#do not be afraid to tell me if I should continue or just stop writing LMAO

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

warnings: sexual themes, misogyny, dominance, alcohol, very lowkey hint to past abuse.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: you managed to escape the castle and went looking for Sihtric, but how careful were you?

word count: 5,2k

[part I] [part III]

Part II: The Truth.

You found out it was not hard to escape the castle. Many knew you by name, but not by face. You grabbed one of the servants' cloaks to cover your dress, which was too fancy and would most likely draw attention, and you lowered the hood to hide your face. You snuck out through the kitchen's backdoor, carrying a basket of apples to not look suspicious incase anyone would see you.

Outside, you became nervous. You remembered how earlier that day you had seen Sihtric again, as you had been staring out of the window. Just like the day before. He saw you as he rode his horse back to the stable. He made sure you could see him all too well as he got off his horse. You kept watching him and you blushed each time Sihtric looked your way, which he did a lot. He seemed to enjoy the reaction he got out of you, so he sat down and decided to sharpen his knife while facing you. He simply drove you crazy. And unable to really communicate, all you could do was exchange looks, smiles and smirks. Before he left, after Finan had called him, he smiled and winked at you. The thought of that wink made your body tremble again.

You dropped the basket of apples, took a deep breath and quietly made your way to the alehouse. You kept looking if you weren't followed, and stopped in front of the alehouse. You smelled the ale and felt the heat coming out through the entrance. Suddenly you felt this might have been a bad idea, but before you knew it, your legs carried you inside. You kept your head low as you slipped through the crowd. It was warm, noisy, and drunk men bumped into you. As you tried to make your way to an empty table, one drunk spilled his ale on your cloak. You cursed. But at least now you definitely didn't look like a princess. Once you finally sat down, your eyes started to scan the crowd, looking for the Dane. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but it must have been a while, as the spilled ale on your cloak had dried already. But you hadn't seen Sihtric anywhere yet. You started to realise this was indeed a bad idea. You saw many men with wives or whores in their lap, and some men had both. The possibility of finding Sihtric with a lady in his lap was not something you were prepared for. You decided to leave, but as you stood up you suddenly saw him. You stopped breathing for a moment. He was only several tables away from you, accompanied by Finan and a young man, who you hadn't seen before, but looked very out of place. There was no woman with Sihtric, but Finan was talking to several, while pointing at the young man. You saw a woman walk over, and she sat down in the young man's lap. The poor bastard shrieked, and Sihtric threw his head back as he laughed out loud. Sihtric slapped the young man's shoulder and squeezed it, before he looked away from them and immediately locked eyes with you. He squinted his eyes slightly as he saw you. You froze. He then gave you a mischievous smirk and took a sip from his ale. You quickly looked away, pulled your hood down further, and you made your way out of the alehouse as fast as you could. 

You cursed yourself as you stepped outside. You had no idea who he really was, and yet you came alone to the alehouse. You, a princess of all things. And you suddenly feared that if he'd find out who you were, he would most definitely take you hostage and demand silver for your release. Or worse, he could just kill you. Or hump you, and then kill you. Afterall, the priest said he was a brute. And since he was a Dane, this behaviour was expected. You shuddered and quickly walked the empty road back to the castle. You had reached the stables when suddenly a low, male voice spoke and startled you.

'Lady,' the low voice called to you. 

You gasped and froze. The voice sounded at least 10 steps away from you. The street was empty, and you contemplated running away, for the castle was close. But you also knew it was more than likely that whoever was calling you, would be faster than you. 

You slowly turned around, keeping your head down and your face covered.

'Show me your face, woman,' the voice said, amused. 

You heard him take two steps closer towards you, and you closed your eyes. You took a deep breath, not knowing if the man who spoke to you was a guard who would take you back to the castle, or worse, if it was the Dane.

'Lady,' the man sounded impatient now, stepping closer.

You knew there was no way out, and with trembling hands you lifted your hood off and opened your eyes. You slowly looked up and locked eyes with the man, who was now only a few steps away from you.

Sihtric. 

You clenched your jaw upon seeing him and tried to swallow, but your mouth had gone dry and your cheeks turned red. Luckily it was dark, so he couldn't tell.

'Yeah… I thought it was you,' Sihtric smiled, and he looked you up and down, 'you enjoyed watching me?' he asked, raising an eyebrow as he bit his tongue between his teeth.

You didn't answer him, your voice would tremble if you spoke now.

He took another step closer, which made you take a step back.

'What, you lost your tongue?' he asked, 'or did you not enjoy what you saw?'

'No,' you replied hoarsely, taking another step back. 

But you were abruptly stopped as your back hit a wall. Unknowingly, you had backed yourself into the stable wall. The same wall that had hidden Sihtric from view yesterday, except from yours. And you knew that if he wanted to hurt you, no one would see it.

He sensed your fear, chuckled, and took another step towards you. He was now so close that you could feel his body heat. And you smelled the ale in his breath as he moved his face closer to yours, looking deep into your eyes. And in that moment, the burning torch which lit the dark stable, revealed his mismatched eyes and the scars on his beautiful, yet dangerous face. 

'No?' Sihtric repeated you, gently lifting your chin up with his hand. 

He softly brushed his rough thumb over your lower lip and squinted his eyes, as if he was inspecting you.

'Hmm, no,' he spoke softly, 'I can see you didn't lose your tongue. So you mean to tell me that, no, you didn't like what you saw?' he asked, and he became cocky.

His warmth, his attitude and the touch of his hand had made you forget how to talk for a moment.

He looked away, smiled, shook his head and then looked back into your eyes. 

'So, how long were you watching me yesterday?'

'Long enough,' you blurted out, surprised at how confident you managed to sound.

'Oh, really?' he smirked, and gently pushed his body against yours, 'So, do you watch other men too?'

You became dizzy as you felt his breath on your lips. You desperately wanted to taste him.

You closed your eyes as you tried to shake that thought, but it didn't help that Sihtric slid his hand down to your neck. And you could see the mischief in his eyes when you opened yours. 

'Do… you… tease other women too?' you managed to ask. 

You were sure he could feel your heartbeat, as you expected him to wrap his hand around your throat. Which you secretly hoped he would do. And you hoped he would kiss you, and that he would tighten his grip around your throat as he did, letting you know he was in charge. But instead, he let go of you. He smirked and took a few steps back and he composed himself. His back straight, his chin up and his hands behind his back. He cleared his throat.

'No, lady,' he said, suddenly politely, 'you caught my eye, so I only tease you. But if you are spoken for, then allow me to apologise-'

'I am not spoken for,' you interrupted, being surprised by his manners, 'and I do not look at other men.'

Sihtric nodded, somewhat confused. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed it as he spoke.

'I thought that… you know,' he mumbled, 'that a king always beds his servants.'

'I am no servant,' you snapped.

'Then why do you live in the castle?'

'I am… I am a nun,' you lied, as confident as you could.

Sihtric looked at you for a moment and then burst into laughter.

'A nun?' he asked through his laugh. 

You let out a nervous chuckle and tried to laugh along.

But then his smile disappeared, almost as fast as it had appeared. He rushed towards you, and before you realised it, he had already shoved you back against the stable wall. He grabbed your arms firmly and pressed his forehead against yours. 

'So you're God's woman, hm?' he licked his lips, 'does He not forbid you any form of pleasure?' he asked with a low, threatening voice.

'Y… yes,' you stuttered.

'Then why did you watch me?' he breathed heavily, 'and why did you come look for me tonight?'

You didn't answer him. And you felt that you should be scared now, and maybe you were, but his low voice and his dominance turned you on more than anything else.

He brought his face down to your ear, never loosening his grip on you, and you became dizzy again when you heard his heavy breathing.

'You lie to me,' he growled, 'I think your god wants me to punish you for that sin.'

'Will you?' you almost moaned, and you pushed your body against his.

Sihtric released your arms and quickly slid one hand up the back of your head. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head slightly back, his grip strong and tight. You couldn't help but moan as he did, and you saw the hunger in his eyes when he looked at you. Making you feel a strange mixture of fear and lust. 

'You wish to play with me, lady?' his voice was deep and guttural, 'you are no nun, you aren't wearing a cross. And you say you are no servant. So, are you a whore then?'

You knew he had come back from battle only a day ago, and you also knew that many warriors used whores to find relief after those battles.

He bit his lower lip and moved his hand down to your hip. Sihtric's grip on you was hard, as was his breathing, and you could feel he had bruised you already. 

'I am no whore, but…' you said, breathing heavily, and you grabbed onto the leather belt around his waist, making him clench his jaw. You looked into his hungry eyes as he slipped his other hand under your cloak, and dug his fingers into your waist. 

'But?' he asked.

And he pulled you towards him, moving his hand smoothly down your thigh without taking his eyes off you, shoving your dress up to your thigh. 

You gasped at his touch, and he pushed your legs apart with his knee, in one swift move. He placed his hand behind your knee and pulled it up to his hip. 

Sihtric positioned himself between your thighs, allowing you to feel how hard he was, and he used his whole body to push you back against the wall again.

'I am no whore,' you said again, pushing your hips against his, making him groan.

'But if you wish to hump me, you-'

'Gods, I wish to,' he grunted. 

And before you could finish your sentence, Sihtric had you turned around already. He tore off your cloak, exposing your shoulders and your dress. He dragged you over to a fence, just outside of the stables. You felt his warm, strong hand on the back of your neck, and you willingly let him bent you over the fence. As you waited for him to continue, he suddenly noticed your dress. It was clean. And pretty. Unlike those of the woman he ever had before you. 

You heard a low growl escape his lips, and his grip on the back of your neck tightened.

'Not a servant,' he spoke in a husky whisper, 'not a nun and not a whore. And yet you live with the king,' he paused, 'so you must be important.'

And suddenly you felt your fear come back. You already learned that Sihtric was unpredictable. And he now understood you were not just any woman, but a woman of importance. 

He pulled you up, facing him.

'Have you ever been with a Dane?' he asked, catching his breath.

You shook your head.

'Is it wrong for you to be touched by a Dane?'

'Yes,' you admitted, 'but I don't care if it is wrong.'

Then he smiled, turned you around, wrapped his strong arms around you and pulled you against his chest.

'Lady,' he whispered in your ear, 'then I give you my word. I will do everything to make it feel right for you.'

And with those words, you forget everything you were ever taught about the Danes. All you wanted was to feel this man inside you. You didn't care if you got caught, or that he was a pagan, or if he could be dangerous. Sihtric's arms around you made you feel as if nothing could hurt you in this moment. You placed your hands on his arm bracers and you closed your eyes.

You allowed his warm, soft lips on your neck, playfully kissing his way down to your shoulder, making you slowly relaxed into his arms.

'Does this feel right?' Sihtric panted, as he felt your body weaken against his.

'Hmm,' you moaned.

'Good girl,' he whispered, 'but what is a good girl doing with a man like me?'

He tightened his embrace and softly bit your ear.

'I can't… get you out of… of my head,' you breathed heavily, 'ever… since I … since I saw you… ye-... yesterday'. 

'I can't get you out of my head either.'

'Then please,' you begged, 'please, I want you. I just want you. You don't know how I long for you.'

He spun you back around and he looked deeply into your eyes. And you swore you could see that the hunger in his eyes was making place for vulnerability and hope.

'You want me?' he asked quietly.

'You have no idea,' you smiled.

He smirked, albeit somewhat broken, and he placed one hand on your neck and he started to kiss you. Roughly at first, tightening his grip on your neck and biting your lip in between kisses. Letting you feel how he desired you.

As you became more at ease with Sihtric, you moved one hand up into his hair, and used your other hand to pull at his leather armour. 

You felt him smile against your lips as you moved your hand slowly up his arm, and you quickly learned that the more you touched Sihtric, the needier he became.

And soon he started to kiss you more gently, softly licking your lips after he bit them, before he pulled away to gaze into your eyes.

You took his face and pulled his lips back against yours, kissing him real slow this time. 

You allowed his tongue into your mouth, tasting his lust, his desire, his passion and his hunger. Quickly, you both started to moan into each other's mouths, and you began to feel that you weren't "just a lady to hump" to him. There was more to this. 

You could taste it in his kiss now, and feel it in his hands.

He wanted to feel desired too.

But then Sihtric broke the kiss, shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. 

'No, not like this,' he mumbled under his breath, as he rested his face against yours. 

And you understood that the Dane would not take you now, not here at the stables, even if he really wanted to. You were no whore to him.

You both tried to catch your breath, and started to laugh as your bodies were still pressed against each other. You did not want to let go of him, and you felt Sihtric had the same need to keep you close. You both knew that the tension between the two of you was something special. And you did not want to lie to him anymore, you wanted him to know who you really were. 

You took his face in your hands and looked into his eyes.

'Sihtric,' you whispered.

'Hmm, you know my name?' his voice was weak, and he looked at you with near love-drunk eyes.

'Yes,' you smiled at him, 'the priests are not very fond of you here.'

He chuckled.

'I don't care about them', he whispered, 'I only want you to be fond of me.'

He leaned in again and kissed you deeply, lovingly, and you gladly let him.

'Wait,' you said as you broke his kiss.

'I don't want to wait,' he murmured, almost begging, and he brought his lips to yours again.

'Sihtric,' you giggled, 'but I have to tell you something,' you became serious.

He restrained himself and looked at you.

'I'm actually…', and as you tried to tell him the truth, you both heard rapid footsteps approaching. 

You and Sihtric both looked up and you froze to the ground when you saw Father Beocca storming towards you.

'What in God's name are you doing!?' Beocca whispered angrily at you.

You looked at him, shocked, eyes wide. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

'And you?' he asked Sihtric, equally as angry, and he slapped the back of his head.

'Father?' Sihtric winced, confused, rubbing his hand over his head.

'You should know better than to try and hump a princess!' Beocca snapped at him. 

Beocca took your arm and pulled you out of Sihtric's embrace.

'Father,' Sihtric said again, but he couldn't say anything else.

He looked puzzled at you, and then back to Beocca.

'I-,' Sihtric stammered.

'No!' Beocca fummed, and he tried to drag you away, but you broke out of his grip.

'He doesn't know, Beocca!' you hissed, 'I was about to tell him, but then-'

'Then what?' Beocca snarled, 'then you decided you'd let him disgrace you first? Good Heavens, what are you thinking?

'No!' you quietly yelled, 'then you barged in!'

'Do you think that having a bastard's child will make your situation better?' Beocca said as he threw up his arms in disbelief.

Sihtric could not bring himself to speak, as he did not understand what was going on. 

You looked at him, and then down to the ground.

"Sihtric,' you said quietly, refusing to look at him, 'I am Alfred's daughter. The one who was sent to a monastery.'

Sihtric's eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped.

'Princess,' he gasped.

He took a step back and kneeled before you, keeping his head down.

'No, no, get up, please,' you said, 'I do not wish to be treated differently.' 

You walked over to Sihtric, only to be stopped by Beocca before you reached the Dane.

Sihtric looked up as Beocca grabbed your arm, keeping you away from him.

'No,' Beocca hissed at you.

You flinched at him, and a sudden look of rage come over Sihtric's face. He stood up, took a step towards Beocca and reached for his knife.

'Go on, kill me now, Dane, and you know you will never see her again,' Beocca threatened.

Sihtric froze and hissed through his teeth, 'But, Father, I did not know!'

'And now you do,' Beocca said, 'you will be hanged if this comes out! Do not go near her again if you want to live.'

'But, Father-'

'No!' Beocca interrupted, 'the only man she will ever love is God,' he said as he dragged you away, 'so do not waste your time.'

That is a lie!' you yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

Beocca stopped and muttered something to the sky.

'This,' Beocca said, while gesturing between you and Sihtric, 'can never be. You are a Christian, and a princess! He is a Dane, and a heathen!' Beocca paused, 'and a rat.'

'Really,' Sihtric shrugged, 'have you forgotten that easily about 'Thyra?' he snapped.

Thyra?' you asked, but both men didn't hear you.

'Boy,' Beocca snapped back at Sihtric, getting up into his face, 'do you not remember what happened to her?' his voice broke slightly, but he composed himself, 'you listen to me, son, you will not go near the princess again. Or I will baptise you myself before they hang you, so you will rest in Heaven. No Valhalla for you, do you understand?'

Sihtric threw his hands up and backed off. 

'Okay, okay,' he said and he clenched his jaw.

You looked at Sihtric, and thought he was not that much of a brute now, for he didn't even put up a fight against a priest.

And before Beocca dragged you back inside the castle, you glanced one last time over your shoulder.

You saw how Sihtric dragged his hands down over his bewildered face, and then furiously kicked at the stable wall, letting out a deep, angry growl.

'Sihtric,' your voice broke.

And that was the last you saw of him.

[lovers-rck]

heyyy I love your writing. I have a request for ellie x fem reader, but it's the readers first time with a girl.

thank you angel <3 I got too excited writing it and it ended up being a little long, but I hope you like it!

smut, +18.

☆

When the kiss gets deeper, you start to think. The thoughts in your head start to fight eachothers, they bite and punch and die and come back to life as Ellie grabs your waist. Her grip is strong, hungry, her fingertips kissing every inch of skin.

You try to follow her lead, trying to mimic some of her movements but your lack of experience gives you away. Ellie's hands are everywhere, in your waist, in your neck, in your legs, in your face.

She is hovering above you, your back buried in between the pillows, her body in between your legs. As she continues her kiss the red lights in your head begin to flicker incessantly, remembering that you are in fact a virgin, a girl who lacks experience, and that the furthest you got was when Ellie playfully bit your neck, which caused you to replay the scene in your head for the rest of the night.

You wanted this, you wanted to have experience, you wanted to have fun and enjoy sex like everyone else did, but you were also afraid. You always knew that Ellie had other girls before you, and that for obvious reasons she had more experience than you, and the thought that tortured you every day was not the fact that she had loved other girls before, but that those girls knew what to do to turn her on, to tease her, and you did not.

You were terrified that when the time came you wouldn't be good enough for her.

And to your horror (and your excitement) the time might have come now.

"Why is your body so soft?" Ellie murmurs as she kisses your neck, making a path to your clavicles "I might drown in your skin" you tried to laugh at her joke, but instead a weird sound comes out of your mouth. Ellie looks at you "You okay?" you nod frantically, strands of hair accompanying the movement.

Ellie leaves your neck and straightens up, your thighs on hers, her hands caressing your naked legs "You know we can't stop if you want, right?" her hair is messy and her lips are a bit swollen "You don't have to do this if you don't want"

You smile softly. She's a good person, you think "I know"

Lately you are consumed by a sense of not giving Ellie enough. That someday she will wake up tired of your fears and will come to your door to leave you forever.

But you know that's not true because Ellie is a good person "So what's happening?"

"What do you mean?" you replie, hands in your stomach

"You have been acting weird everytime i try something"

You want to punch yourself in the face.

"You don't not like it?" she asks.

"No!" you say, instant regret at seeing her face "I mean, yes, yes i do like it Ellie" you lick your lips, thinking "You are totally not the problem"

"Tell me what are you thinking" her voice is soft, she keeps caressing your legs, up and down.

You stare at the ceiling, and the ceiling quickly takes on such an interesting appearance that you would rather stare at it for hours than face the embarrassment that was invading you "Is stupid" you say "It's not important"

After a few seconds of silence, you look at her. She is waiting for you to speak.

"I just get nervous" you play with your fingers as you speak "I don't know what should i do, or what shouldn't. Im scared i might be bad in bed and you won't like it"

Ellie furrows her eyebrows "You don't have to worry about that, it's logical that you don't know what to do"

"Yeah but you know a lot!"

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"No!" you cover your face with your hands "I give up"

Ellie laughs and places her hands over yours, taking them off your face "I'm sorry" she brings them to her lips and plants a kiss on the back of your hand "But seriously, you don't have to worry about that"

"Nobody knows anything the first time" she continues "You just get good with practice" Ellie start to kiss your arms, her lips feeling every inch of skin as she reach your shoulders, moving her mouth to your neck, her body in between your legs once again.

She plants wet kisses in your neck, bitting softly and kissing the spot after. You felt how your fears start to fade with every kiss.

"Plus, is better if you have a good teacher" she murmurs and you laugh, the echo of your action reflecting in your chest.

"Are you supposed to be the good teacher?" she nods briefly, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around her waist.

When Ellie leaves your neck and looks you in the eye, you realize the joke is over. Her eyes pierce yours, full of lust. She kiss your lips with so much hunger that she thinks she might die just by kissing you. Her fingers sneak under your shirt and make contact with your skin, warm and soft just for Ellie's pleasure.

Your body acts alone. Your chest chases the warmth of Ellie's hand, famished by her touch, no longer afraid but excited. She caress your torso, trying to memorize every inch of it, feeling in a fever dream.

She never stops kissing you, but her mind is in the way you feel against her fingers, and she don't understand how long she had been alive without knowing that feeling.

A scene of absolute tenderness unfolds in the room. A non-verbal language that only their bodies understand, a language that has only two speakers in the world.

Words are not needed when Ellie leaves your lips to look at your shirt, you quickly take it off without a second thought. You feel her eyes scan your body like x-rays, and for a moment you think she might see your heart pounding.

"And you dared to be nervous?" she says, her eyes admiring your torso, a pastel pink bra decorating your breasts.

You chuckle with a bit of shame, wanting to cover yourself but knowing that you don't have to "Take yours off?" you asks shyly.

Ellie obeys and takes her shirt off quickly, a black sport bra greets your eyes and you love how fearless and shameless she is with you.

"Your wish is my command" she says and you laugh. You laugh and you laugh because your heart does not know how to express this feeling so sharp that dwells in your body, this love and this desire ""Can I take this off?" Ellie asks, touching the seam of your shorts. You nod.

The kisses resume quickly, only this time you feel them on your covered breasts, on your stomach, on your ribs. You feel holy, as if your skin is made of the most expensive diamond and only Ellie can have access to it.

Kisses sail among the sea that is your body, the sounds of wet mouths adorn the room. Ellie unfolds a path of kisses to your underwear, her teeth playing with the elastic of your panties "How are you feeling?" she asks, her breath hitting your pelvic bone.

You feel in cloud nine. Ellie's kisses work like the most expensive drug on the market, leaving you foolish and lustful "Good..." your murmur, too lost in the upcoming pleasure to say more than one word.

Ellie smiles in your skin "You want to keep going?" she says

You make a positive sound that Ellie takes as a yes. You grab her hair when she plant a kiss in your clothed cunt. She place your legs on her shoulders so that you are now completely open for her, exposed only to her.

For a few moments, Ellie hesitates. She feels that her mind has erased all experience ever acquired and now she lies blank, not knowing what to do. It was common knowledge about Ellie's adventures with different girls before she met you, the rumors about her development in bed were no secret, and she would never admit it but she felt some pride in those sayings.

Nights and nights Ellie had fantasized about this scenario, about having you at her mercy, about being able to enjoy your body for as many hours as she wanted. She never said it out loud because she didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or pressured, but every time your skirt lifted a little Ellie felt like she couldn't contain herself.

So she feels totally lost when these wishes come true and she has you lying down for her, waiting for her.

She is about to surrender when with a subtle movement you guide Ellie's head towards your pussy, a vulgar movement but coming from you it transforms into something almost tender, and Ellie finds herself again.

She moves your panties to the side and kiss your skin down there, you gasp. Her finger collects all the wetness and start making little circles in your clit, aplying pressure when she feels like it.

She watch your body react to her. Your mouth open, whimpers coming out as she speeds her pace, your grip getting harder in her hair.

Ellie watch you a few seconds more, afraid that she would come just from touching you.

She places her mouth in your cunt, licking your clit and teasing your hole with her finger. You moan and quickly understand why people talk so much about sex, bragging about how good it is. Ellie controls your body in a way that makes the moans fight to get out of your mouth and your eyes close from pleasure, and you don't understand how you could go so long without knowing what Ellie's mouth feels like.

"I'm going to add a finger," she announces, and you smile at her sayings, analyzing how weird it sounds in any other situation "Tell me if it hurts"

At first, a burning sensation invades you. The feeling is weird, it burns everytime she moves but you want more. She moves her finger in and out slowly, watching your face for a signal of something "How is that?" she says

You whimper when she curls her finger, the uncomfortable sensation disappearing as the seconds pass. "Faster" you say and is all Ellie need to know.

She obeys and start fucking you faster, to mesmerized by the view of your cunt. You start to play with your breasts unconsciously, lifting up your bra and touching your nipples and when Ellie sees that she thinks she creamed her boxers.

Too selfish for her own pride, she straightens up and starts sucking on your breasts, her fingers still fucking you. You grab her neck, feeling her tongue play with your hardened nipples and her finger accelerates the onslaught. Ellie adds a second finger and you start to lose it.

Your legs are trembling and you feel your climax close "Ellie..." you murmur, lost in pleasure

"Tell me what you need"

You moan loudly when she curls her finger "Please" you continue "Harder"

She obey and start to finger fuck you harder, her thrust making your tits bounce to the pleasure of her eyes. She sits and watch the naughtiness of your acts, how you lick your dry lips and how your pussy swallows her fingers, how is cum leaking out of your hole, translucent white liquid adorning her fingers. Ellie hears the wet sound of her fingers against your cunt and whimper herself.

Ellie feels like she could faint from such a view.

Your orgasm hit you without warning, your body trembling in pleasure, feeling how your pussy leaks.

Ellie looks at her fingers covered in you and put them in her mouth, looking at you. Her tongue clean the cream and taste your sweet flavor.

You almost cum again seeing that scene.

After a few seconds, she goes and grabs a wet towel, moving your weak legs to clean your mess and put your panties in place. You feel light-headed, still recovering from your recent orgasm when Ellie comes back and lay down by your side, caressing your hair "Did you had a good time?" she asks, knowing the answer

You nudge her playfully, giggling at her question "You are such a narcissistic Ellie Williams" you murmur settling into her chest, your head on her heart, hugging her torso. You feel Ellie's chest heave as she replies "You didn't answer my question" her hand gently strokes your hair.

"I had an horrible time" you joke and she laughs

"Good" she says, her fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear "I'm glad"

[sapphire-writes]

Heya! Would it be possible to request a short story with Aemond and a painfully shy lady? Like where he thinks that she hates him or that she doesn't care about him just because she cannot bring herself to speak to him and it kinda turns him on when he realizes that she has a huge crush on him? Thank you very much, you are the best (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

Run From Me ~ Aemond x Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: sensual themes

note: love this request! was fun to write, and I needed some softness!

Aemond had always known he was not destined to be the prince the poets wrote songs about. Since the taking of his eye, he was cursed with the knowledge that he would always feared, always shied away from by the women of the court. 

He knew it was true, he watched how Helaena’s ladies drew away from him, quickening their pace when passing him the halls. Averted their eyes from his face. Even though he had taken it upon himself to hide his ruined eye beneath a patch, they still seemed fearful of the dragon prince. 

If they shall treat me like a monster, a monster I shall become. 

You were the shyest of them all, visibly shaking in his presence. Helaena’s favorite lady, nearly attached at her hip always. Aemond would make polite conversation with his dear sister and you would cling to her skirts, drifting behind her like a silent shadow, cheeks flushed, eyes downcast. 

Aemond did not know what to make of you. The disgust you must feel for him was too painful to imagine. 

Though after a particularly frustrating moment with you, Aemond decided to seek comfort from his sister. 

“She ran from me,” he told her, sitting in front of the fireplace.

Helaena stopped her needlepoint; she had been working diligently on finishing the jade-colored scorpion per Jaehaera’s request. Her lovely brow knits together at her brother’s words.

“Whatever are you talking about?” she asks. 

“Your lady,” Aemond tells her, rubbing the scarred tissue below his eyepatch.

The incident Aemond refers to happened earlier in the day. He had nearly walked into you as you hurried in from the stables. 

Aemond fervently apologized, earning a small squeak from you as you hastily turned on your heel and fled in the opposite direction. 

“I do not understand what else I must do,” Aemond says, closing his eye.

Helaena purses her lips together tightly, a smile threatening to overtake her. Aemond opens his eye, looking at her. He frowns.

“What?” he asks.

“Oh Aemond,” she says, laughing slightly. 

“What is it?” he asks again, confused about what is laughable about this torment. 

“I should not be telling you this,” Helaena admits, “I have been sworn to secrecy.”

“But you shall tell me anyway because you are my sister,” Aemond says.

“I cannot.”

“I am your blood,” Aemond insists.

“Oh hush you dramatic fool,” she teases, causing Aemond to flush slightly at his elder sister’s scolding.

“Please, Hel,” Aemond begs, “I cannot stand it. This fear, this hatred-”

“She does not hate you, brother,” Helaena interrupts.

Aemond closes his mouth, then opens it again, his confusion is evident on his face.

“What do you mean?” he asks. 

“She is rather fond of you,” Helaena admits, “She thinks you are roguishly handsome.”

Aemond is at a loss for words. Never in his life did he think a lady, especially one so beautiful as yourself, would think him handsome.  

“You jest,” Aemond says, brushing off her words.

Helaena raises an eyebrow.

“Shall I go on?” Helaena asks.

Aemond waves a hand, encouraging her to continue, but attempting to remain composed. He can feel his heart beating wildly against his ribs. You think he is handsome. 

“She told me she cannot bear to look at you,” Helaena admits. 

For a moment, Aemond’s heart sinks, he feels his worst fears have come true. You are afraid. You are disgusted. 

“She finds your mouth too enticing,” Helaena continues, “Every time you speak of your studies she cannot focus on the words that you speak.”

Aemond feels a blush blooming on his cheeks. 

“The rest I shall not tell you - do not look at me like that! It is a discussion only ladies may have in the safety of one another,” Helaena insists.

“About my mouth?” he asks.

“About things, a sister should not be partial in hearing about her younger brother,” Helaena says, shivering slightly, “Though I do adore her so much, I allow her to voice her lustful thoughts.”

“Lustful?” Aemond asks, and Helaena slams her mouth shut, “Surely we are not talking about the same lady.”

How could you be lustful of him? Of anything? You appeared so painfully shy Aemond doubted you wished for marriage or love at all.

“Women hold many secrets within them,” Helaena says, being careful with her words, “You must understand, women have desires as men do. We are just taught to hide them. To not indulge in them beyond the privacy of our chambers.”

“And what does your lady indulge in, exactly?” Aemond asks, desperate to know. 

Helaena purses her lips.

“She is fond of literature,” she admits, “Literature that should not be read outside of one’s quarters.” 

Aemond stares back at Helaena. She sighs dramatically. 

“Men,” she murmurs, shaking her head, “Stories, Aemond, erotic stories.”

“May the Maiden protect my lovely granddaughter’s virtue, along with all the sweet doves that reside within the walls of the Red Keep and those beyond,” Alicent finishes her prayer, and you feel your cheeks flush. 

You wonder how virtuous Queen Alicent would think you were, had she known what you were up to. You hadn’t meant to read it, you’d told yourself you were done indulging in such filth, but as you were scouring the library the previous afternoon, the title caught your eye. 

A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls.

Surely, it was a book you should be reading. A tale of caution, and you were a young girl. Innocent enough, perhaps? So you brought the book to your chambers and began reading when you returned from supping with the royal family. 

You had stayed awake, eyes wide, until all the candles in your room had melted to small nubs. Even then, you brought yourself to the window, squinting at the pages in the moonlight. Reading all about Lady Coryanne Wylde and her debauchery. The text was intriguing and left a dull ache between your legs that even sleep could not calm. Only when your hands drifted below your silk nightgown, stroking the wet patch on your small clothes did you find any semblance of relief. 

Your palms were sweaty as you were dismissed from the Sept. You needed to return the book before it was found in your chambers. As you returned you plucked the text from its hiding place below your bed, sneaking toward the library. 

The great room appeared to be empty as you crept towards the shelves that lay toward the back of the room. Pushing past scrolls, you found the empty slot where the book had been taken by you. Another title caught your eye as you held the book in the air. Sins of the Flesh. Blush blooms on your cheeks as you contemplate repeating your own sin from the previous night. 

“What are you reading?” Aemond says, plucking the book with the effort of yanking a flower from its stem.

Panic surges through you. A small whimper escapes your lips as you trail behind him. 

“Aemond please give it back,” you beg, following him through the stacks.

It is the first time you’ve spoken to him, the first time he’s heard his name drip like honey from your lips. Aemond closes his eye at the sound of your small voice. He stops walking and you nearly collide with his back, before he turns to face you. 

You reach your hand up but he holds the book above his head, out of reach. Even standing on the tips of your toes does no good. 

“A young lady such as yourself should not be reading such debauchery,” Aemond chastises, clicking his tongue in disapproval.

Your cheeks burn, humiliation wrapping a fist around your throat as you desperately try to retrieve the book from his grasp. The hot feeling of shame curls in your stomach, and tears begin to form in your eyes, clouding your vision. 

“I was only looking,” you tell him, though the lie does not sound convincing. 

Aemond raises a brow at you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and you cast your eyes away from him. 

“It is alright, my lady,” he says, surprising you, “I myself am fond of literature.”

Your eyes flicker to his face. Aemond opens the book, picking a page. 

“Ah yes, here it is,” he says as if he’s found the page he wanted, “The tale of Coryanne Wylde should be read with caution, as it is known once a woman indulges in sin it is nearly impossible to recover.”

You stare at him, cheeks flushed, breathing ragged. Aemond glances up at you.

“Tell me, my lady, have you indulged in sinful behavior?” he asks, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

It is hard to breathe, your voice feels caught in your throat as it often does when you are in his presence. 

“M-m-my prince?” you manage, while averting your gaze. 

You choose to focus on a spot on the floor in front of you, heart thumping like a rabbit’s foot. You’re sure you’re shaking by now, and force yourself to clasp your hands behind your back. You wet your lips, as Aemond brings his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“Have you indulged yourself?” he asks, voice a rough murmur. 

The way he looks at you makes your stomach flip, it’s almost too much to bear being under his eye this way. All his attention focused on you, those beautiful lips you’ve dreamt of, imagined doing such sinful acts to you. It’s too much. 

“I do not understand,” you whimper, as he caresses your cheek.

“Allow me to enlighten you, then,” Aemond purrs, before bringing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

Though you’re trembling against him he manages to wrap his hand around your waist, guiding you back against the bookshelves, deepening the kiss. You’re too nervous to move, you don’t want to ruin it, don’t want him to stop. Gods don’t let him stop. You’re holding your hands up in shock still, curled into fists near your head as he continues to kiss you. 

“Touch me,” he murmurs against your mouth, as his hand paws at your waist. 

You slowly lower your forearms to rest against his shoulders before succumbing to the desire to wrap your arms around his neck; fingers tangling in his silky, silver locks. His tongue darts through your lips, slipping into your mouth pulling forth a breathy moan. 

Aemond moves his lips away then, letting them dance along the line of your jaw, down to your neck. Kissing, nipping the tender flesh of your throat until you’re whimpering against him.

“Tell me,” he purrs, “Tell me what you want.”

Fire. There is fire coursing through your veins. Fire licking its way over your skin, flames consuming you whole. That’s what it feels like, what he feels like.

“Just you,” you sigh, as he connects your lips again. 

“Always you.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?

Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.

Argenti

Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.

‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.

‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.

‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.

‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.

‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.

‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.

‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.

Welt

When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.

‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.

‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.

‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.

‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’

You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.

‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’

‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.

‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’

Blade

Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.

He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.

‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

‘Nothing.’ You replied.

‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.

‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.

‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.

‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.

Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.

‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.

[azrakaban]

Heyyy how are youu?

I saw your resquests are open and i wanted to ask:

Enemies to lover with the boys? Mattheo pretty please and reader being a hufflepuff?

Like the whole you meet and both hate each other from the start for years because reader is always in her own world reading caring for magical creatures but she isnt afraid to talk back to them when they're arguing (like calling them players or returning their insults) until one of them as a 'fuck it' moment and kisses the reader and confess their love?

Sorry that was long thank you for taking time to read and thank you if you do write it 🤭💋

I'm great my lovely! Having a good day? Did you drink and eat 2day? :)

actually fr giggled and blushed when making this tbh, have so many Hufflepuff friends so basing this off of them <3 Also totally happy to write for Mattheo hes so bbg !

Careful - Mattheo Riddle

Mattheo Riddle didn't like you. That was clear to anyone who saw you two interact, and honestly, there never seemed to be any kind of reason behind it.

The assumption was just basic house prejudice, but Mattheo was fine with other Hufflepuffs, so why were you so 'special'? You knew he had it in him to be nice, heck, you'd harboured a crush on him since third year, so why now had he decided to be an ass?

Maybe it was that you had a habit of tripping over certain uneven flagstones when reading, or accidentally smashing bottles in potions because you'd spotted a niffler. But you couldn't help being clumsy, right?

Everytime something like that happened, Mattheo would give a sigh and eye roll, which made you upset, naturally. It's not like you wanted to fall over!

As a result you would confront him and he would say the obvious. 'you're so uncoordinated it's almost painful to watch.' Well unfortunately for you, it actually was painful.

So you could imagine the reaction when Snape paired you for potions.

"Careful."

"Shut up, I am being."

A quiet sigh.

"CAREFUL!" He threw out a hand to steady a jar of frogspawn you had nearly knocked over. You glared at him.

"It wasn't my fault, it was in an awkward place..." You said quietly.

Mattheo rolled his eyes, with that same sigh. "I'm sure it was."

You rolled your eyes, mocking him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Mocking me? Real mature n/n." You mocked him again, and he copied you.

"Mr Riddle, Ms L/N, something you'd like to share?" Snape said acidly. You quickly stopped, shaking your heads.

"No sir."

Once he had turned away, Mattheo muttered to you. "Your fault."

You gasped, offended. "It was yours, whore!" You replied indignantly.

Mattheo scoffed, trying to continue work on the potion. You pushed him to the side, and he looked at you in shock for a second, before pushing you out the way.

You did the same, and it turned into a war, before you both pushed at the same time and ended up on the floor.

"L/N, Riddle, Detention." Snape said greasily. "And leave the class."

You both packed your things, flushing, and left.

"Your fault." He murmured, smirking.

"Honestly fuck you." You replied.

"Careful."

"Shut up."

"CAREFUL!"

You turned, glaring. "How about, until told otherwise, I'll be careful?"

Mattheo rolled his eyes. "Good idea."

You two were stuck in detention together, polishing trophies. Mattheo sniggered.

"You should get one for falling over, your face seems to have magnetic attraction to the floor." You bit back an exasperated scream.

"Look, I don't get why you hate me Mattheo, but just stop!"

"y/n-"

"No, no, just shut up! Can you just stop?"

"Y/N-"

"I don't like it when I fall over, it hurts, but you seem to be a sadist on some level-"

"Okay fuck it, I'm just going to shut you up."

Mattheo kissed you then, cupping your face in his hands, pulling back after a few seconds.

"I don't like it when you fall over either, you know, y/n." He said, rolling his eyes. "I can tell it hurts, so it irritates me that you're not more careful! You get hurt, Y/N, I see the bruises, and that hurts me too. Just... look out for yourself? For me?" He pleaded with you.

You froze, trying to process.

"Okay so... you don't hate me?" You said, confused.

"No actually, I kiss all the people I hate to shut them up. Oh look, here comes Potter, I'd better give him a snog. NO, Y/N, I DON'T HATE YOU." He laughed.

You giggled quietly, then smirked. "You like me." You said in a sing song voice.

Mattheo flushed slightly. "Do not." He grumbled.

"Youuuuu like meeee." You sang, giggling.

He kissed you again, effectively shutting you up as you kissed him back.

"You like me too though, y/n, let's not forget that." He smirked.

"You know you can't just kiss me every time you need me to be quiet." He laughed at that.

"Don't worry, I plan on kissing you a lot more than that. Though you do have quite a tendency to yap." He reminded you.

You poked your tongue out, moving back to the trophies to continue your detention, and nearly tripping over another wobbly flagstone.

"CAREFUL!"

Love and thanks for the request, hope this was what you were looking for, remember to eat and drink water <3

[wonderlandwalker]

Frozen Solid | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Your past is haunting you, but Finnick is there to remind you it's going to be okay

Content Warnings/Tags: Nightmares, trauma, ANGST, character death, happy ending though dw, hypothermia, mentions of violence

Word Count: 2.6k

Requested by Anon: Do you think you could do something fluffy with Finnick Odair x Víctor! Reader where the readers games were in the extreme cold and they say something like “I don’t think I’ll ever be warm again” to Finnick

A/N: Please send me more requests! I am dying to keep writing but I don't have any more ideas. Also my spell check keeps telling me it's 'realized' not 'realised' and now I'm doubting my entire knowledge of the English language. Did not read this after writing it so praying my brain worked properly

To say the games left you with issues would be an understatement. But this particular memory always seemed to keep haunting you. Maybe that was because this had happened before you taught yourself to close yourself off from your problems. Maybe it was because you hadn't figured out how to find closure yet.

Maybe it was because you were still afraid. Afraid of the tribute towering over you. Even though you weren't a kid that hadn't hit your grow spurt anymore. Even though you weren't that defenseless, innocent child anymore. The tribute was still bigger, and simply the memories made you feel powerless.

The familiar trees surrounded you, but they didn't make you feel safe like they used to before. A layer of snow covered the leaves like a warm blanket, except it was anything but. You were shivering, trembling, not sure which one. So you ran, your fight or flight instincts trying to contradict the memory

So you ran from the man who had said he would help you. You ran from your problem. You ran from your fear.

But it didn't work, it never did. You ran out of the forest, but before you even realized, you were right back inside. Every time you ran you just got stuck again. But they were all different spots. All the ones where you had camped for the night, all the places where you sat silently, too scared to light a fire to warm yourself, not willing to take the risk of eating any food that needed cooking. They all made their way into your imagination, but they all had one thing in common, they made you feel afraid. For most, you thought, childhood memories should resemble a sense of ease, of making you feel secure.

But that feeling had disappeared for you when you first entered the arena. You could still see it in front of you as if it was a crystal clear picture. Your platform had come to a stop, and at first, you were blinded by the light, the bright sun. Your mind had tricked you into thinking the sun meant warmth, and comfort. But when your eyes adjusted, and you saw the frozen lake you were placed over. You saw the cornucopia, on a frosted island in the middle. It had weapons and food, but most importantly, it had thick coats and fur blankets. You wonder sometimes if you should have gotten one, if it would have helped you, but the risk was too great, so once you heard the canon, you immediately ran in the opposite direction, for the forest behind you.

The first thing you did was look for a freshwater source, but everything, everything, was frozen. When you had become desperate, you had started to punch a hole into the thick ice. It took a long time before you broke through the surface, your hands weren't strong enough, but you didn't give up. There was a small crack, and it gave you hope to continue. When you had managed to get to the water, your knuckles were bleeding, and you could see bruises starting to form. But it didn't matter. You had done it. You cupped your hands into the water and felt the cold come over them once again. It was soothing, in a way. Your hands had become warm from the strain, but it was the first time you had felt any sense of warmth since you entered, so you were disappointed to lose it. 

You brought the water to your lips, and took a sip from it. You could feel it course through your body, and while it satisfied your thirst, it felt as if there was ice inside your veins. You had been cold up to now, but it was nothing compared to this. You could feel your insides losing temperature from the icy water.

You saw him walking your way, and even if you tried to forget, you could see his face in so many details. From his freckles that you had always admired to the dark look that filled his eyes as he came closer

You knew there was no use in running, but you still did, not wanting to confront him, having avoided doing so for as long as you can now remember. But all it did was pull you back into the forest. 

He came from the same district as you, he had said you reminded him of his little sister, and he had offered a pact. You still weren't sure why, you didn't have much to offer him. But now you guess it must have been his own memories, his own innocence wanting to help the girl that you made him think of, made him think there was still good left in him. And so you accepted, and in a way, you were grateful, because you never would have won without him, but the turmoil that stuck with you was heartbreaking. Maybe it would have been easier if it had all been over then.

He was still walking towards you, and even though he wasn't saying a word, you could tell what was going on inside his head. You could see it by the way he walked, how his arms stayed tightly next to his body. You could even hear him yelling at you in your head.

You walked backwards until you hit one of the trees. You started calling out for help, even though you were fully aware no one would come. There was no one else left. You screamed, asking for someone to help you, and the fear made your voice shiver. You knew it was the fear this time. Your body had stopped shaking from the cold after a few days. You had thought that was it, your body had given up, the cold finally having overpowered it.

You stood up, scrambling to your feet. For once, you felt warm again, you felt the blood dilating your vessels, but you knew better than to get hope. You have seen this. You had seen this in other tributes. Your body making a last attempt to warm you up, giving you a boost of power right before it would all be over. In a way you were grateful, it would finally be over. You didn't even want to win anymore, you just wanted to be warm. 

But your instincts still told you to run, and with the extra energy coursing through you, you did. 

You ran to the frozen lake, to where it had all begun, it was the only thing you could think of to go to. You ran, you ran until could no longer even feel your legs moving. He followed behind you, of course he did. He was close behind, but you were smaller, you were leaner, and you might not have as much stamina, but when it came to a fast sprint you could only just outrun him. You didn't even watch where you were going anymore. The more you ran, the colder you started to feel again. You wanted to stop, to not lose any more. To keep this little bit you had been given, but you weren't sure it would even stay if you did. 

The trees started to disappear, and before you knew it, you were on the lake. When you had first gotten here, the lake had seemed peaceful, tranquil. But now, it was nothing short of a battlefield. The bodies might have been taken away, but the blood still stained the ice, and the axes and spears still stuck out of it like weeds disturbing the carefully crafted landscape. 

You ran as far as your fleeting body could carry you. You felt it before you saw it. Ice freezing cold. This was it, this was the end. It wasn't a haven to be at peace, it was even colder than you had been. Your clothes were clinging to your body like the blankets of snow you had first noticed. Your hair was stuck to your forehead and your neck. 

You remember in the beginning, when you would run, and you would sweat. It was the first time you had carefully appreciated it in your life, the warm droplets gracing your skin. But not anymore, if your body even had the energy to sweat, it was cold, it stuck to you like the first rain of autumn. The brisk wind in combination only making you shiver more. 

So you opened your eyes, if this was the end you had hoped for, you didn't want it anymore. You opened your eyes and focused on your senses. You saw the lake, but it had risen. You had fallen in it. You looked around you and saw the cracks in the frozen surface. 

The fights, the violence, it hadn't just taken a toll on you. The ice was suffering just as much. It was hard to see from the snow that covered it, but from where you were, you could see it from the footsteps that had disturbed it. You looked behind you, and you saw him again. He had seen you fall in, and halted. You could see relief come over him. Relief that he wouldn't be the one to have to kill you, that the water would do it for him. You almost felt bad for him, he hadn't wanted any of this either. And if you had been in his situation, you weren't sure you wouldn't have done the same thing. 

But the water was your friend, at least it used to be. 

In your district, you grew up surrounded by it. Going to the sea in the summer, swimming until the sun went down. You remember you used to get so cold when it disappeared and you were left on the beach alone. But now you longed for it. 

So you swam, you swam until you felt your hands meet the solid surface of ice again. You had been light before you came here, the lack of food taking a toll on everyone you know, but it was worse now. The only thing you knew how to get was fish. You knew how to fish, but anything else you had counted on was not there. There were no berries on trees, there were no plants that could survive in this environment. And so your frame had become even slimmer. Your arms were trembling as you tried to lift yourself. You weren't sure if you would manage. This couldn't be the end. If it ended like this, your body would float away in the water like the ice that was floating on it, and you would always be cold. 

With a surge of motivation, you lifted yourself onto the surface and as soon as you did you fell down on your back. You looked up, thinking you had done it, you could rest now. You looked up at the sky, the sun was there, but you didn't trust it anymore. 

You heard something else move, and it made your head snap up. He was still there. 

He considered his steps, he couldn't reach you from where he was. But it was just the two of you, and something had to give. So he walked around the hole you had fallen into. He traced around it. He stood in the footsteps that had already been placed in the snow. 

But you didn't care anymore. You had gotten yourself out of the water, and you laid your head back down, looking back at the sun. Trying to recall the memories it held. But you couldn't feel it anymore, you couldn't feel the radiating heat. So you made peace with being cold, at least it would be over soon. 

If he had left you be, your body probably would have given up before his did. But he wanted it to be over too, he didn't want to wait any longer. He took another step, and you could hear the crack that echoed through the empty space. You looked at him, and you saw him realising his mistake as it happened. The footsteps had looked like a path, but really, they were weak spots. The steps had caused the ice strain, and it had decided it had had enough.

The cracking sound continued, until you could see the ice start to get lopsided. It started to slide towards the open water you had fallen into. You could see his eyes plead, he had convinced himself he had already won, and he was watching all his hopes disappear with one shift of snow. He fell in the water, but he wasn't friends with it. He trashed and tried to move forward, but his body was too broad, and all it did was exhaust him further. You wanted to reach out for him, to help him. You knew the cold that engulfed the water and you didn't want him to die that way. But all it would do was drag you in with him, and you found yourself watching. You watched him as his head sank under, you kept watching as if he'd come back out. You watched until you heard the last canon. 

It made you feel even colder. You thought it was over. But you could feel your heart stop, it didn't stop beating, it stopped giving you warmth. The last piece you had, had sunken down with him. Your head was filled with panic. You would never feel warm again, you don't think your body knew how to anymore, and your mind was too frozen over to even try. And just as you felt your heart slow down, just as you thought you would die in this permanent state of despair, you heard a voice calling out to you

It sounded familiar, but you couldn't place it. It felt like a star calling to you, telling you to follow it into the sky, to fly, to be free, free of this fear.

It told you to wake up.

Before you knew it the smell of pine left you, being replaced with a mix of sea salt and jasmine, it smelt like home

You felt someone shaking you lightly, and you realised the smell wasn't bound to your surroundings, but the person that was next to you.

"Sweetheart, you need to wake up, you keep shaking." He told you in a sleepy, but still gentle voice.

As you started to get a better concept of your environment, you realised that in your distraught state, you had woken him up.

"I didn't mean to wake you I'm sorry, I know you haven't been sleeping well lately." You said, guilt already entering your mind.

"Hey, look at me, don't you dare apologise" He looked at you as if your worry pained him, and you couldn't stop the next words from leaving you.

"I'm scared I'll never be warm again Finnick" You started to cry, and he took you into his arms.

"If you're having nightmares, I will stay up with you until the sun rises again." He smiled down at you. And that's when you realized, he wasn't a star in the sky, he was the sun, he was your sun. His smile warmed you, and his arms around you made you believe again. He was your sun, and as long as you had him, he would warm you.

[hyuk4sbf]

im so glad you’re back!!! i asked this before but can you please write dry humping w/ beomgyu <3

hi!!!!! tysm sorry this took me so long writing is hard >< hope u like it i got a lil carried away w it so hopefully that makes it worth the wait im so sorry again LOL

>nsfw!!!! obvi ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

>word count: 1.6k

>sub!beomgyu x gn!reader

*wrote and edited on phone lmk if theres any mistakes idk T_T

“baby,” beomgyu breathes against your mouth, “baby, i think we should stop.”

you pull away, hands still on the nape of his neck as you eye him with concern. his chest heaves, pupils dilated as his eyes practically memorise every feature to your face.

you’re perched in his lap, lips kiss-swollen, eyes hazy and thighs soft in the palms of his hands. you tilt your head at him, and it makes his throat a little drier.

“sorry, are you okay?” you question, a simmering of guilt beginning to rise in your stomach. you might’ve pushed him too far? you hope not. he swallows, blinking heavily.

“it’s okay, m’okay,” beomgyu tells you, yet he still sounds like he’s had the breath punched out of him. you try to smile a little to reassure him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek.

“we don’t have to keep going but can you tell me what happened?”

beomgyu sputters a little, his ears tinting a pretty red, and he leans his head further into your palm embarrassedly. you thumb over his cheek with a pretty little chuckle.

“i… i don’t know.” he tells you. he watches your expression change, disbelief clear as day. you prod his side a little just to see him jolt and squirm, pout now evident on your mouth.

“don’t lie, beoms,” you whine at him, “tell me what’s wrong so i can fix it.”

he scrunches his face a little, and that’s when you finally feel it. he knows you do, and he does anything to move his hips away from your own. he’s hard.

“oh,” you simply say, and watch as his hands come up to cover his face that flares an alarming red.

“m’sorry,” he babbles, “m’so sorry i didn’t mean to.”

you feel heat in the face, a warmth swirling your stomach as you watch him practically pant for forgiveness. you purse your lips at the shiver that threatens to take over your body. he got hard just from kissing you, your brain continues to alarm you as if hitting you with neon lights. your heart thumps a little louder in your chest, you wonder if beomgyu would be able to hear it if he listened close enough. however, the shy heat you feel radiating from your boyfriend makes you realise perhaps his heart is too loud in his ears to hear anything else.

your mind made up, you gently coax his hands away from his face, the little smile on your lips doing nothing to stop the swoop in beomgyu’s tummy. fuck, you’re so pretty. he feels the sweat that clams his hands, an inner voice chastising him for how pathetic he must look. you haven’t done anything but kiss him, how embarrassing.

but you just continue to shyly smile at him, much like he’s just put the stars in the sky for you rather than get an unwarranted boner for you in his lap. fuck, you’re still in his lap. your hands still hold his, keeping them away from his face. he feels hot all over again.

“it’s okay, baby,” you coo. “i can help.”

i can help. i can help. i can help.

he exhales shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows away how dry it feels. his eyes are caught with yours, flickering between your eyes and your mouth. he really needs to kiss you again, his thoughtful, beautiful lover. the urge falls off his tongue in a needy breath of, “please.”

you coo again, eyes sparkling as you cup his face and lean in to press your lips against his. you press yourself closer to him, shuffling your hips forward.

his reaction is immediate, a hand reaching for one of your thighs. the other curls around the small of your back as he openly whimpers into your mouth. he grasps at you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go, pulls you as close as he physically can. you distantly think about what his fingerprints would look like as bruises on your skin.

“do you want it just like this? hm?” you question as you pull away just a tad, “can’t even get my clothes off me, you’re that desperate for anything?” it’s teasing, condescending and you know it, but the way his eyes flutter and he nods obediently gives you enough incentive to keep going. you giggle and pair it with the rough roll of your hips down against his.

at this, beomgyu jolts with a deep moan, so pretty as it catches on a breath, and he starts to chase the friction. his hips move of their own accord, rutting up against you in an desperate pace. you’re more than happy to meet him halfway.

“come on, baby. that’s it.” you lean to whisper against the shell of his ear, “such a good boy.”

he almost can’t breathe through the flame of arousal and pleasure that lick up his spine in thick, hot waves, mixing together in excruciating and intoxicating measures. you feel so good, your skin so soft under his palms, your hot breath wet against his ear, the weight of you on his clothed cock. he does his best to memorise every detail, but the foggy haze of lust proves it a challenge.

“feel so good under me like this,” you tell him, “so big, you’d feel so good inside me, hm? would you fuck me just right? make me feel good too?” the filth spills out of your mouth before you can really stop it. you want to be unsure of where the confidence came from that you could say such things, but nothing’s more reassuring of its origins than the way beomgyu eagerly nods along to every word.

“yes. yes. please, want you to feel good, too. please, baby. wanna make you cum so bad.” he pleads, practically begging as his hand on your back guides you to hump a little harder into him.

you hum, satisfied with his answer and a little gasp catches in your throat at the sudden eagerness he has to grind directly into your own sex. your hands fall to his tummy, and you take the opportunity to slip up his shirt, fingers exploring every sliver of skin that gets exposed to you the higher you hike upwards. you practically leave flames in your wake, his breaths so loud and shaky, skin so hot and slicking up with a sheen of sweat under your touch.

“so cute,” you giggle and you can’t help but to ask, “been thinking about this?”

the boy pants, “all the— ah!… time. think about you coming on my tongue all the time. ah fuck, fuck! you’re so pretty.”

you whimper against his ear, “maybe if you cum for me like this, i’ll let you taste me. think you can do it, beomie?” you reach his chest, and your fingers roll his nipples between them, and somehow he humps into you with a more desperate intent. and god fuck, he whines, louder than he had been, body trembling under yours and hands grasping at your shirt for dear life.

“yes, p…please. i think m’close. please…”

“what is it, honey? what do you need?”

“kiss me. fuck, please kiss me. m’gonna cum.”

your heart thrums in your ears, and you’re quick to oblige, lips smashing against his own in a mess of tongue and teeth.

beomgyu gasps into your mouth, his body seizing, thighs trembling underneath you, and you moan in response at the realisation of the mess he’s making in his pants. his eyes scrunching closed at the pleasure that takes hold of his body, and you keep your hips moving to guide him through it.

your hands push his hair out of his face, your ministrations falling to a complete halt as you start to coax him down from his high. he looks so dazed, but satiated.

your expression easily mirrors his own when his lips stretch into a big, dopey smile at you. “god, you are so hot.”

you playfully land a smack to his arm, and bury your head in his neck as the embarrassment of all you had said starts to set in. his skin is damp and sticky, but you try to hide regardless.

“i’m serious!” he exclaims, “i don’t think i’ve ever cum that hard in my life.”

you mumble, “you are so bad at this aftercare stuff.”

you feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, hearty and so himself it makes it hard to believe you had him so pliant just minutes before. the thought hitting you, the close memory of it makes you a little squirmy. he clicks his tongue.

“it’s not aftercare if it’s not over, is it?”

you move from his neck, going to question what he means. the words hitch in your throat as he catches you off guard and uses little to no strength to flip your position. your back hits the mattress with an ‘oomph!’ and you stare up at him wide-eyed.

he grins, toothy and beaming as he leans down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth that hangs agape in surprise. he trails downwards, underneath your jawline and your hands abruptly grasp at his shoulders. your chest heaves a shaky breath.

then, he pulls away, and shifts himself down the bed.

“what are you doing?”

he nudges your shirt up with his hands, and pushes your legs until he can fit between them. there’s a kiss on your tummy, and then a fiddling at the waistband of your pants. beomgyu smiles up at you, eyes sparkling happily as he waits for your permission.

“you said i could taste you.”

[synthetickitsune]

omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻

thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk

DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader

He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.

The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…

“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.

“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”

He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.

“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.

The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.

“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”

“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”

Your smile is sad. He hates it.

“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.

“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”

“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”

You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.

“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”

You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too. 

“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”

He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well. 

“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”

“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”

“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup. 

Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.

“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.

“You got it, Min.”

[illubean]

Hi hellooo <3 I love your blog and since I have a thing for this bug-eyed boi, I wanted to ask you to please write a headcanon or a small one-shot (whatever you are comfortable) about teenage!illumi SOMEHOWWWWW having a secret friendship and he meets reader in the forest etc :)

Assassins Don't Have Friends

Characters: Teenager!Illumi Zoldyck Type: Fluff, oneshot, Teenager!Gn!reader

this turned out kinda long >.< idk how to feel about it tbh

Warnings: mention of human trafficking kind of?

Illumi Zoldyck was a perfect assassin and a perfect son. He never showed fear, vulnerability, was excellent at his job and followed all the rules to a t. Or so everyone thought.

It wasn't long ago that Illumi had went on the job that would unknowingly change his life, maybe about three months give or take. He was assigned to take out a member of the mafia known for trading illegal goods. Apparently he had owed the man who hired Illumi money and had no means of paying it. He was to dispose of the target swiftly and silently.

After the job had been done the young Zoldyck somehow failed to notice the figure in the corner, who had been watching him with surprised and tired eyes. Upon realizing he was not alone, the boy was quick to pin the figure down, ready to take their life at any given moment. Now that he was up close to this person, he realized it was another kid around his age, wearing tattered and dirty clothes. The part that intrigued him most is that they didn't seem afraid of him.

The mysterious person only smiled at him, eyes softening with admiration as they spoke.

"Thank you for saving me."

The young assassin stared blankly in confusion. Saving them? All he did was his job and you just happened to be there, he didn't really try benefiting you on purpose. Illumi lowered the needle he had pointed at the persons neck, eyes narrowing before he responded.

"What are you talking about?"

"That man you killed. I was just auctioned off to him and needless to say he was a horrible man, so thank you. I'm Y/n by the way."

Illumi got off of Y/n, turning around to leave before speaking up once more.

"I didn't kill him for you, I was doing my job. I should kill you too for being a witness, but I'll let you go this once."

The Zoldyck boy began to embark on his journey back home before he heard footsteps running to catch up to him.

"I never caught your name? Who are you anyway?"

He continued to walk, not once turning to face Y/n.

"Quit following me."

"But I have nowhere to go-"

"I don't care where you go, just get away from me."

It was silent for a few moments as the teens continued to walk. Y/n ignored Illumi's demands as they neared a path that stretched through a vast forest. At the end of the trail there was a large mountain. Illumi knows he shouldn't have led this stranger so close to his home, but something inside him wouldn't let him push them away.

"You still haven't told me your name. Are you like a secret spy or something? Geez we've been walking for so long- don't tell me we have to walk all the way up that mountain!"

The young assassin stopped when they got to the base of the mountain, causing Y/n to run into his back with a small 'oof'.

In front of them was a large stone wall with metal doors in the center.

"This is as far as I can allow you to get. I shouldn't have let you follow me for so long but frankly you don't pose any threat."

"Aww, I think you just let me follow you so far because you like me! Noowwww can I finally know the name of my new friend?"

Y/n smiled at the stoic male in front of them, blinking and awaiting a response.

"Assassins don't have friends, now leave."

Illumi approached the seven large doors of his home and began to push them open before pausing.

"It's Illumi."

He entered through those doors while Y/n stood confused for a few moments before realizing.

That was his name.

While the doors were closing he heard a voice yell from the opposite side.

"Okay Mr assassin! I'll come back here here every day to see you!"

{Pov switch? kinda?}

And that's exactly what you did. Every day for about a week you showed up at the foot of the mountain, sometimes convincing Zebro to call the butlers quarters.

After Illumi found out about this, he finally went down to meet them. This time you looked much cleaner, holding a small basket with a cloth over it.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I told you I would visit every day, didn't I? Oh, and this is for you. I managed to make a little money by fighting so consider this as a "thank you'. Y'know, for killing that guy?"

You held out the basket, gesturing for the boy in front of you to take it. He lifted the cloth to reveal some baked goods underneath. Illumi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You can't keep trying to call the house. I told you assassins don't have friends."

"Welllll can't you make an acception for little ole me?" you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. "It could be our little secret!"

Without a word, Illumi grabbed one of your wrists and began walking into the forest surrounding his home. He stopped as the both of you came to a clearing, sitting down against the trunk of a tree.

"You're annoyingly stubborn."

You only smiled before sitting down next to him, reaching into your basket and pulling out two custard buns.

"Well it seems to work," you started, offering him one of the buns. "We're friends now, after all."

Illymi accepted the sweet treat with a sigh and ended up sitting there with you for hours. At some point you had both agreed to meet there once a week.

After these visits Illumi began developing a soft spot for you. He anticipated the days you would show up and the time you got to spend together.

Maybe he wasn't a perfect son.

He had secretly been seeing you without his family knowing and you were beginning to break down those walls of his.

Maybe he wasn't the perfect assassin.

Because after all, assassins don't have friends.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Lonely Souls Club 4

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as stalking, loneliness, noncon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Two lost souls cross, but not all those are lost, want to be found.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: a brief reprieve.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Bucky

He waits until the air has settled. Yet he hasn’t. That thrill buzzes behind his ears as his chest beats erratically. He can’t help but think of their run-in at the store. It wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t afraid of him, just startled in the moment. That’s a good sign.

He mulls over his colliding thoughts. He wants to wait, make sure she is ready, that she can see he only means to take care of her. Then there’s that impatience that tugs at his nape. As he comes out of his hiding spot, just up on the fire escape of the next building, he has a thought. He should just walk up and knock on her door, introduce himself.

Noooooo. No. He’s getting carried away. She’s alone and vulnerable. He doesn’t want her to associate those things with him. He wants to make her feel safe.

So he slows and minds his steps, taking those untrackable paces that make him so deadly. They never hear him coming. He clicks into soldier mode, with a mission in mind. He creeps past her door and bends to swipe up the letter, barely missing a beat as he continues down the alley.

He doesn’t stop until he’s on the next street. He peers up and down, scanning the area and peeking over his shoulder. No one following, no movement from the alley. He turns left and crosses the road, dipping beneath the alcove of an abandoned storefront.

He shakily opens his hand. He’s slightly crumpled the paper. He frowns at the wrinkles and smooths them out. He narrows his eyes and reads the first line. Her writing is loopy and she dots her eyes with exes.

‘Hi stranger,’

He pauses, savouring each letter. Stranger… one day, she’ll know his name. He still wonders how she didn’t recognise him in the shop. Every now and then, people do.

He puts his eyes to the paper once more.

‘I don’t know what else to say but thank you. I don’t know who you are, but I know you are kind. Your gift will help in ways you don’t even know. I hope one day someone does something just as nice for you.

Thank you.’

He lingers on her name. He shifts around the letter to peel off his right glove and runs his thumb over the letters. He leans on the brick and reads the whole letter again. She knows he means well. She sees what he can do, he just needs her to know all he would do for her.

He folds up the letter carefully and tucks it inside his jacket, patting the outside just to make sure it's snug. He slips his phone out and pulls up the app. He flicks through the cameras until he finds the angle he wants.

His heart drops and his soles scuff as he fights to keep from racing out into the street. She’s on the floor, sat against the wall, a litter of groceries all around her. She calmly holds a can, reading the ingredients as if the scene isn’t chaotic.

He waits, teetering between reluctance and desperation. He needs her to get up. She’s all alone and he’s the only one who can see she needs help. Yet he can’t just burst in there and scoop her up and tell her it’ll be okay.

He can only watch helplessly. He hates feeling this way. It takes him back. To when he didn’t have control. To when he was a monster.

Her

You set the can down and steel yourself, closing your eyes as you tilt your head back. Your hip is still ringing. It was just one wrong step, a stupid slip, and it all came crashing down. That’s when your armful went scattering and you with it. The tumble saw you landing on one of the tin cans, its shape more painful than the descent.

You reach to brace the wall and push yourself to one knee. Your hip is on fire as you grunt and plant your foot. You stand and cling to the wall sobbing as your tears break through. You turn and try to take a step, catching yourself with the mostly empty shopping cart, nearly tipping it as you stagger.

You twist and hit the counter with your back. You let go of the cart and get your elbows onto the counter before you slide down again. You lean back and catch your breath, aching so deep you shake. You roll your eyes against the tears and look around.

The apartment is so solemnly lonely. It’s just you. You could languish on the floor and no one would ever know. The government wouldn’t care if you didn’t cash your check, the grocer wouldn’t care if you didn’t pick out discounts, and your neighbours wouldn’t notice past their toddler’s tantrums.

You gather your strength and make yourself stand, ignoring the agony. You can do this. You grab the cart and drag it closer. You bend over and grab the bread, whipping it out onto the counter. You lean heavily on the cupboards as you go about getting it all away. Your final challenge is retrieving the cans from the floor.

At last, it’s done. You roll the cart before you, using it as your only support and fall against the back of the couch. You let the cart go and flip yourself over onto the mattress, curling up across the top as you’re wracked with heaving sobs.

You’re tired of this. The pain, the helplessness, the betrayal of your own body. You’re trapped inside this thing that doesn’t work! You just want to give up. You don’t know why you haven’t. You don’t have anything to keep you from doing just that.

Dr. Grissam looks at you dully over his chart. You sit on the low stool, unable to even take the step up to get on the bed. He sighs and taps his pen on the clipboard.

“I did recommend the cane last time,” he reprimands.

You wince. He did and you couldn’t afford it then, just like you can’t know. And the bill for this visit will be another dent in your monthly stipend. You’re rationing your oatmeal and keeping your bread frozen.

“I know. I… I should’ve listened,” you hang your head. Dr. Grissam is a stern man but he signed off on your ministry papers. Without his little scribble, you’d have nothing.

“It’s a lesson,” he sniffs, “there’s a mobility store. I recommend it. They have a big selection, affordable too.”

Affordable. That’s not within your vocabulary. He jots something down on the little pad and rips the sheet off, holding it out. “More pain meds. Ten tablets. You take them when you need to, not when you want to.”

“Yes, doctor,” your murmur.

He’s always been stingy but you don’t ask for the pills. He gives them but acts like you’re some sort of fiend. You accept the script and get up, clinging to the stool until you get your balance.

“Is it close?” You ask.

“Bus takes you straight to it. Couple blocks down.”

“Oh,” you nod, “thank you, doctor.”

“Make sure you see Charity. It’ll help.”

You utter an empty promise to do so before you leave. You can’t afford to see the physio either. You told him that before but you don’t think he heard you, or wanted to. In his eyes, it’s your own fault you’re like this. You can’t help but wonder if it is.

You won’t use the prescription. You can’t pay the pharmacy fee. You check the address scrawled beneath; you can walk there… slowly. You’ll have to take some breaks but it will be easier when you have a cane. Getting back won’t be as taxing, but you expect, you’ll draw even more stares.

Bucky

She went into the store nearly forty minutes ago. The small depot is nestled between a convenience store and vape shop. She walked all the way there from the plaza of her doctor's office.

He kept pace with her, hanging back when she sat on a bench and rubbed her hip. He still can't shake the image of her on her bed, crying on pain. The days since haven't proven any easier. 

He stares at the marquee. The mobility shop displays scooters and walkers in the window. He can guess why she's there. He can tell it took more than just the physical effort to make herself do so.

He's antsy. He hopes she's okay. She didn't look very happy after her appointment. She even seemed defeated. 

The door opens and closes. He's disappointed. It's not her, only an elderly couple. Despite the let down, he can't help but feel a dimple in his cheek. That could be them one day, a whole life ahead of them.

He checks his watch. He's supposed to meet up with Sam in a couple hours. He can cancel, he isn't exactly in the mood to be hazed. 

When the door opens again, he's transfixed. It's her. She walks steadier with the cane but still uneven. She keeps her free hand on her hip as she appears to test out her new gait, figuring out how best to place the cane.

She grows more confident as she goes. He notices her slow down and peer through the window of the bakery nearby. He keeps his distance, still across the street. He’s noted that too. How she meticulously measures out her food. A can of soup is split across three meals with nothing else. She eats slow when she remembers too.

It’s starting to get to him. So much it makes him itchy. She needs him to take care of her. She can’t do it herself. Not because of her hips or her lack of trying. He can barely do it either. He sleeps on the living room floor in the light of television just to feel a little less alone.

She’s a lot like him. He sees that more and more. As he does, he feels her pain like his own. More than his own.

He can’t keep waiting. If he does, she could get hurt. He can’t bear to keep watching her suffer like this. He can help her. He knows he can. She might not, but he can show her. It’s not the way he wanted to but his hands are tied.

He should go see Sam. He promised. Besides, he needs a favour.

Her

The shadows move just on the other side of your eyelids. You’re groggy as slowly you’re drawn awake by the odd scratching. A breeze flows over your body and you roll onto your side. Your lashes flutter and gasp as you notice the front door. It’s open!

You sit up, panic swelling in your chest. Someone’s in your apartment. You hear them, sifting around in the drawers. You turn and see the silhouette of the intruder, shoulders broad as he’s distracted by your sparse belongings. You reach for the can against the side of the folding frame.

As you swing it to the floor and haul yourself up, the man turns. You cry out as he sees you, stalking forward, his eyes flitting between you and the door. He seems to hesitate as he comes closer and closer. You aren’t fast enough to run.

He stops, frozen, as if he’s afraid of you. You don’t know what to do so you raise the cane and smack his shoulder. 

“Get out!” Your heart hammers wildly. What are you doing? This man could break you in half. “Get-”

He hisses and pushes the cane away as you aim it at him again. He lumbers around you, shielding himself with an arm as he hurries to the door, shoving through the heavy grate. He mutters something you can’t make out. You set your cane straight and limp to the door, eager to close it behind him.

You hear him outside, grunting and groaning. You keep from shutting the door as you see him tangled with another shadow. The man in the hoodie remains faceless as a thick arm wraps around his neck. Another man wrestles him down to his knees as a slat of light limns his square jaw and bright eyes. You gape  through the iron bars of the outer door.

“Lock the door,” he grows as he continues to struggle with the intruder, “now.”

You obey. You recognise the man but you can’t place from where. It doesn’t matter. He can’t be bad if he’s fighting a robber, right? You turn the locks, the lower one broken completely. You strain to watch through the peephole. 

You can’t believe this is happening, that that man broke in and you didn’t even notice. Not until he could have hurt you. Not until it was too late.

[gisele0127]

Can you do some blue lock scenario with a reader who very much needs glasses? Like reader is straight up walking in to poles, bumping into tables, squinting to read to tweets. They actually never took a drivers test because they couldn’t read road signs or the handbook for that matter🙄 The reader just lives life like this just cause. Like there is no reason for them to just not fail their eye test and get some glasses.

Blue lock boys: Rin, Sae, Barou, Kaiser, Yukimiya(💀), and anyone else you want to write for!!

notes: not proof read!! enjoy :)) THANKS FOR 700 FOLLOWERS GUYS, i’ll promise to feed y’all good when i get back home.🥹🥹

rin

after walking into another pole while you and him were walking down the street from his football practice he finally had enough.

“get some glasses or im breaking up with you”

you look up at him (all you can see is a blurry glob) confused because why would he say that?

“why’re you being mean? i don’t need glasses i’m fine.”

rin secretly liked that you were stubborn, but right now he’s more concerned. you kept on running into things, needed help with homework and schoolwork because you couldn’t see the board, and bumping into tables and such.

he flicks your forehead (specifically where there was a slight bruise forming), “i don’t like how you’re always running into things. it’s not safe.”

he tries to act nonchalant and like he doesn’t care, but deep down inside he’s afraid something bad will happen to you. he just wants you to be safe.

sae

“i don’t understand why you can’t just get glasses!”

it was the first time sae had ever raised his voice to you, or really in general around you. so what got him to this point? you two had just came back from the hospital because you fractured you ankle from tripping. sae had been getting annoyed by your carefreeness and this was the last thing he needed.

you look at him hurt by his tone, you’ve never seen the stoic man like this. you’re surprised he would even raise his voice at something like this.

he looks at you as if he’s done nothing wrong, keeping the same deadpan he always does. you roll your eyes and (try to) walk away until sae grabs your arm pulling you into his lap,

“don’t walk on your foot, you’re going to get even more hurt. and i said that because i don’t want you getting hurt again. what if i’m not there to save you?”

barou

he walks in the door after a tiring practice to some soup cooking in the kitchen. he smiles knowing you made it, and he grabs a spoon to get just a little taste while you arent looking. little does he know you accidentally put too much salt. spitting it out he says,

“holy fuck y/n. are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” he laughs after.

you look at him embarrassed because you tried to do something nice for him and it went terribly wrong.

he smiles looking at you and tenderly kissing your temple, “after my shower i’ll help you cook how does that sound?”

he sometimes finds your vision problems difficult but he never gets mad at you, he’s just a peace with your decisions to not get glasses. he never gets you for it :)

kaiser

“i set up an eye doctor appointment for you at 12:30 on tuesday by the way. it’s rest day so i’ll be able to drive you” he looks up at you while laying on your chest.

you stop playing with his hair and look confused. “what? why?”

“well love….how do i put this? i’m not your personal driver….and i’m tired of you being so stubborn” he says grinning while motioning for you to continue playing with his hair.

you roll your eyes and continue playing with his hair, you start thinking and you do feel kind of bad that your boyfriend has to drive you everywhere. sure he may be arrogant and cocky, but in reality he’s a lovesick man who only wants the best for you.

yukimiya

(if an ything the roles should be reversed💀)

“do you think our kid is going to be blind?” you innocently ask him one day while studying (mostly him telling you what the class is learning). he’s taken aback but composes himself and gives you a gentle smile.

“maybe.”

it’s a short and sweet answer, but he’s mostly thinking about he fact that you said ‘our kid’. this a sweet moment because you usually never say stuff like this. he gets up from his chair and motions you to come on the couch with him,

“but our child will definitely be wearing glasses, unlike you”. he says while sticking his tongue out.

notes part two: i’m sorry this took so long, i’ve been busy traveling all over! i hope it’s to your liking :) @crybabyyams thank you so muchh:))

[old-school-butch]

Hello again <3

I sent you an anon that you replied to on April 1st, which was me asking how ex-TIFs are received back into womanhood. Your reply gave me a little foothold which ended up very comforting as I started coming out rapid-fire to all my friends as detrans. this is primarily a message for other people in my situation, who are afraid and might want a template of what you might expect will happen once you do come out with it.

Predictably, most of my friends dropped me; I've 3 friends left. Two of which continue to support trans people but can accept that i have different opinions (as long as i'm "not mean") and one of which has seen the gender critical arguments, accepted them, and agrees. So, heavy losses, but not total losses. My two siblings seemed to sigh in relief and reveal that they never believed in genderism at all, which is odd, because in my 10 years of being trans not one of them challenged me on it. my mom fell into heavy guilt over "letting me" do all this, although i was 18 when i took testo and 19 when i got surgery, so she really could not have stopped me, legally. i suppose she mainly grieves knowing that had she had the right arguments she could have saved her kid this, but i've told her she is not to blame and i hope she recognizes that.

i haven't received any real harassment, not from anyone that i PERSONALLY know, though my family has received... harassment targeted at me? my sister had a classmate begin sending her copious pro-trans propaganda (contrapoints videos) which she instructed should be sent onward to me (sis did not comply). hilarious how my 10 years of direct experience is suddenly null and void and i'm assumed to know nothing about transness.... 6 months ago i was helping people sensitivity-write trans characters. now, i'm told i can't speak for the trans experience at all, and that i do not know what it's like to be a transmasc person. told that i need to listen to the arguments more carefully, that i don't LISTEN, when i literally lived this for 10 whole years. girl, on god? they tell me i don't get it and need to educate myself. and have empathy of course.

but in general, detransing, i've discovered that there are PLENTY of people who do not actually believe in genderism but who will play along simply out of fear or social pressure. my friends aside, who i knew through "queer" circles, everyone in my family (expect my mom) has revealed they never actually believed in it. i think this might contribute to why trans people bully dissenters so badly. they know this is the truth, that no one really buys it. i think, subconsciously, i have known that too. i never downloaded grindr, i never went into the men's bathrooms. i knew that despite testo and surgery and pronouns i could never challenge men as an equal in their eyes.

interestingly, making new friends is not that hard. I lead with the fact i'm detrans and "don't believe in all that shit" and people are VERY eager to be able to, suddenly, voice their real opinions without being called transphobic. they begin with probing questions, uncontroversial statements like "i agree they shouldn't put males in women's sports..." but if you continue to agree and not punish this daring on their part, they will reveal, with much relief and enthusiasm, what they really think. most people, normal people, really do not believe it all? i'm a brash person and can take irl confrontations quite well, hence i feel safe putting myself up as a transphobe off the bat. and people are very into this. so. the old ass saying, just be yourself.... normal people will not volunteer anti-genderist opinions on their own but when i continue to state thing after thing they open up and agree and eventually feel safe enough to admit their own thoughts. making friends, especially with non-gendie women, hasn't been that hard.

i'm going to write another message about same-sex attraction in the genderverse, but it's also a can of worms so i will make it separate from this one. again, thank you so much, for having anon on and listening, and letting us listen to each other without fear. i would hug you. to be continued

Thanks for the follow up!

My only comment is that I think most people play along out of kindness, it's not all bullying and fear, but that does impose a silence on everyone so everyone feels quite alone with their doubts.

[virginsexgod69]

imagine shane somehow pulled it together and survived with the group until season 3, but lori still sadly dies giving birth to judith. while they’re out on a run, he and rick meet you. at first they’re just jacking you for your weapons, ammo, etc, since they’re gearing up to fight the governor but then shane realizes that he wants to take you home so you can take care of his baby and him too. rick’s along for the ride too

❝ Taking Care ❞

pairing Shane Walsh x f!Reader

cw guns, mild swearing, typical twd violence, injuries

2.5k words

note okay wow, writing shane was lowkey kinda difficult hahahaha, but i tried my best! although i'm not sure if i like this or not... either way, i really hope i fulfilled your request!!!!!

“If this is someone’s stuff, we should at least leave them some.” 

“We need this more than they do. ‘M sure they don’t have a baby or are tryna gear up for a damn war.” The two men continued to ransack your sad excuse of a camp. Guns, knives, canned foods, all gone, shoved into their own bags. You watched them as they continued to rummage through your stuff. You knew you should confront them, but you’ve seen how scary people have become and didn’t want to leave the safety of the tree you were hiding behind. 

“Think there’s anythin’ good in that car?” 

“Maybe we should jus’ take the whole car.” 

You couldn’t just sit by and let them take everything you risked your life to accumulate. Even though your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute and your entire body shook with nerves, you removed the safety off your pistol and stepped out from behind the tree, pointing your weapon at the curly-haired man. 

“S-stop stealin’ my stuff!” You ordered, although it sounded more like you were begging. 

The men stopped and turned to look at you. They stood with confidence and clearly weren’t afraid of you. That made you even more nervous. The man you had your gun aimed at slowly put his backpack full of your stuff down before raising his arms up in surrender. His partner, however, reached for his own gun. 

"Don't!" you shouted, turning your gun on him instead. 

"We don't mean any harm, we just saw stuff, so we took stuff," the blue eyed man said. There was something about the way he spoke. Fearless, authoritative. It sent nervous chills down your spine. 

"Yeah, so why don't you put down the gun, darlin'," his partner said. His unflinching stance and muscular body gave you the impression that he wasn't one to mess with. 

"Tell your friend to put down my stuff and maybe I'll consider it," you bargained. 

The man smirked, clearly not taking you seriously. It pissed you off. 

"Do ya even know how to use that thing?" Now you were really pissed. You moved your finger to the trigger to fire a warning shot, but the man was on top of you instantly, tackling you to the ground. He grabbed the wrist of your hand containing the gun and slammed it against the ground until you dropped it, ignoring the way you screamed and writhed against him, trying to fight him off. With your gun now in his hold, he shoved it into your temple. 

"Shane, wai—" 

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't end your fucking life right now," he demanded, cutting his partner off. 

You sent a nasty glare his way, but when he didn't relent, you knew he was serious about killing you. You didn't want to show the men any fear, but you couldn't help the way your heart raced or how your eyes burned with tears. 

"You said," you swallowed nervously, "You said you have a baby, right? I-I can help! I was a nanny before the world fell. I know how to take care of babies and kids." 

He pondered over your words for a moment before clicking the safety back on and yanking you up from the ground.

"I think we should take her back, Rick," the man whose name you learned was Shane said. 

The other man, Rick put his hands on his hips before running a hand over his face in thought. 

"We already have people back at the prison who take care of Judith. If we take her that's just another mouth to feed," Rick argued. 

Prison? Did they have some sort of camp? Having a stable home sounded better than living out of your car and sleeping in a tent. 

"Do any of your people know baby first aid and CPR?" you asked. Now you wanted to convince them to bring you back with them. Anything seemed better than what you currently had going on. 

Rick and Shane stepped off to the side for a moment, talking in hushed whispers you could barely make out. 

"How many walkers have you killed?" Rick asked as they two approached you again. 

"I dunno, a lot?" you replied, confused at the question. 

"How many people have you killed?" 

You sighed, getting tired of his silly interrogation. "Um, two." 

"Why?" 

This man was really nosey. "Cause they were bit." That's all the detail you were willing to give the man, but he seemed to accept it anyway. 

"Fine. We can bring her back," Rick finally agreed. Shane grabbed your upper arm and leaned down to your ear. "If I even think you're gonna try some funny shit, I will kill you." You nodded nervously before snatching your arm from his grasp. 

 You helped the men load the rest of your stuff into their car -this time you were okay with them taking your stuff since you'd be going back with them- and got into the backseat of their green car. 

When you arrived at the prison and saw that it was actually a prison, you were actually a bit shocked, but you didn't complain. Shelter was shelter and having it was better than not. You followed the men inside, curiously looking around as you did so. An elderly man and a young girl holding a baby sat at a table in the area before the cells. Their guards immediately went up when they saw you walk in behind Rick and Shane. 

"Who's this?" the man asked.

"This is...uh," Shane trailed off, not knowing your name, so you quickly told him. 

"We found her in the woods. Said she was a nanny, so we brought her back to help out with Judith," he explained as the girl handed him the baby. He smiled down at the baby girl in his arms before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. 

"Hello, nice to meet y'all," you greeted. They both seemed apprehensive, but returned your greeting nonetheless. 

"And nice to meet you!" you said in a quieter, higher pitched voice to the baby in Shane's arms. She couldn't have been more than a few months. It felt strange seeing a baby so young in the middle of the apocalypse. You assumed Shane was the father, considering how he was the one cradling the infant in his arms and not Rick. But who was the mother? You glanced up at the girl. She seemed way too young to be having a baby with Shane. 

Her blue eyes met yours. "Oh, um, I'm not her mother," she explained. You could tell by everybody's body language that you shouldn't ask who is, so you kept quiet. 

"Can I hold her?" you asked Shane. 

He looked at you for a moment, deciding if he wanted to trust you to hold her just yet. He gently placed Judith into your arms, his warm hands brushing yours in the process. 

"Hi, baby!" you cooed, overtaken by her cuteness "aren't you jus' the cutest lil' thing!" She just looked at you, not a thought behind her eyes. You couldn't help the way your face split into a gigantic smile. You glanced up at Shane, but he was already looking at you with a ghost of a smile on his face and eyes less cold than they were earlier. You handed him back the baby and he handed it back to the girl before motioning for you to follow him. 

 He led you through the prison, to a cell you'd be staying in. When the other members of his group saw you and demanded answers, with authority present in his tone, Shane told them you were here for his daughter and here to stay, leaving no room for questions. Even if they didn't seem to agree with his choice, they didn't say anything. You sat on your cot. It wasn't the most comfortable, but it was heaven compared to the dirt. 

"Thanks for bringing me here," you said looking down at your shoes. 

"Better uphold your end of the deal or else I'll turn you loose and leave you for dead." 

What a warm welcome.

 In the week or so that passed, everyone started to warm up to you, especially Shane. At first, you suspected he was hovering because he didn't fully trust you with Judith, but when he hung around you, even during the times you were without Judith, you started to suspect he liked being in your company. And his wasn’t that bad either. 

“Hey there,” you greeted as you approached him with baby Judith in your arms. He stood in the watchtower, having been in there keeping watch the night before. The bright, early morning sun shone on him, making his brown eyes glow. He smiled happily at his daughter before smiling at you too. 

“What’re y’all doin’ up so early?” He asked, taking Judith from you and cradling her in his arms. 

“The little one was hungry, had to get up and feed her.” 

“Have you eaten yet?” He asked you. You nodded your head. 

“Why don’t you go get yourself somethin’ to eat?” His voice was laced with genuine care, which shocked you. He hasn’t shown too much care for anyone in the short time you’ve been here. 

“What about you, you’ve been up here all nigh. Surely you’re hungry?” He handed you Judith and turned you around, gently nudging you toward the exit. 

“Mornin’, Beth,” you said cheerly as you helped yourself to a granola bar. You though about it for a second before grabbing one for Shane too. 

“Hey,” she replied. 

“Do you mind watching Judith for a bit? Gotta do somethin’ real quick?” She agreed and happily took the baby in her arms. 

You hurried back to the watch tower and thankfully, Shane was still in there. 

“What’re you doin’ back in here? Thought I told you to go eat?” 

“You’re not the boss of me,” you teased as you tossed him the granola bar. He smirked and caught the bar. You took a seat, leaning against the wall as you ate your breakfast. He looked at you as if to ask what you you were doing. 

“ ‘M keepin’ you company,” you stated matter of factly. He didn’t argue with you and instead sat down next to you. You wanted to remind him that he was to be keeping watch, but decided against it, afraid it might push him away. The two of you ate in silence for a bit, too hungry to avert attention from the food. 

“Judith seems to like you,” he commented. 

“Well, I’d hope so, since I’m her nanny,” you joked. He chucked before responding. “You take such good care of her.” 

You smiled at him. “Least I could do since y’all took me in… even though you tried to rob me and threaten my life.” Despite the truth to your words, there was a joking tone to your voice. He looked a bit guilty. 

“We were just,” he took a moment to gather his words, “I had to-”

“’S fine, I get it,” you said, slightly relieving him of his guilt. “I’ve had to do some things I didn’t wanna to survive.” 

“Haven’t we all.” You were grateful that he didn’t try to pry too much into your life, but you wouldn’t have minded sharing had he asked anyway. You rested your head on his shoulder -much like you did to your friends before the dead started rising- and he let you stay there. 

“I better get back to Judith,” you said after a few minutes. 

“And I gotta change shifts.” The two of you parted ways, but not before he thanked you for the granola bar. 

You found Beth again. She was in a cell with Maggie who was feeding Judith. She handed you the baby and her bottle so you could take over feeding her. The sisters said their goodbyes before leaving the cell, leaving you and Judith behind. She was almost done with the bottle before you heard the faint sound of gunshots. You tensed up, clutching Judith close to you.The gunshots picked up, making you wonder if you should go and see what’s going on. You looked down at the baby dozing off in your arms. You couldn’t just leave her in here alone. The prison was virtually empty with nobody else to watch her. You chose to stay, even though the guilt of doing nothing ate away at you. 

 After what felt like forever, the shooting finally stopped. You breathed a sigh of relief. Loud footsteps rapidly approached before Shane appeared in the doorway. He was sweaty, out of breath, and clutching his side. 

“Came to check on you two, everything alright?” He asked, worriedly. 

“Yeah, she’s fine, everything’s fine,” you replied, eager to ask what it was that happened. 

“Are you alright?” Concern flashed in his eyes. 

You nodded. “What happened out there? Is everyone okay?” 

“It was the Governor, killed one of the prisoners and tried to take out everyone else too.” 

You looked away from his eyes and down to the hand clutching his side. Blood was starting to leak between his fingers. Your heart dropped. 

“Shane, did you get shot?” You asked sternly, hoping he wouldn’t lie. 

“Just a graze, I’ll be fine.” You put a sleeping Judith in her crib before approaching the man. 

“Lemme patch you up.” 

“It’s just a graze,” he insisted. 

You sighed and looked up at him which forced him to look at you. “I know you just brought me here to take care of Judith, but I wanna take care of you too.” He let out a sigh and finally relented. You smiled up at him before scurrying off to fetch some medical supplies. 

When you came back, he was sitting on the cot, still clutching his wound with a pained look on his face. When he heard you come in, he sat up straighter and put that stoic look back on his face. 

“You don’t have to act all tough for me,” you teased. You doused a towel with some rubbing alcohol before kneeling in front of him. He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he lifted his shirt to give you access to the wound. It seemed to have stop bleeding, so you gently cleaned the wound before putting a bandage on it. 

“See, really wasn’t that big a deal,” he said with a teasing smirk on his face. 

“Still had me worried, though.” You stood up and tidied the mess of medical supplies. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout me, I can handle it.” 

You knew he could, but the thought of losing him scared you. You leaned down and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. 

“Just don’t want Judith losin’ her daddy is all.” He sighed and looked up to the ceiling in thought. 

“Thank you,” he said. 

“No problem.” 

“No, not just for this. For taking care of Judith and for taking care of me.” You sat beside him and slipped your hand through his. 

“Always.” 

not quite proofread, proofskimmed maybe. i found some free time, so i'm gonna try and finish writing as many requests as i can yaaay!!! anyway, thanks for reading !! <3

oh btw, i learned what a taglist is and now i have one! if you'd like to be in it, let me know!

Taglist

@fuckedbydaryl

[darcydoesfuckall]

Why you should write that AO3 comment:

Hello! I am an AO3 author and professional fandom dipshit. This is an "essay" on why you should leave that comment on the fanfic you just read.

Table of Contents:

"Commenting is too much effort!"

"I don't know what to write!"

Do you want more fanfic?

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

"Commenting is too much effort!"

Yes, writing a comment takes energy. I'm an introvert, I get that. I have two counter arguments to this point.

AO3 comments are not the SAT:

This is a comment from my latest fic, Quantum Entangled.

Three words and a heart. It requires zero consideration, it isn't specific to the fic, it's something you could copy-paste, even. A comment like this is better than nothing. I'll let my reply from AO3 explain why:

"You know what, I appreciate this way more than you'd probably expect. The temptation to lurk is a strong one, both for social anxiety reasons and internet content-consumption culture reasons. But when people lurk, I can't tell that they've enjoyed the story. The more people that lurk instead of interacting, the more I assume that my work wasn't good enough, irrespective of the reader's actual feelings. So this was a very welcome comment to read. Thank you for indicating your enjoyment. I will endeavour to write more stuff for you to lurk on in the future. :)"

A comment like this, one that is as thoughtless and low effort as possible, is still a comment. Something that denotes a reader's interest. Because, and I can't be clear enough about this, I HAVE NO OTHER WAY OF KNOWING THAT YOU LIKED IT. Kudos and comments are my only window into the reader's experience.

Sure, I'd love more detailed and thorough comments on my work, but, if that expectation is the thing that's going to stop you from commenting at all, I'd prefer the bland copy-paste appreciation.

Onto my second argument.

Do you know what also takes effort? WRITING THE DAMN FIC:

You do not get to complain about being forced to type a congratulatory handful of words after reading that 200k slow-burn fantasy au. Do you know how many hours went into that thing? Do you? Because I can guarantee that it was A LOT. All that writers are asking for is a single emoji. A kudos, at the very least. Consider the effort that went into the creation that you've just experienced and give just a thimble full of it back.

Authors lay out a feast for you to devour. They're only requesting a "thank you".

"I don't know what to write!"

Like in the previous example, an AO3 comment can be as simple as three words saying that you appreciated it. Just an acknowledgement that you were there. It doesn't have to be fancy.

But if you want fancy...?

Here's one of my comments, from Tishae's Better Together.

Let me break it down for you.

"Stunning. This au is so well developed. I love how you managed to maintain tension after the point that they discover that their feelings are requited. This was brilliantly paced, and the action (esp the ending) was so engaging."

The comment opens with appreciation. (Think of it as a sandwich with love as the bread. It starts and ends with my enjoyment.)

There are specific details about what I liked.

"If I may ask, what was the crime that the Metatron committed? Maybe I'm bad at reading between the lines or maybe I missed something, but I'm really curious as to what dirt they have on him. Victimless? Bad enough for imprisonment, but not so morally reprehensible as to make Anathema reveal it? Did he embezzle? That's all I can really think of."

Continues with a specific question about the story and plot.

Shows that I was critically engaged and actively considering the story.

You don't have to have questions about every fic that you read, but don't be afraid to ask them if you do. I love it when people ask me about my work.

"Thank you for the delicious food. I honestly thought that you were going to have Crowley's final look be something in grey (black and white being the theme of the show, metaphorically representing separation/binary, so Aziraphale was uncomfortable with it due to the implications. Grey, symbolising unity/shades of grey as an idiom, would then be the biggest middle finger to the Metatron) but I do really like what you came up with."

Gratitude.

Thoughts about how I read the plot. (This is something I particularly love to read as an author. Please tell me what's going on in that funky lil' brain of yours!!)

"I'm hoping this comment provides plenty of dopamine. If the task activation and instant gratification parts of your brain light up, you might be more likely to write GO content again. Love your work, thanks for sharing it. I hope you gain 3 inches of metaphorical dick length. Please keep writing."

Encouragement to keep writing. (This is the best way to ensure that creators remain in the fandom)

A funny comment to sign off.

Now that you know what to comment, let's start on the real reasons why you should.

Do you want more fanfic?

Fun fact! Fanfictious Authoria are a species that sustain themselves entirely on a diet of brain worms, unfinished WIPs, and kudos. As one of the three fundamental food groups, removing kudos from the fandom ecosystem causes a complete collapse of the natural order. In times of unprecedented scarcity, entire populations of Fanfictious Authoria can die out completely. This means that the production of fanfiction, in that particular region of fandom, stops entirely, often causing major ecological damage, and the subsequent deaths of fan species in the same genus. (Like the Fanfictious Artia, or the Fanfictious Editour, both of which subsist on fanfiction based diets to survive.)

In conservation efforts, experts are imploring readers to donate kudos and comments toward any fandom region that they want to stay alive.

But I digress.

When I want more content, I tell the author. Ask and you shall receive; it's the best way to convince an author/artist to make more.

My comment on @mrghostrat's And They Were Streamers

You liked it? Then COMMENT! Not for the author's sake, but for your own. You want to see the ending of a WIP? Well, it'd be a terrible shame if the author gave up on it because they thought no one was reading... They don't know that you enjoy their work until you TELL THEM. They're not psychic, you have to help them hear you. Commenting on the things you like influences the creators of said things to attribute the act of making content (and, notably, making the type of content that specifically appeals to you) with the dopamine hit of reading your reaction. Treat them like Pavlov's dogs. Ring the kudos-bell.

Fan creators are human beings, not AI content generators.

They have real human feelings and real human egos. The contemporary attitude towards media engagement is skewed towards algorithmic, instant, and uncritical consumption. This is pumping straight gasoline into the beautiful lakes of our fandom ecosystem. Fandom cannot afford to treat its creators like mechanical text generators. We are not an unfeeling assembly line, only there to produce content. We are enthusiasts, engaging in our hobby. No fan creator has to show you anything. They are fully within their rights to keep their works hidden in their computer files, never to see the light of day. Every fanfic on AO3 is only there because someone had the grace to share it with you. You are not entitled to an author's work, just as they are not entitled to your kudos. We have a mutually beneficial arrangement. Do not forget your part in this symbiosis.

It's a problem that extends beyond AO3. Tumblr is a less enthusiastic place than it used to be. Fandom as a whole is drifting towards a consumption mindset. I, for one, am sick of it. Reblog things, like them, share them. Make fanart of fanart. Who gives a shit? Do the cringy thing. You don't have to cultivate your blog aesthetic. Be who you are, like what you like, and have enthusiasm about all of it. Fandom should be an expression of radical self acceptance. Embrace it. Leave essays about fics that you liked. Reblog the essays of other's when you see them. Exist in the mutual joy of seeing and being seen. You are not just an external observer, absorbing content from a distance. You are here too. Wave back at us. Say 'hi.'

You can count it as charity work on your metaphysical taxes.

My final appeal is a moral one.

Commenting on AO3 is just a kind thing to do.

You are your actions. Are you the kind of person who does the kind thing when no one is watching? When no one will care?

Fanfiction is a hobby, and I'm not here to guilt you about how you spend your leisure time. I'm only here to say that there is a kindness you could be giving the world.

If you are one of the people that performs this kindness, I thank you.

[sleepyelliee]

how john and abigail treat you after finding out your dating jack. part two.

before you continue!

GN reader, implied financial issues, brief mentions of the VDL gang, brief mention of injury, implied starvation and poverty. Jack is nineteen years old, Abigail and John survive AU. Implied malnourishment Loosely proofread, lmk if I missed anything. just 'you.'

credits...

thank you so much for the love on the last post!! lmk if you want me to write more of this series. part one.

One of my mutuals gave me this idea, so thank you so much @creamqueen <3.

puppy love trope implied with jack marston <3.

Throughout the short period of knowing the marston family, you managed to make a name for yourself in that household. You were popular within the walls of the ranch because it seemed like the couple's lovestruck son didn't ever stay quiet about you, everyday either John or Abigail had to hear about how pretty you were, how you were such a sweetheart, the looks that you give him, and the list seemed to go on without a stop.

Abigail and John both enjoyed your company in that small amount of time of meeting them couple weeks back. Abigail basically became the mother you never had due to her wanting to teach you everything and anything because you were never able to experience that growing up. She loved the sweet mannerisms that would escape your lips whenever you thanked her for something she would've considered small - hand sewing your clothes, fixing up old clothes that had holes in them, teaching you new recipes and she adored whenever you would compliment her food, knowing you aren't as lucky as most, causing her to insist on giving you more food because your small and malnourished body always makes her heart break.

She was also grateful that her son managed to find someone sweet as you, she was afraid that the morales and respectful demeanor she stuck into that boy's head would've gone to waste on someone who was a bad influence. Afterall, she didn't want her son to be following the same path they were running away from for years.

John was no different to you, he was carrying towards you in his own way, he would back up his beloved wife when they tried to convince you to stay over, always buying freshly new packed cigarettes for you and invites you out on the porch as he would tell you old stories of running in a gang - scolding you in the process not to make the same mistakes he did. He smuggles... insists giving you money whenever he would shove it in the pocket of your coat whenever Abigail would fix up your clothes, he knew that you needed it more to keep yourself stable because you'll decline the money otherwise. John decides to set up a room for you in the attic without telling you and gets his beloved wife's opinion aswell as the pair would decorate the room and put things you were lacking - warm blankets, couple of snacks, shoes, clothes and whatever else jack tells them that you needed at the moment.

Both parents also took notice of how Jack no longer called you by your first name. Anytime he spoke about you at dinner, he would call you sweetheart, love, darling, honey or anything that came to his mind that caused his cheeks to grow a rosy red.

He was excited for you to see the room they set up for you, it meant that you finally you have a chance to relax and enjoy a fully cushioned bed without having to worry about bills or food. It also meant that he gets to see you more often and spend more time with you.

He knows that your not fully moved in yet, but the thought of you staying here for a couple of nights makes the young man excited, Afterall he misses you whenever your not around.

...

When you found yourself on the property that belonged to the Marston's once again, you were learning back in the chair as your boyfriends father spoke about his past, mentioning couple members of the gang he used to run in. He slipped a pack of cigarettes to you like he does normally, insisting that you should take one or more.

You don't know how you found yourself smoking cigarettes as the cold wind blew against you to Jack showing the new room they are allowing you to stay in for however you'll like with a big grin on his face - excited that your going to stay over for a couple more nights than just one.

It still didn't change the fact that his arms were wrapped tightly against you, his nose buried deep in your neck as he muttered reassuring words, hoping you'll accept the offer as you two laid down on the small bed, squished together making the proximity closer.

...

Most cases whenever you stayed over, Jack would either be in the room that is considered yours or you'll be in his. You two would sleep until Jack would wake you up, hearing Abigail scold both of you through the door, stating that it's late and breakfast is already cold. Depending on the gunslingers mood, sometimes he would smart-mouth his mother just to hold you longer, causing him to get scolded more.

You two would help John with ranch work, he would always try to impress you in some type of way or both of you would get distracted and his father would scold you both.

thank you so much for reading! please do not repost my work on any other platform, reblogs and likes are very appreciated! <3. masterlist

[yrluvjane]

| ʜᴇʀ ɢᴏʟᴅᴇɴ ɢʟᴏᴡ |

[Harry Potter x fem!reader] [Warning: most annoying ending ever.]

"I never promised Hermione anything, I mean, all right, I was going to go to Slughorn's Christmas party with her, but she never said . . . just as friends . . . I'm a free agent. . . ." Harry mocked Ron voice as he sat with Y/n in the back of the library, filling her on the Ron's latest speech about his freedom. "That book please." Said Y/n mindlessly pointing towards a heavy-paged blue book titled Transfiguration of sentient beings.

"We're taking this in two weeks! Why in Merlin's name are you doing it now?" He asked flipping through the book but shut when he saw an entire 13-paged chapter on transfiguration of garden animals. "I like to be ready, and Hermione isn't being any better really."

"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes, I really couldn't care less." Said Y/n making a face which Harry believed had to be Hermione's. She raised her quill and dotted an i so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her parchment.

"You should really start studying." Said Y/n without looking up. He bent a little lower over Advanced Potion-Making and continued to make notes on Everlasting Elixirs, occasionally pausing to decipher the Prince's useful additions to Libatius Borage's text.

"And incidentally," said Y/n, after a quite a while, "you need to be careful."

"For the last time," said Harry, speaking in a slightly hoarse whisper after three-quarters of an hour of silence, "I am not giving back this book, I've learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in - and I thought you were on my side -"

"I'm not talking about your stupid so-called Prince," said Y/n, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. "I'm talking about earlier. I went into the girls' bathroom just before I came in here and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're going to get you to take them to Slughorn's party, and they all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work -"

"Why didn't you tell on them then?" demanded Harry. "They didn't have the potions with them in the bathroom," said Y/n scornfully. "They were just discussing tactics. As I doubt whether even the Half-Blood Prince" - she gave the book a suspicious look - "could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once, I'd just invite someone to go with you, that'll stop all the others thinking they've still got a chance. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate."

"There isn't anyone I want to invite," mumbled Harry, who was still trying not to think about how Y/n would certainly go with Hinderson, a Ravenclaw prefect, any more than he could help, despite the fact that she kept cropping up in his dreams in ways that made him devoutly thankful that she could not perform Legilimency.

"Well, just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business," said Y/n grimly. She hitched up the long roll of parchment on which she was writing her Transfiguration essay and continued to scratch away with her quill. Harry watched her with his mind a long way away. "Hang on a moment," he said slowly. "I thought Filch had banned anything bought at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"

"And when has anyone ever paid attention to what Filch has banned?" asked Y/n, still concentrating on her essay. "But I thought all the owls were being searched. So how come these girls are able to bring love potions into school?"

"Fred and George send them disguised as perfumes and cough potions," said Y/n. "It's part of their Owl Order Service. A Hufflepuff kept showing it off in the common room."

"Yeah, well, never mind that," said Harry quickly. "The point is, Filch is being fooled, isn't he? These girls are getting stuff into the school disguised as something else! So why couldn't Malfoy have brought the necklace into the school - ?"

"Oh, Harry . . . not that again . . ."

"Come on, why not?" demanded Harry.

"Look," sighed Y/n, "Secrecy Sensors detect jinxes, curses, and concealment charms, don't they? They're used to find Dark Magic and Dark objects. They'd have picked up a powerful curse, like the one on that necklace, within seconds. But something that's just been put in the wrong bottle wouldn't register - and anyway, love potions aren't Dark or dangerous -"

"You broke into a gate that was bewitched by Dumbledore!" Whisper-shouted Harry as Y/n hit him with a parchment roll on the head before shushing him. "And if I didn't, you would've been dead due to frostbite." Said Y/n with a glare and slamming her book shut signaling this discussion is over.

True to her words, Romilda Vane had cornered him the moment he had climbed through the portrait hole. "Hi, Harry!" said Romilda, "Fancy a gillywater?" He could imagine Y/n giving him a "what-did-I-tell-you?" look over her shoulder. "No thanks," said Harry quickly supressing a snort. "I don't like it much."

"Well, take these anyway," said Romilda, thrusting a box into his hands. "Chocolate Cauldrons, they've got firewhisky in them. My gran sent them to me, but I don't like them."

"Oh - right - thanks a lot," said Harry, who could not think what else to say. "Er - I'm just going over here with . . ." He hurried off, his voice tailing away feebly.

When he arrived in the entrance hall at eight o'clock that night, he found an unusually large number of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at him resentfully as he approached Luna. She was wearing a set of spangled silver robes that were attracting a certain amount of giggles from the onlookers, but otherwise she looked quite nice.

Harry was glad, in any case, that she had left off her radish earrings, her butterbeer cork necklace, and her Spectrespecs. "Hi," he said. "Shall we get going then?" "Oh yes," she said happily. "Where is the party?" "Slughorn's office," said Harry, leading her up the marble staircase away from all the staring and muttering. "Did you hear, there's supposed to be a vampire coming?" "Rufus Scrimgeour?" asked Luna.

"I - what?" said Harry, disconcerted. "You mean the Minister of Magic?" "Yes, he's a vampire," said Luna matter-of-factly. "Father wrote a very long article about it when Scrimgeour first took over from Cornelius Fudge, but he was forced not to publish by somebody from the Ministry. Obviously, they didn't want the truth to get out!" Harry, who thought it most unlikely that Rufus Scrimgeour was a vampire, but who was used to Luna repeating her father's bizarre views as though they were fact, did not reply.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires - and, of course, his friend Sanguini." Worple, who was a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically; the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored.

A gaggle of girls was standing close to him, looking curious and excited. "Harry Potter, I am simply delighted!" said Worple, peering shortsightedly up into Harry's face. "I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, 'Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?' " "Er," said Harry, "were you?" "Just as modest as Horace described!" said Worple.

"Here, have a pasty," said Worple, seizing one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry. "My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea -"

"I'm definitely not interested," said Harry firmly, "and I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry."

He pulled Luna after him into the crowd; he had indeed just seen a long mane of brown hair disappear between what looked like two members of the Weird Sisters. "Hermione! Hermione!"

"Harry! There you are, thank goodness! Hi, Luna!"

"What's happened to you?" asked Harry, for Hermione looked distinctly disheveled, rather as though she had just fought her way out of a thicket of Devil's Snare. "Oh, I've just escaped - I mean, I've just left Cormac," she said.

"Under the mistletoe," she added in explanation, as Harry continued to look questioningly at her. "Serves you right for coming with him," he told her severely. "I thought he'd annoy Ron most," said Hermione dispassionately.

"I debated for a while about Zacharias Smith, but I thought, on the whole -"

"You considered Smith?" said Harry, revolted. "Yes, I did, and I'm starting to wish I'd chosen him, McLaggen makes Grawp look a gentleman. Let's go this way, we'll be able to see him coming, he's so tall. . ."

The three of them made their way over to the other side of the room, scooping up goblets of mead on the way, "Who are we hiding from?" whispered a voice from behind them as Hermione shreiked.

"Y/n! Oh thank merlin!" Said Hermione placing her hand on her chest as if she just had a heart attack. Y/n chuckled, "Sorry?"

She looked beautiful.

Harry's breath hitched and caught in his throat as he raked her up and down with his eyes. She was dressed in a stunning, glittering gold dress that pushed off her shoulders and slitted up her thighs leaving others imaginations go wild, especially Harry's.

She had her hair tied up in a low bun, decorated with pearls. Her gold heels reflected the light. Her middle finger had a gorgeous wildly sparkling gem on but what caught Harry's eyes wasn't the expensive rock.

It was the large bruise forming on her knuckles, staining her skin with blueish purple marks.

Harry's hand immediately grabbed hers in worry, his mind racing with what could have caused it.

"Y/n! What happened?!" He asked, the monster crawling inside him was both in rage and worry. It was as if it wanted to climb out and tear everyone apart and push Y/n behind it, protecting her.

"Oh, it's nothing." She said as she pulled back her hand a dismissively waved it.

"Y/n punched one of Williams friend's in the face after he said something bad about you, Ron and Hermione." Luna said in her dream-like voice as if she was retelling a story.

"What?!"

"Why?"

Both Harry and Hermione asked at the same time though Harry felt the monster calm down and he had to hide the grin that was about to litter his face.

She defended him. She had punched someone for him.

Well technically she punched someone for you, Ron and 'Mione ... A voice in his said but he pushed it away. Harry felt special.

"He just said something unacceptable." She replied just as Luna interupted

"He said Harry is bias and an attention seeking freak, Hermione was disgusting for dating Weasley, Krum and Cormac and that Ron was a patheticly poor excuse of a wizard." Luna said expressionless as Y/n tried to send her 'Cut it' signals with her hand but the Ravenclaw ignored her.

"Y/n then punched his face in front of the Ravenclaw common room, breaking his nose. Then she told William she couldn't date someone who had friends that shamelessly talked in such vulgar ways and she'd rather date a Slytherin. And made sure to remind us that Hermione here is the smartest in our year, Ron saved every single throw at the match and Harry was more braver and selfless than all of us combined. That's why he isn't here, he was escorted to the infirmary."

Hermione seemed both shocked and grateful as she lunged herself at the Hufflepuff and started muttering nonsense of how she shouldn't have done that and how she'd get in trouble and how she's grateful for her words.

Harry on the other hand was a grinning freak inside. She thought he was brave. He felt the urge to giggle and held it in. Sure he was pissed off with what Hinderson's friend had to say but she stood up for him ( them ) but who cares.

She said he was braver and selfless then all of them combined. But before he could let the butterflies in his stomach get the best of him, he needed to make sure.

"So you and Hinderson are over?" He asked as Y/n nodded. "Did I go to far?" She guilty asked her friend but Harry answered and answered too fast.

"No!" He had shouted gathering some of the surrounding people's attention causing the three girls to look at him either in shock or curiosity. Hermione squinted her eyes at him and raised her brow.

He felt his face flush as he stumbled for words. "Sometimes they're just not meant to be." Grimcing as he remembered his epic failure of a date with Cho last year.

"Yea, so? I don't have a date and Hermione is hiding from her date. . . May I have this dance, Miss Granger?" Y/n asked in a deep posh accent that made Hermione giggle and blush.

"No, yo-" Hermione began but squealed when Y/n pushed her onto the dance floor. Y/n placed a hand on Hermione's waist and grabbed her other hand in hers as Hermione placed her hand on Y/n's shoulder, laughing as the latter lead them across the dance floor in quick, funny strides.

"You like her." Luna's voice came.

"Yea, I do." He said. He's face morphed into a soft lazy smile as he watched the Hufflepuff twirl them in circles making Hermione laugh as she tried to slow the badger down.

"I'm sorry Luna, I didn't mean to ruin your night." He said but the blonde waved her hand and smiled at him warmly.

"Your my friend Harry, I'm happy if your happy." She said, Harry stared at her with a friendly smile before bowing down slightly and placing his hand out.

"Miss Lovegood, may have your hand for this dance?" He asked as the Ravenclaw smiled before pulling a chuckling Harry onto the dance floor.

An hour later, Harry sat with his drink on a couch alone while Luna spoke with a friend on the other side of the room. He looked around staring at the dancing figures as they twirled and swayed under the light.

His eyes caught Y/n' figure. It wasn't that hard, she was glittering like a disco ball, her sweet laugh filling the room, making Harry smile.

He watched her dress flow every time she twirled.

How the strand, that fell from her elegant hairdo, swayed every time she laughed, throwing her head back.

He watched how she tapped her, done white nails, on the glass of her drink, into a rhythmical sound.

He watched how she twirled Hermione and complemented her in a deep voice mimicking a man, making the bushy-haired girl swat her arm playfully and covered her mouth as she laughed.

He sat mesmerised by the ethereal beauty that filled his mind, painting his every nerve and cell in a glowing haze.

His thought we're cut off when he felt the couch dip next to him. Hermione had just flopped down next to him, out of breath sporting a happy smile.

"Oh, I don't think I've ever danced so much. Should've gone to the Yule ball with her, boy can she keep going." Hermione said as she turned and faced her friend, who was staring at the said girl.

"Go, go ask her to dance!" Hermione encouraged as Harry shook his head bringing his glass to his lips.

"C'mon Harry, you can go dance with her and grow this relationship into something more or you can spend the rest of your life regretting it for being a coward." Hermione said as Harry kept quiet for a moment, downing the rest of his drink.

Hermione was about say something else when Harry jumped up and placed his empty glass on a passing tray. "You're right, 'Mione." He said.

He walked over to where Y/n was speaking to Zabini, his chest tightened at the sight wanting nothing more than to hex the Slytherin into the next century.

As Harry aproached them, he caught Zabini's eye, who looked at him in disgust before saying a few words to the Hufflepuff and leaving.

"Hey." Harry said softly as Y/n made a surprised sound before chuckling and facing him with a tired smile.

"Hey, well don't you look ravishing?" She teased as Harry felt a shiver run down his spine, the words making more problems then it should.

He swallowed before putting on a similar tone. "Isn't that my line?"

"You wish, Potter. We both know I'm much more of a gentleman." She said. Harry's eyes locked on her lips as she raised her glass and drank it.

"Dance with me." He said abruptly. She raised her brow and put down the now empty glass at a nearby table.

"Are you asking or demanding, Mr. Potter?"

"Will you give me the honour and pleasure of having this dance with you?" He asked putting his hand out, every fiber in his body begging for her to say yes.

"The pleasure is all mine." She said as she slipped her hand into his.

He slid them to the middle of the room as he placed a hand on her waist and held her other hand in his.

"You look gorgeous." He said filled with seriousness. He watched as she blushed, chuckled, looked down then up again at him.

"I'm not the one who's got the eye of everyone in the room." She said.

"You're mistaken, you're the most beautiful one here. They're blind if they think otherwise." He said, he felt her grip on his shoulder tighten.

"Didn't know your the charmer type, Harry."

Harry.

Harry.

The sound of his name on her lips made his heart beat like never before. He let go of her waist and twirled her around, bringing her closer to him.

Her hand rested on his chest as his slipped slightly lower than it was before. "Maybe there are things about me you've yet to see." He whispered.

"Maybe there is." She mumbled as she drummed her pointer finger against his chest. Harry pulled her out before twirling her out and pulling her in, wrapping his arms around her waist as her back flushed with his chest.

"Harry." She whispered as he twirled her out. There it was again, his name. His clothes felt to tight. The air felt too hot.

When she came back this time her hand was on the side of his neck wrapping around it as she brushed his jaw with her thumb. He's hand dropped to her hips, brushing his thumb up and down.

"Y/n." He whispered so softly he barely heard it. It came out as a warning, as he shut his eyes.

She was close, too close.

"Yes?" She asked as she ran her hand down his shoulder and to his chest, the hand that held hers tightened it's grip.

"Yo-" He was about to say something when the perfect moment was cut off by Hermione's shouting.

"Get off me!" She shouted, both and almost everyone in the room faced the commotion.

Both Harry and Y/n rushed over, apart of both their minds annoyed and slightly pissed off.

"You don't have to make a scene. Let's just dance." Cormac said.

"I said I don't want to." Hermione said as she stepped back from him. Y/n stepped in front of her pushing her back, behind her.

"This is none of your business, L/n. C'mon Hermione, if it was anyone else they'd beg for me to dance with them let alone date them."

"Shove off, Cormac. Hermione values those with brains and character." Y/n said as Cormac scoffed, pushed Y/n and reached to grab Hermione's wrist.

Harry was already on his way to punch the bastard when, Hermione raised her fist and punched right in the jaw.

Before anything else could happened, Y/n kneed him where the sun doesn't shine.

"Nice form, 'Mione." Y/n praised as people turned their heads to see Cormac rolling on the floor. Hermione on the other hand stared at her fist as if it punched Cormac with it's own mind.

"Next time she says 'No' you get the hint and piss off," Y/n commented as she kicked him with her heel. People began to rush over and crowd the boy.

"Y/n!" Hermione yelled horrified.

"I've got detention anyway, may as well stretch it to it's limits." She joked just as she got pulled by Professor Slughorn. Harry stared at Cormac with undisguised disgust before grabbing Hermione and rushing her out after saying goodbye to Luna and Y/n.

That night, Harry stayed wondering at all the possibilities that could've happened if Cormac wasn't being a pain, which made the Potter hate the boy even more.