k

Against his better judgment, Zuko covers a shift at The Prince and the Fool. Sokka makes it worth his while.

Nip It in the Bud by ranilla_bean | 15k

Zuko gets his nipples pierced for ritual purposes. Sokka needs to get his mouth on them.

hands, knees, please, tangerine by leopardfringe | 7k

Sokka has work to do. Zuko decides that he's going to help out. But as his hands start working on his pant laces, Sokka has a feeling that it's not him that Zuko is trying to help.

nosebleed by nights | 5k

Zuko's worked up after weeks of bickering with his husband, and it takes an entire assassination attempt to break the tension.

Provide by foil | 1.5k

Zuko, recovering from an assault, navigates his sexual relationship with Sokka.

blaze it by architecture_in_f1ll0ry | 9k

Zuko is stressed and overworked and Sokka knows just the solution. Unrelated, Toph keeps getting herself banned from local establishments.

Courtesan by backwheniwrotefic | 2k

“I think,” Sokka says, when it’s late and his face is pressed against Zuko’s bare chest so hard that his cheek squishes up and muffles his voice just a little. “Everyone thinks I’m your courtesan.”

Light in the Dark by Lady_of_the_Flowers | 8k

At least there were still the stars, he thought, gritting his teeth and resuming his slow walk, feet crunching unevenly in the stiff snow. At least there were still the Southern Lights to mark the way home during the black days of deepest winter. It turned out you could get used to anything, even the absence of the moon, with time.

In the Crease by beersforqueers | 3k

Sokka is an NHL goalie and Zuko is the new forward for his team.

An Improbability by HisMomoness | 8k

Sokka must have already said all this on the ride, and he’s repeating it for Zuko’s benefit. It doesn’t have the air of a rehearsed speech, though. Sokka sounds genuinely impressed. Zuko is foolishly, recklessly, a little bit in love.

it's too cold for you here by badgerfrog | 5k

Their shitty apartment may be cold, but Sokka and Zuko are well-versed in ways to keep warm.

heat lightning by spqr | 9k

Zuko gets drunk and sexts his roommate, and things escalate from there.

Spare Me the Glow by chronicpainzuko | 70k

Ten years after Fire Lord Iroh takes the throne and ends the war, Crown Prince Zuko travels to Republic City to have his wedding portrait painted by Sokka, a gifted artist struggling to confront his past.

#zukka #sokka #zuko #atla #fic rec #dick punches

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matramancer · 4 months ago

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"in your embrace" | Hoshina x reader

Synopsis: You were so used to the harshness of the battlefield that the silence in your room left you distraught. Hoshina felt the same.

Tags: angst with fluff, comfort, reader and hoshina are heavily implied to have PTSD, gn! reader

You were used to a loud, fast paced life. One where your gun was in hand’s reach, where all you knew was to shoot, reload, and repeat.

It was what made the silence so jarring sometimes.

You were by no means alone–you could feel Soshiro’s presence beside you in the dark, his fatigued body finally settling in at around 2 am tonight, now spread out on the cold sheets of your bed.

Maybe it was the lull of the air conditioner, or the pitter patter of the rain outside, but something about how mundane it all was pushed your eyes to drift, and soon, you found yourself staring at the still body of your lover.

You stared, and then studied. Your excitable, nimble boyfriend on the field had retired himself into the soft sheets and fluffy pillows of your shared bed, and you briefly recount how they didn’t come with the bed initially. It was a chilly winter Saturday where Hoshina had enough of the plain sheets and opted to change them into cozier bedware, taking note of how much more you hogged the pillows and leaned into his warmth compared to the previous seasons. As advantageous as it was for Soshiro to be able to open his arms and warm you up each and every time a chill ran down your body, he’d prefer a more comfortable and practical solution for you.

“Can’t always count on me to heat up the bed all the time,” he joked in his usual elated tone, the warm covers and pillows the two of you finally settled on snug in your shopping cart.

Tease as he might, it struck a chord in how it was a reminder of the reality of your relationship sometimes. Hoshina Soshiro loves you, but he might not be able to be there on his side of the bed all of the time. And you’re the same.

You love Hoshina Soshiro, but you’re soldiers first and foremost. Spending a calm night on your bed was a luxury of its own. One day it could be his or your last day, and neither of you would know. Then you’d have to face the empty side the other left.

…

The thought of a cold bed scares you.

You hated it. You hated the familiar feeling that snaked itself into your chest, that same feeling when you saw your lover sprawled out in front of you on his deathbed, the splotches of his blood that seeped into your suit as you carried him to the medics burning a hole in your skin. When you didn’t want to let go, and fought against Captain Ashiro’s strong grip as every part of your body burned.

Breathe in, breathe out.

The screams of the other cadets telling you to stand down fell on deaf ears as rounds and rounds of shots flew out of your gun. When you weren’t satisfied with the firepower, your hands violently threw your gun to a barely breathing yoju, letting out a strangled cry as you ran headfirst to the crowd with your special weapon.

“Stand down! That’s an order!” You ignored Ashiro’s blaring voice in your comms, blasting the heads of kaiju open as you cleared a path to the daikaiju.

“Her suit’s overheating!”

“Okonogi, force a shut down!”

Seeing the daikaiju enter your vision, you braced yourself with your weapon as you forced your body to withstand maximum combat power. As your grip tightened, you let out a large cry, as if to challenge the daikaiju standing in your way.

“AAAAAH—“

“(Y/N)!” Gasping, you blink as your vision returns to the dark blue color of your dim bedroom. Your body wasn’t lit aflame, nor were you covered in any actual blood, but the sensation still felt like you were there. Like that battle when Soshiro…

“Shhh…” pale, strong hands gripped yours tightly, the squeeze bringing you out of your thoughts. Soshiro. He was warm. He was alive. Without realizing it, tears formed in your eyes.

Soshiro’s entire being encircled yours, with his arms on top of yours, slowly guiding them away, including your dominant hand at the side of your waist.

You realized slowly that your index finger was itching to get into position, to pull a trigger. That your muscles were so tense. That it felt like you donned on your battlesuit already.

Soshiro was a very patient man, and in times like this, you were grateful. “Breathe in, breathe out,” he starts, intertwining his hands with yours once your fingers slowly uncurl. He attempts to remind you of the present. The soft sheets, your bare skin on his, his hair that tickled the area around your ear.

“You can put away your gun, it’s ok. It’s ok,” he repeats, heart stinging at how you were still quite shaky. “I’m here love.”

Finally, you gasp out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “Soshiro–“ as you turn around to face him, he’s already enveloping you in a hug. “I…”

“Yeah… I get it.” He hugs you close. “I’m scared of losing you too.”

This scenario that the two of you were in was indeed unfortunately, a repeat occurrence for the both of you. Where the memories got too tough, where the other side of being in this line of work shows its ugly sides.

It happens to Soshiro too. Got especially worse when it was your turn to be the one on death’s door, the sound of your bones crunching fresh in his mind. It made him sick—how he couldn’t move fast enough, how he couldn’t wield a gun and help you from afar.

It was like a cruel mockery of his existence, ripping apart his psyche. He’d probably be down the far end if you didn’t make it. But you’re here now, and so was he. It was a rare night where the two of you were in bed together, no alarms or overwork present. Just the two of you and nothing else.

After a while, your initial panic subsides, though the drumming of your heartbeat is still at large. Soshiro furrows his brows, tracing the surgical scars on your bare body. His touch grounds you, pulling your head out of the raging waters in your mind.

You realize that Soshiro has the exact same expression you had when you were having these thoughts. Messy mops of purple hair, lips downturned, eyes crinkled as he sits deep in thought. A far cry of the jovial vice captain of the 3rd Division, but nevertheless, the love of your life.

“What’s in your mind?” He asks first, noticing your piercing gaze on him.

You quip back. “What’s in yours?”

With that, Soshiro lets out a sigh, the slight bitterness of it not going unnoticed. He’s fixated on the marred skin, weighing the thoughts in his head before opening his mouth. “That day..I thought I lost you.” He starts, his throaty voice hoarse yet soft. “I felt like if I left your hospital bed for even a second, you could have died a-and–” your fingers dart to his face as he sucks a breath, tracing soothing circles on him. A habit of yours he always favored. “I wouldn’t have been there. I’d be all alone. I can’t go back.”

It’s Soshiro’s turn to sink into your figure, and you take all of him. You envelop yourself in him, prove to him that both of your existences are real. That the pounding of his heart is happening in front of you, that the shift of your diaphragm wasn’t part of his imagination. “We took turns, huh?” You joked, nuzzling into him. “Had to balance the scales somehow.”

He immediately mock-hits your back a couple times, letting out a sound of disapproval as his grip got harder. Oh, if the world ever knew that your dearest Vice Captain was akin to such a clingy cat. “Don’t say that.”

You hum an apology, nuzzling into him harder as you start to get tangled back into the sheets. This was nice, you think. Although you and Hoshina went way back, nights like these were sparse and few in the Defense Force. You’ve slept together many, many times in many many senses, but an uninterrupted early night where you could just bare your hearts out to each other? You might get greedy if this were to happen more often.

The gears in your head shifted a little as Soshiro and you now lay side by side, and even through the darkness of the room, you can see the outline of his sword sheaths and your gun. Something that chained you to the battlefield no matter where you went.

Would there be a day where you could put down the weapons? Where the only sight you’ll see of them would be his twin swords as a decorative centerpiece in your living room, where the remnants of your days in the field manifested as picture frames and vintage, displayed awards.

It’d be a good life–retiring one day.

“(Y/N),” The call of your name brings you back to Soshiro, whose fingers are now tracing your jaw. “Are you getting tired again?”

You smile softly. Not just at the sight of Soshiro, so intimately in bed with you, staring at you with so much love in his eyes it was infectious–but at the prospect of how this could be your reality one day, with an older, aged Soshiro not at an apartment near the base, but in his private residence back home.

Perhaps you’d spend the rest of your life fighting–hell, it might even end at the battlefield still, but if there was even a 0.001% chance that the life you were living now promised that reality with Hoshina Soshiro, then you’d crawl through both heaven and hell for it.

So, ditching the answer to his initial question, you hunch forward and seal his lips with a soft kiss, and like clockwork, Soshiro’s lips melded with yours. “I love you, Soshiro.”

At the sound of this, Soshiro’s face blossoms into a love so soft, it was like when he saw you in your wedding dress for the first time. “I love you, Hoshina (Y/N).”

Sounding absolutely delighted with that, you finally rend yourself to slumber.

And as he holds your sleeping figure close, tracing the ring on your finger, he thinks to himself that he’ll someday give you the life the both of you deserved. One where you’ll definitely grow old together.

#kaiju no 8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x reader #gender neutral reader #hoshina soshiro x you #soshiro hoshina x you #kn8 #who wants to see reader and soshiro retire and live good lives #raise ur hands #who wants to see them d word on the battlefield in each other's arms

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