#autumn cannot come soon enough

[bonyato]

I just realized we didn't get Death Game this season either. i see .. Well that's okay *deflates like a balloon*

[palatial-monstrosity]

I felt like Totò in Milan at the airport with my leather jacket and everything but there's like 18 degrees here so I feel vindicated

[cherieaura]

　˚ 　　 . ✧　　 　　 ˚ 　　　

autumn cannot come soon enough

[parkerslatte]

Overlooked | Part Four

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut at the beginning. 18+

Summary: Y/N and Eris’s wedding day is approaching fast and Y/N has some final preparations to make.

A/N: There will be a fifth and final part that I cannot wait to write!

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Epilogue

•••

The morning was peaceful and quiet, birds chirped happily outside the window. A light breeze shook the branches of the tree looming near the window. Everything was peaceful and content. Save for the moans and slapping skin that filled the grandest bedroom in the Autumn Palace.

Y/N clutched onto Eris tightly, shameless moans slipping past her lips. Her whole body was alight, everywhere Eris touched burned so beautifully. Their skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat that soaked into the sheets they were tangled in. Ever since the two had woken that morning, they had been lost in the pleasure they provided for one another. Not once did Y/N wish she were anywhere else. If she was told that she was banished from stepping out from the bounds of the large ornate bed, she wouldn’t complain. 

Eris kissed the corner of her mouth and trailed his lips down her neck. Y/N only arched her body into his. While one of his hands was planted on the bed next to her head, the other was inked with hers. An action that made Y/N turn into a puddle the moment he did it. Still, fingers were intertwined. 

From the way his thrusts seemed to be getting sloppy, Y/N could tell Eris was close. And so was she. For too long she had been on that edge, wanting nothing more than to tip over the edge. But she wanted to go over that edge with Eris. 

Digging her nails into Eris’s shoulder’s, Y/N threw her head back. “Eris…keep…keep doing that.”

The pleasure was almost too much. Y/N had never been with anyone before that made her feel the way Eris did. He always knew where to touch her and how to touch her. On the days where all she needed was comfort, he made sure that he was gentle with her and made her feel so loved. And on the days where all she wanted to be was fucked hard, Eris obliged. Even on the days where she wanted to take control, Eris let her and happily took whatever she gave him. 

“Y/N,” Eris panted, lips now hovering above hers. “I am close, my love.”

“Me too,” Y/N said breathlessly. She wanted nothing more than to come.

Eris crashed his lips to hers as his thrusts increased as he chased his release. With only a few more thrusts, Eris came, biting down on Y/N’s lip. As soon as she felt that first spurt within her, Y/N moaned loudly as she came, thrusting her own hips up. Eris’s thrusts slowed as he slowly came down from his high. Y/N opened her eyes and looked into Eris’s. The pleasure on his face still remained and she was sure that she shared a similar expression. 

They breath mixed together as the pleasure in their bodies gradually subsided. As Eris pulled out of her, Y/N moaned softly before sighing in contentment. Eris pulled Y/N into his side and brushed her hair away from her face. 

Y/N watched his movements with loving eyes. She wasn’t ever sure her heart was capable enough for one person. But here she was laying in the arms of her mate and soon to be husband. 

“What are you thinking about?” Eris questioned, his hold tightening on her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her.

“Just about how much I love you,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss to his chest. “And how beautiful you are.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way his cheeks tinted the lightest shade of red. No matter how many times Y/N tenderly told Eris how beautiful he was, he would always get flustered. She loved it. 

“I was thinking that we have a bath,” Eris asked. “As much as I loved our adventures in this bed this morning, I would like to clean the sweat from my body.”

“I agree,” Y/N said. “We have a wedding to finish planning.”

Eris groaned. “Why couldn’t we have a small-scale wedding again? If one more person comes up to me to ask what colour I want the tablecloths, I am going to set the whole hall on fire.”

“Because, my love, you are the one who insisted on having a grand wedding,” Y/N said.

Eris lifted himself from the bed, gently dragging Y/N with him. “It is only because it is what you wanted.”

“It was,” Y/N replied. “But I would be happy to marry you in a shack.”

Eris rolled his eyes and climbed out of the bed. “You should have said something. We would have been married weeks ago.”

Y/N stood up and placed her hands on Eris’s firm chest. “In all seriousness, Eris. Thank you. Having a beautiful wedding was all I ever wanted when I was a child and now you are making my dream come true.”

Eris tenderly cupped her cheeks. “Sweetheart, if it were possible, I would make all of your dreams come true.”

Y/N leaned into his touch. “You already have, my darling.”

A smile bloomed on Eris’s face and he leaned down to press his lips against Y/N’s. He could feel the bond between them fill with the love the two of them shared and it only made Eris feel lighter on his feet. Just that feeling alone could put him in a good mood for the rest of the day. 

“Let’s go and have that bath now,” Y/N said. “I don’t know about you, but my legs ache quite a lot.”

Eris laughed and linked their fingers together, pulling her along to their bathroom. 

***

Y/N lay in between Eris’s legs and her back rested against his chest as the two simply relaxed in the hot water. If she was being completely honest with herself, she was fighting the urge to go to sleep. The feeling of Eris’s fingers gently massaging the shampoo into her hair was the best feeling she was sure she would ever feel.

“I managed to control my fire,” Eris whispered into her ear. 

“I noticed,” Y/N answered, shuffling a little causing the water to splash. 

“That means you are beginning to control your own powers,” Eris stated. “I’m proud of you.”

Over the past few weeks, Y/N had managed to put a name to her powers, or even a description of what they can do. They amplify others. Originally, Y/N only thought that Eris magic only reacted to her because of the bond, but once they tested it out on Eris’s mother, fire roared to life with just a simple touch of her hand against his mother. 

Eris was sure that there was more to her power but Y/N didn’t want to focus on that at the moment. Of course she was happy to have powers, when her family never thought she did, Y/N had proved them all wrong. But her focus was on Eris and the wedding that was coming closer and closer, only a few days away. 

“When the wedding is over and our honeymoon, can we return to practicing with my powers,” Y/N asked. “You mentioned that there might be more to them.”

“We can do whatever you wish,” Eris said. “And it will get me out of those boring meetings I am forced to attend.”

Despite Y/N being High Lady of Autumn, there were still some officials that didn’t respect her title and treated her like filth on the bottom of their shoe. Eris had slolwy been flitering them out as he still needed to make sure he wouldn’t accidently cause an internal war within the Autumn Court. But Eris had asked that Y/N not attend the meetings until he had gotten rid of the officials that always opposed her and were disrespectful of her. 

Y/N reluctantly agreed but would always send Eris a whole page of notes of things she wanted to be brought up in the meeting. Eris always complied with that request. 

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, tilting her head to look at her mate. “I’m glad that I’m nothing more than an excuse to you.”

Eris chuckled and brushed his lips across her shoulder. “You are so much more than a reason, love. You are the entire reason this court is running as smoothly as it is. All of those ideas you write out for me to bring up at meetings make a large difference in the court.”

“You are also to thank for that,” Y/N responded.

“Oh please,” Eris said, “it’s definitely more you than me. You’ve been High Lady for a little two months and you have already changed this court for the better. There are children, females and males who look up to you.”

“They look up to you too,” Y/N argued. 

Eris shook his head. “They still see me as the spiteful, cruel, insufferable male I was when my father was alive. That’s probably what they will always see me as.”

Y/N frowned, turning around in the bathtub, causing the water to splash around them. “But you are the furthest thing from that.”

Eris avoided eye contact. “I’m being completely honest when I say this, Y/N, but it is not far from the truth. I was cruel and horrible for centuries. People never looked me in the eye in fear for what I would do.”

Y/N cupped his cheeks, his stubble rough against her palms. “Eris, listen to me when I say that you are the most incredible male I have ever met. You are not cruel. You are not spiteful. You are not insufferable. You are the furthest thing from those things. Sure, you put up that facade but you did that to protect your family, and that speaks volumes. You endured so much torture at the hands of your father just to keep the ones you love safe. My love, your heart is so large and it is honestly a shame not everyone gets to experience it.”

Eris closed his eyes and leaned into Y/N’s touch. “I only wish for you to see the amount of love in my heart. It is all reserved for you, every single drop of it.”

Y/N surged forward and pressed her lips against Eris’s. There was a sense of reassurance within the kiss and it was these types of kisses that made Y/N fall in love with Eris all over again. However, Y/N pulled away, a smile toying her lips. 

“You are perfect, Eris Vanserra,” Y/N muttered, lips ghosting over his. 

“As are you, my love,” Eris whispered before firmly pressing his lips against hers. 

The two stayed in the bath until the water was cold.

***

A small gasp left Y/N’s mouth as he stared at her dress in the mirror. It was everything she had ever imagined it would be. The golden fabric seemed to glow as she moved. The dress flattered her immensely, extenuating every part of her body which she loved. She could only imagine Eris’s reaction to it. It made her want to move the wedding a day forward. 

“Do you like it, High Lady?” the seamstress asked.

“Please, call me Y/N. There is no need for formalities,” Y/N said, offering the seamstress a smile. “Your work is incredible…”

“Aliana, High- Y/N,” Aliana replied. 

“Aliana, your work is truly remarkable,” Y/N said, admiring the gown in the mirror.

“Thank you, Y/N,” Aliana said.

“Where did you learn to make dresses like this?” Y/N asked. 

“My mother,” Aliana replied. “Though she was miles better than me. Her work shadows mine.”

“If they were anything better than this they must be something of legend,” Y/N exclaimed. “I would love to see them.”

Aliana’s gaze saddened. “They were all destroyed. By the previous High Lord. He- he was angry that my mother could not create a suit in time for him. He broke her hand and banished her from this court fifty years ago.”

Y/N frowned and gently took Aliana’s hand in hers. Aliana flinched but quickly relaxed. “I am so sorry, Aliana. Do you know where your mother is now?”

“She’s in the Winter Court. The High Lord has been kind to her there,” Aliana answered. 

“Have you seen her since she was banished?” Y/N asked. 

Aliana shook her head. “I haven’t. I can’t afford to leave the court and the previous High Lord always kept me busy. I have had some free time since his passing though.”

Y/N lost herself in thought for a moment. “Would you mind helping me out of this dress, Aliana?”

Aliana’s eyes widened. “Don’t you like it?”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “I don’t like it, I absolutely adore it. I just need to deal with some matters with the High Lord.”

Aliana nodded. “Of course.”

“And Aliana?” Y/N said as she began to help Y/N out of the dress.

“Yes?”

“Come to the wedding tomorrow,” Y/N said. “I don’t have a formal invitation to give you, but just mention at the door that I allowed you to be there. I will set a seat for you.”

“I couldn’t possibly attend!” Aliana said, her curls bounced wildly as she shook her head.

“You could, you are the one who made this dress after all,” Y/N said. “It would be a crime if you weren’t there.”

“I don’t know,” Aliana said, fiddling with her fingers. “It wouldn’t be right. I am simply a seamstress, I don’t belong in court. Especially a wedding as high class as yours.”

“Aliana, listen to me, I do not care about class or what you do for a living. This night is not only a celebration for Eris and I, it can be a celebration for everyone. It gives everyone a chance to see how the changes taking place in court are for the better,” Y/N explained. “I want you to be there. Not even as a seamstress who made my amazing dress, I wish you to be there as my friend.”

Aliana stilled for a moment before smiling shyly. “It would be an honour.”

Y/N smiled and squeezed her hand gently. “It will be an honour to have you there.”

Aliana helped Y/N out of her dress without a fuss, Y/N didn’t mention the fact that she had seen Aliana wipe away the few stray tears that fell down her cheeks. Once the dress was off and back upon the mannequin, Y/N bid Aliana goodbye, not before making her promise that she would attend the wedding. 

***

The moment she was home, Y/N found herself walking to Eris’s office. He would only be there or in their bedroom, he was not preparing any last minute wedding preparations until Y/N was by his side. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, a hint of urgency to her voice. 

“Yes, my love?” Eris said, looking up from the papers on his desk. 

“I need you to contact Kallias immediately,” Y/N stated. 

Eris’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay with me, but my seamstress, Aliana, told me that her mother was banished from the court fifty years ago,” Y/N explained. “She hasn’t had the chance to see her mother and I wish to bring them together again.”

“Why was she banished?” Eris questioned.

“She could not create a suit in time for your father,” Y/N said.

At the mention of his father, Eris gripped the pen in his hand a little tighter. Y/N hurried over to him and draped herself across the back of his chair, hugging him close. Eris immediately dropped the pen and caressed Y/N’s skin, leaning back into her touch. 

“She made her way to the Winter Court and I wish to lift her ban and invite her to the wedding,” Y/N said, pressing a kiss against Eris’s cheek. 

“I will write to Kallias at once,” Eris said. 

“Thank you, my love,” Y/N said. “I would do it but I am not sure if other High Lord’s will take me seriously yet.”

“Of course they do,” Eris said. “They probably take you more seriously than me.”

Y/N chuckled slightly before pulling away from Eris. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Eris replied, pushing his chair back.

Y/N felt the gentle caress of his hand against hers before she felt Eris tugging her until she was situated in his lap. Her arms immediately wrapped around his neck. 

“I get to call you my wife,” Eris whispered softly. “My mate and my wife, the love of my life, the most incredible female in the world, how am I ever going to introduce you to people?”

Y/N smiled. “You could always list all of them. And possibly add a few more.”

“Your head is going to be too big to walk through that door,” Eris teased. He looked at Y/N before his face suddenly became serious. “But thank you, Y/N. For giving me the love I never thought I deserved.”

Y/N gently pressed her lips against his and felt the way Eris melted into her body. “Thank you, Eris. For not only helping me get out of the Night Court, but for making me realise that I deserved more.”

Eris’s only response was to surge forward and press his lips against hers, harder than before. All of the love and emotion, Y/N felt it all and it was the most amazing feeling. 

As Eris’s lips left hers and began to pepper them down her neck, Y/N pulled away and Eris groaned. With a chuckle, Y/N climbed off his lap. “We can finish that later. Now I need you to write to Kallias and make sure Aliana’s mother gets her by tomorrow. I have some other things I need to attend to.”

“And what would those be?” Eris asked.

“I have some more invitations to give out.”

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Stay

Author's Note: My period started, I had some feelings, wrote some established relationship fluff/smut; enjoy!

Content Warnings: Rhys uses his daemati powers for a quickie (because he absolutely WOULD and you cannot change my mind on that)

------

It was a mistake to go back to work this soon. My whole body aches, the newly accepted mating bond pulling on my bones like it’s a living thing crawling around beneath my skin. I can’t escape the searing heat of it, not even with the office windows thrown open, the dark lace curtains billowing in the soft autumn breeze. I should be cold enough to wear the sweater I’d stolen off the armchair this morning, but it sits draped over my desk chair instead. 

Rhys had been called back to the Hewn City two weeks before we were scheduled to return from our retreat. Or as he was so affectionately calling it “The Mating Bond Sex Romp of the Century”. We were supposed to have a whole month to ease into newly mated bliss; the extra time was supposed to help with the chafing and general irritation that would come when we inevitably had to separate and return to civilization. And of course Keir had gone and fucked that up for us. We’d flown in last night, and Rhys was gone before dawn this morning. The empty Townhouse was going to drive me insane and training with Cass and Az would have driven Rhys insane, so my only solution was to come into work and handle two weeks worth of paperwork. There’s certainly enough to keep me occupied for the day, except I can’t think straight! The words in front of me blur, the meaning of them nonsensical. I shouldn’t be here! I should be tangled up with my mate; the only thought in my head should be how much deeper I can take him. 

I lean back in my chair, palms pressing into my eyes with a groan of frustration. Stupid fucking Kier! The only sounds I should be hearing right now are my mate’s as I run my lips over his chest, tracing tattoo and muscle and that dark little patch of hair that leads me down…

“Well isn’t this a pretty little thought to walk into.” Even his mental voice is enough to make the bond shiver in delight and I throw down my shields with abandon to let him in further.

“Come here and I’ll make it more than a thought,” I return. We are beyond pretense and formality now. I want-need-him. My body feels like it might burst into flame if his hands are not roving every inch of my skin. I knew the bond would be intense, but not to this degree. I could live or die with just his touch alone.

Night chilled shadows swirl around our shared mental ground like a cat brushing up against its owner. The gesture alone makes me slump down into the seat and sigh. “All worked up, aren’t we?” He purrs, but his voice is strained. 

“I’ll rip Keir’s throat out for this. We were supposed to have more time.” I snarl.

The longer my shields are down, the better my mental view of him becomes, until it looks as if the two of us are standing on an adamant bridge, surrounded by endless starlight. Like this he has free reign to all of me, mind and soul; a brush of his fingers and he can walk into any memory he wants, a flick of his wrist and he can take complete control of my body and I’d be powerless to stop him. We are equals and he makes sure I never forget it, but like this, when there is no damper on his power, when he doesn’t have to hide behind a courtly mask, all his power untampered and wild--there are few things I love more. I love him like this. I love being able to surrender to the power of him, yield my own and let him take control so that I do not have to think beyond the pleasure he’s capable of ringing out of my body.

He reaches out and brushes his fingers over my cheek and I could scream under the heat that flares through my physical body. It’s not quite the touch I want, but it’s enough to make my blood sing.

“I know, love, and I’m sorry.”

I turn my head and press my lips into his palm, catching his wrist so I can keep him right where I need him. “Please,” I whisper, because even here in this space I can’t shake the desperation that claws its way up my throat. “Just for a few minutes. I need you.”

A growl sounds in the back of his throat as he leans in and crashes his lips against mine. It’s a flurry of tongue and teeth, his free hand threading into my hair and I drop his wrist in favor of tossing an arm around his neck. There are too many clothes between us, even here, and I claw unabashedly at his shirt until he gets the hint and magics it away.

There is no feeling like the warmth of his skin against mine. Only when we’re chest to chest, my own top disappearing, does the fire in my veins finally turn from painful to pleasurable. I am warm everywhere he touches, no longer consumed by this insistent ache. I sigh contentedly as I nip at his lower lip.

“Better?” He asks as he slides an arm beneath my ass and lifts me so I can wrap my legs around his waist. My back hits the handrails of our shared mental bridge, the cold stone biting into my flushed skin. 

“A little,” I say as I press soft kisses along his mouth and chin.

He rocks his hips against my still clothed center, the friction so heady it makes me toss my head back and moan, giving him the perfect access to nip and suck at my throat. “I only have a couple minutes, we’ll have to make this quick.”

I don’t want quick. I want that slow rhythm we’d found that first night in the cabin, his hips slowly rocking into mine, his cock dragging through my dripping folds, my nails clawing at his shoulders as he drew moan after moan out of me, until I had begged him to finish inside me. I want the lazy roll of his hips as he holds me against the mattress, taking his time, teasingly nipping at my throat as he tells me how pretty I look around his cock, as he drags out every stroke and thrust until there is not a single thought in my head but him. But the burning beneath my skin is returning, and I can feel the pull of his duties in the back of his mind as if it’s calling to me instead. This is all the time we have right now, I will have to take it.

The rest of our clothes disappear in a rush and he slides right into me, all the way down to the hilt and I let myself scream into the endless darkness of our bond. 

He presses his nose into my neck, where it meets my shoulder as he lets me adjust. Not that I truly need to here, but the gentleness of the motion, how concerned he always is for my well being, makes me want him even more. “I’ll make it up to you tonight. I promise.”

I pull him in for another searing kiss, my hands tangling in the silky strands of his hair. “Make it up to me a couple times?”

He slides almost completely out of me before thrusting back in, stealing the air from my lungs in a rush. “As many as you’d like, Darling.”

With the way I feel right now, I don’t think any amount will truly satiate me. I think I may just need him like this for the rest of my immortal existence. 

Pleasure licks up my spine as he speeds up his movements, the stones at my back biting into my skin, keeping me grounded for a few seconds longer. His hands squeeze at my ass, kneading my tender flesh as the motion spreads me open a little more for him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses into my neck. The stars overhead spin and swirl like a glittering storm, darkness leaking off his shoulders as his wings threaten to appear. I rock my hips into his, matching his pace with a swirling motion I know drives him crazy. “Maybe I really should just kill Kier.”

The sound that comes out of me as he hits a spot inside me that makes the bridge shake as my mental grip on the psychic plain slips is more moan than laugh.

“Then I could fly right home and take you like this against every surface in the house.”

I clench so tight around him at the thought that he growls and sinks his teeth into my shoulder in retaliation and I let my head fall back further to grant him more access to me. I want his mark everywhere, to the point no collar of the sweaters I’ve stolen from him can hide them. 

“If you’re asking my permission,” I bite out through a gasp as his fingers slide between my legs, teasing at my clit, pushing me closer and closer to that glorious edge. “You have it.”

His thrusts grow sloppy as his speed increases, his own release barreling towards him as I slide a hand out of his hair and down between the valley of his shoulders. I’ll leave my own marks tonight, so everyone knows he is as much mine as I am his. If his wings were to make an appearance, then this would be where I would trace the thin membrane until I find that spot that drives him crazy. But he’d never bring them out for a quickie, they are too sacred for that. I will settle for his shoulders for now.

My chest brushes his as I gasp for breath, so close to the edge I can feel it in every nerve ending in my body. The bond between us glows warm and bright, filling up every bit of me as he hits that sweet little spot inside me. My eyes screw shut, thigh muscles tightening around his hips as he hits it again and again and again.

“Love you,” he murmurs in my ear. “Love you so much.”

One last thrust and I’m gone, his own release chasing mine as I whimper out his name. 

From somewhere outside of us I hear a male voice call his name, demanding to know if he’s listening. 

Rhys grumbles nonsensically into my neck as he holds me for a moment, my body trembling as it comes down from its high. This is the first time all day I feel like I can breathe and I cling to his shoulders for a moment, begging for more time.

“Better, love?”

I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “If I say no, will you stay?”

From somewhere outside of me I hear a knock, probably the company’s billing department wanting those expense reports I was attempting to work on earlier. Seems the real world needs things from both of us, regardless of our wishes.

My heart sinks in my chest as I slowly unwind my legs from my mate’s waist and touch solid ground. He is High Lord and despite his protests, I hadn’t been ready to let go of my job, even with a title of my own to deal with, this was territory we would have to deal with eventually, even if we’d had the month we were supposed to.

I stretch up on my toes to kiss him again, gently this time, but there is no less fervor in his response than before. Perhaps that pulling beneath my skin was not just my own need, but his, calling to me from across Velaris. 

“I love you,” I say as that knock rattles the bridge, our mental grip slipping as reality beckons, louder and louder. “I can grab dinner on my way home.”

He steals another kiss like it’s his last meal. “As long as I still get you for dessert.”

And then he’s gone, nothing more than a star flecked shadow curled in the corner of my mind as reality comes crashing back in for both of us. 

I try not to fidget at the uncomfortable wetness between my legs as I straighten the papers on my desk and tell the incessant knocker to come in. I won’t be doing anyone any favors if I start dishing out the same judgment my mate is on Kier here in the office. 

“You got those papers for me?”

I leaf through the stack on the desk, using a bit of magic to hide the glaring scent of my arousal. I just have to make it a couple more hours. Then, Rhys is all mine, and I’ll have to find some creative ways to keep him in our bed until the bond finally settles.

If it ever settles.

[pricetagged]

that death is a very stable job

''Cause I love my baby, tall, dark Hades. Lord of death is down on his knees for me.'' Poor little Dormouse, with her cruel father and labourer's hands. You find an unexpected guard dog in one of the passing Knights.

Enjoy 4.8k words of half inaccurate-medieval, half poorly-built-fantasy AU. Inspired by a few existing historical AUs (like @bi-writes 1600s au, 391780's 'the rus') and a scene from 'The Serpent Queen'. Also, I stan 'old grizzled dog with a heart Ghost' so here you go.

Warnings/content: implied domestic abuse/sex work (not Ghost), very mild suicidal ideation, violence, power imbalance (social hierarchy ew), kissing & intimacy (no smut. yet.). Reader is described as a young woman, generally body-neutral (one reference to being 'plump').

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

What makes betrayal so potent is that, by its very nature, it can only come from someone you trust. Of course, as a child you knew little of the abstracts and intricacies of trust. You knew the warmth of your mother's bosom. You knew the sharp, lingering smell of lye that slung to her chapped hands. You knew that you were not hungry or hurt for those blissful early years, at least.

You did not know that you had a father.

He spent those blissful, early years of yours fighting for a King and cause that meant far less to him than the pocketful of coins he earned and promptly spent on pleasures. But a soldier cannot earn coin in times of peace, not if he weren't a member of the standing army, so with treaties signed he shipped back to neglected wife and babe.

You did not know that fathers could be cruel.

Your mother protected you as best as she could, but slippery riverbanks and lixivium fumes were hardly safe for a little girl. So you learned to scurry about, eyes wide and feet soft as a dormouse. When your mother's whimpers and father's shouts split the silence of dusk you crouched and covered your mouth lest his attention switched to you. On the rare times your father called for you, you remembered your mother's hushed advice - be quiet, be meek, be sweet - and bobbed along to the waves of his fickle moods. When your stomach growled and gnawed you stifled it with a look at your mother's wan face, her fingers worked to the bone for mere pennies that were no longer spent on peat and produce. You lived in a cold house, an empty house. A strained house.

'Look at the size o'her, running wild, eating me out of house and home!' Lies. Your father hunched over your mother's shaking form, three meager brass farthings spilled across the crooked kitchen bench. 'You put her to work, or I will.'

The lye stung your skin. Sometimes you imagined yourself floating off, down in the frigid waters, your funeral clothes being salvinia and your shroud made of pennywort. Those thoughts rose like lily pads, big and blooming and plentiful, the autumn your mother passed.

'You've really got to work now, girl,' your Father sneered. 'Got to earn your keep now that your mother can't cry on your behalf.'

The glint in his eye pricked at your neck, made your spine stiffen and eyes shift away. Be quiet, be meek, be sweet. You wondered if your mother's advice would save you from his basest assertions, or encourage them. You would soon find out.

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

Ordinarily the Mid-Autumn festival was a slight reprieve, allowing a few days for your aching, numb fingers to warm and stretch as you enjoyed the city turned to colour. Ordinarily.

This year, you found yourself hauled down to the drinking district, your Father's blunt, filthy fingers digging into the soft meat of your upper arm. It was still daylight, thankfully, but you already felt exposed as he had you linger in the square near the public houses. You could already hear the hoots and laughter of raucous men enlivened by drink and company. The smell of stale ale and piss was not enough to cover the scent of fresh baking and roasted game drifting on the breeze. You shivered, your burned, you hungered.

Meek little dormouse, scurrying around the greasy ferret who held her tail under his claws.

Your Father's chance came as the sun was setting, candlelight just now visible through the slats and windows of taverns. Far from cozy, it reminded you of the lidded eyes of some lazy predator about to watch your ruination.

'I don't care if you are crusader to the gods themselves! Knight of the Realm or not, you can't come into my pub and throw furniture around like you're at the Solstice games!'

The snarling Madame looked comically small next to the absolute beast of a man currently ducking under the doorframe. Watching her chuck the splintered leg of a chair after him you thought her lucky that he didn't want more of a fuss. You had never seen a man so big, so broad, seeming bigger whilst dressed still in his mail and wearing the colours of the King. He merely grunted as he made his way to the tethering post, letting her threats and screeches fizzle into the cool, twilight air. Leather-gloved hands worked at the harness of the dappled stallion you had been admiring earlier, easily more than 18 hands tall and capable of carrying this brute. You had imagined earlier slicing that very harness and riding hard across the cobblestones away from your father. Away anywhere.

'Good sir, are you in need of lodgings?' The words dripped from your Father's lips like ichor. You could smell the sickly underlying rot.

The Knight's hands stilled, head still lowered. His voice rumbled out, deep and rough as gravel.

'You offerin', then? 'ow much will that cost me?'

'Well, it's busy in the Festival. The guest houses are full but my home is open to weary travelers-'

A barked laugh cut him off. The Knight raised his head, pinning your father in place like a moth in a hobbybook. You quickly looked away, pretending to busy yourself with a nearby fruit cart. His face was covered, a dark black slash across his lower face like an empty maw. But his eyes. You could have drowned in those eyes, dark as they were. They pulled you in more than the call of the river on your bad days. If you stared too long you'd never wade out.

'Ain't you charitable,' you couldn’t see his mouth but you were sure that he sneered.

'Well, a former soldier should be willing to support the Crown. Although, with a mouth to feed a few coins wouldn't go amiss..' his hand swept back and you tried not to cringe away.

'Former solider, eh?' Your Father clearly had the Knight's attention now. As did you. Though you continued to look away you felt his gaze like you felt touch. Like he was grasping you, keeping you still. Your head felt heavy as you raised it towards them, now a part of this bargain whether you wanted to be or not.

'I know what it's like to seek the comfort of a warm hearth and soft bed. I would not see you ride off into the cold night.'

The Knight huffed; you could almost mistake it for a laugh. Though quiet, the voices and laughter of the nearby inns seemed quieter, like all sound and light was absorbed by this armoured beast. Once, just after your mother died, you headed to the riverbank as always for work. It was barley daybreak, some of the older more experienced women already beginning their washing, but you walked on. And on. Until the river led you to its mouth, rushing and rocky and dangerous. You wanted to jump in. You felt the same now, gazing at this man.

'How much for the girl, then?' He looked right at you as he said it, catching your wide, staring eyes. You didn't blink, couldn't look away.

'She is my daughter! Sir, I-' that same rot, spewing out of his mouth.

'I didn't ask who she is, I asked 'ow much?'

Your Father took a step towards him, faltering under the weight of his gaze. He leaned, then, trying to seem ashamed. Trying to seem like a father should.

'Sir, she is my daughter. I can do nothing but take offence at what you are suggesting.'

The Knight pulled out a small velvet purse, heavy and distended with coins. They clinked as they smacked into the cobbles at your Father's feet. All pretenses dropped, then, as he scrambled to pick it up with greedily shaking fingers. Prize in hand, he found his courage as he sidled closer to him, thick neck open and exposed as he leaned in to whisper his betrayal. His filicide.

'She's a bit older, yes, but unused to the ways of men, mind. With a firm hand I'm sure she cou-' a gloved fist at his throat turned perfidy to gasps. You watched red bloom instantly under those fingers, and marveled at the strength. The violence.

'Your own daughter,' he sneered. 'What kind of man, soldier at that, would sell his daughter to a man like me?'

Your Father was bigger than you, yes, but looked like a poppet in the hands of this beast, so easily dragged towards him ready to be shaken in his maw.

'I'd love to think that she isn't yours, that she's some whore you peddle out to drunken leches in the alley. But you're slimier than an eel in birdshit, aren't ya?'

You didn't move, didn't speak as you saw his fingernails scrabbling uselessly against the unforgiving strength. You, for a small moment, felt the claw release your tail. Run, you thought. A look at this behemoth and his horse had you thinking again. Run where?

Be quiet, be meek, be sweet.

'Please!' The plea bubbled up your throat like acid.

He said nothing, did not loosen his grasp, as he tilted his head like a dog.

'It is as he says. He is my father,' you continued.

A scoff stilled your words.

'Some father, look at the state of ya.'

You looked down at your chapped, scarred hands. Your patched, slightly-too-short shirts. You felt the throb of the bruises on your upper arms, the beginnings of hollowness eating away at your usually plump cheeks.

'You mistake me, Sir,' You could barely hear your voice over the blood rushing in your ears. 'I am not asking for his life. I am asking you to take me with you. Please.'

Silence. His eyes flickered over you anew, contemplating. Your hummingbird heart fluttered in your chest.

'Close y'r eyes, girl. Until I say.' Your shocked hesitance made him growl. 'Now!'

The imprints of tavern candlelight burned behind your lids. You let the corners of your mouth flick up.

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

Your Knight's name was Simon. The Ghost, it was rumoured. You weren't seasoned on the field so you knew not of his reputation, but the reaction of those you encountered gave it away. Even without the blood staining his hands he was imposing. Tall, broad, intense. You still hadn't seen under the kerchief he kept around his face, but you spent many nights imagining. Was his nose crooked, or was it a trick of the light on fabric? Did he have stubble across his jaw that matched the fine, blond strands that decorated the top of his head? Did he smile? Scowl? Was he handsome?

He was gruff, certainly. You spent the first few days obeying your mantra - be quiet, be meek, be sweet -but it didn't provoke anything in him at all. Neither praise nor censure. It seemed, rather, that he was determined that your presence would be nothing more than a fact of circumstance. Not worth much fuss.

'She needs winter clothes. A nice dress. A travelling cloak. And some boots.'

That was how you found yourself perfectly still, getting prodded and pinned in the parlour of a tailor shop in the city's mid-tier. The seamstress' cheeks burned red as she turned her disapproving eyes between her task and the Knight who refused to leave the dressing area. He dwarfed the chaise, leather and chains indenting delicate brocade. After a grunted 'She's my Charge. If you want my coin, then 'm not leavin'' he sat silent. Just kept his eyes on your face. As always.

You couldn't find it in you to feel embarrassed. He'd done no more than see you in your petticoats, even at the guesthouses where you lodged for the night. An altogether better set up that you could've envisioned for yourself. You had thought your Father like a sly weasel, thought any future husband like a carrion crow ready to pick over whatever your Father left. But you thought Simon like a grizzled old guard dog. A dormouse held no interest when bigger prey was to be had. When you didn't pose a threat.

He clothed you. Fed you. Ordered hot bathwater for your room - a luxury you had never experienced - and otherwise left you alone. All he touched you with was his gaze, steady and unashamed. Strange how you now saw your silence -quiet, meek- as a barrier.

'Where are we going?' You worked up the courage to ask as you rode behind him up to the next tier of the city, seeing wooden roofs change to tile.

'The Palace.'

'The Palace? What, but what about me?'

'You asked me to take you wiv me, didn' ya?' you felt the rumble of his words all the way from his chest to your arms.

'Yes, but.. What, what will I do there? How will you explain this?'

You realised now your lack of foresight. You foolishly assumed that someone high-ranking wouldn't be starting brawls in lower-tier taverns. Or magistrating over scoundrels due to the sale of their daughters. You thought, perhaps, of an impoverished country knight who came to the city only for the festivities. You could bargain your way (or slip away) if he turned out to be just as bad as your progenitor, and make a living in one of the towns or hamlets that stretched along the woodlands of the Kingdom. Foolish girl.

'No one will ask questions. No one will bother ya,' You believed him, felt the threat in his words.

'But they'll think. They'll wonder.' I wonder, you thought to yourself.

'Can't stop that,' He snorted. 'Why don't you ask me what you really want to ask?' He pulled sharply on the reigns, causing you to clutch hard around his waist and whisper your words pressed into his back.

'What are you going to do with me?'

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

"Ho, Simon! Hard to drag ye from yer hermitage in Northmire,' you stared as a smiling Isleman slapped your Knight hard on the back, hooking his arm and dragging him down into the booth. 'And ye've brought a wee Bonnie thing with y-'

'That'll do, Johnny,' Simon growled. Still, he let himself be handled onto the bench. He looked at you, standing still, staring at the other side of the table. 'Well? You sitting down or wot?'

You scrambled down beside him, too timid to sit next to the laughing stranger. Too wary to put your back to the rest of the tavern. Past Simon's profile, you snuck a peek at the man - Johnny - and found him looking back at you. He looked friendly, sure, but you were reminded of the harriers that plucked young hens from the woods. His eyes were too sharp, too bright. His smile was a little wicked, too. Too intense to be without danger.

'Well, the King'll be happy. He'll finally have a real reason to say naw to all the harpy mothers pecking at him about their single daughters. Cannae say I expected it, but congratulations,' You blinked. 'Cannae believe you beat Garrick to it an' all, thought fer sure he'd be the dutiful one. Well, first that is.'

Simon ignored him as he flagged down the serving girl. He ordered for you, as always.

'Bit bold of ye, though, plastering her in your colours. Scared o' a challenge to her? Like anyone would chance their arm seeing her wi' you, Your Grace,' Johnny laughed again, blue eyes shining as he watched Simon's jaw tick under the scarf. 'Go oan then, introduce us.'

'Dormouse, meet Johnny.'

'Aw, come oan!' Johnny leaned over, then. 'He's forgotten his manners all the way oot in Northmire. I'm John MacTavish, of the Northern Isles. I've known this one fer a while, but never knew him tae settle.'

You squeaked out your own name in return, quickly taking a sip of the weak ale Simon pushed in front of you. Gave yourself more time to take stock. He too had the King's colours in a sash across his chest. Unlike Simon, he wasn't wearing full mail or a face covering. A heavy shirt of forest green, a red tartan kilt, and thick knitted socks were his attire of choice. Blue warpaint swirled from his temples down to his jaw, and he'd shaved his hair only on the sides. Not commonly seen in the Tiered City, but you knew the islanders to the North of the mountain wore similar garb. You let your eyes catch the glint of a dagger in his socks, as well as the hefty broadsword hooked by the table. The warpaint on his face was not just for decoration.  

You stayed quiet, munching on thick slices of bread dipped in broth as they talked, Low, rumbling voices and warmth from the hearth lulled you to a wakeful sleep, eyes still open but mind calm. MacTavish had called Simon 'Your Grace'. You were wearing his colours. You were going to the Palace. Something about that niggled at you, deep at the base of your skull.

You woke to Simon gently sliding you along the bench. Big hands and stained fingers so soft, like you were an overripe damson he wanted to preserve.

'Time for bed. C'mon, mouse.'

'Why do you call me that?' You murmured, still feeling his arm around you as he led you to your rooms. 'I never told you that was my Mother's nickname for me. Dormouse.'

You felt him huff out a laugh, pressed close against you.

'Didn't need ya to. It's obvious.' he answered after a pause. He leaned down, bracing you against the  room door. Only his scarf separated you from his flesh, close as you were. Wide eyes meeting dark. You shared the same breath.

'You're quiet like one. Seem sweet. But I saw you'd be willing to chew y'r own leg off to escape a trap,' he whispered that horrible truth so tenderly. His blunt, calloused fingers left firetrails on your cheek. 'My mouse. My survivor.'

His thick forearm braced your back as he opened the door, stopping your from tumbling into the emptiness behind. He needn't have bothered; you'd already fallen into him.

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

'How many more days' to the Palace?'

'Two, if we don't loiter. Johnny'll meet us at the gates to the Citadel.'

You looked up, seeing the Palace fortress taller and more intimidating than it had ever seemed down at the city's lowest levels. You were awed by the mason and marble buildings up here, the clean streets and cleaner people. Everything seemed to gleam this high-up. This close to the sun. Close to the Palace. Your skin had started to heal, after a week or so without labour and with good meals and rest, but you could see the discolouration that would never fade. It made you pick at your sleeves. Dormice didn't gleam. They hid.

You looked at the wide streets and their sun-bleached stones. Nowhere to hide here.

'And when we get there? What will happen?'

'We'll greet the Court. I have news for the King. They'll be a Ball f' the Festival. And you,' Simon stilled your steps, 'You will be good. You'll do as I tell ya. Not everyone is a friend. And I won't always be wiv ya.'

Perhaps you imagined it but you swore you could see something soft - warm - in those dark eyes of his as you nodded. You had years of experience avoiding the attentions of predators; you could do the same for Simon.

When you reached the Citadel Gates Johnny was waiting as foretold, chatting with a guardsman by the pulleys. He perked up as he spotted Simon's horse, all dappled grey with black skull harness. A proud danse macabre, carrying The Ghost.

'Here they are, the Duke and Duchess of Northmire! Let them pass, go oan. Here, raise his banner.'

It was a good thing that your blood turned to ice in your veins; it prevented you from letting go of Simon's waist. You watched as a square banneret in the same colours as your new travelling cloak - and dresses, and overskirts, and, and - rose to flutter slightly below the banner of the King. The wind lured the heavy fabric to thwack against the sky, echoing the drumbeats of your tambour heart. What were you marching towards?

Johnny had mounted his own stead, canting a light pace next to you and Simon.

'Ye should hae seen the ponces and pricks - sorry, My Lady - who came riding up here in their carriages this mornin'. I ken they think they were showing off but the guards and I were havin' a barry laugh watching the wheels get stuck in the cobbles and streets from the mid-tier all the way up-'

'Y'r point, Johnny?'

'Alright, cool yer blood. The point is, we've got tae change our travel plans. Be at the Palace tomorrow, nae a day later.' He sent Simon a significant look that you weren't so stunned as to miss. 'We've got a night hosted by Garrick's sister, then we'll be off in the morning.'

'Garrick's sister' was a comely, slender woman with sharp eyes and a kind smile. She, or rather the Garrick family, kept a townhouse in the top tier close to the Citadel as well as their estate at Thamesbury.  As a close peers and allies of her brother, her doors and hospitality were open to you all. You didn't want to seem like the uncultured urchin you were, but even the entry hall surpassed any luxury you'd seen thus far. You had to suppress an instinctual flinch as her manservant stepped behind you to reach for your cloak. Or perhaps the lessons from the streets were written all over your wide eyes. You saw Johnny chew on a smile as Simon glared down at the man, massive arms crossing across his great oak chest.

'That'll do,' he growled. 'There are saddlebags to be seen to.'

The poor man scarpered with a stuttered, 'Of course, Your Grace.'

You stared after your Knight as he stomped up the stairs, heavy footfalls disturbing the frames of the Garrick ancestors across the walls. He looked back, silhouetted with a hand outstretched.

'C'mon then.'

His rough, warm hand enclosed yours and you followed him to exegesis.

Ensconced in your chambers - shared chambers, marriage chambers - you found your tongue.

'Should I be calling you 'Your Grace'?' Be meek, be sweet.

He snorted, inelegant against the filigree and flowers that bore witness to your unsettled feelings.

Be meek, be sweet. Be meek, be sweet. Be meek-

'I do not speak in jest, Simon. Sorry, 'Your Grace',' Your mouth twisted, trembling with the force of holding back. 'I asked you to take me with you, yes, and I have tried not to inconvenience you beyond…beyond the circumstances of our meeting. But I must demand, now. Tell me what is going on.'

He merely tilted his head, old grizzled dog on a velvet chaise. You could see his lips - what did they look like, what did they feel like? - move under the black of his kerchief.

'We're in a guest room, talkin'. Listenin' to you ask stupid questions.'

'If the question seems stupid it is because you have made it so!' You felt your stubby nails bite into your calloused palms. The feeling made you shake, brought tears to your eyes. Shame and fear turned saliva to acid. You flung your hands towards him. 'Look! You see these. These are not the hands of a girl addressed as 'Duchess'. If this is a joke, I ask you to stop it now. I am grateful to you, I will remain so always, but playing in this manner is lower than whatever my Father had-'

"Do not. Compare me. To that man.' His growl cut you from cutaneous to cartilage, exposing your raw, soft innards. You hoped he'd be kind. Even if he chewed on your heart, popping gristle between sharp canines, perhaps you'd be a part of him, dripping down his throat with an intimacy you longed to initiate.

Viper-quick, your hands were in his. Your lap was in his too. Too warm, too bulky, too close.

'Quit y'r squirmin'. Look at me, no. Look!' Your jaw was turned more gently than you expected from hands made for violence. You couldn't meet his eyes, but that mattered not as he brought your hand and his up to your sight. 'Look. My hands aren't delicate neither.'

You took a deep breath, feeling him pant underneath you, and reached to cup his hand in yours. Butterfly-soft, you turned it, watching candlelight catch on silver scars and pockmarks. Deep gouges and veins raised valleys between knuckles and wrist. One finger seemed slightly too short, like the top joint had been lost in some gruesome accident. When you looked at the palm, it was calloused. You had already felt its roughness, deep imprints from years of work. Of war. He flexed, closing his fingers around yours.

'I'm not 'of the blood'. I'm good at spillin' it, but the stuff inside me isn't worth much. Was a Squire. Then a Knight. Caught some eyes on the battlefield and was sent to defend the borders. Became a Margrave for it an' all. Now I'm a Duke. The titles don't mean much t'me, except I've got more coin and can tell nobles to fuck off without spending a day in the stocks.'

You're not sure whether your sigh was a laugh.

'Then, what? Please, Simon. What are we doing here?'

With your face this close to him you were reminded of the night in the tavern where you first met Johnny. You felt that you were sharing the same breath then. Now, here on his lap, you felt more. The warmth of his body that leeched through your skirts. The hard press of tough leather plackart. The pounding of his heartbeat - or was it yours - as you clutched his hand with trembling strength. That same trembling strength had you meeting his eyes at last, your position allowing you to be equal in height. His pupils dilated under scarred eyebrows, deep brown melting into pitch black.

'I took you wiv' me. It was sealed in blood. You're mine.'

You cupped his jaw, feeling stubble peek through his scarf. The sensation grounded you, kept you from flying off as his words used all the world's gravity.

'Bit of a terrible dowry, blood.' You whispered, a whisker away from his lips.

'I'm not made for anything else.'

Wrong, you thought as you pressed your parted lips to his covered ones. You were made for me.

His hand trailed up your arm as yours trailed across his jaw, two bodies with one mind. With deft, strong fingers you removed the last barrier between you. Black fluttered to the floor, still flesh-warm, and your lips met again. His lips were a little thin, but hungry. He groaned, supplicant to your taste, as you sought to press him closer. You could feel stubble tickling your chin, and the firm outline of another scar close to his cupid's bow. Lightning struck across the back of your neck, making you shudder against him. All you could taste, all you could smell, all you could feel was Simon.

And he all was yours.

After his face mask fell, so too did all barriers. You feel asleep together, entwined on the same bed. You awoke to his face made soft in the morning light. Sunbeams danced in the crevices of his scars, pale and rugged like the mountain you'd looked up at as a child. You watched, sentry, as you mapped the features of his face. Golden hair, golden stubble. A crooked nose that had been broken and set several times. Tributaries of scars running down to a strong jaw. And dark, unwavering eyes that creased a little as you met his gaze.

'G'mornin'.'

'Good morning,' You murmured, still sleep-soft. You traced along his lips, laughing as he nipped softly. 'Why do you cover this up?'

'To preserve my modesty,' he smirked as his tongue flicked out to soothe your nipped fingertips.

'Simon!'

'I'll tell ya. One day. When we get back 'ome. I don't trust everyone in this city.'

'You can trust me,' you whispered as you pressed your tingling digits into his mouth, catching on blunt teeth.

You felt the heat of his gaze bring blood to your cheeks. His eyes didn't leave yours as he bit down, softly. You knew the dog wouldn't bite.

'I know, Simon. I trust you too,' You leaned your forehead against his. 'Just, wherever you go, take me with you.'

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

Got a part ii drafted (palace intrigue, meet John and Gaz, Ghost and his mouse finally enjoy marital rites *wink*, conflict, etc., eventual HEA) but I'm not sure if there's an audience for it. And this is the first writing I've published in y e a r s since my cringe forays into dark videogame smut as a 19 y/o, so I'm not really confident. This is unedited/not proofread. Here ya go~

[stuckymonkey]

Thief

College Bucky Au

Pairing - college!bucky x fem!reader

Summary - When y/n finds herself stuck with a very annoying study buddy who cannot shut up about the quarterback, Bucky Barnes, she can't help but vent to a charming boy named James...

Warnings - use of y/n, reader is female, implications of smut?

Word count - 2k

a/n - my first time writing with this style and ship! also my first time writing on this blog :D I hope you enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

masterlist bucky masterlist

It's been two hours of trying to study for our physics quiz with some girl named Vic from my class. She couldn't shut up about how her date had been with the school's quarterback, Bucky Barnes. "I really think he's the one, you know?" she had said with heart eyes as she twirled her curly hair around her finger.

Vic's notes remained untouched. I nodded and hummed while copying down equations and formulas. She obviously didn't mind my disinterest, continuing to talk about how Bucky had complimented her necklace and the perfume she wore.

Checking the time on my phone, I gratefully noticed it was time for me to head back to my dorm with Nat and Carol. "I know he has a reputation as a bit of a player, but I swear I'm the exception. You should see the way he looks at me!" her jaw dropped as if she couldn't believe it herself. "Mhm, well it was really nice working with you but I have to get back to my dorm. Catch you later?" I asked while scurrying to gather my stuff. "Yeah, for sure!!"

I bolted out of the library and down the dark sidewalk to my dorm. I enjoyed the slight autumn breeze and rustle of the leaves as I walked down the sidewalk. Soon enough I saw the lights from our building come into view, walking faster to get into the warmth of our room. I burst into our dorm, wasting no time in talking about my night.

"Natasha, that was horrible. The entire time Vic talked about Bucky Barnes like he was a God," I started setting my stuff down on our island while I talked, "She went on and on about their date and how she's sure he's the one." I imitated in a high voice. "It was disgusting. Like I get he's the quarterback but how good can he seriously be?? Anyways, I at least got some notes done. How was your night?" That was when I noticed Natasha's boyfriend, Steve and one of his friends was sitting on our couch.

"Hi Steve." I waved. Steve was smirking at his friend. He went to introduce him but was quickly cut of by a "Hi, I'm James." He grinned and stuck his hand out for me to shake. "Sorry about your study session" he said with a smile. "It's no big deal. How's the game?" They were watching college football on our living room tv. "Good, it's just in the final quarter." his smile reached his eyes and crinkled them around the edges.

The rest of our night was spent watching football, eating snacks and drinking wine or beer. When the game ended and everyone started yawning, Steve and James decided to go. "Bye," Nat kissed Steve goodbye, before stepping back from the door with me and Carol. James waved with a boyish grin on his face before leaving with Steve.

The next day we were heading to a football game, one of the last before thanksgiving break. Being pre-med I didn't go to many games, and I couldn't help but wonder if I would see the infamous Bucky Barnes. Nat and Wanda led me to the change rooms to help Thor sort out his hair, something I would usually do for him prior to the game, but today he said it would be better to do it here since I was coming anyway.

Once in the changeroom I saw many familiar faces, Tony, Steve, Sam, Peter, Pietro and now James. I caught James' eye and waved. He waved back with that same attractive grin. I started braiding Thor's hair while everyone else got ready for the game. Soon it was time for me to find Natasha and Wanda so I could sit down and watch the game. Thor and the rest of the team bid me goodbye as I left.

"So, what do you think of James?" Wanda asked, earning an elbow to the side from Nat. I quirked my eyebrow at her actions, "He's nice, and cute." "She's blushing!" said Wanda. "I am not! I'm just wearing a lot of layers, it is fall you know." "There's Steve!" Nat called, pointing to the field as the players started to come out. "Does anybody know what number James is?" I asked innocently. Nat just shook her head.

After the game, we went back down to the changerooms so Nat could see her boyfriend and Wanda could see her brother. "Y/n! Your braid held up amazing today! Thank you!" Thor bellowed as soon as he noticed us. "You're welcome Thor! I'm glad it worked." I said with a laugh. I found myself alone as Nat and Wanda left, but not for long.

"So, I heard your study session went pretty bad. Want a different partner maybe?" I turned around to see James. "Are you offering to help me study physics James?" "Maybe I am doll," he smirked, "I promise not to brag about Bucky Barnes or any football players. Scout's honour." he said, holding up one of his hands in a very serious manner. I couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Well with a promise like that, you sure do make it hard to resist." I smiled. "It was that bad, huh?" he seemed closer than he was before. "Yes! The entire time she went on about Bucky and how amazing their date had gone. She said he was a known player but that he had a special spot for her or something. It was crazy. She even told me he was the one. Last time I checked, playboys don't have 'the one'" his smile seemed to dim at this. "Yeah, I guess you're right, doll." I loved that nickname. I felt butterflies everytime he said it. "Well, I'll give you my number, maybe you'll have better luck the second time around?" he offered. His confidence didn't seem as high as it was before. "Of course!" I said before handing him my phone and taking his. I put Y/n with a flower beside it before handing it back. He had put in his contact as 'James'.

A week later, James and I found ourselves in the library, notes open, with drinks and pens scattered everywhere. We had been talking daily in the days leading up to this and he seemed like a really sweet guy. He was raised by his single mother, Winnie, who he adored, he had a sister named Rebecca and he's been playing football with Steve since they were 11. They seemed like great friends, I couldn't help but wonder why I hadn't met him sooner.

Three hours in, our drinks were gone and my head felt all foggy. James was an incredible study partner. He chatted with me every now and then, always a welcome break from copying down notes. He was smart and helpful without being a nuisance like Vic. "Thank you," I said. He looked up at me with tired crystal blue eyes. "For being an amazing study partner." I smiled. He smiled softly, "I didn't talk too much?" "You did perfect. 10/10. We should definitely do this again." he grinned and let out a low laugh. "Alright then. I think it looks like you found a new study buddy." "That I did."

Me and James kept up our study sessions for weeks, and the habit of texting daily. We made frequent visits to a cute cafe on campus, usually spending an hour or more per week. During those hours we tended to do more talking than anything. My phone pinged with a notification,

James

Text me when you can. Not urgent, just need to talk.

That was weird. I went downstairs to talk to Wanda and Nat about it. "Have you guys noticed anything weird with James?" I asked. They shared a look that made me feel like they knew something I didn't. "Guys?" "Y/n, I think it's better if he tells you." Wanda said with a slight frown. What could have happened? Was he okay? I immediately opened my phone and told him to meet me at our cafe in ten minutes.

"Y/n?" he asked, seeing me at our usual table. I stood up once I saw him. He looked gorgeous, with a black coat, fresh jeans and a plain white tee. His hair looked a little messy, like he had just gotten up. "Are you keeping something from me? Are you okay?" "Y/n-" "No! If there's something wrong, I deserve to know James! I'm your friend, I know you don't have to tell me, but I care about you and-" "Y/N!" heads turned from other tables and the chatter died down for a moment after James had yelled. "Y/n, I am not sick, and I'm sorry for yelling. My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky Barnes." I looked at him wide eyed. I was shocked. He didn't seem like a playboy, or self obsessive. Or anything Vic had described. Except for charming.

"Okay." "That's it? I've been guilty about this for weeks y/n/n." "And you should be! You technically lied to me. Why didn't you just tell me J- Bucky?" He kept avoiding my gaze. "Because then you would know I was a player and self obsessed." He seemed shameful and his face lacked any trace of a smile, instead it had traces of guilt.

"You don't seem like a player or like that at all. I actually really like you." I'm sure I was blushing at this point, and his head shot up from where he was looking at his shoes. "Really?" "Really. You're sweet, you care about your team, friends and family, especially your mom and Rebecca. You would do anything for your family or your team. You're giving and caring and you technically pretended to be someone you aren't just so we could see where this goes." "You think this is going somewhere, doll?" he smirked. "Maybe." I shrugged.

Tentatively he spoke, breaking our silence. "Y/n, would you like to go out with me?" "Hm...." I pretended to think, making his eyes widen. "Yes!" a breath of relief escaped him, and he stepped forward to wrap me up un a hug. I felt him place kisses to my hairline before he pulled back and smiled as he looked into my eyes.

I would never get tired of this view or this feeling. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and his hair was still messy. Crystal blues peered down into my own eyes. Pure adoration covered his face. "Well Barnes, where to?" "What do you mean doll?" "Didn't you just ask me out?" I giggled. "You mean like you want to go right now?" "Why waste anymore time, Bucky?"

[babyleostuff]

Hi lovely I was reading your works and it's so good, serious genuinely everything is perfect I'm addicted💗I wanna request only if you have time obviously, a Jeonghan as your boyfriend pretty please💗 Thanks

thank you some much for your request love! hope you enjoy this and have a great day <3

JEONGHAN AS YOUR BOYFRIEND

genre | a lot of fluff

author’s note | if you want me to do this with any other member, let me know <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he is always so so gentle with you 

𓆩♡𓆪 in his eyes, you’re the most precious thing in the world 

𓆩♡𓆪 he loves to baby you and dote on you, because you’re so adorable to him

𓆩♡𓆪 he adores being domestic with you - doing the dishes, the laundry, cleaning your apartment and watching movies/ dramas when eating late dinner after work 

𓆩♡𓆪 it brings him so much peace and inner comfort, especially after a busy day with schedules or when he comes home from tour

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re like his little battery charger, he swears he gaines back his energy when he’s with you 

𓆩♡𓆪 a sucker for holding hands and quiet forms of affection (even if only your pinkies are linked, it’s enough for him)

𓆩♡𓆪 as long as you’re next to him, everything is alright 

𓆩♡𓆪 hugs and cuddling are a big part of your relationship as well

𓆩♡𓆪 after being away from you, he craves your touch and it’s almost as if it has some healing properties 

𓆩♡𓆪 but in reality the hugs and cuddling are so great, because of how much you love each other

𓆩♡𓆪 and it’s your silent way of taking care of each other 

𓆩♡𓆪 he always makes sure you know that you can count on him, no matter how busy he is - you’re his number one priority 

𓆩♡𓆪 when you’re sick or feeling unwell he is always there for you, ready to become a certificated nurse

𓆩♡𓆪 even when you tell him to leave you alone, as not to get him sick as well, he never leaves your side 

𓆩♡𓆪 and if he has to because of work, he always checks up on you, making you promise that you’ll text him if you get worse 

𓆩♡𓆪 he just feels so bummed seeing you feeling bad and it always brings his mood down, so he wants you to get healthy as soon as possible 

𓆩♡𓆪 going on late night walks are your favourite 

𓆩♡𓆪 the town is a lot more quiet than during the day and it brings a sense of comfort to both of you

𓆩♡𓆪 you don’t even need to talk much, you just walk around the neighbourhood holding hands and appreciating each others company 

𓆩♡𓆪 your whole relationship basically feels like a safety blanket, that you can hide under 

𓆩♡𓆪 he makes you feel safe and loved 24/7 

𓆩♡𓆪 if you ever point out a flaw in you or get insecure (which you should not, because you’re BEAUTIFUL) he just goes: “YAH 😒” and kisses you all over your face, telling you how beautiful and amazing you are 

𓆩♡𓆪 he does NOT let you feel bad about yourself, not even once 

𓆩♡𓆪 he teaches you his mastery of cheating, that you can use during game nights with the rest of the boys 

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re the unbeatable couple and even with the rest of the boys knowing that you’re probably cheating, they do nothing to stop you 

𓆩♡𓆪 they know that there is no point in doing so (because you’re going to find  another way to cheat their asses) 

𓆩♡𓆪 loves seeing you in his clothes, it makes him go 🥰 🥰 🥰 

𓆩♡𓆪 especially during autumn and winter, you’re just so cuddly and huggable that he cannot resist you and hugs you at least every 15 minutes

𓆩♡𓆪 which makes you go 🙄, but it’s okay because he’s pretty and you cannot resist him either  

𓆩♡𓆪 he also becomes quite sulky and pouty if you don’t pay enough attention to him

𓆩♡𓆪 like: hello, your boyfriend is in need of some extra attention (and some kisses too)

𓆩♡𓆪 despite his loving and caring nature, he teases you a lot 

𓆩♡𓆪 brings up random embarrassing situations from your past and laughs about it, making you go 😐 

𓆩♡𓆪 but he never crosses the line with the jokes and never makes you feel bad about yourself, it’s all just for fun and games 

𓆩♡𓆪 is committed to being the little spoon in your relationship and is not afraid of admitting it 

𓆩♡𓆪 you’re just so comfy and he feels so safe in your arms 

𓆩♡𓆪 but just one word from you and he becomes the big spoon

𓆩♡𓆪 anything for his baby 

𓆩♡𓆪 even if he’s not the most adventurous person on the planet, you’re never bored with him 

𓆩♡𓆪 every second spent together is precious to you and you cherish it dearly

your messages <3

[moonlightazriel]

Labour /// Eris X F!Reader

Summary: As an act of punishment, his father made sure that he would never have his mate, but even Beron cannot change what was meant to be.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of giving birth and domestic violence

Word Count: 2,7K

Notes: Slightly inspired by Labour from Paris Paloma!!

Main Masterlist

His hand felt heavy on her waist, his proximity made her feel like she couldn’t breathe, she kept looking down, with polite smiles here and there but never words, they didn’t care about what she had to say anyway. Aeryn laughed again, the sound made her flinch slightly, subtle enough for the others not to notice, but enough for his fingers to press deeper into the fabric of her gown.

She excused herself, walking away from her husband and the members of the Autumn Court council, she stopped by an empty balcony, trying to steady her breathing. She touched her round belly, wanting to sense the baby in there, the only thing that kept her sane, the only reason to keep going.

“You look breathtaking tonight!” His voice was soft, warm as the fire running in his veins, she closed her eyes, swallowing deeply, her heart skipped a beat when she turned around, the lights from the ballroom illuminated his hair, making it shine brighter, he was wearing gold, it suited him so well. His eyes scanned her fragile figure, landing on the fading bruise on her cheek, the one that not even makeup was able to hide properly.

“It’s nothing.” She whispered as soon as his fingers touched her chin, forcing her to look up, at those beautiful eyes. “Eris, please just forget it.” She begged, he didn’t say a thing, just looked at her, the face that he loved so much, that sparked with life every time she spoke, now gone, replaced by a paler and skinnier version, dark circles under her eyes and that damned purple bruise.

“I’ll kill him, I don’t care that he’s my brother.” He said, resting his forehead against her, their breaths synchronizing, hearts beating as one, as he held his mate in his arms, she was taken from him, another form of punishment and control from his father. “You can’t keep living like this.”

“I can if that means I will see you.” Her voice broke as tears gathered in her eyes, those stolen moments were the only things that she treasured more than the baby growing inside her.

“Y/N…..”

“I should get going, Aeryn doesn’t like when I disappear for too long.” It took every bit of strength left in her to leave him there, the bond inside her chest screamed for her to come back. She quietly stood by her husband’s side one more time, not daring to look for him again.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You know what’s funny dear wife?” Aeryn’s voice was close to her back as they entered their house. “It's that you think you’re so smart, pretending to be innocent and shit, but I can smell him on you, you dumb bitch.” His hand grabbed her hair, pulling harshly forcing her to look at him.

“Please Aeryn, think about the baby.” He laughed, the face of a demon looking back at her.

“Oh, I am..” He placed a hand on her belly and she swallowed dryly. “But Eris needs to understand that you’re mine despite what the Cauldron says.” He forced her upstairs, hand still tucked tightly in her hair and the other around her neck, squeezing until she couldn’t breathe, until he threw her limp body on the bed and left her there.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Beron smirked as his eyes landed on her neck and the visible handprints there the next day, as the family appeared for dinner.

“So, how’s the baby?” He asked directly to her, her throat was still sore and her voice was cracking when she spoke.

“Just fine, in a few days I will be able to know the gender.” Every word burned and stung, and he knew it. Eris clutched the fork in his hands tighter, his gaze fixed on her.

“I hope we get another strong boy, our lineage doesn’t need any more weakness.” The silence at the table was awful.

“I’m sure Aeryn will be happy either way, darling.” Lady Autumn said, her kind word comforting Y/N, who rested a hand protectively over her belly. “I saw your horses at the stable when we arrived, they look beautiful.” She kept going, changing the subject, Aeryn just started talking about his stallions, and everyone forgot Y/N for the rest of the night.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“It’s a girl.” The words sink deep in her guts, and her whole body started to shake in absolute panic, what he would do to her, to them? He made it very clear that he wanted a boy.

“You cannot tell this to anyone.” She held the healer's hand, the female looked Y/N in the eyes.

“But what if they ask?” Y/N’s breath was coming in short gasps as she feared for the tiny baby’s life.

“Lie, tell them it’s a boy, be convincible, I don’t know. But no one can know the truth.” The tears spilled from her eyes and the healer nodded, reassuring her that she would do everything to prevent them from knowing the truth.

She was still considering her options when the front door opened, Aeryn was sweaty and dirty from the hunting day, he didn’t even spare a glance in her direction before he ordered that she needed to prepare him a bath. Most of the time, he just treated her like a servant, so she got up and went to their bathroom to start preparing everything.

“What the healer said?” He asked as she rubbed a cloth on his back, she almost let it slip as she answered.

“A boy, she said it’s a boy.” He turned to her, a smile on his lips, the first genuine smile he ever gave her.

“I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me.” He kissed her belly and she shivered. “Just a few more weeks and I’ll be ready to meet my boy.” The happiness in his tone made her even more nervous, he would kill them both when the truth came out.

That night he made sure they had a good meal together, he held her in his arms as they lay down to sleep, kissing her hair and thanking her for making him the happiest male alive. When she woke up, she knew what she had to do.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Eris couldn’t focus on the papers, the distress he felt since yesterday still making him a little afraid for her, he knew that was coming from her end of the bond, stronger than ever before. He ran a hand through his hair, the small wooden cabin in the middle of the forest was silent, the only place no one knew it existed, his safe haven.

He got up, going to the kitchen to make some tea, the heavy rain fell outside when he heard a knock, someone was frantically knocking on his front door, only a crazy person would be walking around in the rain like this, he cursed under his breath, and opened the door, feeling his heart stop in his chest.

“Can I come in?” She smiled weakly, she was soaked and held a bag, behind her, a horse waited by the fence. He stepped to the side, allowing her in.

“How did you find me?”

“I just had to follow that pull in my chest.” He grabbed her bag and headed to the bathroom to run her a bath, she silently followed him, after he prepared the bath, he stepped outside, letting her take her time while he prepared something for her to eat. “It smells delicious.” Her hair was wet and she smelled like sweet herbs, a large sweater covered her 10 months belly.

“Then come eat.” He handed her a bowl with the warm stew, and she quickly started to eat. “What happened Y/N?” She slowly looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

“It’s a girl!” That’s all that she needed to say, Eris was immediately by her side, pulling her in for a hug, she sobbed in his chest, the muffled sounds making his heart break.

“I always wanted a niece. Don’t let them take that happiness from you, especially since you always wanted a daughter.” He said, kissing her forehead.

“What will Aeryn do once he finds out the truth?” Her red eyes met his.

“Nothing, he won’t do anything cuz I won’t allow it.” He waited for her to finish eating before he led them to the only bedroom there, he made sure she was comfortable before he headed to the door.

“Can you stay?” She whispered in the darkness and the bond in his chest sang with life, warming his entire body, so he turned around, letting himself lay with her in his arms, feeling the happiest he had been in years.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Your father asked him to go on a diplomatic mission, so I took the chance and ran away in the middle of the night.” She said, stuffing her mouth with more scrambled eggs, Eris smiled at the sight, the one he have been wishing for 3 years.

Beron immediately knew about their bond, making an offer to her parents to marry her off with Aeryn in a way to punish him for working with the night court at the war, they sold her like an object and were more than happy to do so. So for three years, he had been longing to be with his mate, dreaming of having her in his arms like last night.

“You should rest after, or that baby girl might come before she’s supposed to.” She looked at him.

“Iris.”

“What?”

“Her name’s Iris.” He smiled at her.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” He rested his hand on her belly and his forehead against hers.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Her legs suddenly got wet, and she rose from her spot in the gardens, discarding the book she was trying to focus on, she started to breathe more quickly as she walked inside.

“What’s wrong?” He was immediately by her side and helping her to walk inside.

“It’s time.” His heart started to race against his ribs, and he helped her sit on the couch.

“Can you wait a little bit while I get a healer?” She nodded, trying to focus on her breath while the pain in her body increased, Eris winnowed away, leaving her alone.

“Push.” The healer demanded, and Y/N did, feeling her whole body being crushed, her back was pressed against Eris’s chest, while he held her, one hand massaging her belly and the other she held in a bone-crushing grip.

“You’re doing great darling, just push one more time.” He encouraged her, she was covered in sweat, a yell ripped from her gritted teeth, and her hand held him even tighter, he felt the pain, but compared to hers, it was nothing. Two hours and the baby still hadn't come out, he was starting to get worried.

Y/N kept pushing, feeling all her strength vanish as she did, her whole body felt weak but Eris's presence, his warm body against her, and his encouraging words, this made her push again, it was like she was being ripped apart, but suddenly the pain stopped and all she could hear was the light crying, the healers worked on the baby and then handed her a tiny package, from in between the blankets she could see the amount of red hair, the baby looked at her.

“Hi, Iris.” She whispered, and Eris could feel his chest filling with love, her love and his own filled his heart, the baby looked at him, and he thanked the Mother that he was seated, or he would’ve fallen to his knees at that moment.

“She’s so beautiful.” He let a finger caress her little cheek and he could swear that Iris smiled at him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Two days later all they could do was stare at the baby, Eris didn’t leave her side for anything, always making sure all her needs were attended to. She was feeding Iris when he had to go back to court, Aeryn had discovered Y/N had disappeared and he was going crazy.

“Where is she?” Aeryn yelled, hands grabbing his shirt while he pressed Eris against a wall.

“How would I know? You’re the one not taking care of your wife.” Aeryn’s fist connected to his eye and Eris felt his blood boiling, he grabbed his brother’s shirt, pushing him away, the fabric burned where he had touched.

“I will get that bitch back, she’s carrying my son.” Eris scoffed.

“Good luck finding her, idiot.” He left, heading to his father’s office, just to find it empty. His heart started to beat rapidly and he immediately winnowed back, the cabin was empty, and the smell of his father and his guards was recent.

Eris was freaking out, he had winnowed back to every spot he knew she could’ve been held hostage, but it was in the throne room he found her, her whole body had bruises and her face was swollen, she was almost unrecognizable, Beron and Aeryn were there, smirking while he held his daughter.

"It takes a weak female to produce another one.” Beron said, pointing to the baby and Eris stepped forward.

“Leave them alone, please.” He begged and their smirks just grew wider.

“You’re a disappointment, I don’t want to see your fucking face around anymore, but you’re welcome to this traitor execution tomorrow.” Beron, rose a hand, dismissing him and ordering his guards to remove him, he was thrown in the mud by the front door of the Forest House, his mind was spiraling with ideas and he winnowed again.

The knife was on his throat before he even stepped out of the flames, Rhysand and Cassian looked at him, so it was the Shadowsinger that held the weapon against him.

“What do you want?” He said in his ear, and Eris breathed, the image of Y/N still fresh in his head.

“Help.” Rhysand signaled for Azriel to put the knife down and he did. “You need to kill him. Tonight.”

“We know we still have to fulfill our part of the deal, but we need to prepare, I can’t just send someone to kill him now.” Rhysand said and he turned to Azriel, the only one who understood what longing for a mate meant.

“ I need you to kill him, he will kill my mate, please Azriel, please.” He didn’t care he sounded pathetic, the fear of losing her was bigger than the fear he felt of his father. “He will kill her and I don’t know what to do, I’m desperate.” Azriel looked at him, the coldness was replaced by a sparkle of empathy and he looked behind Eris, waiting for approval.

“You wait here, we’re doing it tonight.” The shadowsinger said and Eris didn’t give a fuck, he threw his arms around the Illyrian, pulling him in for a tight hug, and his tears soaked the warrior’s clothes.

“Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome, High Lord.” Azriel said, gently pulling Eris away and disappearing through the shadows.

Rhysand’s inner circle listened patiently as he told their story, Morrigan held his hand the entire time, and by the end, he felt like he could really trust these people. He couldn’t sleep, waiting for Azriel’s return. He returned by the sunrise, her smell hitting him, he ran to the living room, where Azriel had just arrived with Y/N and Iris in her hands.

“You’re going to be okay, it’s over now.” Eris said as he held her closer, closing the distance between them, kissing her swollen lips with all the care in the world, her bruises were still very fresh.

“I love you.” She breathed and he felt his tears again.

“And I love you two so much. Thank you Azriel, I will be forever in debt to you.” The male just shook his head, leaving them alone.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The news of Baron’s death traveled fast, and those who knew or suspected that Eris was responsible for it, pretended they didn't, no one said a word, accomplices of an act of love.

“As the High Lord, you’re banished from the Autumn Court, if you’re seen in its territory once again, you will be executed.” His voice was commanding and powerful as he sentenced Aeryn, the male looked at him. “Consider this a kind gesture from your High Lady.” He said, leaving the cell his brother was being held.

Y/N was playing with Iris in their room, she looked at him, a smile on her lips, making her eyes shine brighter.

“Thank you for everything.” She said.

“I would do anything for my family.” He kissed her forehead and the baby in her arms, his family finally reunited as it was always meant to be.

[mncxbe]

Hiiii i hope you have a great day! I love your blog 🥰 been living my best y/n days lately hahaha

If you don't mind, may i request for chuuya with reader who is a photographer. One day the reader scouted him on the street, not knowing about him at all, just mesmerized by his appearance. So I'm wondering about how Chuuya would be someone's muse. Definitely got inspired by your chuuya x painter!reader one haha.

Thank you so much ^^

Ps: can be sfw or nswf up to your imagination; please feel free to ignore this request if you don't feel like doing it^^

omg anonnie this!!! chuuya's got such model vibes I cannot even he could make it to the high fashion. also tysm I'm so happy I can make your Y/N dreams come true♡♡

it's a normal thursday afternoon and chuuya's walking down the streets of Yokohama, idly scrolling on his phone when you randomly stop him and ask if he's interested in having a few pictures taken. at first, he's a bit confused and suspicious but after you tell him you're a photographer and really love his style, he agrees. after all, a few pictures can't hurt.

the two of you walk to a neraby park. getting everything in place; you tell him how to pose and all and soon enough you manage to take a few good shots.

when you show him the photos chuuya's quite taken aback. he didn't expect them to turn this good: his scarlet hair paired perfectly with the yellowing autumn leaves in the background and the warm sunlight~ engulfing him in a veil of gold. it is mesmerizing. he simply stares at the little screen of your camera, mouth agape and you can't help but chuckle.

"there's just something about you, a certain energy you give off. i'd love to work with you more, if you're interested" you propose, giving him that sweet smile of yours.

and of course he's interested. how could he say no when he has the chance to work with someone so talented?

over the next months chuuya visits your studio from time to time. due to his busy schedule, your photoshoots are quite rare but still the highlight of your week. you both enjoy working together; you are calm and collected, don't pry too much into his personal life and he's receptive, always eager to try any new ideas you might have, your perfect muse.

and oh, how many ideas you have. for those blissful couple of hours in your studio chuuya can forget about his life and become something else; a black and white 90s supermodel, a pop of colour on a white background, an angel in the garden of Eden, whatever you want him to be. with each outfit you make him try on he turns into something else, something of your making and he loves that.

despite your constant pleas he refuses to let you use his picture for exhibitions or contests; after all, his identity needs to be kept secret. so instead you hang them around your studio~ little 3:2 pictures adorning your walls, lined up like celluloid scenes in an old picture movie.

with each evening you spend together chuuya finds himself falling more and more in love with you. it's not only the way you walk around the studio with your camera hanging around hour neck, gently biting down on your lower lip as you try to find the perfect angle for a shoot or how you always offer him a glass of his favourite wine when he comes over; you're his own form of escapism. you're funny and sweet and creative and see him for everything that he is and could be, not as a mere criminal working for the Port Mafia. he can talk to you for hours without getting bored too, which is something new.

things progress and one evening, after an especially tiring day at work and a few glasses of wine, chuuya finds himself entangled with you on the plush couch in your studio; worshipping every inch of your body just like you do with his on camera. it's heated and messy and he loves it so much he just can't get enough. and neither can you.

from then on, you two meet for reasons unrelated to work too; he drops by to bring you little gifts or flowers as a sign of gratitude, takes you out to dinner, visits art galleries with you and takes you on weekend get-aways. and so your muse becomes your friend and your lover. your one and only.

[aghostiewitdahoodie]

⟣ Synopsis: A coming of age Simon Riley experiences what it is like to have feelings for someone.

⟣ Pairing: Pre-Military! Simon Riley x F! Reader

⟣ Warnings: None

⟣ This is my work, my writing. Do not steal or repost elsewhere.

Have you ever seen someone so graceful? You would wonder if you are gazing at an angel without her wings, ambling among us. Time would seem to slow down and everything…

Everything just becomes a blur.

You lose your senses and you cannot help but admire. Her doing the simplest things appear as an art so carefully crafted, leisurely thought of with love.

There I erected still at the pavement on a sunday morning. You would think the season is beautiful…

It is.

Yet incomparable to her.

No matter how sun kissed the trees are or the leaves gently descending in different hues, different routes…

Nothing could compare to the beauty of Y/N.

Y/N L/N.

Even her name is like a song, a melody and you just close your slits and dance and your heart…

Oh, your heart is fluttering with joy.

Though hearing her name makes me timid. Having her around makes me timid and I stutter on my words.

The things she makes me feel…

It feels wonderful and yet it scares me.

A fusion of red and blue she wears, a knee-length dress and a beret. That beret I saw yesterday as I passed by the high end street. A high end street where the best shops erect tall and proud.

Of course, she was the one to purchase it. Y/N deserves the best of all and the best of all appears plain when it comes with her.

Yet there I erected still, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. The clothes I wore the day before yesterday, covered in filth, covered in meaty bits, smeared with blood. I should have not worn the apron yet for she may consider me a sight to be disgusted at.

Yet there I erected still, admiring her. Not a care in the world, I could admire her for the rest of my days and not once get exhausted.

Platforms she wore and they rest flawlessly on the bicycle pedals as she travel in a usual speed yet time seems to slow down. The wind blowing her hair, everything just seems to be perfect with her.

I swear I could smell her scent when she passed me by. The aroma of hers is like a field where the prettiest flowers grow.

Does she even have a flaw?

Could someone as beautiful as her have a flaw?

Seriously. I have been wondering.

Yet there I erected still, my copper irises bore still.

How could my mind be tranquil?

How could I be civil?

When there she is, doing the simplest thing yet appear so beguiling.

Yet there I erected still until something collided with me. My vessel swiftly detected the pain and soon enough I tumble to the ground.

Despite the pain and the harm, what a sight to gaze at.

Above me is the angel I dream of.

Her eyebrows furrowed in concern and the stunning orbs of hers never gazed at me this way, not once in my life and her nose scrunches every now and then… Her lips plumped and pink, appearing as kissable as ever.

Despite my hand trembling in anxiousness, I reached for her face and there I rested my palm on her cheek. “I am alright.” She aided me to sit up, her hands so soft and gentle.

Although her hair is messy…

Did…

Did she rush towards me?

And her breathing is swift and heavy…

Y/N rushed towards me.

She cares about me?

She notices me?

Questions overflowing my mind and I just stared at her as she sanitize the wound on my arm. Her mouth muttering words yet romantic songs are all I could hear.

Y/N L/N is so concentrated in bandaging me, caring for me and in that moment…

I…

I dreamt a life with her.

I fantasized about her in the same dress and the same beret. She greeted me with an embrace as I came home from work. I could smell the freshly baked pie and the tea she prepared just for me. The fireplace has been lit and the season… the season is the same as now.

Autumn.

Yet still incomparable to her.

Can she perceive?

Perceive how much I gaze at her, how much I adore her?

If only she knows.

If only I could tell.

I could however…

What for?

When there goes John doing the simplest thing yet her orbs follow as he walks by.

Why confess what I feel when her orbs confess what she feels for John?

Just as my orbs confess how I feel for her.

I could only get to this point…

The point where I admire Y/N in autumn.

[fairy-verse]

: ̗̀➛ The Astonishing World Beyond the Veil

With the night cast in white and blue light the fairy of autumn and spring sprang up into the air, wings so fair they glittered and shone as they carried him up, up, and up. A split long-tailed fish with a moustache and a beard flew past with wings of pearly black, and it scattered as baubles of blue and green fluttered in the air like glowing insects.

But insects they are not, though not even Lumin has learned of what they are yet. Though he may see far more than other fairies, he’s yet to learn what it all is. A giant spider with round eyes and a frowning mouth hung from a cloud, but quickly it retreated as Lumin caught sight of it.

“Lumin.”

Ah, his soul’s song came near and Lumin turned to lock eyes with saddened periwinkle. No, not saddened, only downturned, but not sad. A dress of peach and pearls waved gently in the wind as wings of lovely pink fluttered silently, carrying the fairy who so long ago came to cradle Lumin’s restless soul within pale, clawed fingers. Wisps of silver white swam around Mimble as she approached, invisible to her eye, but as clear as night to Lumin.

“Mimble,” said Lumin, voice growing ever softer at the sight of his soul’s song. “You so rarely follow me when the night is cast in white and blue,” he added and came closer to trail gentle touches over freckled cheeks and full hips.

Mimble’s eyes closed for a moment, long enough for her freckles to shimmer and dance across her bones as Lumin caressed them. They stilled once Mimble returned to look at him again.

“Sleep evaded me after you left,” said Mimble, hands trailing feathery touches over Lumin’s arms, shoulders, neck, and chest before coming to rest by his narrow waist. “Will you travel again so soon? Must the clouds have you again already?” she asked, downturned eyes looking up at him in longing and love.

“Forgive me, my song,” said Lumin and leaned in to kiss her cheeks, her forehead, and her nasal ridge. “The seas above the clouds still call to me, urging me to find out more of their secrets. I wish I could show it to you, but I have not yet discovered how to reveal what now only my eyes can see.”

Mimble smiled, admiring yet silently grieved in its beauty. “The world beyond the veil?” asked she, voice a mere whisper as the wisps brushed across her cheeks and skull, ever unknown to her. “You speak of such fantastical worlds that not even fairies can see, and I wonder why they remain hidden from us.”

“Not hidden; forgotten,” said Lumin, and he rested his forehead against hers as his arms cradled around her, allowing her wings to falter and lay down as he held them both up, far, far into the glowing blue night skies. “Perhaps I am only to see what has been lost for so long, or…” he hummed a gentle laugh, “perhaps I am to reveal it to us. Fairies may have been in the world for a long time, but some things and places existed long before us, and I think they want us to see them, to know about them and to explore and revel in what beauties they hold.”

“It sounds so lovely,” said Mimble, eyes partly closed as she shared her warmth with Lumin. “I just wished they wouldn’t take you from me so oft. I am ever selfish in my want to have you by me, but I cannot help it, Lumin,” she added, and her smile was so mournful it moved even Lumin close to tears. “I yearn for nothing but your presence, my love. My soul sings in joy whenever you return home to me, yet I also feel that same delight whenever you speak of your adventures. Your happiness at what you see and hear… How can I not be fond of it? It is what you are, I know this, and yet I cannot help my longing,” said she, and she kissed him as gentle waves of clouds swayed and crashed like a great ocean above them, silver and blue in their nightly colours.

Lumin closed his eyes, shutting it out as all he wanted was to feel Mimble; his Mimble. The world beyond the veil could wait, for now.

[cecilebutcher]

ღLaufey songs I associate with twst boysღ

I’m back on my musical bullshit😎 just so we’re clear, this has zero thoughts, behind it o7 Enjoy!!

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: Every nrc student + some oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: like the movies

“Maybe I'm just old fashioned. Read too many fairytales. It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies.That's why I'll never fall in love”

Trey Clover: I wish you love

“And in July a lemonade. To cool you in some leafy glade. I wish you health. And more than wealth. My breaking heart and I agree. That you and I could never be. So with my best, my very best. I set you free”

Cater Diamond: someone new

“I have to get off Instagram. I keep on going back. Looking at our memories. I know that you will soon delete. We turn to strangers in a day. Now you walk away. Every time I catch your eye. When did you become so shy?”

Ace Trappola: Best friend

“I have never tolerated someone for so long. I've never laughed so much. I haven't written a sad song. There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with. And dream with. You're my best friend in the world”

Deuce Spade: just like Chet

“Why did you put me through. 11 months of "you're so pretty's, " "I miss you's"? It's absurd what even occurred between autumn and spring. If you never loved me. In a perfect world. I wouldn't have met you that night. Would've stayed with my friends. And just danced 'til the morning light”

Leona Kingscholar: Valentine

“I've rejected affection. For years and years. Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue”

Ruggie Bucchie: Promise

“It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you. I've done the math. There's no solution. We'll never last. Why can't I let go of this?”

Jack Howl: lucky for me

“When the sun goes away in the autumn. And the leaves trickle down from the trees. The heat of the summer's forgotten. You'll be here, so lucky for me. You don't tell me to shut up. Even when I talk too much you smile at me. Say, "Don't worry"”

Azul Ashengrotto: From the start

“Oh, the burning pain. Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah. Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day. Run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say”

Jade Leech: above the Chinese restaurant

“Street sounds blistered with neon lights. Heard the neighbors snoring every other night. Eating dumplings from next door. Finish 'em up they'd give us some more. Didn't realize we had it all. Even when the roof came caving in that fall. Oh, I loved you more than you know. Covered in the flakes of crystal white snow”

Floyd Leech: dancing with you tonight

“Silly boy, don't talk to me. I don't have the energy. Please don't ask to dance with me tonight. I do better on my own (on my own). I don't mean to come off cold (come off cold). But my dear, I'm all danced out tonight. Now the gin is hitting me. And it's almost half-past three. Am I crazy or seeing things? I'm sorry if I can't go for another swing”

Kalim Al-Asim: Magnolia

“A word from her lips, her sirens kiss. Will send you straight into abyss. Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away. Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun. To be like her someday. But I cannot compete with her. Perfection is the only word. I think of when I think of Magnolia. She doesn't know that the world is turning just for her”

Jamil Viper: Street by Street

“Step by step, brick by brick. I'm reclaiming what's mine. This city is way too small. To give away to just one guy. Street by street, breath by breath. From the Back Bay to the sky. I'm taking back my city. I'm Taking back my life. The cafe Where you asked me for my name. The bookstore we spent Five hours hiding from the rain”

Vil Shoenheit: beautiful stranger

“What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name. Maybe we would have exchanged a few words. A fairytale moment could have occurred. But my beautiful stranger will have to remain. A stranger until I see him again. See him again. Hmm, mmh.”

Rook Hunt: fragile

“The soft candle glow. The music so slow. Your skin on my skin. The room is spinning. Nerve in my bone. I'm shaking oh no. I'm talking though I shouldn't be. I've lost all sensibility. I've never been so fragile”

Epel Felmier: falling behind

“'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy. I'm only getting older. I've never had a shoulder to cry on. Someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind”

Idia Shroud:this is how it feels(ft. D4vd)

“This is how it feels. To fall in love with you. To always think of you. To always dream of you. Yes, it hurts so much. To fall in love with you. So if this is how it feels. Tell me if our love is real. There's some type of strange appeal. To the way it was so effortless, uh. I cannot help it”

Malleus Draconia: Bewitched

“You bewitched me. From the first time that you kissed me. Waited all night. Then we ran down the street in the late London light. The world froze around us, you kissed me good night. You bewitch me. Every damn second you're with me. I try to think straight. But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart. You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart. And bewitched me. Bewitched”

Lilia Vanrouge: night light

“Cardboard boxes covеring the floor. Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small. All of the laughter. All the sleepless nights. Waiting for ever after. Snow falling outside, keeping on the night light”

Silver (Vanrouge): let you break my heart again

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again. Some day, one day. I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do. I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again”

Sebek Zigvolt: dear soulmate

“Dear soulmate. Do you think of me? 'Cause I do. Do you have green eyes or are they brown like mine? Do you have a sister too? Dear soulmate. One day I'll give this song you. We will drive up to the mountains? Camp in a little tent? When the bears come at night. Will you put up a fight? Or will you hide with me in my flashlight?”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: questions for the universe

“Falling in love feels more like crashing. Stars spin around my head. So I'm asking. Will my worries ever melt away? Mm. Run out of sentences to say. Wish that I could put this into better words. Will I ever fall in love or will I always search?”

Tao Yúchi: second best

“I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt. I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell. That you walked a little faster, left me behind. Kissed me with somebody else in mind. I loved you so much. That I settled for less. Oh, you were my everything. I was your second best.”

Igor Kazentoc: serendipity

“I won't pretend I've been anxious. Just like I've always been. This time it's sticking. And time just stops ticking. When I have my arms around you. Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes. Coincidences and cosmic signs. Have proved that I am quite naive. I'm falling fast, filling gravity. And all that I see is serendipity”

Junto Shuisha: everything I know about love

“I wouldn't mind (ahh). I heard that falling fast is so divine. Are these songs just telling plain old lies? 'Cause that's everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). Everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). I don't know that much at all. I trip, I fall. Every time I try, it's all too much. That's everything I know about love”

Jasper Spade: slow down

“I wish it would slow down. Even for a second. I'm so old now. Left my adolescence. Going out to parties. And getting way too drunk. Think I found somebody. But don't think that it's love. I wish it would slow down. Slow down. Mhm, mhm. ”

Aikat Spanos: I’ve never been in love before

“I've never been in love before. I thought my heart was safe. I thought I knew the score. But this is why. It's all too strange and strong. I'm full of foolish song, and out my song must pour. So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've really never been in love before”

Phobes Spanos: what love will do to you

“Lately, I've been in a haze. Running late, can't think straight. The world feels smaller, yet the trees look taller. There's enchantment in the air. I know I sound stupid, I do. That's what love will do to you. Read my favorite book. For the hundredth time. At least I know of how it ends. In real life it just all depends”

Yes I know I placed valentine for my baby boy Sebek in the last post, but it fits Leona this time ok?

Anywho hope ya’ll enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this:D

Finally back to posting shit!! I have had this in my drafts for ages

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[dilute-flower]

Remember me

Warnings: smut if you blink, undetailed description of sex

A/N: Ayo, here's another old one of mine. This was my personal favorite of my own stories, mostly because of the end hahaha

The last sentense always makes me want to kick and scream into my pillow from the fluffness.

I started writing a few new ones and will post one soon. So stay tuned! 🖤

The accident happens when you are fifteen, on a stormy autumn night. That’s all you remember.

Your parents – and the healers – fill you in of course, on multiple occasions, but it’s all you remember. You don’t remember the curse hitting you, or the masked woman casting it at you. You don’t remember being rushed to St. Mugos or being in ICU for almost two weeks.

What you do remember is a healer telling your parents that you may suffer from short term memory loss. That it’s an uncommon curse that hit you that night and that with time, it will hopefully go away.

It doesn’t.

At first, it’s hard. At first, it’s just about everything. You don’t remember what you had for breakfast. Don’t remember how you got to class, or what the next one will be. Over time, though, you, your parents, and your healers come up with a few methods to help you remember certain things. Making lists helps the most, as does setting alarm clocks.

And the healers aren’t wrong. Your memory does get better over time, but it doesn’t go back to normal. And by the time you are seventeen, of age and finished with school, they’re pretty sure that it’s not going to get much better.

The thing about your memory is that you cannot choose what you do or do not forget. It’s not something that’s set in stone. There’s no equation to say who and what you will remember the next day and what you won’t. Sometimes they’re simple things like names. And sometimes, after meeting a person enough times, you eventually remember them. Sometimes you don’t. Sometimes on bad days, you forget the people you’ve known for months and then on good days, you remember them again, clear as day.

On bad days, you have difficulty remembering where you put your wand and must set an alarm clock to remind yourself to take your medication, to eat lunch. On bad days you sit outside on a bench, pounding angrily on your head, because you can’t remember where you are, how you got there and how the hell you’re supposed to get home.

Thankfully you have more good days than bad. Thankfully, you have a few friends that have been around since before the accident – once you can remember – and they help you through the rough days.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.

You meet Severus when you’re twenty-three. Or well, you’re pretty sure you do, anyway.

You start working at The Three Broomsticks, Rosmerta being your older sister, has no problem hiring you and you live together in the small flat above the pub. You find out right away, that bar tending is something that comes easy to you. Something that you can work with.

You make lists of all the whiskeys and beers available and tape them behind the counter just in case you forget. And after two years of working there, it’s very rare that you do. When a customer orders a drink, you make sure to either make it immediately, or write it down so you don’t forget. And while it’s challenging, especially on busy night, it helps. It helps to work somewhere fast-pasted. It helps to work somewhere where you to be on your toes.

You happen to meet Severus on a relatively busy night.

Saturdays are always busy, at least during the school year, and while you’re not the only barmaid working, you’re swamped. Thankfully, Rosmerta is back there with you, helping and reminding you if you forget something, which thankfully is few and far between. You’re having a good day. Saturdays are good days.

You’re in the middle of making a drink for a regular when a young, blonde man, as well as a couple of other people take the three open seats on the far end of your side of the counter.

"I'll be with you in a minute," You call, finishing up.

And then you forget.

Someone else in front of you orders a drink and you begin to make it before you glance to your left again.

Shit.

"Sorry about that," You say, once you finally make it to the far end of the counter, "What can I get you guys?"

The blonde orders for the three of them. And while it's something easy - just three Butterbeers - you scribble it down quickly on your notepad, just in case. As you walk away, you hear one of the three of them remark on it -

"She really needed to write that down?"

- and have to bite your tongue. While you’ve dealt with your fair share of bullying over the years because of your memory, you still have a hard time not saying anything back. You have a hard time not picking a fight with someone twice the size of you.

"They're not worth it," Rosmerta always tells you, as if you don't remember the million other times, she's said that to you. And while you know she's right - how are they supposed to know? - You still can't help the way it makes your blood boil.

You make the mistake of setting the notepad down after taking their order, mind too focused on ways to tell them off, and it takes you almost five minutes before you remember. Thankfully, they're still waiting, and you rush over with their drinks, without even so much as a "sorry" or any other kind of parting word. Rosmerta would be disappointed, but you don't care. They were rude.

As you turn to walk away, you hear another one of them grumble -

"Jesus. Took her long enough."

- and you’re about to turn on your heel, but a voice stops you.

"You can at least try not to be such a dunderhead and show some manners." The silky voice drawls angrily. You turn around to see a dark-haired, handsome man sitting next to them, fire whiskey in hand. You can’t remember serving him.

“P-Professor Snape, I –we…” The blond splutters.

“I can distinctly remember that I have taught you better.” He narrows his eyes at them before hissing, “Now pay for your drinks and leave before I forget myself.”

They do as they were told, and you internally thank the stranger.

At the end of the night, You and Rosmerta are closing when she chuckles softly to herself.

“What’s so funny?”

“Severus,” she says, holding a small piece of parchment up. You raise an eyebrow as in ‘who?’ and she explains. “The one that told of these jerks earlier. He’s a regular. You should recognize him by now.”

It takes a second for you, but eventually you remember. How could you forget about that uncomfortable encounter? “What about him?”

She hands you the parchment, allowing you to read it for yourself. “Seems like he likes you.” She remarks.

You sigh, snatching the paper from her hand and look down on it. And scrawled ot in a spidery handwriting is a small note, it reads, “Sorry about these jerks. I tried to teach them better.”

You snort and fold the parchment neatly to place it in your robes.

“A regular, you say. Is he a teacher at Hogwarts?”

“Yes. Severus Snape. I remember him from his school days. A nice bloke. But he never happened to have many friends and there were rumours he was a death eater…” She mutters.

A chill runs down your spine at the word death eater.

“But these rumours pretty much died after he started working at Hogwarts. No one truly believes Dumbledore would have hired a death eater.” She laughs and turns to look at you, smiling.

“He should be around your age, maybe a little bit older. He is pretty cute, isn’t he?”

“I don’t even remember what he looked like,” You respond, rolling your eyes.

“Really?” Rosmerta asks, suddenly feeling bad.

You can’t help the grin that stretches across your face at that.

“Oh, you asshole!” She yells, smacking you with her tea towel.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The next day you open the pub by yourself, and not even thirty minutes later, a tall handsome man with long black hair walks in and sits down.

You abandon the rag you use to wipe down one of the tables and take your place behind the counter, sans-notepad. “What can I get you?” You ask, leaning slightly against the countertop.

The man eyes you for a moment, as if expecting something else, before he clears his throat. “I, uh – Just a Butterbeer, thanks.”

You retrieve his drink for him, take his money and as you’re about to go back to cleaning you’re interrupted.

“I’m sorry again,” The man says, catching your attention and causing you to turn around, “About last night.”

You furrow your brows in confusion, racking your brain for something – anything –

What did he do last night

Before giving up.

“What happened last night?”

The man stares at you for a moment, mouth open, before he groans, “Oh Merlin, you don’t even remember. Now I’m just the asshole who’s reminding you.”

You can't help but smile slightly at his obvious discomfort. He seems nice – slightly grumpy and maybe a little stressed - but nice. And though he seems like he's in agony, apologizing for something that you don't even remember, you decide to milk it. He is pretty handsome, after all.

"Trust me," you joke, "I don't remember a lot of things."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.++..+.+.+.+.+.

The third time you see him, you remember his face, but not his name. It's on a Friday night, before the pub gets busy, and he's there alone. As usual, you assume.

You chat with him for a minute - just small talk - all while trying to force yourself to remember his name. You remember that smile, his cheekbones, and his dark eyes from the last time you saw him but not his name. Of all times for you to forget something...

You want to smack yourself, but thankfully, someone greets him with his last name and his first name hits you like a truck, repeating it in your head, over and over again -

Severus Snape. Severus Snape. Of course, it had to be a weird fucking name.

Rosmerta comes in to close that night, and when she walks behind the counter, she grins wide at you.

"Oh Merlin," You mutter, "What's that look for?"

"Nothing," she says as she passes you, but her grin doesn't fade. "Severus is here."

You role your eyes. "I'm aware of that."

"Just thought I'd remind you," She teases back. And when it earns another eye-roll from you, she adds, "He's checking you out."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.++.++.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

The fourth time that you see him, you still can't remember his name.

And the fourth time you see him, Severus asks you out.

"I-I just wanted to know if m-maybe you wanted to get coffee or something or-" he’s saying, all nervous, and stuttering, and while it's flattering and of course you want to say yes, all you can think of is the fact that you can't remember his name. That you don't even know how many times you talked to this guy now. You know it's a few, and you know that he is a teacher at Hogwarts but that's all you can remember, and eventually, you reach up, pinching the bridge of your nose and closing your eyes tight.

Severus seems to take that as his cue to stop talking, and your eyes immediately fly open.

"I'm sorry-" Severus stops, but you cut him off.

"I'm sorry," You insist, "But what's your name again?"

And while - for a split second, there's that tell-tale hint of worry in his eyes - he manages a smile, and says, "Severus."

"Severus," You repeat, remembering something your healer told you -

Repeating someone's name at least three times after you meet them helps you remember it.

- "I'd like that, yeah."

Severus’ eyes widen, as if your answer catches him off guard. "You-"

"Yeah, I'd like to get coffee with you," you confirm.

By the end of your shift you have set an alarm for two-o-clock on Tuesday -

Date with Severus. The handsome teacher from the pub.

- you note in your little notebook.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.

Severus is an absolute gentleman. And throughout the date, your previous suspicions of him being an intelligent, interesting man are confirmed. You’re happy and talkative and bright and he’s reserved but listens carefully to anything you say. And as you talk, you can't help the way that your eyes linger on his lips or hands or even his hair, as if trying to memorize him. 

And as you talk, sitting in a little corner of Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, you start dreading a certain part of your conversation more and more. You start dreading it because you really do like Severus. He's got a good sense of humour and an even better taste in literature and he wants to travel too and -

And you hate dates, because at some point, you have to decide if the person is someone you'd like to keep seeing. And at some point, you have to tell them about your memory. And sometime after that point, the person in question decides that they don't want to see you anymore.

After a couple of hours - long after your coffee has gone cold and you've run out of new things to talk about - you realize that you’ve reached that point.

You open your mouth to say something, but Severus speaks first.

"Look, I don't want this to come off as too forward," He starts, "And if you're not interested I’d understand completely. But I really would like to see you again. Outside of your work, obviously."

And your heart absolutely sinks.

You clear your throat, "I uh, I actually need to tell you something, first."

+.++.+.+.+.++.++.+.++.+.+..+.++.+.+.+.+.+.+

When you get home early that evening, you shut the door behind yourself and sink to the floor, head in his hands. Rosmerta is up from the couch within seconds, crouching down in front of you.

"(Y/N)?" She asks softly, "Is everything okay?"

You just groan in response.

"Did he-" She starts, but you cut her off.

"He's fucking perfect," You mutter through your hands, and at that, Rosemerta lets out a laugh.

"So, I take it the date went well?"

You nod against your hands, still hiding your face. "More than well."

"Okay..." She says, cocking her head to the side, "So what's with the little fit about?"

It's silent for a few beats while you compose yourself before you pull your hands away, muttering, "I don't want to fuck it up."

"(Y/N)," She groans, "You're not going to fuck it up."

"I might not, but this might," You reply, pointing at your head. And though Rosmerta doesn’t say anything in response, you know very well from experience that it’s a possibility. Even though Severus had seemed completely fine with it, even asking a few questions, wondering what he could do to make things easier for you, there’s still a possibility that your memory could ruin things. There’s always that possibility.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Thankfully your next two date fall on good days.

When Severus shows up at the flat, you answer the door with a smile, letting him in without missing a beat. And while you ask a few questions that you already asked on your first date, Severus doesn’t even mention it. He doesn’t even bat an eye. He just repeats his answers, as if it was the first time that you asked.

And when Severus brings you home after dinner – thankfully remembering the way to the flat when you draw a blank at first – he walks you to the door, fingers lingering on your arm for a few seconds.

"I had a great time," Severus says, and Merlin it's so cliché it hurts.

Even you catch it, smirking before asking, "So is this where we kiss or...?"

And with a small smile, Severus shrugs - "I guess so," - and leans down, hand soft on the side of your face, and places a quick kiss on your lips.

On your third date, you watch some movies and while you're sitting close on the couch, Severus’ hand resting easily on your leg, something hits you.

"We've kissed already, right?" You ask, turning to look up at him, and to your relief, the look on Severus’ face isn't of disappointment. It isn't a look that says "oh, Merlin she's already forgotten."

No, instead, it's a wide, endearing smile before he nods. "Yeah, we have."

You nod, vaguely remembering it. It had been cliché, outside of your flat door. "Refresh my memory?" You try, and at that, Severus actually laughs.

"How many times have you tried that line?" He asks, even as he leans in close.

You shrug and deadpan, "I don't remember."

And to your relief, Severus’ smile only widens. "Oh," He says, voice lowering as he tilts your chin up, just slightly, thumb running over your jaw, before sealing your lips with his.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.

Your fourth date ends in tangled limbs and out of breath gasps, and Severus pressing a wet kiss onto your temple as he rolls off you, sweaty and gross, but also still attractive as ever. you watch the way the muscles in his back move as he reaches over for his wand to cast a cleaning spell. You find yourself staring, eyes following the slope of the small of his back, down his cute butt...

Severus sighs happily, rolling over to face you again.

You mimic him, propping your head up on your elbow. You find your eyes mapping out Severus’ lean chest as well, down his neck, noting the way his collar bone juts out, just like his hipbones and -

"Eyes are up here," Severus teases softly, and you glance up, smiling.

"Sorry," You mutter, "Just storing it away."

And he flashes you a sly little grin, glancing at the clock over his shoulder. "We've got some time before your sister gets home," He says coyly, "If you want me to refresh your memory."

You chuckle, "You think I need it?"

He nods in response, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your lips. Then another. "Definitely," He murmurs in between pecks, "You know, just in case."

The morning after your fourth date, however, begins with you rolling over in your bed - expecting a big, empty space to your right, and finding another body lying peacefully next to you. Your eyes fly open, your hand coming up to cover your mouth before a scream could escape, and you immediately scoot backward so fast that you actually fall off of the bed with a loud thud.

"Fuck," You mutters, "Fuck, fuck-"

You rip one of the blankets off your bed when you realize that you’re completly naked on the floor and quickly wrap it around your chest, just as the man in your bed stirs, turning over.

"(Y/N)?" He asks, silky voice sleepy, “You alright?”

"Rosy!" You call, voice wavering, even as you make eye contact with him. And while he isn't bad looking - and while you are certain that he's in his bed for good reasons - you can't for the love of God remember who he is or how he got there or what happened last night, and that terrifies you. It always has. The worst days are the days that you can't remember the entire day before. The worst days are when you can't remember someone that you’ve met multiple times.

Your bad days have been the cause of many breakups, and though you don't know the context of the man in your bed, you already know that it's safe to assume that this episode - that you on the floor, on the verge of a panic attack - will more than likely scare him away, too, just like everyone else.

Thankfully, a half-awake Rosmerta bursts through the door, pausing for a moment when her eyes come to rest on the half-naked Severus in your bed, before making her way to you. You’re on the ground, clutching the blanket around your body and gasping for air, eyes wide, body trembling.

"Hey, hey," She murmurs, kneeling in front of you, holding onto your arms, "you’re alright, it's okay. Deep breaths. Can you do that? Take deep breaths for me."

"Is there anything I can do?" Severus asks quietly from the other end of the room, and without even looking up, Rosmerta replies.

"You can get dressed," She says, eyes still on you, "And get me a glass of water, please."

"Hey..." She breaths, catching your chin with her fingers when you start to breathe heavy again, gaze lingering on Severus for a second too long, "Look at me. You're alright, okay?"

You nod shakily, sucking in a few quick, deep breaths, "Okay."

"Do you remember anything?" She asks, he hands rubbing up and down your arms softly, soothingly.

You shake your head back and forth in a fast, jerky movement.

"Nothing?" She asks, just to be sure.

"No," you rasps, "I don't know who that is, I don't-"

"Shh, it's okay," She coos, "It's alright, you'll remember, just give it time, okay. This has happened before, remember?"

You nod shakily, "I know."

"So you'll be alright, just take deep breaths," She instructs. There's a rustling on the other side of the room and she glances up to where the dark-haired man stands in the doorway. He doesn't step foot in the room, though, for fear of overstepping some invisible line, and though you don't remember him, not yet, he can't help but like that.

He doesn't look hurt or angry, just concerned.

Rosmerta convinces you to take a hot shower -

"Maybe it'll clear your head."

- and while you’re certain that it won't help as much as she hopes it will, you do need a shower. You feel gross and sticky, and just the thought of why makes your head spin and your stomach feel sick.

While you’re in the shower, Rosmerta waits with Severus in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

"I can leave," he says quietly, looking down at his mug, "If I need to."

She eyes him carefully at that, as if she's heard those words before. And hell, she probably has. "Do you want to leave?" She asks at last. The question is laced with plenty of unspoken words, the most prominent being “If you leave now, don’t plan on coming back.”

And while Severus is quiet for a moment, he's certain when he answers with a soft, "No."

"Then you don't need to," She replies, shooting him a smile as she sits down across from him at the table. "If you have any questions, now is the time to ask."

Severus takes a deep breath. He knows that Rosmerta is used to this. She's used to seeing people that get freaked out by you and your memory and your episodes, but Severus isn't one of those people. He's not freaked out. Concerned, but not freaked out.

"Is she going to be alright?"

She smiles, "Oh yeah, she'll be fine. She bounces back pretty quick nowadays."

"And she'll-"

"Remember you?" Rosmerta supplies, seemingly reading his thoughts, "Yeah. I can't guarantee that she will today, but yes, she will."

Severus nods, and it's quiet for a moment before Rosmerta is speaking again.

"Snape."

"Hmm?" He looks up, and to his surprise, she looks incredibly serious, hands gripping her coffee mug tight.

"Are you serious about this?" She asks, eyes narrowed, "About her?"

The question catches him a little off guard and he stammers for a moment when he answers, "I uh - yeah. Yeah, I am."

She watches him for a few seconds, expression unchanging, as if trying to read him, and it hits him hard - though he had already suspected it - that this isn't the first time that you have been through this. That it's not the first time that she's been through watching people get scared off by her sister.

"I'm not going anywhere," He says, keeping eye contact as he speaks, "Unless she asks me to."

You don't ask him to.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.++.+.+.+.+.+.+.++.

Six months later you start writing the notes to yourself.

Severus is at your flat or the pub more often than not, and one evening he sits down next to you in the living room as you’re pulling a new composition notebook out of a bag and writing "Severus" on the front of it in big, black letters.

"What are you doing?" He asks, handing setting you coffee in front of you at the table.

"Making a list," you mutter, as if it's a no-brainer. You open the notebook up to a fresh page, but don't begin writing anything yet.

"A list about me?" Asks Severus, reaching out to thumb at the notebook.

You nod. "When uh... When I was recovering, the healers said that making lists and writing notes to yourself can help you remember things easier."

"So, you're making a list about me," he repeats, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yes," you reply in an exasperated voice, "And if you keep asking that, the first thing that's going in this list is 'Severus Snape is an annoying little shit.'"

Severus chuckles, "language -"

"Yep," You bite, scribbling something on the paper, "That's it. You asked for it."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.

Most days are good days. Most days, you remember Severus, especially after you've been together for over a year. Most days are good, but that doesn't mean that you don't have a bad day every once in a while. It doesn't mean that you don't have a lapse in memory every once in a while, blanking on the name of the attractive man sitting next to you on the couch.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Sev," he says, before you even have the chance to get the question out one night while you're watching some muggle movie. He rests a hand soft on your knee, sparing you a soft smile, "Severus Snape, to be exact." He's had to answer the question a small handful of times now, enough to know when it's coming.

And your mouth curls up into a small smile as well - of course, how could you forget Sev? - and you mutter out a quiet, "Nice to meet you, Sev," before he shushes you, earning a laugh from Rosmerta, where she sits on the other couch.

Most days are good days, but that doesn't stop you from waking up some mornings, in bed next to Severus, mind drawing a blank. Sometimes, you'll remember him - you know who he is - but you don't remember anything about him, and that's when your notes come in handy. On those mornings, you will climb out of bed quietly, tip-toeing across the room to your desk where you open a drawer and pull out the small, beat up composition notebook.

You always flip to the most recent page - those seem to jog your memory the best - and smile.

On one particular morning, you roll over, eyes blinking open slowly, and vision taking a moment to focus on the sleeping form next to you. You know it's Sev.  you've been dating for... A year now? Year and a half? You can't quite remember, but you also can't remember his favorite color right now either. Or where he lives.

Did he move in with you? Is he just staying the night?

Without hesitation, you roll sleepily out of bed, making your way over to your desk and flipping open the notebook. The most recent page is from the previous evening, and you smile as soon as you see it.

"You love Sev's hipbones. Seriously, you fucking love that shit. If he's sleeping right now - which he probably is - look over there. I can guarantee that you'll be able to see them. Now tell me you don't want to fucking kiss them. I'm right, aren't I?"

You snort at your own note, but still glance across the room toward Sev's sleeping form. Sure enough, the blanket over him is high enough to cover his groin, but low enough to expose his lean hips, and you can't help but agree with your note. You did write it, after all.

You flip to the page before it, just for something else to read.

"You love him. And in case you're wondering who I'm talking about, he's the tall, handsome, grumpy looking guy that you're probably freaking out about being in your bed right now. It's okay, you want him there. Just go get back in bed and cuddle up next to him. You love the way he clings onto you when he's asleep, even if it does suffocate you a little sometimes. Go give him a big kiss for me or something."

And while your brain is still struggling to catch up - are Sev's eyes black or brown? – you stand up, stretching, and returns to bed.

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.++.+.+.+.+.+.+.+…+.+

After one great night in particular, almost two years after you start dating, you get home late and the first thing you do is go straight to your room and pull out the notebook, before you forget.

"Severus asked you to move in with him to his chambers in the castle today " You write, unable to hide the smile.

“And I know this isn't really a journal or a diary, so to speak, but I needed to write this down for you, just in case. Because you're not allowed to forget this one. You've been dating for almost two years, now, by the way. So congratulations.

Seriously, though, Sev is the best thing that's ever happened to you. He's sweet and caring and has stuck with your sorry ass for this long. He lets you joke about your memory and doesn’t get mad and kisses your head like it'll make you get better, and sometimes you believe him. It does help.

So, needless to say, you're moving in with him as soon as possible. Rosy will be upset, but she'll be happy. She loves him too.

Now, if you're freaking out and reading this some morning or whatever and have no idea where you are or who he is, it's okay. You're home, and you love him. Now go kiss him for me."

+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+.+

Most days are good days. Most days, you have something good - or something funny or something embarrassing - to write in the notebook. And after over two years of mostly good days, you have to buy a second one.

Some days are bad, though. Those are the days that you wish you could erase from your memory forever. You wish you could forget the way that you just lost it one night, while in bed with Sev, hips arching up, up, up, when suddenly, you couldn't remember anything. When suddenly, you just drew a blank. When you didn’t recognize the face of the man above you, saying your name in soft, breathy moans, leaning down to press a kiss to your neck.

Rosy wasn't there that night, and you had been hysterical, but Severus had been there, calm and cool and collected as ever, helping you calm down, just as Rosmerta had taught him. He stays with you, even when you scream at him to get out, and he shows you the notebook, promising you that you'll remember again soon.

Most days are good days, though, and you are eternally grateful for that. It seems that every day you're together, it becomes easier for you to remember, to retain information. Every day that you're together, it's easier for you to wake up in the morning, roll over on your side and place a soft kiss on lips of the man lying in bed with you.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," you murmur one evening, limbs tangled with Sev's underneath thin sheets. Your fingers trace up and down his back, dipping down into his lower back then moving back up to his shoulders.

He smiles, "Probably be significantly less confused some mornings."

You groan in response, closing your eyes. "I was trying to be cute, you know," You mutter, rolling over onto your back, untangling your legs from Sev’s.

He rolls over as well until he's half on top of you again and kisses you quickly a couple of times. "Sorry," He mutters, grinning.

"You better be," You tease, "Don't make me write another embarrassing note about you."

Most days are good days. Most days are easy, comfortable, full of love.

Some days are bad, though, and that's inevitable. Thankfully, you have certain pages bookmarked for those days. Simple pages that read something along the lines of:

"You love him. Trust me."

Or,

"Severus Snape is an annoying little shit."

Or your personal favourite, a page you add a little more than five years after you start dating.

"His name is Severus Snape. You love him and you're marrying him today."

[feyhunter78]

Among the Sun Ch 10

Description: You wake from your wild night and find Sera has the information you need.

Ch 11

You wake up in your bed, alone. You know that this is not uncommon, but for a moment it stings. Your head is heavy, foggy, your strength sapped, and your robe sticking to your skin uncomfortably. Had you fallen asleep straight out of the bath? All you wish to do is sleep, to ponder on the strangeness of your attire at a later time, but Sera, who seems to be the head of your servants, bustles in a bright smile on her face.

“Good morning, My Lady, I trust you had an eventful night?” Her voice is silvery, her hair a tumbling waterfall of auburn like the turning leaves of autumn, her eyes filled with warmth. She’s older than you, perhaps by six or seven years, and she moves with the practiced ease of a lady who’s aware of her irreplaceability.

“I—I do not know; my mind is quite clouded.” You tell her, sliding from the bed and into your bathroom, intent on changing into a clean nightshift.

The sight of your neck, the tops of your breasts, and the curves of your hips in the mirror is enough to make you scream, and Sera bursts in, panic clear in her eyes.

“My Lady, are you hur—” She trails off, biting back a smile. “I see His Grace is quite fond of marking his territory.”

You’re covered in reddened marks, large handprints on your hips, bite marks on your breasts, neck, and shoulders. You look as though you’ve been attacked.

“I do not understand, I…” Then it all comes back to you, torrid flashes, an eruption of sensations dancing across your bare skin, the sound of Miguel’s voice as he panted your name.

Sera comes up and places a fresh robe over your shoulders. “It’s normal for your memories to return slowly, the roses play tricks on your mind, but soon all will be well.” Her voice falters for a moment, a spark of grief flashes in her meadow-hued eyes.

“The roses?” You ask, wrapping the robe tightly around yourself and turning to face her.

“Yes, you have been chosen by the emperor, it is tradition.” Her words are steady, but her hands shake slightly as she guides you to the vanity and begins to brush your hair.

You attempt to meet her eyes in the mirror, but she avoids your gaze. “Tradition? I was not informed of any tradition, what is this tradition?”

Sera continues to brush your hair carefully, starting from the ends and working her way up to your roots. “It’s old, but Emperor Tyler was quite fond of it. The addition of aphrodisiacs to a maiden’s bathwater has been done for centuries, always by a member of the emperor’s staff. I would not say it is my favorite of our empire’s traditions…I quite enjoy the Hallow’s Eve festivals, much more enjoyable for all involved.”

“Did Mig—His Grace know of this tradition?” You ask, a curl of dread forming in your chest, wrapping itself around your heart and squeezing.

Sera froze, lowering her voice to a whisper. “He was aware of his father’s proclivities, but he did not seem to condone them. But then the roses were in your bathwater when I arrived, My Lady, so I assumed it was the emperor’s orders.”

“I see.” You cannot force your mind to quiet, a war raging within you. Do you feel violated? Should you feel violated? Logic dictates yes, your actions were not born of free will, but you cannot say that you did not derive…pleasure from the actions. It was foreign and exciting, his words and dexterous hands bringing you to heights previously unexplored but secretly desired.

She bites her lip then finally meets your gaze. “I do believe he was unaware; I saw his sword being cleaned of blood early this morning, and one of his servants has gone missing.”

The dread lessens its grip on the fragile and wildly beating thing in your chest.

A knock on the door startles you both.

“Help me cover these ghastly marks, then I shall attend to my visitor.” You tell her, lifting your hair so that she can begin her work.

Miguel enters once Sera has gone. He stands before you, repentant. His arms behind his back, face solemn, his voice steady and detached. “I beg your pardon, Princess; I was caught unaware.”

You blink at him. “Unaware?”

He nods stiffly. “There was a tradition amongst the men of my family, a horrid one.”

Even with the knowledge Sera imparted onto you moments earlier, you still barely restrain your flinch at his words. A horrid one? Did he find you horrid?

“Horrid as it robs the participants of choice. The addition of aphrodisiacs to a maiden’s bathwater is appalling. I do not wish to follow in my father’s footsteps of coercing women into my bed, and I nearly failed this night prior. I apologize.” He bows his head, genuine remorse coloring his words.

“I—” You’re unsure of what to say. Still quite dizzy and dazed from the storm of sensations he rained down upon you, clashing with the logical part of your mind that screams you must remember the danger you are in, that he himself is.

“I do not need a response in this moment, I merely wished to apologize for my lack of foresight and inability to restrain myself.” He raises his head, and you’re taken aback by the mournful look in his eyes.

“I see…” You say, your mind a jumbled mess of emotions, sensations, and memories.

“And if I may be so bold, I do not wish for you to believe that I found you or your actions horrid. I found them quite maddening.” His voice drops to a whisper, but it still echoes off the walls of your chamber.

His words from the night before break through and enter the clarity of your memory.

My empress, y/n, y/n, y/n, drive me to madness, you sullen temptress, I am yours, yours.

He had taken himself in hand to the very thought of you, or was it simply the aphrodisiacs? How did they work? Did there need to be latent desire, or was it simply the last person that entered your mind? If it was the latter, then why would he not have pleasured himself to the thought of Ava? And if it was the former, then did that expose your own twisted desires to him?

“You have a tail.” Is all that falls dumbly from your lips, unable to think of anything else to say, the resurfacing memories clouding your judgment.

Miguel’s solemn expression deepens into a frown, and he shifts his weight anxiously. “I do, and my deepest apologies if I frightened you with it. I am aware that many find my additional features to be unpleasant.”

A stab of guilt goes through your heart. “No, no, that is not what I meant, I was merely surprised.”

He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side, his aforementioned tail slowly sweeping back and forth above the ground. “Surprised?”

“I was unaware that one could have such mastery over an appendage.” You say, scrambling and inadvertently landing on a subject that clearly strokes Miguel’s ego.

He takes a step forward, then another, till he is mere inches from you, his tail curling around your ankle. “Mastery, you say? I’m flattered.”

You swallow hard, feeling the heat radiating from his body, the marks on your neck, poorly covered by cosmetics, seem to thrum in time with your heartbeat as his grip on your ankle tightens. “I find your act of kidnapping me much more unpleasant than your appendages.”

A smirk crawls across his face as his tail sneaks up your leg. “So, you do derive some semblance of pleasure from my appendages. Perhaps my apology is not needed?”

A rage burns within you. Was he simply toying with you? Attempting to make that Ava woman jealous? Truly all men were the same, they could never separate from the sins of their fathers, and you were a fool to think otherwise.

You jerk back, putting the table between you and him, forcing Miguel’s tail to unfurl quickly from around your leg. “It is needed. You put me in a horrid situation, and now you come with a false apology followed by an attempt at groping me.”

His smirk disappears, and he rests his hands flat on the tabletop. “Y/N I—”

“And all while you are having dalliances with the mother of your child where anyone could stumble upon you.”

He stiffens. “That which you saw is not what it seemed.”

“I am not a fool, Your Grace, I could see quite clearly that she had a rather tight hold on you.” Your words are dripping with venom, a lethal dose, one that surprises you.

Miguel was not yours; he did not owe you his loyalty, you were a captive, not a bride.

“I did not wish it. I could not resist—the aphrodisiac, it clouded my mind, rendered me helpless.”

War rages once more in your heart. If his words are true, you feel sympathy for him, but if he’s lying…

“I will not be humiliated in such a way; I will have the truth. Now.” You demand, throwing aside any notion of captive versus bride. Miguel will answer, or he will end your life, either outcome feels preferable to repeatedly being made a fool.

Miguel slumps into a nearby chair. “I have a daughter newly four years of age, her mother, Ava, fled with another man mere weeks after she was born.”

“Go on.” You say, attempting to sound unwavering, while your heart aches for his daughter.

“She despised how Gabriella inherited my features, called her a monster, that she never wished to lay eyes upon her again.”

You make a small sound of sympathy.

Miguel traces the embroidered patterns of the tablecloth. “She would return with her husband when his caravan brought him here for trade. Then she would come into the palace, and attempt to seduce me, I rebuffed her advances each time but last night…I could not. Not with the aphrodisiacs playing havoc on my mind.”

“I see.” Two little words that fall from your lips and scatter about the room, searching for space to breathe. You do not see; you do not understand.

“She is a vile woman; I do not desire her. You must believe me.”

You wish to ask the question that has been lingering on your tongue since he pulled you across his rug and set you aflame. How is it that you were able to push her away but not me?

But you’re too afraid of the answer, so instead you nod. “I will accept that our circumstances were skewed, that our minds were not our own, if you agree to pretend last night never happened.”

TL: @not-aya, @belos-simp69, @deputy-videogamer, @sxnasbitch, @maxi-ride, @minimari415, @syndrlla97, @gejo333, @lady-necromancer, @zeyzeys-stuff, @tayleighuh, @loser-alert, @envyjmoney, @allysunny, @princessloveweird, @freehentai, @xlittlebubx-blog, @berry-potchy, @drefear, @jkthinkstoomuch, @ihateuguys, @yuuotosaka3, @queenofroses22, @ray-rook, @lollipopin, @faexsins, @drefear

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Hey, dear! could i get an extremely fluffy picture/oneshot Daemon x pregnant!poc reader where ever since they found out about reader's pregnancy he has been super protective, loving and an excellent husband with her and the unborn baby so one afternoon they're spending quality time together (maybe she's reading to him) while he caresses her belly and the baby kicks for the first time, please?

Here you go.

The soon-to-be father

Pairing: Daemon x Fem. Reader (From the Summer Isles)

Themes : Soft | Fluff

Warnings : None

Word Count : 1.3k words

Want to be tagged? Want to know the reader request rules? Read all   here

It was the height of autumn.

The leaves turned red, dusk crept in faster, and there was a growing nip in the air.

The dragons had taken to gorging on anything and everything the dragon keepers offered them, as if preparing for the lean winter years. It would not be long, they said, before the dragons retreated under the pits to sleep away the winter.

Even here, in the Red Keep, life grew slower, with the rooms and corridors growing darker. Torches were lit everywhere, and fires were blazing to provide the warmth and light that the sun couldn't. Despite everyone’s efforts, the cold still crept in through tiny cracks and crevices, as if the season was determined to have the last word.

Today, however, was tolerably pleasant, although you debated if "tolerably" was the right word. As a lady of the Summer Isles, you were accustomed to warmer weather and sunnier skies. Still, this was the place your husband called home, and you were determined to love it.

No, you tell yourself. This isn’t just your husband’s home. This is the place your unborn child will call home soon enough.

Your hand fluttered to your growing belly. Two more months, the Grand Maester said. Two more months, and everyone will know if it is a son or a daughter.

Your husband didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl. He was just eager to be a father. A father who was driving everyone to distraction with his plans for the nursery, the midwives, even going so far as to insist on being present for the birth. Not that you minded. You were just happy to indulge his whims, often shaking your head and grinning whenever he went overboard, something he did frequently and without shame.

A pelt being draped over your shoulders brought you out of your daydreaming.  "You’re shivering." Daemon had walked in, silent as always. "Come sit by the fire, you’ll be warmer."

You studied him, discreetly, as he went over to the hearth to add more logs to the fire. Daemon was much calmer now, a far cry from the bundle of brash energy he was when the two of you wed. He also looked a little surly this afternoon. "What happened at the council meeting?" you asked, as you made yourself comfortable on a large sofa. Daemon finished his task and took his usual place next to you, picking up a book as he did so. He threw an arm around you and sighed.

"The pissant everyone is determined to make king has been visiting fighting pits every night for weeks now." Daemon rubbed his eyes, wondering how his brother managed to sire one such as his oldest nephew. Perhaps it was a punishment from the Gods for what had been done to the late queen Aemma, he reasoned, though he'd never say it aloud.

"Fighting pits?" You inquired, your gaze drawn to the book in his hands. It was dubbed, The Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Like your boxing?"

Daemon sighed and shook his head, his mood darkening. "I wish it was the case. We all do. No, my sweet, this is nothing like that, where there are judges and rules and where the opponents are grown men.

"But I’d rather not talk of that." He continued after a moment’s pause. "I just want you to promise me that you’ll come to me if Aegon comes anywhere near you."

You'd heard the rumors about the prince; everyone had. But hearing something that was passed off as mere gossip confirmed as true was a frightening prospect. "It cannot be that bad…." You say in disbelief. "I mean…. Aegon is a prince… He’s Viserys’ son, surely he…"

"Aegon is nothing like his father, so promise me," insisted Daemon. "Promise me you’ll come to me. Aegon is nothing like the sweet princeling he pretends to be. He’s far more dangerous than you think."

You swallowed as the gravity of the situation started to sink in. Daemon had moved with and fought alongside some of the most dangerous men in the kingdom. And if he thought Aegon was that bad, then—

"I will come to you if Aegon approaches me," you promised.

"Good," Daemon was pleased. "And how have you been? How is our child?"

"A little uncomfortable now that the baby is getting bigger, but I’m good. And the baby is healthy," you said indulgently, rubbing your belly. "And growing strong. The Grand Maester is very happy with everything. He said two more months before the baby is due to make their grand appearance."

Daemon placed a hand over yours, his joy matching yours. "That’s good. I told Viserys I’m not going anywhere till after out child arrives. He agreed."

"And I’ve had word from my mother," you picked up a letter on the side table and hand it to him. "She’ll be here before the birth. She also said four of my father’s finest warriors will be coming with her, and that they’ll be staying here as my sworn protectors. It’s rather odd, since I never asked for such a thing."

You tilted your head to one side when Daemon went red in the cheeks. "Husband," you said in amusement. "What did you do?"

Daemon groaned and mumbled something under his breath.

"Husband," you snickered. "What. Did. You. Do."

In one quick breath, Daemon  finally mumbled: "Imayhavebadgeredyourfatherintosendindwarriorsforyou."

"I’m sorry, but what?"

Daemon groaned again, speaking more clearly this time. "I- may have - badgered your father into sending warriors for you."

You just chuckled and buried your face in your hands. "Oh Daemon. It’s not necessary, my love, really."

"Not necessary?" Daemon stammered in shock. "My dear wife, did you not just listen to a word I said about Aegon? And have you not heard of that brother of his?"

And there he goes, being the protective husband. You couldn't fault the man because your own lord father was exactly like him. It honestly made you love him even more. "I heard you. And yes, I have heard the stories about Prince Aemond. Alright. Father’s warriors can stay."

"Thank you," said a relieved Daemon. "Now, enough of dark topics. How about something light?"

"Like this book?" You hold up the Songs of the Seven Kingdoms. "Perhaps I could read it?"

Daemon picked out a story, about the North and the children of the forest. He was content to let you read, his hand still over your belly.

The afternoon drifted on, with nothing but you reading stories out loud and Daemon rubbing your stomach whenever you grew uncomfortable. He became aware of something beneath his palm. Muscles rippled as something moved. "What’s that?"

There it was again, and this time you too felt it. "That, my love, is our baby." You put the book down, placed your hand over his. Sure enough, there was another ripple. "Kicking at my insides again."

Daemon grinned. "A child of true Targaryen and Summer Isle stock then,"  he said it so gleefully, you forgot your discomfort in an instance. "I wonder if they would be the one to bond with Grey Ghost."

You gave him a double-take. A wild dragon? Your child wasn't going anywhere near a wild dragon. "Grey Ghost? No."

Daemon’s eyes glinted mischievously. "Sheepstealer then?"

"Not on your life!"

He tsked and thought about it again. "I know! The Cannibal!"

"No!" You grinned. Daemon was only teasing you, after all. "My love, can we please stick to the practice of placing a dragon’s egg in the babe’s cradle?"

"Spoil-sport," he said cheerfully. "Alright, my love. An egg in the cradle it is."

"Thank you." You allowed Daemon to take the book. He then spent the rest of the afternoon reading to you and the child in your womb.