#had a lot of fun experimenting with the grass

[thelemonsnek]

[id: a digitally drawn and colored scene depicting a Luxray pouncing on a Wurmple, front paws outstretched and descending rapidly. The Wurmple looks up at the Luxray in abject fear. They're in a colorful grassy field, and the sky is clear blue. End id]

Spark voice I think I will terrorize wurmples today. As a treat <3

This is the wurmple's worst day of its life

[id: a photo of a snow leopard pouncing much like the Luxray above, with its front paws outstretched up high. End id]

Inspo <3

[nereidprinc3ss]

i keep you clean; you surrounded me

in which husband!spencer reid spirals after realizing he can't be your daughter's hero forever.

angst, fluff warnings/tags: this fic is about spencer's past addiction, and how he's afraid it will impact his relationship with his daughter, conversation about alcohol, this is a fix-it fic for my life, ends on a hopeful/positive note, lots of self-loathing from Spencer, uses the phrase "shooting up", PLEASE do not read if this is going to upset you!! PLEASE!! fem!reader a/n: this felt healing in a way for me but that might not be your experience reading if you also have issues with a parent with addiction so please tread lightly and make the right choices for you. CHOOSE YOUR MENTAL HEALTH OVER MY DUMB FANFIC I CAN'T STRESS THAT ENOUGH!! and ily

“Daddy?”

Ada’s not asking for you, but you look to her anyway. She’s squeezed between you and Spencer on Rossi’s swing, and her cheeks are still feverish—remnants of a recent and rather hysterical fit of giggles. She has a glass of lemonade between her little hands (you’re trusting her with a big girl cup, if only because it’s not your glass or your house) and she peers into it intently. Her little grass-stained feet kick. Spencer pushes the swing back ever so slightly, for her entertainment. 

“Huh?”

She holds her glass up for him. 

“Our drinks are the same color.”

“They are,” he nods. “Do you like yellow?”

Ada shrugs. It’s exaggerated—one of her favorite moves as of late. “It’s okay.”

Spencer glances at you like he always does when he sees glimpses of you in your child, eyes sparkling as if her opinionated and bluntly honest nature is in any way reminiscent of you. 

“Yeah, I agree. Yellow is just okay.”

She leans against him and he’s quick to accommodate her, affectionately brushing his knuckles over your bare shoulder as he slings his arm across the back of the swing. 

“Daddy?”

“What, lovebug?”

You smile, letting your head fall back and your eyes close. The sun is warm on your face. 

“Mommy’s drink is red.”

Nothing gets past her. Rossi had pushed the drink into your hand almost the second you stepped through the door, insisting it would go well with lunch. It sits otherwise untouched on the glass table. 

Spencer hums. The swing rocks gently. 

“That’s because she’s not having lemonade like us. She’s having a grownup drink.”

“Oh.”

You think that’s the end of it, that she’s satisfied with the answer, until another moment passes, and her voice, sweet as the tinkle of little fairy bells, is posing a very loaded question. 

“Why don’t you ever have grownup drinks? Me and you always have the same.”

Spencer’s already looking at you, brows drawn as you sit up. Your eyes, open now, go wide, and you shake your head slightly to signal you have no idea how he’s supposed to respond either. 

His hand goes to Ada’s hair, gently scratching her scalp as his eyes dart over your face. You can see the gears turning in his head. This is one of very few things he clearly didn’t read about in any of the literature on raising kids when you were pregnant. 

“I… some people don’t like grownup drinks.”

It’s an inadequate answer, especially coming from Spencer—just this morning he explained to Ada why the sky is blue. Rayleigh scattering. Blue light scatters more than any other kind of light. Which then led to an impromptu lesson on oxygen molecules and other basic chemistry in the car on the way here. 

So there are standards. 

“Why not?”

You interrupt, unable to watch Spencer flounder any longer. “Ada, why don’t you go see what Henry and JJ and Uncle Dave are doing? That looks fun, right?”

You gesture down the yard to where JJ and Rossi are teaching Henry to play cornhole. 

She looks at you with big brown eyes—the set of them, the color—those are all Spencer.

“Can you and daddy come?”

You straighten out her dress and take the half-full glass from her little hands, setting it next to your own on the table. 

“In a minute. Go ahead.”

Spencer’s hand slips from her hair as she pushes off the swing and bounds down the yard. You make sure she arrives to her destination without incident, before scooting closer to your husband and taking his vacant hand. 

“Spence?” You ask quietly, leaning in to try and insert yourself into his eye line. He doesn’t look away from Ada. 

“That was bad.”

“It wasn’t. She doesn’t understand. It’s fine.”

“I didn’t—”

He looks down, lips pressed together, and your heart twists and drops like overripe fruit from the vine as you realize his eyes have glossed over. 

“Baby,” you whisper, relinquishing his hand only so you can rub his back. Your other finds his knee, drawing as close as you possibly can. “It’s okay.”

“How am I supposed to explain it to her?”

A tear falls, making a dark splotch on the fabric of his pants. 

“You don’t have to. She’s only five. I guarantee she’s already forgotten all about it.”

“I will. I’ll have to tell her one day. She thinks I’m perfect, how am I supposed to—”

He stops himself, voice tightening to a halt. You watch him hold back a cry like you haven’t seen in years. It’s an old, familiar ache for you. You can’t imagine how it feels for him. 

“Spencer,” you coo. “She adores you. She loves you so much. That’s never going to change.”

His nose twitches. 

“I’m going to disappoint her.”

“How? How are you going to disappoint her?”

“I think it’s pretty disappointing to find out your dad is a junkie.”

His tone isn’t particularly harsh but the words are like a slap anyway. 

“Spencer…” For a moment you don’t know what else to say. It’s not a secret that he’s ashamed of that chapter in his life, but you had no idea he was contending with this much self-loathing over it, even after all this time. It seems like such a distant point in the rearview mirror that the two of you almost never need to talk about it anymore. “You are not a junkie. It’s been, what—a decade?”

“I don’t want to have to tell her what drugs are, let alone that I... she thinks I’m the smartest guy in the world, and one day I’ll have to tell her that drugs are extremely dangerous, and I was shooting up for four months anyway. No matter how I try to explain it to her the ultimate takeaway is going to be that I’m weak and I wasn’t smart enough and she’s never, ever going to forget that. How am I supposed to—I can’t be a role model for her. I fucked up so badly.”

Your chest aches, somewhere deep and hollow, as he leans forward, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes, only for a moment—before Ada shrieks and his head snaps back up. Henry is chasing her with a worm. Spencer watches on, tears still leaking from his eyes and expression otherwise neutral. It’s bittersweet to hear him express such deep insecurity about the thing he’s best at in the world, even as those parental instincts kick in and he’s setting aside his own feelings to keep an eye on her. He’s never trusted himself. He’s never seen himself the way you do. 

“Baby, you are her dad and she loves you. Her love for you is not contingent on your past. You are so, so good to her. That’s all she knows, okay? She doesn’t care what you were doing when you were 25. She cares about whether you’ll be home for dinner, and if you’ll play dolls with her, and if you’ll tuck her in. That’s all she needs to love you.”

JJ wrangles the kids and after a moment Spencer looks down again, brow furrowed deeply as drops like rain dot his lap, but he hardly makes a sound. You lay your cheek on his shoulder. “And until she’s old enough for the whole story, which involves a lot more violence than I am comfortable with her being subjected to right now, you don’t need to explain it to her. You have time.”

“She wants to know now.”

“She also wants icecream for every meal. But I can’t make her understand why that’s a bad idea. What she wants and what she needs and what she is capable of understanding are all different categories. I know you love answering all her questions, and you’re a really good teacher, but you can’t make her understand something as complex as addiction.”

Spencer sniffs. 

“Developmentally she’s only really capable of understanding the world as it exists in relation to herself.”

“Exactly. So give her some time, and give yourself some time.”

“What if she asks again?”

“Then… you say you don’t like how it makes you feel. And tell her to clean up her toys. Condition her to stop asking.”

Spencer stumbles over a teary laugh he hadn’t been expecting. You sit up straight, holding his face between your hands and encouraging him to look at you. His cheeks shine with tears, but you wipe them away tenderly. 

“You’re perfect to her,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to one cheek, “and you’re perfect to me.” He cups your elbow as you kiss the other and looks at you with so much sheer adoration you could get all choked up, too.

“Wow,” he sniffles, and takes a deep breath, pulling you into him, “I don’t deserve you.”

“Of course you do,” you mumble into his shirt, eyes fluttering shut as he presses three kisses to the curve of your neck where he’s buried his face. 

“I could be canonized as a saint and not deserve you.”

Sainthood. You ponder that. 

Saints have to live virtuously. They also have to be dead. 

You hold him a little tighter. You like him exactly how he is: technically imperfect. Probably not getting into heaven. Still venerable. Very much heroic. Alive, and with you.

“I’m really glad you’re not a saint.”

He chuckles. His hand slides up your back, and then side to side—a path it’s made time and time again which has only ever led you to wonderful, perfect places.

“Me too.”

[fayes-fics]

Ingénu

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: On his eighteenth birthday, Benedict loses his virginity with you on a warm summer's night...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. Loss of male and female virginity. Sex education (sort of, mostly innocent leading innocent), vaginal sex, alfresco sex, withdrawal method, orgasms (them lucky kids). Childhood friends to lovers.

Word Count: 4.0k

Author’s Note: A fic I started more than two years ago, from THIS anon suggestion. Please note, the age of sexual consent in the UK is currently 16, so everyone is legal, although, in Regency, it was 10 (yikes). Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Err, enjoy! <3

Benedict Bridgerton.

If you were to give yourself to anyone before marriage, you know it would only ever be him. 

You grew up as neighbours, your family estate bordering his family’s in Kent. Born five months apart, it’s like destiny that you would be close. You shared your first chaste kiss when you were both twelve and then a French kiss at sixteen. And now, well, perhaps a lot more.

It’s his eighteenth birthday party when, while Colin draws attention to himself, Benedict grabs your hand and whisks you away without anyone noticing. Perhaps the brotherly distraction was by design. 

Wordlessly, he leads you far from the house into a small clearing in the woods around Aubrey Hall. There is a blanket, some pillows, and even some candle lanterns that he now lights. It appears he has something planned, and it causes a flutter in your stomach.

“Benedict, what is this?” you enquire sotto voce, his hand so large wrapped around yours. So safe.

“A quiet spot just for us,” he smiles back.

“To do what?”.

“To celebrate my birthday privately. In a manner that I know we are both so keen to,” he proclaims at first enigmatic, before clarifying: “You said you wanted to know a man before you are married, and I wish to know a woman.”

“But….” 

Beyond that, words fail.

You had indeed said as such just the other day. It was an idle, throwaway comment as you lay together in the long grass by the lake, squinting at the sun and enjoying the summer heat on your face. A languidness in your being had made you carefree with your words.

“It may be fine for you, Benedict, but I must be a maiden when I marry,” you point out.

“Well, what if you were to marry me someday?” he contends matter of fact.

“Is that a proposal?” you splutter. “Because I find it to be severely lacking.”

He chuckles at your affront. “No, you shall receive a ring when I propose,” he affirms.

“So, it is a when now, is it? “ you volley back, a smile tweaking your lips, unable to be anything but playful with him, as you have been for many a year now.

“Of that, you can be certain.”

There is a seductive edge to his voice, which seems so much older than his eighteen years; it’s quite captivating.

“But how can you be certain my answer will be yes?”

“I cannot,” he admits, seeming bemused by your quirked brow. “But I hope it will be after tonight.”

“And how can you be sure of my answer about tonight?” So much fun to toy with him.

“Again, I cannot,” he replies with a slight shrug but a soft, crooked smile. “I can only hope you deem me worthy,” he adds, gesturing around you.

“It is rather romantic,” you allow, watching in the lantern glow as he breaks into a much bigger grin that reaches his eyes. Candle reflections dance in his enlarged pupils. 

“I am so pleased you think so,” he beams. “I rather suspect Anthony plans to take me to a brothel this weekend. He did as such for his eighteenth and is of the firm opinion that I should follow suit. But in truth, I, well… “ he hesitates and takes a step forward, grabbing both of your hands in his. “...I want my first experience to be with you.”

The heartfelt, almost bashful admission has you squeezing his hands reassuringly, hoping it silently telegraphs how much you want the same, despite your reservations about preserving your honour.

“May I kiss you?” His tone is so sweet you don't want to say no.

Instead of answering with words, you push up onto tiptoes and land your lips on his. It’s familiar and exciting all at once. You’ve kissed secretly a few times now, and on each occasion, it has been incredible—like a live wire sparking between you. You push into his tall frame as your mouths open and your tongues gently touch. He tastes of peaty scotch and the smoky tinge of cigars, both likely birthday indulgences. 

His hold around your waist tightens as your kisses get more insistent and probing, tongues parrying. This time feels different—portending something more profound. Only breaking apart to take a breath, then, after a fleeting exchange of shy smiles, your lips smashing back together urgently, exploring anew.

As you cling to his waistcoat, his hands slide down your dress to grab your bottom, making you squeak into his mouth. You've never been grasped there before, and his fingers seem to span the whole of your cheeks. You stutter his name as your lips part, his aromatic breath gusting over your face as he flexes his fingers. He observes your face closely, the material of your dress bunching between his knuckles. 

“I like the feel of your bottom,” he declares with tender honesty.

You beam up at him and trace your hand down his back, running over the crisscross pattern of laces on his waistcoat before landing on his behind. His eyebrows raise as you splay your fingers over rounded, taut muscle.

“I like yours too,” you respond in kind, emboldened by how his pupils dilate and his mouth falls open at your pluckiness.

One of his hands moves to cup your jaw, diving in for another kiss, more demanding than before, your boldness catalysing a new urgency in him. His fingers trail down your neck, skating over your pulse point that you know is hammering hard, then sweeping lower over your shoulder.

“Is… is this alright for you?” His voice is full of awe as those fingers slip inside your dress, the heel of his palm resting lightly on your collarbone.

“Y… yes, it’s… wonderful, actually.”

It seems like he is mapping your skin, the contours of bone and muscle across your chest, sinking lower until his hand is resting on the swell of your breast. He worms inside your neckline, and two fingertips catch against your nipple. It pebbles hard at the slightest brush, your breath catching. You meet his blistering stare as he slowly swipes a finger over the puckered skin again. Heat prickles through you, a heavy tingle between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” 

His timbre is a beguiling mix of tease and hope as his fingertips gently swirl a circle around your areola. You nod, your lower lip snagging under your top tooth as a new tide of sensation washes through you.

“Where did you learn such things?” You marvel, your hands still on his bottom, flexing slightly, a mirror of his movements.

“My brother has told me some things,” he elucidates with a slight smirk, “including that if I touch your breasts, you will be excited for more.”

“I am,” you confess as intrigue steals your tongue: “What did he tell you to do next?” 

“That I should remove your dress and kiss your naked body, especially here.” he counsels, sliding over your nipple again.

“What else?” you pant, the thought of it making you lightheaded.

“I should feel between your legs for wetness that shows you are ready for me,” he intones as if recalling a verbatim conversation, even as his fingers spider across to your other nipple. You gasp again, a shiver running down your spine.

“Ready for you?” You echo, mildly embarrassed that you do not know any detail of what happens between a man and a woman. You have only a vague notion from the overheard gossip of people in your family’s employ. 

He grabs your right hand from his bottom and guides it to the front of his trousers. There is a hardness straining the material that you swear wasn't there before.

“What is that?” Your breath catches as its warmth seeps through the material into your palm.

“That is my cock, and if you wish to know a man, it is an essential part of the process,” he smiles winningly.

You squeeze gently on instinct, the resulting low growl in the back of his throat enthralling you.

“I think we should take off our clothes now,” he proposes, and you nod your acceptance.

His hand slips from inside your neckline and lands on the buttons between your shoulder blades as yours slide up from his trousers to his waistcoat, popping its buttons as those on your dress also relent.

“Is it alright to undress each other, or should we undress ourselves?”

“Either is acceptable, but I am rather enjoying this,” he divulges as you push his waistcoat off his shoulders.

“So am I…” 

He pulls off your dress, the silk pooling around your feet, a yen to crowd into him as the cool night air seeps through your gauzy chemise.

“You do not wear stays?” he seems taken aback, his gaze now intent upon your nipples, jutting out against the thin cotton.

“No, not yet. Mama says I am but young, and my bosom is still perky,” you explain, aroused by how his breath becomes a little laboured as you voice it.

“I like it when you say such words,” he rags, pulling you into him with a firm grip, his hands so hot through the thin cotton of your chemise. You have a sudden tart need to be naked with him, a tingle between your legs that can only be excitement.

“Take off my chemise, Benedict,” you encourage, guiding him to the ties at your neckline. You pull the bow loose, the material bunching in his hands as you both tug either side down, exposing your breasts. 

He groans as your nipples instantly pebble in the cool air. He tilts you backwards in his arms, his face descending. You rasp his name, your hand flying into his hair, twisting his chestnut waves between your fingers as the contrasting heat, suction and wetness of his lips enclose your nub. It's exquisite, and you never want this loop of pleasure coursing through you to end, pushing your breast further into his mouth.

While he lathes with his tongue, you slacken the neckline further and shimmy out of the chemise, keen for more, already addicted to this wondrous feeling coursing in your bloodstream. 

He takes a step back to look at you as the last scrap of fabric flutters to the ground.

You see the quiver in his hands and the tented outline in his trousers as his eyes drink in your naked form, lingering on your nipples, wet with his saliva, and the patch of hair between your legs that is also damp now, a slickness between your thighs that has you wanting to squirm. 

His pupils are blown wide, his lips glisten, his cheeks are rosy, and his hair is wild from your tussling as he suddenly whips off his shirt. It sails through the air in a puffed arc. The captivating sight of his pale skin glowing like sculpted marble in the moonlight ties your tongue.

But your admiration is short-lived as he is on you again, propelling you into his arms. Your mind buffers as his broad, smooth chest collides with your dampened breasts, his kiss plundering your mouth. 

It feels like you are both drunk on a fascinating cocktail of urgency and nerves, navigating new territory with a bumbling, innocent, but innate excitement. 

“Lay down,” he whispers delicately into your mouth as you emerge for air.

You do as bidden, holding his hand as he assists you onto the blanket and laying back to stare up at him, towering over you now. His hands fall to the buttons on his britches, and you can't help but bite your lip, a shiver of anticipation to see how he looks naked.

He seems almost nervous as he pops the buttons and then shuffles the woollen material downwards over his thighs. But you only have eyes for what lies between his legs. Like yourself, there is a patch of hair there, but also something entirely other that makes your thighs clench together reflexively. This must be his cock. It is a rigid mass, reddened at the flared tip, jutting out from his body at least half a foot and beneath are adjoined sacs that droop a little.

“Do not be afraid,” he murmurs, perhaps misinterpreting your curiosity for fear.

“I know you will not hurt me, Benedict,” you placate, your eyes flitting up to his face and reaching for his hands to bring him to lay down with you on the blanket.

He sighs as he kneels beside you, his hand cradling your cheek. “That is the thing, my sweet; my brother says it might hurt for a lady on her first time.”

Your breath catches at the term of endearment he employs, placing your hand over his. “I know you will do everything to mitigate such.”

His eyes go soft, and he rolls on top of you; so much warm skin. An all-consuming sensation as you lay together naked, that cock branding your inner thigh as he settles atop you.

“Indeed ‘tis true…” he confirms, then hesitates before continuing in an ardent intonation: “I meant what I said. I wish for you to be my wife one day. I do believe I love you, y/n.”

Your heart soars at his tender confession. “And I believe I love you too, Benedict.”

His responding smile lights up his whole face. 

You may only be seventeen, but you know the contents of your heart. There is no man you have met whom you trust as much as this wondrous boy, now man, you have grown up alongside. You sincerely hope to have the privilege to grow up and, indeed, old with him.

“Are you certain?” he checks sweetly, and you can only nod as his touch trails down over the ticklish skin of your belly, leaving little lines of fire that sear in his wake.

There is a jolt to your entire being as his fingers slide into your most intimate area, somewhere only you have touched before. You keen and press up into him, quite certain nothing has ever felt like this before. 

“Oh, you are very wet,” he stutters, almost stunned. “But that is good,” he quickly appends before you can become self-conscious. “It means you desire me as much as I desire you.”

“I do desire you, Benedict,” you are at pains to express, a restlessness fizzling under your skin and a clawing need for him in your bones, knowing this can only be of his doing and wanting to burn so much more. “What happens now?”

He guides your hand gently between his legs. He moans as your hand instinctively curls around it, the skin so silky even over a mass so rigid. “I put my cock inside you,” he stumbles. “Into the place you are leaking from…”

“Will it fit?” You frown, unsure you have a place within yourself to accommodate it.

“Yes.. well, at least, that is what I have been told.” 

His slightly vulnerable admission makes you release his cock and grab his face, tilting his gaze to meet yours.

“We shall find out together,” you assure, smiling when he nods gently.

This is just another adventure you will embark on together, much as you have since you were children. 

He kisses your knuckles and guides you to hold onto his shoulders as he shifts above you. Butterflies behind your ribs as he looks down at what he is doing, a slightly anxious expression as he grabs his cock and manoeuvres it between your legs. 

You spread your feet wider to the edges of the blanket, its threads scrunching between your toes as you feel blunt pressure between your damp folds. You can't help the noise you make from the intensity of it. 

Benedict’s head shoots up to scrutinise your face, concern flooding his handsome features.

“Are you alright?” 

“Yes, I think so, just nothing I have experienced before…”

Then his eyes go as wide as yours as just his tip slips into your leaking channel.

“You are so hot and tight,” he stumbles, floored by what he is experiencing as much as you are.

“You are so hot and large,” you answer in kind, gripping his bicep as he presses deeper and an odd pinch of pain flares; it makes you hiss and bite your lip. 

He mumbles an apology, pausing. “I assume that is what they were referring to. Sh-should I continue?”

“Yes, I am alright now,” you reassure him, briefly touching his cheek, curiosity outweighing the fading, dull ache. 

You are slack-jawed in astonishment as your channel stretches wider to accommodate his push forward. He is panting, and his eyes are almost like saucers as he stares down upon you, neither of you blinking.

“Oh my goodness,” he mutters enraptured. “Please tell me this feels as good for you…”

“It’s wonderful, Benedict,” you promise breathily, a warmth unfurling behind your ribs that he would care as such. “Intense, yet wonderful.”

“Same,” he exhales shakily, a vein throbbing rhythmically on his neck as he sinks deeper.

Each fractional inch has you surprised anew, a captivating gradual invasion. Just as you think you could not be any fuller, he stops.

“I am entirely within you now.”

You try to catalogue all the feelings at once, to savour them, but it's impossible. The sense of him inside and surrounding you, flesh entwined, is all-consuming; defies words or descriptions.

“I shall move when you are ready,” he whispers into your cheek before kissing you softly. 

With your nodded consent, he withdraws and then surges back in, your channel clinging to him—a sensation unlike anything you have ever experienced before, so intimate and powerful. Your fingernails claw into him, hugging him down onto you, wanting his skin upon yours.

“Oh Benedict….”

It’s all you can voice. 

A tremble all over as you share this moment, tentatively moving with him in a complementary rhythm, almost a dance like that in a ballroom. Give and take, push and pull. And there is no one you would rather be dancing with. Your bodies meld together perfectly as if designed to be joined as such. You certainly don’t understand why some women dislike relations with a man—you would happily do this anytime.

Benedict's motions speed up, your folds swelling around his plunging cock, your heart hammering against your ribs, watching the ripples of ecstasy wash over his expression, a dew gathering in his hairline.

“It’s.. it’s overwhelming,” Benedict shudders. 

Indeed, there is a quake in his being, like he is a simmering pot about to boil over, even as his face appears anxious, like he does not yet want that to happen but is powerless to stop it. You quell his movement, clutching the belt of muscle above his hips.

“Rest within me a while,” you suggest, and he stills, a staccato exhale into your hair as his cock twitches inside you.

It is wonderful to be pinned under his weight. You run a soothing touch over his skin, the soft cotton of the blanket rubbing your shoulder blades as you shift under him, wrapping your ankles around the back of his knees. Your toes tease his fuzzy calves in soothing strokes as his breathing returns closer to normal. You know, somehow you should not kiss him, an incitement he does not need.

“I do not wish this to be over too soon,” he laments quietly into your hair—a swell of emotion within you at his honest admission.

“Neither do I, but it is our first time. We cannot expect to know or be good at everything, Benedict,” you rationalise, pausing for him to meet your gaze. A sheepish mien that makes him look so adorable. “We can learn to get better together.” 

The knit on his brow loosens a fraction as he hums in agreement.

“I have heard that should I finish before I want to, there are other ways I may ensure your satisfaction,” he offers humbly.

“What does that entail?” Enchanted by the idea he would be concerned for your pleasure as much as his.

“I may touch a nub between your legs that is like a freshwater pearl nestled within folds of dewy flesh,” he states, a poetic description you are sure must be from some book.

When he pulls up to glance at where you are joined, it makes his cock prod a new spot inside you. An incredible bloom of novel sensation that has you gasping and grabbing his arms. Your channel ripples around him, and he groans heavily, collapsing back upon you inelegantly.

“Holy fuck,” he curses, sounding winded.

And you know the time for talking is over. You are impatient for him to move again, for his cock to graze that spot once more.

“Bring your legs up higher,” he tutors, intuiting your needs. 

Just as your heels curl around the shapely curve of his bottom, he moves again, making you cry out in pleasure as he hits that exact target, your nails digging into his back.

“Don’t stop Benedict,” you appeal over a ragged gasp as he grazes it again, your eyes rolling, clinging to him.

His motions are jerkier now but rougher in just the way you need. He holds nothing back, both of you fumbling towards the ecstasy growing inside. Hands grabbing, moaning into dewy cheeks, wetness matting into the downy hair below, the most debauched of sounds from where your bodies meet as he pushes into you over and over.

All your muscles start to tense, a delirium washing over you that makes you impulsive. One of your hands worming between you to strum an engorged nub just above where he fucks you, knowing on some instinctual level it is key to your pleasure. You cry out, and your pussy clamps hard onto him. Benedict groans his approval as he takes a final harsh snap, you falling over an edge, fluttering hard around his now rippling cock.

He growls and wrenches himself out of your channel rapidly. But you are barely cognizant of a milky liquid spurting over your belly as you writhe under him, body febrile mind a thousand miles above amongst the summer stars

When you return to yourself, you feel him collapse onto the blanket next to you, pulling you into his arms as if there is a compulsion to always have your naked skin on his.

“No one warned me your body would do that,” he pants, astounded. “It took all of my strength to withdraw…”

“Why did you?” You crane your neck to pout at him, believing it would feel so much better to reach that peak wrapped around his cock.

“I thought it unwise to leave you with child…” he frowns as if his reasoning were obvious.

You buffer for a few seconds, then sit up and twist to look down at him, shock flooding your already overloaded senses.

“This?!” You splutter, “This is how babies are made?”

He chuckles at first, then tempers his face when he realises you are serious. 

“I… I thought you knew…”

”No! I have not been told a thing!” you bemoan, only now realising how much of adulthood you have yet to navigate.

He delicately pulls you down to rest on top of him, nuzzling your cheek. 

“I am sorry that is the case. One day, we shall have children, I am certain. But perhaps tis not a good idea just yet. We are still young, not even yet engaged.” 

You vehemently nod in agreement, flooded with gratitude that, even as he was in the throes of his first sex, too, he had the respect and forethought to care for the consequences for you both. 

“Thank you, Benedict,” you sigh, burrowing into his embrace as a gentle waft of breeze cools your flushed skin.

“‘Tis me who should be thanking you.” he insists, caressing your shoulder. “That was amazing. I am so glad we did this together.”

“As am I,” you return, as you lay entwined together, knowing already this will be the first of many.

masterlist • wips • taglist (must follow this blog to be tagged)

Benedict taglist pt 1: @makaylan @longingintheuniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @ferns-fics @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @hanji-emo-blog @sya-skies @urfavnoirette

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Cuddling with 141 (+Roach!)

Summary: How I think Price, Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Roach would cuddle + little blurbs.

Word Count: ~ 2.1k

Warnings: None!

A/N: wrote this at 2am😭 hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Simon “Ghost” Riley 💀

- Tries his hardest to act tough and scary, but only because that’s how a Lieutenant is supposed to act. Or at least that’s what he thinks.

- Also isn’t sure how to cuddle, never saw his dad trying to do anything other than abuse his mom, and his brother was dead before he could ask him for any advice.

- As stiff as a board, has no idea what to do, just awkwardly sitting and glancing at you, increasingly concerned.

- Would eventually get the hang of it only after Johnny made fun of him for being so awful with it, did it just to spite his beloved Sergeant (also practiced cuddling with Johnny, obviously just for practice, nothing more.)

- Likes being the little spoon.

It had been one hell of a mission, 141 barely finding a safe house to rest in for a few hours and restock their weapons and ammo before having to move again. A few more hours, and though Simon knew he should be resting, he couldn’t get his brain off of alert mode, so he settled for watching the game on the telly, even if it was in Spanish. He was mostly fluent, anyway.

You had plopped down next to him after a few minutes, mumbling something about cleaning your gun, taking a rag to wipe it down and try to clear it out, your hands soon slipping down as your eyes dropped.

The other boys had gone off somewhere else in the safe house, probably to find a bed or secure it further like he should be doing right now, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t bring himself to stand up and shake you off.

You eventually went fully limp, head banging against his shoulder, somehow now waking you even then as you mumbled something, hand slipping towards your gun’s trigger. It was then that he moved, but not to get up, simply to gently pry the firearm from your hand as he clicked the safety on and let it drop to the floor.

The game blared in the background, but Simon was more focused on you, still leaning into him, and the fact that he was even entertaining this. His muscles were stiff, quickly growing sore and agitated at him after the constant use of the day. Slowly, he relaxed, finding that you melted into his body a lot easier when he wasn’t tensed up completely.

Slowly sliding one arm around your waist, obviously just to make sure you didn’t fall off the couch, nothing more, Simon leaned his head back against the couch, his own honey-brown eyes fluttering shut soon enough as he found enough peace of mind for an hour or two of rest.

Not much, but a welcome reprieve.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish 🧼

- Has no shame at all. Will cuddle you during exfil in front of everyone with no care.

- Very clingy, and also a living furnace. Good to have in the winters, since he keeps you warm, but a nightmare in the summers.

- Will whine like a puppy if you refuse to cuddle with him for heat reasons or whatever, absolutely desperate, golden retriever of a man.

- Definitely see him as the type to enjoy lying on top of you, or being the big spoon, but is down to experiment with anything you want. And I mean everything. Frighteningly open to experimentation.

- Sleeps wild or like a rock, no in between.

Of course, they’d sent Task Force 141 and their one notoriously cold-sensitive member out to Russia, staking out for any sign of a recent contract signed between them and Germany, an agreement for some form of biochemical weapon that could be catastrophic in the wrong hands.

“Doin’ alright over there, Shivers?”

You heard a Scottish voice ask from the crunchy grass you were all lying in, Gaz and Price twenty feet to your left, Ghost twenty to your right, you and Johnny right next to each other. You could see your own body shaking, feeling the ground leach out any remaining warmth from it despite your thick clothing.

“Yeah, just-t-t cold.”

You saw Ghost glance back at you, probably having heard your teeth chattering from over there. You heard the radio hiss before his voice sounded.

“When I said stay frosty, I didn’t mean it literally.”

His deadpan tone said, earning a hushed bark of laughter from Johnny, and Price shooting you a sympathetic look with Gaz. You sighed.

“Very funny-y, Ghost.”

You mumbled, not even bothering to say it over the radio. Warm palms encompassed your wrists before you could do anything to stop it, and Johnny moved in closer.

“What’re you-?”

“Ain’t gonna be any use to us as a popsicle, eh Shivers?”

You felt the weight of his body settle even closer, nearly right on top of you, gingerly taking your numb fingers and switching your gloves out with his. His gloves were already warm, and larger and kept the air insulated better. Your gloves barely fit his hands, but he didn’t seem to mind. His body heat leaked into you, numb limbs springing back to life as that pinpricky sensation crawled up your body.

You relaxed a bit more into the snow, mind clearer now. Soap moved even closer, now quite literally on top of you, trying not to crush you with his weight but also keeping you nice and warm. After a moment of shifting around and adjusting, you got quite comfortable.

“Thanks, Johnny.”

You mumbled, already seeing the stupid grin he’d be wearing because of the praise.

“Anytime, bonnie.”

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick ☁️

- Serial cuddle enjoyer.

- Usually the one to fall asleep first because he’s more relaxed around his team. Has fallen asleep on Ghost’s shoulder before and been promptly pushed off.

- Prefers cuddling in bed over anywhere else, will slip into your bed in the middle of the night if he felt lonely or somehow has a sixth sense for you getting nightmares.

- Likes cuddling in a pretzel sort of position, or face-to-face despite the fact that he buries his head in your neck every time.

Rousing from his sleep for god knows why, Kyle rubbed his eyes, slipping from the warm bed he slept in and padding over to the kitchen to grab a drink of water. His throat was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Probably the consequences of not drinking enough water while on mission, but he was in his little flat and off duty for now, so it wasn’t like it mattered much anyway.

Drinking nearly an entire glass, he heard a small thug, and his sluggish brain snapped awake as instinct kicked in, he put the glass down, approaching your room where he’d heard the sound come from slowly. Your door was already open.

He peeked inside, abruptly opening it to avoid the awful tension of the slow creaks it would’ve made had he dragged it out, only to be met with the sight of you, his roommate, curled up on the floor and sniffling.

His eyes softened and he crouched down next to you, hands moving to brush the hair out of your face as he caught sight of your watery eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

He asked, nearly a whisper for fear of making you jump. You sniffled again, and tried to get to your feet, only to stumble and be caught by Kyle again before being sat on the edge of the bed by him.

“Had a nightmare.”

You answered in a meek tone, seeming a bit embarrassed, which then was overridden by surprise when Kyle sat on the edge of the bed next to you, calloused hands gently shifting your body around until he was lying right next to you, his dark brown eyes gazing into yours.

“I have them too,”

He admitted, watching as you carefully slipped a hand around him, moving closer as he pulled the blanket over both of your bodies. He relaxed, tense muscles going nearly limp as his head leaned into your shoulder, his breathing deepening out as both of your eyelids grew heavy, eventually shutting as you drifted off into a peaceful rest.

John Price 🏷️

- Is just a big bear of a man. Loves cuddling with his missus when he gets home from a mission.

- Prefers spooning, but when his joints get achy and sore he’ll just lay on his back and let you lay on top of him.

- Is a human furnace just like Soap, so you probably won’t be needing a blanket.

- He usually waits until you’re asleep to fall asleep, but on the really rough nights, he’s out in a few seconds flat.

- Enjoys having your hands in his hair.

- Definitely an experienced cuddler.

Just as you finished your shower, you heard the front door unlocking and opening, and not caring much about getting proper clothes on, you rushed over and pulled a very-tired-looking John into a hug.

He chuckled, hand giving you a few little pats on the head as he pulled you in, taking a deep whiff of the smell of your body wash and shampoo, before slowly releasing.

“Missed me, huh? Missed you too, bird.”

He mumbled as you refused to let go, only releasing when he gave you a light little pinch on the arm, leaving you to finish getting ready after your shower as he trudged off to change and probably at least get a comb through his hair.

With a small smile now on your face, you hurried through your skin and haircare routines faster than ever before, throwing on some underwear and pajamas. As you walked into your shared bedroom, you found John struggling to get a knot out of his brown hair.

“Let me,”

You said, gently taking the comb from his large fingers, brushing the ends of the knot out first, working down to the center of it when you finally got it out. He took the comb and placed it down on his little desk with a little “Thanks, darlin’”, then took your hand and led you over to the bed.

He crawled in first, groaning when his body was finally able to sink into the soft mattress of the bed, body aching after weeks of being gone as he laid on his back, you being quick to crawl above him, head laying against his chest.

He loosed a deep sigh, pulling the blankets over both of you despite the warmth already being shared between you two.

“M’ glad to be home.”

He muttered, pulling you closer, arms settling around you as he already began drifting off.

Smiling, you replied.

“Me too.”

Gary “Roach” Sanderson 🪳

- I definitely hc him as nonverbal (like he is in the games, for whatever reason, you can decide why) but that doesn’t mean he’s any worse at cuddling.

- Roach is a little bit of a wild sleeper, so expect a few nudges and maybe some flips from him during the night.

- Enjoys the sweetheart position the most, just because it lets him hear your heartbeat.

- Serial nuzzle enjoyer. Will nuzzle into you at any moment he can, it’s just something he really likes doing.

- Douses his pillowcases with a lethal amount of your signature perfume or what reminds him of you (has an entire candle of it, too.)

- Can be very clingy.

When you got back home from the little girl’s night you’d had, finding Gary wrapped around one of your pillows and holding it with a death grip, your favorite perfume on the bedside table and a lit candle to match in the same scent wasn’t something you’d been expecting.

As soon as you walked into the room, he glanced up, beckoning you closer almost frantically. With a small smile, you held up a finger, signaling to wait for just one moment. You slipped out of the dress you’d been donning, and pulled off the shoes as well, the heels having made your feet ache anyways.

You used some basic wipes to get any makeup off, deciding that the more complicated cleansing process would be left for the morning, and promptly pulled some pajamas on, finally walking over to the bed, and being pulled in.

Within seconds, you were under the covers, and softly laughing at how he hooked one arm around the back of your neck, pulling you gently into where your head was against his chest, and intertwining his legs with yours. The scruff of his slightly unshaven face scratched lightly against you as he rubbed and nuzzled into you unashamedly, peppering a few little kisses on you while he was at it.

“Clingy,”

You murmured teasingly, and he frowned for a moment, raising a brow as if to call you a hypocrite, and you hummed lightly for a moment in thought.

“Touché.”

You said to his silent response, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose, before finally settling in and getting comfortable against his body. Within a few minutes, the both of you were yawning, sleep pulling both of you slowly under as the rhythm of your breathing deepened.

[theresatzu]

Blue Lock Characters and going camping

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Pairings. Blue Lock character x reader

Characters. Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Reo, Nagi & Barou

Tags. Fluff, crack, camping

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Isagi Yoichi

-> Two loving parents and no trauma? This man definitely has camped before.

-> You can count on Isagi to know the ins and outs of setting up a tent, he's got that tent standing within ten minutes.

-> He'll definitely bring a football with him, or insist that you'd do some activities together. Because this man cannot sit still.

-> I'll just know that he'll try to optimise his time with you while camping. The one day taking a nice stroll through the woods and the other day going swimming.

-> He definitely likes it old-school. As in, roasting marshmallows above a mellow fire to star gazing on the grass.

In conclusion:

Isagi is big on traditional camping. He will insist on sleeping in the tent on inflatable mattresses because that's how he has always done it with his parents, and this way, you'll be able to get the best camping experience in his opinion.

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Itoshi Rin

-> This man makes everything a competition. Thus, Rin will be the one who's the fastest in setting up a tent.

-> Rin will decline any help, for sure, even when he clearly struggles. All in all, setting up the tent will take longer than necessary, but it'll be sturdy.

-> The sort of activities Rin would enjoy would probably be like scaling mountains, cycling, playing football (obviously), and swimming. There is no moment that he isn't driving his body to the ground.

-> Even though it's a holiday, Rin will continue to stick to his regimented schedule. Eating healthy food, yoga at an exact time, and sleeping before eleven, it'll be just like at home.

In conclusion:

Going camping with Rin will probably be more physically demanding than your regular week, but you can say for sure that you had a fulfilling time.

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Bachira Meguru

-> Setting up a tent with this man is near impossible. Bachira will incessantly try to sabotage the construction or just stand at the sidelines, giggling like a maniac at your struggling.

-> This man is also big on roasting smores, but Bachira will enjoy shopping or going to markets, too.

-> Going on a holiday with Bachira is a sure recipe for disaster, though. He'll probably accidentally tear the tent or forget the electric pump for the beds, so be the one who is prepared!

In conclusion:

A holiday with Bachira is definitely memorable. The question is, is the good or the bad one? However, you can count on Bachira to keep things never boring. It'll be one big adventure with a lot of fun chaos.

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Mikage Reo

-> Mister I'm Good At Everything is also good at camping.

-> Reo will have that tent standing within ten minutes, equipped with the newest luxury appliances, such as an airco or a built-in fridge.

-> Reo is a sucker for camping in style, so you can be assured that he has packed everything and more. From matching camping outfits to a sun-powered tea kettle.

-> Camping with Reo means doing a high variety of activities. Beach volleyball up to disco swimming. You'll do everything that's possible.

In conclusion:

Camping with Reo is camping with style, so much so that it's debatable if it's actually camping when his tent will contain devices an average household won't even think of having. But if you want an affluent holiday, Reo's the man to go to.

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Nagi Seishiro

-> He's the complete antithesis of Mikage Reo. Nagi does not know how to set up a tent.

-> Nagi will probably stand on the side while you set up the tent, doing a grand total of... nothing.

-> Nagi doesn't know what to pack, so you'll likely miss a lot of essentials.

-> If the others were brimming with ideas for activities, Nagi would suggest staying in the tent and sleeping all day.

In conclusion:

If you want a really laid-back holiday, camping with Nagi is a commendable recommendation. Even though you don't do much, you can say for sure that you'll be well-rested at the end of it.

------------------《▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎》--------------------

Barou Shouei

-> This man is rigid. Barou wants that tent set up fast, but in the best possible way.

-> Everything is neatly put away, ranging from your clothes being evenly folded, to the lamps radiating just the right amount of light.

-> Maybe setting up a tent with Barou takes up a lot of time, but the end result is definitely worth it.

-> Because Barou wants to do everything as the best, he'll want to absolutely dominate the typical camping activities. Swimming? Ha, he's got those five kilometres in the bag. Barbecuing? Expect those perfectly crispy chicken skewers to taste absolutely ravishing.

In conclusion:

Camping with Barou is old-fashioned, but he'll account for anything. He'll be the person who is prepared for everything. A mattress leak? He has a spare. No food? He's got the canned tomatoes in the bag.

------------------《▪︎□▪︎□▪︎□▪︎》--------------------

Masterlist

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

older brother touya au, quirk training is mentioned but no quirk mentioned for reader, abusive todoroki household, endeavous is a piece of shit, angst, kinda rough hyper fem reader (you push shouto at one point), lmk if i missed sum else !!

shouto, lately, has been showing up to school with bandages on his arms. and touya knows others find that weird.

for a while now, their father’s training had been more grueling than ever. touya recognizes it in the sounds of screaming and pillars breaking and the coughing of his younger brother as he holds back a sob. not like you could hear it over the sound of enji todoroki’s booming voice yelling at him to get up anyways.

touya recognizes himself from before he was deemed a failure. he recognizes the coughs and wheezes but he thinks his were slightly different from shouto. his tiredness left him sore and unresponsive, complaining about muscular pains that touya never complained about himself. maybe because he ignored them until they were too painful to bear, all to please his father. to be his perfect creation.

but he isn’t, shouto is. and the boy doesn’t like it one bit.

his little brother comes to him most nights sniffling, clinging to him and pleading for touya to let him stay the night in his room. and he always says yes, of course he will, cus he’s his little brother. who’s just a little weird, but who he cares about deeply.

shouto sniffles about how he doesn’t like training with father, how he wishes he could spend time with his older siblings again instead. touya’s eyebrows furrow and he squeezes his brother harder. because he doesn’t like it either.

“if dad ever pisses you off, you can come to me, yeah ? i’ll be there.” shouto chastises him for swearing as he calls it, but touya doesn’t care, cus it made his little brother giggle a little even though he barely does. and it makes him chuckle too.

he remembers what training with his dad felt like when he still had potential. he remembers it was kind of like a father son experience. his dad would look at him proudly when he managed to pull off a new move, praising him in the only way he knew how to and encouraging him to keep aiming higher, to make his fire burn stronger. that he’d even surpass him.

but then the burning started to hurt. then the training started happening less often, and when it did it more desperate than anything. nothing was ever good, he had to keep pushing, keep burning. harder, stronger and faster. because he needed to surpass him.

it didn’t feel like a father son anything after that, it wasn’t fun and his body hurt. but the sudden change in demeanor was jarring, he remembers. it hurts to remember how his father had gone from this to simply just..giving up on him. but he thinks it must be horrible for shouto to immediately go through the tyrant that is endeavor at such a young age, rather than at least liking it at first like touya had.

of course he wouldn’t like it, touya doesn’t like it either.

“sho, i think we should get married.”

shouto’s laying on the grass with you when you suddenly speak to him. his eyes widen just a bit and when he turns his head to question you, you’re smiling like the sun. he likes that about you.

“why ?”

you jump up, leaning over him a bit, everything else is blocked out but you, shouto thinks he prefers it that way.

“cuuuuuz,” you sing “it’d be fun, right ?”

“to get married ?” you nod. shouto blinks at you. and when he keeps looking you shyly look away.

he figures you’re somewhat right, though. in the movies he watches with fuyumi, people seem to have a lot of fun during weddings, they seem happy. shouto wants to be happy with you, as simple as that, so he responds with the first thing that comes to mind.

“okay.”

and if he thought you were the sun before, he’s proven wrong immediately because the smile you send him blinds him. he hopes you’ll smile like that again every single day, it’d make him happy. you squeal and pull him up to you to squeeze him tight, the sudden move hurts a bit, but he doesn’t mind. it doesn’t hurt like his father does and it’s you, so he doesn’t mind and let’s you squeeze him to your hearts content.

“we’re engaged now, then !” you tell him, “so that means your my fiancé. when we’re grown ups, i’ll ask you again, okay ?” you ask giddily, you stand up because you can’t stand still anymore and you pull him along with you. shouto readjusts your fingers so he’s holding onto your pinky (he likes it that way) and he nods. “okay,” he answers again.

natsu-nii told him that he should speak more once, because people think that one word answers are rude sometimes. but he doesn’t like talking to people, and he doesn’t care if they think he’s rude and you get so happy when he speaks to you. you’re the only person he wants to talk to and you’re happy, so why should that bother him ?

shouto can’t wait until he’s a grown up. he’s sure when he’s a grown up, he won’t have to listen to his dad all the time, he’ll be stronger and will be able to fight back. but now, he can’t wait to be a grown up so you can get married for real.

apparently, shouto’s getting pulled out of school.

he hears touya angrily talking with his nanny about him. they can’t see him from where he's hiding behind the door. shouto can't remember a time where his older brother had sounded so mad, not even when he gets mad at him for being a brat. touya always seemed the angriest when their father was involved.

he keeps swearing, calling something bullshit. but shouto realises that if he gets pulled out of school, he won't be seeing you anymore.

so, just to be sure. when training is over and his father has ordered him to patch himself up, he asks.

"are you going to pull me out of school ?"

shouto holds back a flinch when his father stops in his tracks and turns to look at him slightly. all he responds with is "who told you ?" shouto only shrugs. enji stays quiet before finally responding.

"it's what's best for you. you are meant to surpass me."

shouto doesn't like talking to his father, it makes him nervous. he misses when his mom was here to comfort him, to tell him it was okay to be scared sometimes. shouto picks at his bandages, his mom had told him to stop one time, because it makes them come loose. but he's nervous.

"but..i have to got to school.." he utters quietly, he clenches his fist to keep it from shaking. "i'll get you a teacher." his father responds easily, he doesn't understand. shouto bites his lip.

"but..my friend at school.." shouto keeps his eyes to the floor, he knows his father is looking down at him and he doesn't want to look back. "yn..will wanna know where i am..'cus she wants to get married.."

enji todoroki huffs loudly, grumbling to himself. "what do you know about marriage.." he scoffs, and he keeps it at that. walking off and before he slides the door shut, he reminds shouto to patch himself up.

shouto doesn't jump when the door slams. and now that he thinks about it he doesn't know much about marriage.

"i don't think we should get married anymore."

you're usually always talking, shouto likes that about you. but now you just blink at him.

"..what ?"

you're always smiling at him, shouto likes that about you. but now you're frowning at him.

shouto swallows, it feels hard to "i don't want to get married anymore."

you're frowning at him, it's hard to swallow. you like sitting on the swings with him, and shouto likes that you taught him to go on it by himself, but he thinks he's ruined it for you now.

"why not ?"

you sound sad, shouto doesn't like it. he wants you to be happy all the time. but he won't be able to go to school soon, he won't see you anymore. and that'd make you even more sad. he doesn't know what else to do.

shouto can't bring himself to respond because he doesn't have a reason. he wants to be with you, he wants to hold your pinky and he wants to marry you. he wants you to smile at him so hard it blinds him. but he doesn't know anything about marriage. besides what he's seen on tv and from his own mom and dad. and his mom doesn't live at home anymore, because his dad had sent her away. when you get married you have fun and you're happy but his mom never was. you're always happy and he doesn't want you to be sad like his mom was, because you're the nicest person in the world.

so he just shrugs. natsu-nii had told him that people would find that rude once, and he thinks maybe he should've listened. you abruptly get up and stand in front of him. he looks up at you and wishes he'd never had because you look so sad. you want him to think you're angry, but he can tell with you.

"so you lied to me ?"

he wants to say no, because he doesn't mean it. but in your mind he probably did, he looks away. he can't look at you anymore because your lip is wobbling like you want to cry. angrily, you push at his shoulder, shouto trains with his father almost every day, he has the bandages under his sweater to prove it. but this hurts so much more.

"i hate liars !" you yell at him, shouto's never heard you yell besides that one time you'd punched tanaka in the face and ended up at the nurses office. you push him again and your voice is wobbly when you tell him you hate him before you run away. you're leaving without him. shouto can't move from where he's still slightly swinging on the swing. he doesn't like it anymore, but he can't go anywhere, because you're not holding onto his pinky and he can't readjust it to hold yours better.

shouto feels colder suddenly now that you're away, but he can't move as he grips the bars of the swing tighter and his lip wobbles.

touya, for the first time in a while, sees his brother come back home completely clean. and extremely sad.

i didn't want to end this part so sadly but i couldn't help myself yall im sorry, i hope yall still love me !!!

[yourislandgirl]

*:ꔫ:*ₓₒ LEMON DROP LIPS ˚ ༘♡ੈ✩ || 리키 x fem!reader || drabble

— KISS ME, DON’T SAY NO series

summary: enlisting the help of your boyfriend, you had a goal of completing your biology assignment well in advance, wanting to get back in your teachers good graces, and thanks to riki’s support, the task didn’t feel so impossible, a little sour for sure, but manageable

genres: fluff, romance, non-idol!riki x non-idol!reader, est. relationship

warnings: ni-ki is referred to as "riki", attempts at humour, swearing/cursing, brat boyfriend rikimura, standard high school student stress (i think i write stressed academics a bit too often . oh well)

wc: 2.8k

[archive]

“Why would you subject yourself to biology?”

You shrugged at the question.

But it was an assignment from that very class that had both you and your boyfriend at your local park hunting for flowers. The afternoon sunlight was slowly dipping lower and a gentle breeze swayed amongst the grass around your ankles. After carefully closing the lid of your lip balm and tucking it into your jacket pocket, you crouched down beside your boyfriend and took your biology question booklet out of his hands.

“Because,” you started, “I needed a science subject to close out my timetable and Miss Hwang said that bio had more visual learning and there were more hands-on experiments that we could do, so— Wait, why am I even explaining this to you? Dig!”

You nudged Riki with your shoulder, ignoring his groans as you flipped through the question booklet, making sure you’d found the right flower specimen.

Dissecting flora and delving into the horticulture topic was fascinating but equally a challenge. At the start, it included a lot of labelling and diagrams, and then it became more fun when your teacher brought in the bouquets — you and your friends got side tracked in class and started researching the language of flowers.

Riki had even started to take an interest when you talked about your lessons, sitting in the art room with him while he sketched.

Presently, as you pulled your phone out to take down a few notes, you smiled at the little doodle he did of carnation flowers that you’d placed in your phone case.

“They mean love, or something,” he’d muttered as he handed the sketch to you.

“Or something,” you’d muttered back before kissing him on the cheek.

more under cut !!

You shook your head, smiling at the memory while you closed your notes app and opened the camera instead. “Alright, here, take this.” Handing the phone to Riki, you chose to do the actual extraction yourself.

You grabbed the base of the stem and started to tug at it gently. Maybe a little too gently.

The seconds passed by and the stem moved just under a centimetre before Riki finally lost his patience and sighed a little. “Just pluck it.”

You shot him a small, harmless glare to which he replied with his tongue poking out but he remained in place ready to snap the photo.

“Riki, I need the root system as well.”

His expression soured. “I hate your teacher.”

“She hates you too. Go write a diss track about it later.”

You heard him chuckle quietly, your cheeks heating up at the sound.

It took you a few moments to brace yourself through it but eventually, you pulled out the flower, roots and all, and held in your hands as if it was a delicate angels feather. The sigh of relief that left your lips was nothing compared to the groan from Riki when he stood up after finally taking the photo.

“Ugh, my ankles are killing me.” He rolled his head back and clicked the joints in his neck and shoulders while he talked.

You felt a little bad for him but you needed the help. And in all honesty, Riki took better photos than you. The angle, the lighting, it all looked better when he was holding the camera. You used to think there was some secret to it but you quickly came to realise he just had an eye for beauty and composition that no one else had.

You loved the photo, immediately emailing it to yourself so you’d have it on your laptop. When you turned your gaze back up at Riki, he was resting his hands behind his head, eyes drooping a little.

You smirked. “Aw is Shnookums tired?” Reaching forward, your tried to poke his cheek before he gently swatted you away.

Your smile only grew at the sight of how Riki pinched the bridge of his nose, it seemed the memory of such a flattering childhood nicknames was an unwelcome one. “Stop, that was one time.” As he turned to walk further into the park, you could almost hear Riki chuckle as you hurried to catch up to him.

“I don’t know Shnookie,” your voice was torturously teasing, “The home videos your sister showed me say a different story.”

“God the next time I see her…”

Laughter blossomed out of you. Reaching for his hand, you continued to explore the local park’s flora and compare it to the required specimens needed for your biology class.

You’d carefully bagged each flower in a zip lock and handed them to Riki to slide into a folder before placing it in your backpack. Your little system of discovery, extraction, documentation and storage was going well, and you’d just about finished the list with only three remaining specimens left.

“Ok, I say we wrap it up for the day.” Riki got up from his crouched position for the seventh time in the afternoon, stretching every joint carefully, waiting for you to get up as well. Your jacket was slung over his shoulder like a towel, his own makeshift neck pillow.

“Uh…” You remained huddled on the grass, fingers flipping through the biology booklet.

“Y/N?” You looked up, seeing Riki’s expectant gaze, his hand outstretched ready to help you up. “Let’s go, I can walk you home.”

“I think I’m gonna stay a little longer. I can get my mum to pick me up, don’t worry.”

Asking Riki not to worry was like asking him to immediately start panicking, because both resulted in the same outcome. His eyebrows would furrow, his shoulder would tense up, his only goal would be to understand why and what he could do to help.

“I don’t understand,” he reached for your hand, pulling you up with ease, wanting to speak to you at eye level, or, somewhat-eye-level. “This isn’t due until after the weekend. You’ve got time to do this, you can take a break for now. Right?”

You gripped the booklet in your other hand a little tighter.

“Y/N, hey, it’s ok to take a break.”

You puffed out a breath, blowing some stray hairs off your cheeks. “I know that,” you mused. “I just need to do this now. I think… It could make Miss Hwang happy, that’s all.”

Riki’s frown turned from concern to judgement so fast, you’d miss the transition if you blinked. “Ok, what? Who gives a fuck what she thinks?”

“My parents, my report card, my scholarship applications, my—”

“I get it.”

He subtly reached for your wrist, his fingers gentle as they slide down your palm and interlocked with yours.

The silence was anticipatory. The kind where you could feel his questions churning inside by the way his thumb tapped against the back of your hand. It was the kind of silence where you felt his gaze on you a few times as if waiting for you to break the quiet and initiate some conversation.

Riki liked having answer, that much you knew. But you also knew that he’d never force them out of you.

Maybe that’s why it was easier to talk to him more than anyone else.

“Miss Hwang held me and a few others back in class last week.”

Riki slowed down his pace a little, frowning as he recollected the past week. “Hang on, you said you had extra bio work to do.”

“I did,” you shrugged. “I was doing it while she held me back. I, um…”

The hesitation on your face made Riki frown a little deeper, his lips pouting just enough to alleviate your mood that littlest bit. He really did not like that woman, and for what it was worth, that amused you deeply.

Enough to admit the reason with a shy smirk, “She may have seen me texting you while my friends and I did buzzfeed quizzes.”

He scoffed, his head tipping back with a sigh, the mental image of you, his high achieving girlfriend, wasting class time? “Buzzfeed? Really?”

Your eyes lit up with a simmering annoyance that you’d been harbouring for days. “We finished the class work! She was being so petty!”

“She is petty.”

You sighed, “She’s not horrible. Just, I don’t know, strict?”

Shrugging, Riki led you to a park bench to take a seat. “Lovingly, don’t care. Not a fan.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you leaned back onto the cool wood of the park bench, “I need to make her a fan of me again. I really don’t want to lose the favour of a teacher like her ya know?”

Riki merely gave you a blank expression before conceding, “Yeah, ‘kay.”

Wordlessly, he pulled your jacket off his shoulders and dropped it on your lap before taking the biology booklet out of your hands. He started flipping through.

You raised an eyebrow at his actions but quickly became distracted by the sheer concentration on his face.

It was the same face he wore when making sure he had every material needed before painting. Or when he was making sure he’d followed the rule of thirds during a preliminary canvas sketch. He had a precision to his perspective that you could not find in another person.

He only further proved your point by putting an arm over your shoulder and bringing you closer so that you could read along with him. He muttered under his breath about how many samples you’d collected, how many double ups you’d found, the general locations and other areas you could try in the park before it got too dark.

“You want to finish this by the end of the week right? Submit it early?” He didn’t wait for an answer before getting off the bench, taking you with him, his hand holding yours once again. “I’d say we’ve got fifteen more minutes before the street lights turn on.”

He turned to face you again. “We might have to come back tomorrow, babe. I’m sorry.” Pressing a soft kiss on your temple, Riki pulled his phone out to text his sister, asking her to come pick you both up. When he looked back up, Riki halted at the sight of your smile.

“You’re not upset?”

“What?” You hadn’t realised you’d been smiling. Shaking your head to compose yourself, you breathed out a nervous laugh, “Right. No, I’m not. I just… Thank you.”

You smiled wider at his confusion, spurring him to smile back, no less confused than before. At that moment the weight of Miss Hwang’s expectations didn’t matter. Your drive to please her regulated into a drive to please yourself.

As you slowly pulled Riki back to the park bench to sit next you, the simmering urge to submit early started to dissipate. Of course you knew it would come back again tomorrow morning, and you were prepared for that. But maybe Riki had a point, you could afford to take a break.

You’d made excellent progress, and with his help tomorrow, you’d have this assignment completed well before the due date, exactly as planned.

The street lights started to flicker to life, burning their midnight oil, unlike you, who’d chosen to preserve yours.

“You okay?” Riki’s voice was low, lower than a whisper. He still wore an expression of confusion but it had morphed into intrigue, enchantment — he didn’t need to know why you thanked him, he just needed to make sure whatever he did, he’d keep doing it.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you whispered back. “I guess sometimes it hits different, knowing that I’ve got people in my corner, rooting for me and doing whatever they can to help me succeed. Even if the prize isn’t anything special.”

Riki smirked, “In your own words, an A+ is better than a winning lottery ticket.” He pulled you closer once again, the feeling of his arm draped over your shoulder was a welcomed comfort, a familiar warmth.

Even his teasing was welcomed; “That is a foul sentiment, by the way. Who taught you something so illogical? Let me at ‘em.”

You giggled at his dramatics. “I was being sarcastic.”

“I should hope so.”

Riki’s thumb drew small circles into your shoulder, his head dropping down to rest on top of yours. “Seriously, though. You don’t need to thank me for this. Of course I’d help you.”

Your cheeks felt like they were in bloom, lip quirking up as you spoke. “Even though you hate Miss Hwang?”

“Especially because I hate Miss Hwang,” he scoffed, sitting up a little to face you, the glint in his eyes like a fire cracker just looking for trouble.

“Think about it,” he started, “What better way is there to get back at that witch?” He pulled your biology booklet out once more, flipping through the pages speedily, as if to show just how much you’d completed in one afternoon.

“She’s gonna have to give you the top mark, and her knowing that you’re my girl just makes it better.”

You gasped, mockingly. “You petty little—”

“Listen sweets, if there’s anyone that I want succeeding, it’s you.” His arm found its place over your shoulder once more, this time pulling you into the warmth between his collar and neck.

“My support shouldn’t be a shock, it’s a given,” he said, softly.

You breathed in his scent, a little musky coupled with the slight smell of acrylic paint. Pursing your lips, biting back another smile, you turned to gaze up at him.

He glanced down. “What?”

You hummed a noncommittal tone, “You just look very kissable right now.”

It was amusing to witness, the way Riki’s gentle expression morphed into a boyish grin. “Well not to brag but, I fear I just wake up looking kissable.”

“Mhm.”

He nodded, “Honestly, go ahead, feel how kissable my lips are.” Just to prove his point, he puckered them up for you dramatically.

Nudging him in the ribs lightly, you leaned away in faux disgust. “Shut up.”

“Oh come on,” he grabbed your wrist, “I even used your lip balm.”

Your smile dropped, brows furrowing instantly.

Riki halted, verbally backpedaling “Wait, I mean—”

“You used my limited edition lemon drop lip balm?!”

“…No?”

You hands patted frantically against your jacket that was rested on your lap, feeling each of the pockets and finding no small plastic tube of citrusy softness.

Your gaze locked with your boyfriend’s, who’d already gotten off the bench and started walking away hastily.

“Riki!” You followed after him, both of you speeding into a jog, then a run, then a sprint.

Riki’s deep laughter resounded the local park, every other passerby with a dog or on a walk had turned to look at the scene that bolted past them.

You groaned, feeling yourself slowing down. “Stop running!”

“Stop chasing!” He yelled over his shoulder, turning slightly to see your speed reduce, causing him to do the same.

He kept a decent distance from you, hands up in surrender. Well, one hand open. The other was in a fist, his large palm could have been hiding anything but you had an inkling to what was inside.

“Got it right here,” he declared, smugly. Your beloved lip balm.

You stalked closer, before lunging forward to reach his hand. A failed attempt, of course. as he simply lifted it higher. “When did you even take it? Give it back!”

Your hands went to his ribs, aiming to tickle him into submission but he quickly dodged you, circling around, his free hand on your shoulder to hold you at arms length.

“Give me a kiss first!” His eyes were alight, sparked with love, cloaked with mischief.

You shook your head, your own grin was involuntary at that point. “Riki, I swear—”

“Nope.” He leaned forward, his empty hand snaking around your waist and pulling you closer. “My name’s not Riki, it’s Shnookums. Now hold still and you’ll get your lip balm.”

You fidgeted out of his grip, determined to hold off on kissing him until you got your limited edition. “Fine.” Your hand was held out, palm open for the trade.

Riki unfurled his fist, an empty hand grasped yours and pulled you into him, his own lips locking onto yours.

Any semblance of stubborn determination was immediately dissolved against the taste of lemon meringue and citrusy zest that met your tongue.

The flavour faltered your thoughts, leaving you a blinking, blushing mess as Riki pulled away.

“Is that enough lip balm for you?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, taking a couple steps back.

You jutted your lip out, deep in pretend-thought. “I might need more, funnily enough.”

You giggled at his expression. “Hilarious.”

a.n: FINAL INSTALMENT OF THE KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO SERIES IS HERE AHHHHH — i hope you all enjoyed the ride and i've got so many more drafts just itching to be posted but anyway, thank yoouuuu xx <3

taglist: @oceanstide — @sheepsgf — @itsrinsdrs — @enjakey — @rynnest

2025 © yourislandgirl

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Mine

Luke Castellan x Reader

Requested by: @officiallenalove like imagine the reader is like a daughter of Poseidon and we know he’s not around most of the time and she meets Luke and they like fall in love but she’s never known what healthy love looks like so it’s low key angsty but happy at the same time yk?

Summary: "You are the best thing that's ever been mine"

Warning: crappy parents, angst, self doubt

Word Count: 2k

Masterlist

A/N Sorry this took so long I had a hard time choosing which lyrics/moments I wanted to write

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

Godly parents were always deadbeats. It was just a fact of half-blood life. But after spending years thinking I had no father, I was thrilled to have been claimed by Poseidon. It was naïve of me to think that just because he claimed me he’d be a good father just because I knew of his existence. I spent night after night praying to him, looking for some sense of guidance from him but never receiving anything. Eventually I learned not to bother with him or anyone else.

My mom had let me down enough times that I knew it wasn’t just gods that let you down. When she finally told me about my father she told me I’d be moving to a strange place. Not for my safety but because she didn’t want to take care of the daughter of the god that broke her heart. She complained endlessly on the drive over that my father never even bothered to offer her immortality, rather last she heard of him he was falling in love with another woman on Long Island.

She was dead to me after she dumped me at camp with hardly a goodbye. And then my father was dead to me when I begged for his help but received nothing.

~

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' / Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

Most of the other campers felt the same about their godly parents but it seemed like the only one who really understood was Luke.

“I mean, it’s like we’re nothing to them,” Luke ranted to me. We rant to each other a lot. “We’re just byproducts of their mistakes.”

“Gods, I hate men,” I groaned, lying back in the grass of the green. “Are all fathers this shitty?” I asked, looking up at Luke. I squinted into the sun as I peered at him accusingly. He moved his hand to block the sun from my eyes.

“I wouldn’t know from personal experience but I wouldn’t be this shitty,” he smiled cheekily down at me. He moved to lay back too, resting on his elbow. “I’d never abandon you.”

I could feel my chest tighten and I hoped it wasn’t apparent on my face. I just laughed, gently pushing his chest in a playful manner, hoping I was sparing him any embarrassment by making him think I thought he was joking. “You wish. You’d probably leave once the first diaper change comes.” I couldn’t even begin to consider loving him—or anyone—enough to feel abandoned by him. Thanks to my parents I felt more than enough abandonment.

He gave me a forced laugh as I sat up. “Yeah probably. I’d just be the fun dad.”

~

Do you remember, we were sittin' there by the water? / You put your arm around me for the first time

Later that day I found myself sitting on the beach of the Long Island Sound. The ocean was always sort of a sore spot for me because it was just a reminder of my father but it still felt calming. Like I belonged despite my father’s indifference.

As I stared out into the sound, zoning out, I let my mind wander to the conversation I had with Luke. That wasn’t the first time he had tried to hint at his feelings and he was a great guy but I couldn’t trust him. I didn’t have faith that he—or anyone for that matter—wouldn’t just let me down. How could I trust I wouldn’t let him down.

I was interrupted from my thoughts by the man himself. “Hey, can we talk?” he asked, coming to stand next to me. I just wordlessly gestured for him to sit next to me. He complied, taking a few breaths before looking at me. “I’m just gonna come right out and day it: I like you,” he rushed. “You don’t have to like me back or anything but I need to know that you know.”

I stared at him, my mouth agape. I hadn’t expected his boldness. “Um…” I had to take a second to structure my thoughts. “Luke, you’re a great guy. Any girl would be lucky to have you but you don’t want me.”

“Actually, I do I just said it,” he chuckled, trying to release some tension.

I laughed with him. “No, I mean I don’t think I can give you what you want. I’m not the best with feelings and I’m not entirely convinced that you, and everyone else in my life, won’t just leave me when it’s convenient.”

“Hey,” Luke chided gently, throwing an arm over my shoulder to bring me closer, “I meant what I said I'm not gonna abandon you. And if you’re scared, that’s fine, we can take this slow. If you really just don’t want a relationship that’s fine. I’ll still be by your side no matter what.”

Tears pricked my eyes at how thoughtful and caring he was being. Fortunately he couldn’t see them because my head was resting on his shoulder. “Okay,” I agreed, “I want to try taking things slow with you.” His grip on me tightened as he held me a little closer, like he was so excited you just have to squeeze something.

~

Braced myself for the goodbye / 'Cause that's all I've ever known

Things were great for a few months. Every time I began to doubt our relationship, Luke was there to help me. Giving me constant assurances and telling me how much he loved me. So much so that I started to feel like a burden to him. Like I was just a task he had to get through every week.

“Hey,” Luke announced his presence as he entered my cabin, “I haven’t seen you all day, what’s up?” he asked, looking around the cabin.

“J-just a second!” I called from a storage closet. I quickly wiped my tears and steeled myself, willing myself to look normal. Realizing he’d be wondering why I was in the closet, I grabbed a random blanket from one of the shelves. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out of the closet with a smile. “Hey.”

His face immediately dropped. “What’s wrong?”

Curse my puffy eyes. “Nothing,” I answered. He approached me but I just slid past him, dropping the blanket onto my bunk. “Why?”

“Your eyes are all red. What’s wrong?” he asked again. Once again trying to touch me but I just backed away.

“Must be dust or something in the closet,” I tried to dismiss.

His face hardened. “C’mon, Y/N I know something’s wrong. I don’t want you to hide things from me. I want to take care of you.”

At his words the dam broke and all the thoughts and feelings I had been dealing with bubbled over. “I don't want you to have to take care of me!” A look of hurt appeared on his face and my heart ached for him. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, I do. I just don’t think it’s fair to you to have to comfort me whenever anything little happens. It’s pathetic,” I spat at myself.

“Hey, no, you’re not pathetic,” Luke assured me.

“You’re not listening to me,” I insisted. “How can you possibly want to be with me when I do nothing but drain you?” I stared at him, waiting for him to realize that I was a leech and leave for his own sake. But instead, he just looked endeared.

“Y/N, you are the best thing that’s ever been mine. I don’t want you to ever think that you’re a burden to me. I love you and I love that I'm the one who brings you comfort. So please, just let me love you.”

My resolve broke and I went to him, letting Luke pull me into his chest. “What did I do to deserve you?” I cried into the warmth of his chest.

“I ask myself the same,” he returned, pressing a kiss to my head.

Masterlist

[the-mountain-flower]

I just realize there's a lot of potential with Dainix reacting to the wildlife outside of the desert.

Like, his primary expertise is in monsters/creatures that pose a danger to ppl, especially ones from the desert. He probably never had reason to (or even many resources for) learning about most non-desert lifeforms before.

I'm saying I wanna see him encounter smn and having to figure out if this is a Dangerous Thing or Harmless If You Leave It Alone. Which plants are fine if you brush against them like grass and which ones to avoid as much as possible like poison ivy. Suspicious of creatures that look like smn deadly but are actually fairly harmless. Or not recognizing the signs of a specific animal nearby and having to fight smn twice his size with little to no warning. Overall needing to be hyper-vigilant of basically everything bc he's in extremely unfamiliar territory.

Do you think that when he joined the Floof Squad he was probably super relieved to have allies that were used to the environment and could help fill him in on what to look out for? That not only would he be on a team again and therefore survival would be much easier, but also that they'd be willing to help him with the process of adapting to the setting? Like his discussion with Erin about Helm, but with what they'd consider normal animals stuff. Add in some friendly teasing when he reflexively points his spear at a creature only to find out it's completely harmless but hey in his defense it looks almost exactly like a monster he's fought that spits venom at its targets' eyes, and you've got so much fun stuff to explore in that part of the dynamic.

Idk I just love exploring Dainix's experiences adapting to outside the desert (as anyone who's read The Exiled And The Outcast can tell lol) and it's something that I think has the potential to be really interesting and cool :)

[bluemerakis]

POV:

You’re dating Karl Urban and the two of you go on holiday with some friends to a farm/ranch and post lots of pictures about the whole experience while simultaneously hard-launching your relationship.

This was SO fun to do ahhh 😭❤️ all credits to my bby @gibson-g1rl for being such a massive inspiration to make a SMAU. Enjoy your cameos 😭😭

All likes and reblogs greatly appreciated! Enjoy it my lovelies <3

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karlurban some days you just gotta take a last minute trip with your mates , cheers !

Yeehaw here we come 🤠

3 days ago

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youruser lover ❤️

karlurban @/youruser oi love ! ❤️❤️

theboysfanpage @/youruser LOVER???

jensenackles sweet!

jeffreydeanmorgan you two deserve some time away…. enjoy the views and horse shit xxxx

jdmsarchive @/jeffreydeanmorgan y’all isn’t this man so dreamy and poetic 😭

jacklesdaily @/jdmsarchive we love a vulgar poet 😍

karlurbanssock IM CRYING WHO IS THIS GIRL WITH MY MAN???!

gibson-g1rl @/karlurbanssock girl which asylum worker gave you a phone lmfao?

youruser @/gibson-g1rl PLS 😭😭

randomfanpage I feel sick so sick rn 🫠 karl sweety how could you do this to us???

fangirl10101 this is so cute omg 😭❤️❤️

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Youruser road trips, songs and kisses! So blessed to go on a rendezvous with my fav people

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3 days ago

gibson-g1rl girl why didn’t you invite me???

Youruser @/gibson-g1rl not my fault you and J had something going on 🙄 (hoes before bros boo!)

karlurban ❤️🙏🏽

youruser @/karlurban can’t believe you gave me the finger 🙄

karlurban @/youruser don’t I always ? 😉

karlsgirl29 @/karlurban AYOOO?

internetitgirl17 OMG YOU AND DAD KARL???!!

youruser @/internetgirl17 somebody has to keep his bed warm 🤭

wehearturban @/youruser um that was supposed to be me 😑

gibson-g1rl @/wehearturban um in your dreams maybe?? go touch some grass 🤣🤣

randomfangirl10101 we lost y’all 😔💔💔 his gf is so gorgeous though 😍

randomblogger the damn shirt pic 😩😩😩 keep us fed girl!!!

karlslady omg I found her insta @/bestieboo

bestieboo @/karlslady she’s stunning wtf

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karlurban first night spent around the fire 🔥 got a few good stories goin and snuck in a bit of a dance… I love these fellas ❤️

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3 days ago

youruser this man has moves y’all

karlurban @/youruser you reckon I should start a class ? 👀

cutiepie163 @/karlurban I VOLUNTEER! I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE

jeffreydeanmorgan man… seems like a heck of a fun time, enjoy it brother! xxxx

karlurban @/jeffreydeanmorgan sipping a chilly beer for the both of us ! 🍻🙏🏽

internetitgirl17 God I see what you’ve done for others 😭😭😭

randomuser1199 @/internetitgirl17 punching air rn

pinkheartslover oh to be y/n dancing with Karl Urban around a fire…

randomgirl THE FOURTH PIC HELLO??? 💔💔💔

wehearturban I wanna be part of this friend group so bad sigh

kissmekarl @/wehearturban omg I wish ☹️☹️

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youruser fed the horses first thing in the morning then went out for a sunrise ride 😍

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2 days ago

certifiedbundleofsticks all those horses holy shit!!! I hope you’re having a great time :]

youruser @/certifiedbundleofsticks ily ❤️❤️

mamilover12 saddle me next 😩

hellosunshine588 @/mamilover12 I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON? 😭😭

jensenackles horse

gibson-g1rl @/jensenackles great observation dumbass 😭

jensenackles @/gibson-g1rl smartass hater ❤️

randomfan you’re so cool

pleasekarlnoticeme the 8th pic… 😍😍😍 so romantic!

randomblogger I need to be that hay bale in the first pic

karlurbanfangirl I can neigh…

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karlurban what a day ! 🥵 Lugged around some hay bales before a long ride through the bushes with my girl… ended the day all dirty and sweaty before having a good grill 🔥🍖

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2 days ago

youruser third pic aye papi 🤭

karlurban @/youruser 🥵🥵🥵

wehearturban @/karlurban I HAVE A TOWEL

pinkmissus @/wehearturban girl he doesn’t want you

jeffreydeanmorgan pulled out the good ol’ grill 😎 love to see it man xxx

karlurban @/jeffreydeanmorgan cheers, been too long ! 🔥🍻 y/n enjoyed it a lot .

internetitgirl17 omg the first pic is so cute ❤️ LOVE LOVE LOVE!

youruser @/internetitgirl17 😘😘😘

ilovedilfs082 I need them both

randomblogger crying this post is so cute but I’m so heartbroken 🥲

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youruser some personal time with my lover man, his board and the fluffy best friend ❤️

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6 hours ago

karlurban killed those diabolical waves 😎🌊🏄

youruser @/karlurban and they almost killed you back 😭😭

karlurban @/youruser oi ! Not a word about that…

jeffreydeanmorgan looks awesome out there… sendin love to you both xxx cute dog

youruser @/jeffreydeanmorgan lots of love Jeff! ❤️

gibson-g1rl a whole jacuzzi out there?? 😭

youruser @/gibson-g1rl found an affordable day resort and decided to give it a try 😝

gibson-g1rl @/youruser cesspool of bacteria yum 😍

youruser @/gibson-g1rl i hate you 😭😭

certifiedbundleofsticks oooo so fun!!!

youruser @/certifiedbundleofsticks mwah ily

random_chick3 I wanna be her

karlsgirliepop crying rn

hermuse @/karlsgirliepop same 💔

END

⋅˚₊‧ ౨ৎ ‧₊˚ ⋅

tags: @gibson-g1rl @certifiedbundleofsticks @internetitgirl17

Not proofread! Apologies for any errors. I scrambled to get this out as I have a big trip tomorrow and need to go to bed LMAO

[undercovercameron]

sous chef

summary: rafe let’s himself play the husband role with your little life in your trailer. oh, also, he loves you. (alternate summary: the first time rafe tells you he loves you)

notes: i had a lot of fun writing this, i just love a domesticated rafe cameron that isn’t insane about coke and isn’t a murderous psychopath…. there’s also alcohol and marijuana use in this! def sexual content and in a particular prayer position…. anyways this was cute and i often romanticize my life in this way too! enjoy pls

tags: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

word count: 2042

When Rafe steps down the rickety stairs and onto the soggy grass, the humidity smacks him in the face like a wall of pond-scented wet sponge.

“Fuck,” he curses, raising a hand to his brow, and squints in the late morning sunshine. A mosquito buzzes past his nose and he swats it away with a golden ringed hand. His head pounds like a drum. Damn your cocktail skills— you always find a way to get him fucked up despite his tolerance. It’s the Pogue in your genes.

That thought makes his head pound harder, but he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. The only thing he likes in his family’s high-brow country club culture is the shit that comes with money. And with your limited experience in that, you’re a break from the bullshit.

He fumbles in his pocket, looking for his keys, but his fingers just land on empty gum wrappers and a lighter. He ascends the trailer steps in twos, wrenching the door open, and starts for the kitchen. There’s movement in your bedroom but he just grabs his keys and finds his way back outside into the muggy weather. He doesn’t know exactly what he’s rushing out to do— his plans aren’t until the afternoon.

He’s halfway to his Range Rover parked haphazardly next to your early 2000s Corolla when the front door’s hinges squeak and you call out to him.

“Needing this?” You hold up his wallet between two fingers, and he snorts. You step down onto the grass with bare feet. You’ve got a black lacy thing on top and a pair of half-buttoned jean shorts on the bottom.

“Take anything you aren’t supposed to?” He says, squelching over to your half-dressed form.

“Maybe. You know that’s my mom’s thing, not mine.” You roll your beautiful eyes.

“That right?” He says quietly, sliding his wallet into his pocket and taking your neck into the side of his hand. “Never know, with you.” His mouth meets yours for the first time that day, and you sigh. His hand smoothes down your waist and he tucks his fingers into your waistband, feeling the material of your panties. His favorite pair.

You stumble in the soft earth, feeling yourself being tugged closer, and your arms wind themselves around his shoulders. He’s hot and pulsing with feeling under your touch.

You taste like mint toothpaste and something like watermelon from last night. Every time he kisses you you taste like Sunday mornings and sunshine. But he finds the will to pull away with a hand on your collarbone.

“I’ll see you tonight.” His tilted face glints in the sunlight and his eyes are half lidded and relaxed. At peace.

“What’s tonight?” Your brows pull together, lips screwed up, and he lets go of you.

“I’m goin’ fishing with some buddies later today. I’ll bring you something I catch.” His blue eyes follow yours as you scan his face.

“Mmm.” You smooth a hand down his chest. “My own personal Hank Parker.”

He turns, sliding you off of him with both of your wrists in one hand, and backs towards his car with a chuckle on his lips.

“You’re weird.”

“You’re sexy.” Your gaze moves from the top of his head to his shoes. “Bye.”

“Mhm. Bye.”

His back turns to you and he grins foolishly to himself, depressing the unlock key on his fob. You’re going to ruin him someday.

Later that night, he approaches your door with a cooler, a backpack slung over one shoulder, and a limp in his step. He can’t escape a fishing trip without some sort of injury. He’s lucky if it’s minor. The lights are on in your trailer, and you had even lit the citronella candle on the tiny picnic table off to the side of the front door.

He knocks on the flimsy door on merit and upon no response, shoulders into your living room with a huff.

“Y/N?” He calls, nothing but the crickets chirping and some soul music coming from your radio making any noise in the small house. He sets his things down onto the counter and your lack of response starts to make him a little worried.

That nagging worry immediately disappears when he saunters into the small bathroom and sees you sitting on the toilet, feet propped up on the side of the tub, smoking a joint and painting your toenails.

“What’re you doing?” He asks for some reason, face splitting into a grin, and you pluck the half-smoked J from your lips and hand it to him. Smoke curls out of your mouth and into your nose, and he just chuckles as he takes a hit.

“Multitasking,” you say, eyes meeting him before going back to the task at hand.

“‘S what I love about you,” he murmurs, and leans down for a kiss. You grant him one without acknowledging the beat your heart skips. He barrels on, trying to make you forget his lingual mishap. “I’m going to clean the fish while you finish here and then we can cook, yeah?” He sucks the life out of the joint and hands it back. You push it between your lips and nod, swiping a final time at the pinky toenail of your left foot. Five down, five to go.

“Sounds good, baby,” you mutter through your focus. He turns and you smack his ass as he leaves, relishing in the jump and curse word he grants you in response. You smile around the filter in your lips.

Finishing your nails takes so long that Rafe already has the fish in the pan and half of his drink drained by the time you appear from the bathroom with freshly-purple toenails and the lingering cocktail of marijuana and acetone in your hair.

“What’re our sides, Chef Rafe?” You ask, having a sip of his bourbon. You cringe and make a disgusted noise at his favorite alcohol.

“I heard you—this brand is good, snob. And there are potatoes in the oven.” His broad back is to you as he pokes at the fish in the pan, the smell of hot oil and cooking meat lingering in the air. He even opened the window above the sink and lit that candle you like.

“Sounds perfect,” you murmur, sidling up behind him, and curl your arms around his waist. The worn surf shop shirt he has on is smooth to the touch, and his skin is even smoother when you push the hem up to get your hands on him. “You look so sexy cooking for me.”

“Yeah?” He sets down the spatula and reaches for the cajun spices next to the stove. “How sexy?”

“Really sexy.” Your fingertips toy with the waistband of his jeans, and a colony of goosebumps prickle the skin of his forearms. He nearly shivers when you press your palm flat to the muscle above his pelvis and slide past his belt. He seasons the fish a little more with a shaky hand.

His eyes fix on a single crooked tile in the faux backsplash when you creep your hand down into his boxers, and your mouth presses to his back when he hangs his head. Your fingers smooth down the length of his dick, skilled and familiar, and his mouth drops open.

His heart starts to beat quicker when you pull his zipper down and unbutton his fly in one fell swoop, hot face pressed to the thin material of his shirt. He can feel your grin through it. Your thumb swipes across the tip and he sucks in a breath and grabs at your wrist. He starts to let you go when you kiss at his shoulder blade and curl your hand around the shaft and start to move.

“You have a good day today?” You murmur, bringing your hand back to your mouth to spit into your palm before getting back to it. He looks to the side, silently cursing, and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Mhm.” His word breaks into a groan and you relish in the sound. He’s so good at pleasing you and getting you loud, it’s nice to just hear him for once. His fingers grip the edge of the stove so hard his knuckles pale.

“You smell so good.” You squeeze a hand at his waist, another one working hard in his boxers, and he chokes on one of the rawest moans he’s ever expressed. Your grin widens. “So good, baby,” you kiss through.

“F-fucking—…” He exhales heavily and his hips jerk at the increasing sensitivity. “You’re too good at this.”

“Not possible,” you say, and peek over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. His ears are a bright pink, same as his lips, and his face is screwed up in something akin to bliss. You love it.

Your fingers slow for a moment, letting him catch a breath. He pants a little bit but licks his lips, eyes blinking open and looking surprisingly dark. You move his shirt aside with your other than and creep your fingers up his abdomen, stopping briefly at his abs before lowering back to hold onto the anchor of his stomach. You press a kiss to his bicep before your hand speeds up again, fingers a little tighter.

“So sexy,” you compliment smoothly, your smirk evident. “Needy.”

“Stop,” he breathes, eyes closed once again and biting at his lip. “You know that’s my line.”

Your thumb slips over his tip once, twice, then three times. He nearly chokes on a groan.

“It’s true.” A bite to his upper back. “So fucking sensitive to me you’d think we’re virgins, huh?”

His head rolls on his neck, internally cursing, and he grabs again at your wrist as you move quicker.

“Y/N,” he starts to chant, squeezing his eyes.

Swiftly dropping onto your knees diagonal to him, you grab at his right arm and pull him around to you. His side crashes against the stove with the force but he just pants and grabs at your hair to pull you closer to his dick.

You push him into your mouth with one hand on his hip and the other curled around the back of his thigh. He lets out the most wrecked sound when you push him all the way to the back of your throat. You suck, hard, and watch as his head tips back and his mouth open in an O.

“Fuck,” he shudders when your tongue swirls around him. “Shit.”

You go high on your knees, grabbing at the base of his dick, and push it further. His hips stutter and his fingernails dig into your scalp, but you dismiss it when he goes nearly silent.

“Please,” you mutter, mouth full, and that’s what sends him barreling over the edge.

“Fuck!” He forces out between his teeth, and it immediately turns into a gasp. “Y/N.”

You just ‘mhm’ and open your mouth so he can see. He release his grip on your hair and pets down the side of your head, panting with his eyes locked on yours. You leave him with one final suck that makes him shiver and then pull back. You get to your feet, happy with yourself, and seal him with a kiss. He grunts into your mouth but reciprocates.

“I think the fish might be burning, honey,” you comment, peeking over at the stove, and he just closes his eyes and shakes his head.

“I fucking love you.” He grins, not quite catching his breath.

You don’t necessarily freeze, but you stay silent. You take a moment to just look at him, watching the way his eyes fall open and the corners of his mouth turn down as his grin falters.

“I love you, too,” is all you say, eyes twinkling, and then you open the fridge and turn away from him. “We don’t have any cranberry juice.”

You’re simply looking for the ingredients to your preferred drink, but a bashful blush finds its way onto your cheeks.

His heart and lungs start working again and he turns back to the stove, taking hold of the spatula.

“Looks like you’re going to have to use orange juice,” he says through his smile.

[oobbbear]

This rant has 1 target audience and it’s me sorry I like to talk about my unfinished/abandoned stories like they’re successful tv shows and I’m the director getting interviewed about the little details of said show

I love afterland postal so so so much you don’t know how hard it was for me to cut it, but it got to the point that it’s effecting my mental health so I had to stop it. His story in the afterlife is a healing journey, so for that healing journey to be effective I have to make the downfall in his past life hurt, like, HURT hurt, and I went a bit too far that and focused on it a bit too much that I was not working on the healing part anymore. Everyday I regret the making of water angel cause it ended being my fav instead of the protagonists and it being the physical manifestation of death made me focus on the downfall of the story too much, until it literally just crumbled to the ground. If I pick back up Dolus’s story one day I will cut out water angel entirely and maybe most part of his past life, focusing mainly on the afterlife part and how he recovers/deal with his past traumas and rid of bad habits. I want to draw this gremlin again so so bad.

Afterland Postal is a story about learning to love life through death. I like to draw Dolus with CT moon and Callisto sitting together because all three of their stories are about “learning to love life again through the death”. In Dolus’s case is his literal death. For CT moon is him fantasizing death. And for Callisto is through the death of her old life.

After the “death” all three of learned to love themselves again by traveling. They see the world in different perspectives, goes out of their bubbles and get a taste of the wild possibilities of what life has to offer.

For Dolus, I specifically placed him in this post office that delivers mails to the living plane so he can run around experiencing the world but doesn’t have to deal with life? One of his big thing is that he enjoys simply existing, he likes observing the world, feel his surroundings, I had an entire chapter that’s describing how he sees the world through his 5 senses. The feelings are the only thing he enjoyed about life, now he’s a ghost life doesn’t have effect on him anymore, he can really slow down sit down and look at the world he didn’t have the time to look at before, see what he missed and what he may have never be able to see.

For CT moon is basically all described in that If my world goes Bang comic.

Callisto is a different case cause she doesn’t die, strongest fucking character in my stories she survived and very passionate about living. In the original plan after her finding Hester and having Hester’s soul freed, she’s gonna go and travel the world. She has been living in this little house in the middle of nowhere for good half of her life, having her burned down her past and moving on to a new one is good for her. I had a lot a lot of sketches that is just her traveling, I used this as a chance to expand on this weird magical world she lives in, so many cool places and concept. (Also she started dating people again wohoo) I really wish I didn’t burn myself out after that animatic this story would have been so fun to work on.

SPEAKING OF TRAVELING AS A HEALING MECHANISM☝️I m gonna go on a mad Orange Knife spoiler rant since I don’t think there’s a single soul still reading this thing. In Moondust & Natto plot, Moondust really really wanted to see the world with Natto, she loved the world she loved life, in her eyes the outside world is a struggle but one she would fight for because the sunset is beautiful and the grass is soft and for that the hardship is worth it, she loved the world so so much and she wanted to have Natto experience it too. Freedom was a large part of her soul and being add to OK’s collection permanently took that away. She never got to see it again not even the part of her that got added to worm made it out, her soul is killed long ago and body died with the fire that led to Worm and the remaining crew’s freedom, which honestly I think she would be happy knowing that her death freed Natto in the end. She would be mad knowing the person who killed her is freed too but she would understand if she knows Worm’s situation better. After Natto is free I’d like to think he carries a piece of Moondust with him so in his heart he completed their dream, and they can finally experience the world together.

It’s 2am and nothing is making sense sent post to tumblr.com go

[engenlvr]

kintsugi | alexia putellas

pairing: alexia putellas x anneliese hoffmann (oc)

summary: your relationship with a certain blonde captain is complicated especially since all you can do is think about her but every time you try to move forward with her something always pulls you back.

a/n: orange coloured text mean that is german, blue coloured text means that its dutch and red coloured text means spanish. i hate writing games so it will probably be written horribly. the end isn't written the best as i didn't really know how to finish it and sometimes it’s hard to write exactly how you want it to turn out also if there’s any spelling mistakes i’m sorry but enjoy

word count: 7.3k

playing at barcelona had been a dream of yours since you were a kid despite growing up germany to a german mum and a dutch dad. you immediately fell in love with the club ever since he introduced you to the club at a young age and you always flew out to see them play when you can.

just before the world cup the club had contacted you telling you that they wanted your and before they finished the sentence you blurted out a yes. saying yes was even easier when you knew caroline, ingrid and fridolina from wolfsburg.

despite germany’s early elimination which shocked not only the team but the world especially since we were in the euros final. but watching the rest of the tournament was a learning experience and time to learn your new teammates way of play.

though it was hard to leave wolfsburg as you’ve been there for as long as you could remember. slowly making your way to the first team but barcelona was the right challenge you needed. with your arrival at barcelona the wolfsburg girl’s immediately took you under their wing.

after being at barcelona for a couple of months of being there you fell in love with the atmosphere. being able to play with the worlds best alexia with some other players who were worthy of it. you learned so much.

apart from the girls from wolfsburg you got along with esmee the most as the both of you are dutch. the rest of the team you got along with easily but your friendship with alexia was weird. the two of you got along but it was awkward at least in your eyes.

today was the day barcelona were gonna play eintracht frankfurt in germany and you were over the moon. to be able to speak german again and be at home. but more importantly to see national teammates but especially laura.

the both of you made it through germany’s youth together to the first team she reminded you of your sister that’s why the two of you first bonded.

the four old wolfsburg girl’s walked out one the pitch talking about all the fun the lot of you had on germany. your eyes grazed the field in hopes of finding the familiar blonde you knew. once they did you ran to the girl jumping on her back which caused her to nearly fall.

“anne, missed me?” laura said with a joking tone and placing you down on the grass “of course we don’t even live in the same country anymore”

she looked at you talking in your appearance “how’s spain been treating you? you’ve even got a tan” you went on blabbering about the spanish life and how everything was perfect until alexia called you over telling you it was time to prep for the match “see you soon” pulling the girl in a long hug before making you way back.

“you know you shouldn’t be fraternising with the enemy afterwards sure but before no” alexia told you in her caption voice before walking away.

★★★★★

you told the team how they played just before the lot of you went on the pitch as you knew how the team plays. but despite that the team let a goal slip by none other than laura. over the years whenever the two of you played each other and one of you scored the other did shortly after.

thought that didn’t happen in the first half it happens it soon happened shortly after the second half started. when they were given a free kick which you decided to take and went it. which seemed to fill the team with more energy as as two more goal came from mariona in the fiftieth minute and salma in the sixty seventh.

once the final whistle was blown you went around congratulating the players and spending extra time with your national teammates.

“you just had to score the first goal didn’t you” teasing the girl seeing as your team won in the end “and you just can’t keep copying me. i score and then you score some may say you’re obsessed with me” laughing at her comment and pushing her shoulder away.

“well you know what they say look up to your elders—” laura was about to retaliate when a blonde girl came and placed a hand on your lower back causing you to jump slightly at the placement.

alexia was out for a little bit as her knee was causing her irritation but she could still travel with the team if she wanted to “great goal by the way. i’m happy it’s with us not against us” her eyes looked directly at you forgetting that laura was there completely before walking off to mapi before you could respond. your eyes followed her before looking back at your friend.

your best friend looked at you knowingly "what?” questioning her gaze on you, but she stayed quite “laura what? i don’t like when you look at me like that”

“you like her” her theory caused your eyes to widen while trying to come up with something. Which caused her to think her to think her theory was right “no i don’t i just think that she’s pretty and talented”

“sure”

“well esmee’s calling me so i got to go” pointing at the girl on the other side of the pitch who wasn’t even looking in your direction “byeee” running to the dutch girl as fast as you could.

“you can’t run away from this” the german girl shouted across the pitch.

★★★★★

it was now christmas break and the girls were hanging out before they all went away doing their own thing for christmas. they all had family to go home to but you couldn’t it would be too much.

when you were little you used to love christmas spending time with your parents and sister. the snow the music and the markets in town. it was also conveniently when your birthday was the day before christmas.

but then the whole thing with your sister happened making you hate your birthday and christmas.

hearing all the plans the girl has made you sad. ingrid and mapi going to norway to experience a scandinavian christmas with snow and then coming back to spend time with mapi’s family.

esmee going back to the netherlands to be with her family.

fridolina going home to sweden to spend time with her boyfriend.

the whole team talked about the plans they had this christmas. you sat there quietly listening but barely taking in the words that were being spoken. how they’d spend time with family their parents, brothers, sister.

sister

SISTER

SISTER

“anneliese, you got any special plans this christmas?” you started at the cup of tea in your hands before alexia nudged your shoulder tapping you out of your thoughts.

smiling “nope I’m staying here by myself just need some time away from home”

“alone for christmas” salma said with a sad smile at the thought of her teammate being alone on a day meant to be spent with family and your loved ones.

all the girls who were staying in spain offered to let you stay with them all except one alexia who sat there quietly while you kindly declined the girls despite their persistence.

the night ended soon after with you laying in your bed scrolling through your phone when a message appeared.

alexia

no one shouldn’t be alone on christmas

spend it with me and my family

anneliese

as kind as that is i don’t want to intrude

plus i’m fine being on my own

alexia

i won’t have it

join me and my family on christmas eve at least

anneliese

your not gonna take no for an answer are you

alexia

nope

anneliese

fine but only cause your so persistent

alexia

great can’t wait to see you

so there you were sat with alexia’s family as light chatter filled the room. you admired what they had, her close relationship with all her family.

her mum welcomed you as of you were her own, hugging you immediately when went through the door. completely forgetting about her daughter.

you’d forgotten what it was like to be with family on holidays you rarely were.

you and alexia weren’t even that close, not like you were with ingrid, frido and caro. so for the the catalan girl to ask you to spend christmas eve with her family it caught you off guard.

why?

the two of you never spent time outside of of football unless it was team bonding night other than that the two of you were basically strangers.

after being dragged away by alba who talked about anything and everything from her job to saying that the two of you should meet up for dinner one day. as she said and i quote ‘no wonder alexia been hiding you from me she’d know that we’d immediately get along. we have to grab dinner some time’

“i’m going to borrow her for a second” alexia said to her sister and pulled you along with her to the garden “thought you’d want a breather, i know how my sister can be”

she brought you out to the garden area which had a nice outdoor sofa facing the sunset that was currently happening. flowers covering every corner of it making the scene in front of your eyes look like one that should be in a museum.

looking at the girl “no honestly it’s fine she’s so kind we actual lot have planes to get dinner soon” a shocked look was on the girls face “i admire the relationship you have with your sister it’s so pure and cute” it got you thinking about your sister and your relationship with her the two of you should of been like them but instead you weren’t.

“you have any siblings?” the question wasn’t even a hurtful one but it did it cute deep and she didn’t know no one did except for your family “yeah a twin sister actually. we used to be like exactly like you and alba” smiling fondly at the memory.

“if you don’t mind me asking why aren’t you?”

“we just don’t talk anymore” a sad smile painted on your face which alexia took as a sign to drop the topic “well i’m glad you decided to join me today” placing a hand on your shoulder.

“well you were very persistent and i can’t exactly say no to my captain”

she laughed at your comment, you hadn’t been this close to alexia ever and you’ve never really appreciated her beauty. her hazel eyes, her blonde hair which was glowing due to the sun behind her, the dimple that appeared when she smiled.

“you’re so pretty” the words blurted out before you could stop them from coming out, covering your mouth in shock and staring directly at the girl who��s smile seemed to get bigger.

the blonde girl moved closer to you so that your legs were touching “thank you so are you” complimenting you back with a slight giggle.

you saw her eyes flicking between your eye’s and lips whilst yours did the same. the two of you slowly got closer to each other to the point where you could feel her breath on you. just one of you had to move forward and your lips would be touching and alexia was the one to do so.

“anne you didn’t tell me it was your birthday” alba walked through the door just as you’re lips were about to touch. you looked at alexia and saw as her faces fulfilled with shock? hurt? sadness? over the fact you didn’t tell her.

“yeah i guess how’d you know?”

alba waved your phone in the air “well your phone kept ringing so i was going to check who it was and then they sent a happy birthday message so i put it together”

walking to alba you grabbed your phone “well i’m going to call them back real quick” walking further in the garden.

alba walked and sat where you previously were “did you know it was her birthday and don’t think i didn’t see what was happening there you were about to kiss her” she gushed over the scene that was about to unfold in front of her, happy to see the girl happy and in love again “omg your really like her”

“alba” dragging out her name “i don’t know one second she was telling us she was spending christmas alone and then i invited her without even asking mum. and that not like me i like plans, a schedule. i don’t know what’s happening to me, we’re not even that close as you can tell cause i didn’t even know it was her birthday. i feel like shit cause i don’t have anything for her—”

“alexia it’s okay breathe. it’s okay to like her, i get it she’s nice easy to talk to. oh and you know mum called it the second the two of you walked through the doors” her eyes brightened when her sister said that, the thought of her mum liking you “really”

“yeah, so did i” the smile on her face only grew bigger

walking back to the sisters “just had to listen to my parents complain about how it took me too long to answer” attempting to joke as you could tell you not talking alexia about your birthday hurt her “i’ll leave you guy’s alone” alba touched your shoulder with a smile before walking back in “happy birthday”

“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you i wanted to but i don’t really celebrate it after everything with my sister. it just reminds me of her and i kind of just forgot so i’m so sorry—”

“— it’s fine if just wish i could of got you something and made this day more in your honour” holding your hand and rubbing her thumb on the top of your hand “honestly it’s the most fun i’ve had in forever”

it was true, as bad as it sounded you forget about your sister. for the first time in forever you forgot about the girl and had peace in your mind, you felt guilty but it felt nice.

“let’s go back in”

the german girl started to walk back inside “i actually do have a present for you” her hand grabbed yours spinning up around.

“how you just found out—” alexia’s lips met yours causing you to freeze in shock before reciprocating and wrapping your arms around her neck pulling her closer to you. pulling apart to catch a breath before pecking her lips two more times.

“you just kissed me?” your face full of shock by her public act in front of her family

“i did”

placing another kiss on your lips, never wanting to leave the moment “we should really go back inside” pulling away from the kiss.

the two of you went back inside with rosy cheeks. despite the kiss being in the open only alba and eli managed to see it. the only reason you knew that they saw was that alba was now jumping in excitement and eli was looking at you with an all knowing smile.

so hours later you found yourself having a few too many glasses of alcohol and you were giggling anything that was being said and clinging to the girl who complied putting your head underneath her’s. but with the alcohol you were in no shape to go back home.

"I can just sleep on the sofa" offering not wanting anyone to give up their bed for you.

eli shook her head at your idea "nonsense you and alexia can sleep in her room"

but before you could protest the two of you were pushed in the room. a scheme that was definitely orchestrated by the blonds sister, in hopes for the two of you to kiss again? confess 'feelings'? said feelings that you didn't even know what they meant. whether she had felt the same as you did? the whole situation confused you to much. being in a relationship was a bigger step for you than one might think.

cause of her

alexia's room was filled with her teenage brain pictures of her football idol's, some family photos mainly of her and her dad, old football gear, football trophies which helped make sense to all the awards she was getting now. though you had twenty nine year old alexia in front of you got to see all the younger versions of her.

the two of you laid in her old bed, you wearing one of her old football jersey paired with shorts.

your green eyes looked into her hazel ones as the two of you faced each other "I wish I could of made today more about you and overall more fun. instead you got a day with my family" pushing a piece of your hair behind you ear the main reason being so she could touch you.

be closer to you

"seeing your family be so happy honestly made this the best birthday I've had in years" a smile growing on the girl's face at the thought of you liking her family.

the hand stayed there stroking your face lightly the act so small but it had you feeling things. which got the german girl thinking as to if the girl in front of her had the same feeling. whether her actions were due to the alcohol the catalan girl had or so she could feel some sort of control in her life, she lost control on her leg causing her to be out with injury.

"goodnight, alex"

"goodnight, liese. happy birthday"

christmas eve ( your birthday ) was the first and last time the two of you kissed for a while.

★★★★★

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anneliesehoffmann 🎄👙🍽️🍾💋🚗

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laurafreigang who did u ditch me for 😭

> anneliesehoffmann i didn’t ditch u for anyone

> laurafreigang well i know ur not alone

alexiaputellas 💞

liked by anneliesehoffmann

barcalvr i’m so happy to see the girls love u

liked by anneliesehoffmann

esmeebrugts pretty girl

liked by anneliesehoffmann

lynnwilms_ miss uuu

> anneliesehoffmann miss u moreee tell the girls i say hi and that i miss them

marialeonn16 I KNOW WHOS HOUSE THIS IS

> annehofflvr mapi don’t be afraid tell us who’s house this is

user2627 ugh ur soooo

ingrid_engen so happy to be playing with u again

> fridolinarolfo i second that

> graham95 i agree

> anneliesehoffmann well i happy to be playing with my girls again

★★★★★

the thought of being with the alexia scared you. ever since the two of you kissed on your birthday it was all you could think about. you wanted to be able to kiss her whenever you felt like.

but wherever you thought about telling the girl that you wanted to be in a relationship with her all thoughts linked back to her.

the distance between that you put between the two of you was something that alexia felt. the way that every time that two of you would bump into each other outside of work you’d walk the other way or you’d walk past her muttering an excuse as to why you couldn’t sit and chat whenever she tried.

at work the two girls would only talk if they absolutely had to. their conversations only about football never about that night months ago.

what hurt alexia more wasn’t that the fact that you weren’t talking to her, it was the fact that you still saw her sister and not like once since the last you guys met or whenever your calendars aligned. but it was like once a week, at this point her sister was seeing her situationship? the girl she liked? her teammate? yes her teammate, that was the best word to describe their relationship given that they don’t even talk in unless needed.

alexia wanted to talk to you, the way the two of you talked in her mum’s garden. the scene replayed in her head everyday since then replaying the way you looked at her, the way you looked with the sunset making you look like something straight out a painting, the kiss that quite literally captivated her. and it was silly because it was one kiss well maybe like five including the small ones.

the most words you spoke to her was when she returned back on the pitch after her surgery with you simply congratulating her on it and the goal that she scored. plus the words you spoke to her after a little celebratory night out the team had for her return but you couldn’t remember anything ( probably due to the alcohol ) but alexia did she remembered everything.

alba could confirm this, as without a doubt everyday her sister would complain about the situation. that night it seemed as if the of you would take a step further or atleast see what would come with your relationship.

she thought it would lead to a couple dates, heartfelt talks and a few more kisses.

instead she got no dates, the two of you only talking about football when forced forced, you avoiding her and no kisses.

upon the alba’s complaints about how often she would hear her complaints, the girl confided in mapi instead and mapi being mapi she couldn’t keep her mouth shut and told ingrid ( just her thankfully ) about everything.

today was already a big day for you before knowing that it was the champions league final. the last time you were in one despite scoring the two goal which caused wolfsburg to be in the lead, but during the second half barcelona managed to bounce back and score three more. in the end they won your feelings towards the loss then were weird you weren’t as sad as you should of been, maybe it was because you deserved it as she was meant to be her not you.

you stole her dream, the life she deserved to have.

and you losing that final was the price to had to pay.

you sat in your cubby as the dark haired norwegian girl sat next to you “anna, mapi told me something yesterday and i don’t think that i was meant to know but you know how mapi is she can’t keep a secret” turning to the girl in confusion “about you and alexia, you know you’re allowed to feel love? in my years of knowing you not once have you talked about a girl even if someone asked you out you’d decline”

no one knew your reasoning as to why you pushed alexia away “it’s just so much more to it” keeping your response short so you didn’t reveal too much “it makes sense now the looks alexia gave you. you spending christmas with her. all i’m saying is don’t be afraid to let go and let yourself feel their love for you”

“ingrid”

“okay, if we win you have to at least give it a go you might not see it but it’s hurting alexia more than you know. but if we lose i’ll let it go and i’ll make sure mapi doesn’t push anything. whatever or whoever is causing you to push alexia away isn’t worth you living your life not being in love and i really would be perfect alexia is mapi’s best friend and ur mine so we could go on double dates”

it was such a simple sentence bit it caused all the emotions that you were feeling to resurface. tears started to build up and fall “oh anne, it will work all out in the end” wiping your tears away and kissing your cheek, you looked over at the blonde who was in the far right corner only to see the girl already looking at you sending you a little smile which you returned.

“okay, now let win this” nodding at the norwegian.

hours later you and the rest of the starting eleven started to walk on the pitch alongside olympique lyonnais. your heart started to beat faster at everything what the day meant to you before it was named as the final for the champions league. you looked at the catalan girl who was at on the bench.

breath anneliese

and the second the whistle was blown you had to put all you emotions aside. the first half wasn't an easy one with both teams proving as to why they were both in the final. lyon had many attempts some of them from corners but thankfully cata was able to save them. we just happened to have the same luck with all of our attempts to be save or have them merely miss the goal.

then half time rolled by and after a motivational team talk given by alexia. the deadlock was broken by you with an assist from keira. the two of you were passing the ball back and forth between each other when you started to run forward to the left side of the net and kicked it into the top right corner.

cheers erupted through the stadium, your teammates running towards you and the subs jumping in joy. they were all looking at you but your eyes were on team captain.

this was the most you’ve looked at her since then. since that night. it was just a glance at each other but it meant so much more to the both of us

it wasn’t until the 90th minute that the alexia came on for keira, claps through the stadium at a club legend coming on.

she showed just why she’s is know as one of the worlds greats. as in the ninety sixth minute claudia kicked the ball towards alexia who finished it off.

you watched as the girl took of her shirts and spun it around ( much like what chloe kelly did in the euros final when she done the winning goal ). you watched as she bowed down to her people, she looked and you completely forgetting about the others around her you were what mattered most and you ran toward her jumping in her arms and holding her face

“you just had to go and show them why they call you la reina” she laughed at your words “i hate when people call me that”

“okay well, my star girl showing the world why she’s the best”

and less than a minute later the final whistle blew and the two of you ran to each other again hugging, the rest of them soon joining the two of you. you began to sob many thought it was due to winning but it wasn’t it was cause of her.

ingrid’s words changed the way you looked at the situation, that maybe she’d would want you to be happy to find love again.

for years you thought that every big game that you lost was due to her, your sister. maybe you winning this game was her telling you that you could forgive yourself. that it wasn’t your fault.

the stadium was now close to empty all the family members and friends on the pitch.

you were gonna tell her.

now or never.

“alex, erm i’m so sorry for the way i’ve treated you pushing you away. only thinking of myself—”

“liese—”

“no please don’t interrupt me or i won’t say it. for years i thought that it was my fault. genny my twin was the one that loved football not me, i only went cause she did. then she got sick and i wanted to quit but she made me continue but she kept getting worse nothing was working the chemo barley did anything then one day she— she just died. i felt like i stole her life. i’m living the one she always wanted to live and i never even wanted it. i thought that every game i lost was punishment, for stealing her life. but today winning this game i think was her way of telling me that it was okay and that i can forgive myself. that i can let myself be loved and feel love. ingrid said that if we win this game i should tell you how i feel and alex i— the first day that we spent together just us was the day i realised that i loved you. the way you are with your family, how much people look up to you, how your simple show. i love everything about you—”

your words stoped the second she placed her hands in your cheeks “liese, i’m so sorry that you’ve been through all that but don’t think for a second that it was your fault that she died okay or that you deserve to the dead one okay. the world works in cruel ways and losing innocent loved ones is part of it unfortunately. i’m glad that you’ve realised it’s not your fault”

for once you didn’t care about anything only the girl in front of you.

the pair of you stayed together till you both spotted you family and went your separate ways. they went on about how proud they are of you, how proud she would be of you. the three of you were talking till your mum spotted ingrid’s mum and went to the norwegian who she grew a friendship with when you played in germany.

you spotted alba who was talking to her sister and you ran to the girl hugging her “i’m so proud of you” the girl whispered happy to see a genuine smile on your face “i see you and my sister have sorted things out” you nodded “good cause i can’t listen to her complaining about you none more” the words cause alexia too hot the girl in the head “hey that was between us”

smiling at alexia your alex “hate to break it to you but i already knew. you told mapi and then mapi told ingrid who had a little talk with me today” she swore under her breath about her best friend

“plus mums gonna be so happy that you found love” the girl blushed looking at you and gently pulling you in her arms “yeah i guess i have”

★★★★★

pretend its you in all the pictures with alexia , in the 5th ur esmee, 7th and 8th ur frido but in the 8th pretend aitaina is a image of her sister

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anneliesehoffmann ive done it big sister

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alexiaputellas for her

> anneliesehoffmann no for them

barca4ever i may seem delusional but i fell like there’s something between her and alexia

ingrid_engen i told everything would work out in the end plus this win is already better cause we won it together. the wolfsburg gang is back

laurafreigang you deserved this so much anne

annehofflvr i honestly haven’t seen her smile more

marialeonn16 you know ingrid refused to take a picture with me until she took one with u stop stealing my gf

> anneliesehoffmann omg sorry not sorry wolfsburg gang > youu

fridolinarolfo the girl who deserves it most

liked by anneliesehoffmann

lena_oberdorf6 goals in finals just seen to be your thing

> anneliesehoffmann lena it don’t count if we lose 😭

user3565 why are half the pictures you and alexia

esmeebrugts so cute

★★★★★

you and alexia your girlfriend. if that’s what the two of you were. you guys done stuff that couple did, like going on dates, staying at each others place ( meaning you being at her's all the time ) , visiting her family. the two of you were basically a couple but neither one of you have fully asked the other to be their girlfriend.

this summer before the olympics the two of you explored more of barcelona together alexia showing you her home in between games. but for the time off the two of you had before both of you were off to national duty.

you showed her your homes, the first time you've ever done so to somebody you loved. you showed her germany some of your favourite places, some of your sisters favourite places growing up. it was such a small thing but it was so intimate to you, and alex knew that. you opening up about you're sister was such a big act no one really knew about her the fan's didn't only close friend's and family.

you showed her the netherlands the place your family moved after your sister. you're parents had gone away on holiday so that allowed you and alex to stay there.

the two girls were currently out for dinner at a nice restaurant which you went to a lot as a kid. it was a big place with seats in a garden filled with many flowers and plants.

"im happy that you wanted to give this a try” her hand moving a piece of your hair away. she could get used to this you sat beside her, going on little dates, the two of you “i'm happy i did too, so tomorrow i’m thinking maybe we could go to that breakfast place the one me and my family used to—”

“—be me girlfriend?” your sentence halted in shock of the catalans words. they caught the both you you by surprise “i had this whole plan to do it tomorrow after going out to dinner and then a walk through the park but i can’t wait i’ve wanted you to be my girlfriend since we kissed and it’s all i can think about since you said you wanted to give this a try”

“— yeah i’ll be you’re girlfriend” placing a soft kiss on the girls lips. it was different since their last, it held so much more emotion. it was raw and truly showed how you felt for each other. the thought of being someone's girlfriend used to scare to it due until a month ago where that fear turned into excitement. you were waiting till you would be able to call alex your girlfriend.

★★★★★

pretend it’s u in all the photos with alexia and in the 8th pretend that nathalie björn is u in alexia’s spain kit

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alexiaputellas 💐💞🌺📖🍦📸🦋

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evrywoso OKAY HARD LAUNCH

annelisehoffmann i did not agree to that photo

> alexiaputellas don’t worry you look beautiful

ingrid_engen remember what i said before the final we better do that soon

> alexiaputellas you didn’t tell me anything

> ingrid_engen i was talking to anne not you

> alexiaputellas @annelisehoffmann liese ???

> anneliesehoffmann i’ll tell u in a second alex also why are you texting me when your right next to me

laurafreigang omg something happened and u haven’t told me but u told ingrid

> anneliesehoffmann 😝

wosolvr anne is alexia’s spain kit is so cute

albaps9 dinner date when

> alexiaputellas when i’m back just come over

> albaps9 ale i’m talking to anne not you plus i see u all the time

> anneliesehoffmann whenever i’ll cancel plans to see u

annehofflvr their nicknames for each other

> barca4ever i know it’s so cute and how alba’s friends with anneliese

marialeonn16 oh you so done it

user4567 so they’ve deffo met each other’s families

★★★★★

the olympics went neither of the girls way their first games went good germany winning 3-0 to australia and spain winning 2-1 to japan. germany was missing some key players like lena who tore her acl and mcl in a match that didn’t even matter as we had already qualified for the upcoming euros.

we were fine against canada which went to penalties which was 4-2 to us and funnily enough so pain went into penalties as well with a 4-2 win over colombia. then we played usa which seemed to be a problem for us even in the group stages which was a 1-0 win to them.

but for spain it went horrible. they just weren’t playing like they normally do, making silly mistakes which allowed brazil to take advantage of it. alexia wasn’t playing for the majority of the game till the 77th minute, and that was when the team started to play better but despite their sudden elevated energy ( which you said was due to alexia being on the pitch ) it wasn’t enough they still lost.

you were playing spain.

you were playing alexia.

obviously you had thought about having to play alexia but you didn’t think it would happen. the both of you had been dreading the game, it wasn’t just her you were playing a lot of the team played for barcelona.

the both of you starting.

but despite the two of you playing you swore to each other that you wouldn’t let what you feel stop from fully committing to the game.

when the two of you were on the pitch you didn’t know each other in fact the couple decided that they were to hate each other on the pitch.

and they done exactly that.

the second that whistle was blown you both had an aim and that was to get that bronze medal. germany’s motivation was to do this for obi and spains was to prove exactly why they’re the worlds best.

the first half was tough you didn’t really have any chances but spain, they were eager to get a medal and they had chances most hitting the crossbar out just being slightly off target. your defence wasn’t the best in the first half cutting it to close making these chances for spain and you were lucky that none went in the back of the net.

the second half was where the action started ( specifically the sixty fourth minute) to happen it was germanys chance. you were just past the half way mark where you saw gulia in the perfect position so you kicked the ball over to her.

the only person in front of her was cata who pushed gulia to move her from the ball which resulted in the referee giving a penalty immediately.

and you were gonna take it.

maybe it was because you knew how cata played but it still was hard. you always hated playing against your teammates even in friendlies but especially it important games like this one.

you watched spains last penalty shoot out against colombia and they were good. you saw how she played her tells.

you walked up to your spot and you could feel her eyes on you, and off you looked back at her you wouldn’t be able look to fully it would throw you off your game. but like the both of you agreed to use the your love as motivation to beat the other

taking a deep breath. your heard the whistle blow an ran towards the ball putting it in the bottom right corner while me cata went to left. running to where obi was and pointing at her so she knew that all this was for her. you turned around to hug lea who all ready had her hands open for you.

but that goal didn’t mean that germany would win the game can turn around in seconds and spain were known for doing that in the euro qualifiers and in the olympics.

if anything that goal lit a spark in the team more fouls were committed you and alexia committing some on each other.

jenni was a problem she wanted to make this level and get her name on the score sheet, a cross from olga to the center of the box right where jenni was headed toward the girl and luckly ann was there and saved another attempt from her.

and they kept coming spain these opportunities from spain but ann was always there to clean up our mistakes proving just how good she was.

the fully ninety + the seven was done all we had to do was make sure that we didn’t make any mistakes until you did resulting in a penalty to spain you and your teammates were convinced that you barley touched her and that she fell down dramatically as she was in the penalty area and knew that they could get a pently out of it.

you could be the reason that germany lose and as if it was some silly joke alexia was taking it for spain.

your alex.

against berger.

your feeling were conflicted even though you promised her you wouldn’t be. of course you wanted the best for alexia but you wanted, no needed your team to win not just for yourself but for obi for horst for your sister.

the situation was cruel but it was the game.

you were stood next to aitana ready to kick the ball away if it gets blocked and came back to the girls in red. you watch as you’re girlfriend, no alexia kicked the ball in the same direction as you did but this time it being saved.

your ran towards ann to hug her as a thanks for cleaning up your mistakes. surely this was the last action of the game and it was as less than a minute later the whistle was blown.

germany won.

the whole team ran to ann as she was the while reason that we won with all her amazing saves. but while you were all huddled up you saw a alexia was being comforted her teammates and you couldn’t help but feel guilty. but that was the game no matter how great the player is it’s a group sport.

after some time of talking to obi she was like your’s and lea’s child you were her wolfsburg mum and lea was a bayern mum well that was what the fans had been saying. alexia was finally alone sat down waiting for you, you slowly made your way and sat next to her.

the both of you sat silent till alexia broke the silence “i’m happy for you, you deserve it more than anyone i know” she finally looked at you with her hazel eyes, those eyes that you grew to love looking at “i don’t want you to think that you can’t celebrate or be happy around me”

putting her face in your hands, you knew the look that she had on her face. she blamed herself for spain’s loss “alex, it not your fault and no one’s looking at you differently for missing that penalty. you guys had ninety minutes before hand to put a goal in that net okay. you don’t see anyone else blaming themselves as much as you are, they all had chances. so don’t think for a second that missing that penalty erases the ballon d’ors and all the other award that you got. it’s a group sport and as hard as it sound every team needs to lose from time to time it helps show that no matter where your team is ranked you got to make sure you continue to work for it. in the end this will all work out for the better”

you watched as a smile began to rise on the girl’s face “thank you. i really needed that but seriously you were the better team and you played brilliantly today my star girl” repeating the same words you said to her in the champions league final. the day the two of you gave this a go.

the both of you sat there in each other shirts chatting about what you were gonna do what you were back in barcelona, back in her flat which is basically theirs with how often the german girl was sleeping over at alex’s.

no matter the result of a game their love for each other was bigger than what ever happens between them on the pitch. in the end the both of them knew they found the one. whether it was in english, spanish, catalan, german or dutch they knew that in every language that they spoke that they loved each other.

[megapteraurelia]

DUSKWATCH. — scroll #2.

𓐩 SUMMARY; — iwaizumi hajime promised himself he'd stop, lay down the sword and keep his head and feelings down, for after all, he was just a stable boy. but when your hand for courtship gets offered as the prize for this yearly's knight tournament — he can't help but pick up the buried helmet again.

𓐩 WARNINGS; — royalty! fem!reader; stable boy!iwaizumi; mention of injury; yearning!!; death; objectification and sexism; crude language;

𓐩 WORD COUNT; — 8643.

𓐩 AUTHOR'S NOTE; — i had lots of fun writing this chapter. hope you have fun reading it!!

— back to masterlist.

nameless. — messenger.

The road should have been quiet.

It ran along the southern border, an old trade route once packed so tightly with carts and stomping hooves that not even dust had any time to settle. Now, the indents carved by the wheels were half swallowed by weeds, wild and uncut. Even the trees seemed to have crept closer.

The old watchtowers, which used to be manned all year long by the Crown's soldiers, now stood silent, empty, hollow. The closest hold was a three days ride north, too far to send help, too close to ignore.

It should have been quiet. It should have.

Except this time, there was smoke hanging low between the hills. It wasn't thick enough to indicate a strong fire belonging to anything resembling war, but it wasn't idle like a bonfire, either.

There was the sharp scent of rust in the air. A small village not too far from the trade route had gone as silent as the road should have been. Silent in a way that promised bleeding.

Underneath the hill, dark shapes shifted between the trees. They didn't move in tandem the way soldiers did, but didn't move in complete disarray the way frightened farmers would. They moved with the confidence of men who had done this before, like they had hit the road together enough to know to work alongside others, but never equal. Selfish, still.

Bandits.

They had no banners, these men, only patchwork armour and blades worn down from too much use and too little care. From the thicket of the trees, a figure emerged, tall, his hair as dark as the night, cow-licked as the strands refused to sit back. He wore a cloak, his face obscured by the shadow, carrying a rapier on his hips that gleamed cleaner than the rest of him.

He didn't speak, but when he raised a hand, the bandits knew. And stopped moving.

At the edge of the field, a carriage lay smouldering. The wood still hissed where fire had licked at it, a wheel spun loose nearby in the grass. Chests had been broken up and torn apart, the coat of arms of the Royal Mint half broken.

masako. — lady-in-waiting.

The Crown Princess was crying.

Masako's face, lined with age and experience, remained stoic, her eyes watching her mistress with a hard gaze. She sat near the hearth, her hands folded in her lap, her muscles pulled taut with patience. She had seen this despair before.

Masako had served queens. Had watched them rise and fall, had been there when one of them took poison before her wedding day, and had helped sew her into the burial shroud when the court declared it a fever. She had knelt behind your mother as she signed away her inheritance in tears, lips smiling for the court even as her fingers bled from gripping the quill too tightly. Masako had watched women in silk gowns lose everything the moment they blinked too slowly or smiled at the wrong man.

She had seen many things — tragedy, power, and endless manipulation. But nothing stirred her like the quiet suffering of the Crown Princess she had sworn to serve.

Masako stood up with the stiffness of age and discipline, her joints creaking ever so slightly beneath her layered skirts. Crossing the room slowly, she knelt beside you, her worn slippers soft against the stone floor.

"Enough, Your Highness," she said in a voice that was as firm as iron, but tempered with a quiet tenderness, hidden between the folds of her wrinkles. Her tone was not unkind, "Let no one hear you cry like this."

Your sobs quieted, but your face was still hidden in your hands, your shoulders trembling. "Masako. He's choosing for me. Again. Like I'm a thing. Like I'm — like I'm a prize for some man."

Masako's jaw tightened. That was the truth indeed. You were right, you were.

"You are a princess. Not a child," she pressed a steady hand to your back, guiding you to sit up, "You are not the first to be forced into a marriage for the benefit of power, and you will not be the last."

"He has taken control of everything," you spat, face blotched with redness from the tears and the anger, "Not because he cares about me, no, God forbid I am to be brought up in a family that knows the word love. It's so I can please him, because the Lord Regent thinks I'm too soft to choose for myself. What does it matter if I'm the 'most expensive jewel' if I can be bought?"

Masako's eyes drifted beyond the chamber, back to the corridor, to the paintings on the wall, the windows. To all the places that were not to be trusted. Her voice was low, intimate, grave, "Hush, child. You must not say that aloud. Not even to me. Not even here."

"I don't want to fight anymore."

You sounded so young, like a child, like somebody who wasn't ready to take on the world, so exhausted even though you had not yet lived your life to the fullest and Masako understood that, deep in her heart. So her expression softened. But when one thing softened, then another needed to harden, or else they were going to be swept by the tide mercilessly.

"Listen to me," Masako's voice had an edge to it that was sharp, "You will fight, and you will survive this. You will smile when they want you to weep, bow when they demand it and fight when they think you've lost."

She had stood where the Crown Princess was standing now; barely out of girlhood, married to a man three times her age to preserve her family. She had smiled as he lifted her veil, and she had bled alone in the cold bed the same night.

Yet, she had learned how to survive where others were broken.

Her hand caressed your hair, and you wiped your tears with the back of your hand, breathing still uneven but the shakiness had lessened; the hurt remained deeply lodged within your chest.

The fire behind you crackled and shifted, but Masako didn't look. Instead, her eyes remained on the princess; your face that stopped hiding behind your hands.

"I hate him," you whispered.

Good. Let the princess hate them, to hate them all. She didn't say anything because she didn't want to soothe that feeling nor dismiss it. Hatred had its place, for she had learned it a long time ago. And then you sat up, and it was like that was the last bit of weakness you would allow yourself. Spine straightening, a slow turning inward — it was something Masako knew well, too: resolve.

"I will not be a lamb," you said, voice raw, "I will do what is required of me, but I will not be lead to slaughter."

Masako nodded, and she cradled the pride inside her chest like she had cradled you as a newly born.

iwaizumi hajime. — stable boy.

The loft above the stables smelt like straw, old wood and sweat. The air was thick with dust up here that caught the sunlight, and Iwaizumi Hajime was rummaging through the little stash of utensils he kept in secret. One thing Hajime disliked was sharing working tools with people who didn't know how to use them.

It wasn't like he really minded teaching them how to brush a mare properly, but if he did and they left the bristles all bent beyond the natural scope of what it could hold told him two things:

They did not care about the horse or how to groom them properly, and they did not care about the tools belonging to somebody else.

And neither of those were anything Hajime appreciated.

Lost in the routine of grooming the horses, the soft clank of metal snapped him back to reality.

"—damn buckles still not here," came a familiar voice, rough and half-muffled by age and irritation. Peeking around the corner, Hajime watched Irihata drag a worn leather harness across the work bench, grumbling to himself.

"Third shipment this month. And they're light, too," Irihata pursed his lips in disapproval, "What are they doing over there? Used to be clockwork, now it's all horseshit excuses."

Hajime frowned faintly, but the senior groom didn't look up. Instead, he waved his hand in the stable boy's direction, "You finish brushing her down?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Good. Go check the third stall in the east wing. That grey's due for oiling."

Hajime complied without a complaint. He was working the oil into her coat when another set of voices drifted in, sharp with laughter, careless as boys with too much time and too little sense often were.

"—winner gets that old unclaimed sword from back a couple years ago and the princess' hand," one of the squires said, his voice muffled as Hajime heard the crunch of an apple, laughter evident in his tone, "Think on that. Fight a few rounds and you're off with a crown, a lady and a new sword."

"She's prettier than most prizes, I'll grant it," another said, "But word on the street is she sat strange the whole way through. Those fancy-boots said she was stiff as a corpse, no smile, no tear, nuffin'. Might as well've stuck a fancy ribbon on a pike."

"Still," the squire muttered, another crunch, "Wouldn't say no to riding off with that prize, dead eyes or not."

The brush stilled in his hand.

Hajime didn't remember crossing the yard. One moment he was inside, and the next he was out there, standing before them, his fists clenched, heart hammering in his ears like the hooves of a galloping horse.

"Repeat what you said just now."

The squires paused, surprised by the interruption, blinking as they registered the presence of somebody as low in the hierarchy as him. He was a cloth meant for boots, somebody to ignore with his worn-down boots, his hair damp with sweat.

One of them shrugged, "Easy, lad. We didn't mean anything by it."

"She's not some game to laugh about," his voice came out low, tight, but shaking with something more than just anger. Something that travelled from his fingertips through his veins to his chest, culminating, clumping together, pulsating. And it burned, "She's no tool for you to toss around, you don't know her, you—"

He cut himself off.

The squires looked at each for a second, bewildered, because why was a lowly stable boy trying to lecture them on anything?

"She's the Crown Princess," the taller one of them said, frowning, "It's our business, too."

Hajime knew they were right. And he hated it so much. Hated that they spoke your name so freely without knowing the sound of your laughter when you used to run through the meadows, leaving him and his master to trail after you with Juno as a young steed in tow-rope, or the way you wrinkled your nose when the wind carried chimney smoke through the card over during winter.

They didn't deserve to have your name in their mouths.

His fists trembled, but he turned away. He didn't want to feel this way, but everything in him couldn't breathe at the news he had heard, couldn't will his heart to stop pounding so loud.

You weren't a prize.

Not when you had asked his name; not what he was called, but his name, and now you were to be given to somebody who didn't know the way you picked at your dress like you didn't want to be wearing the tulle, the way you nodded and acknowledged Irihata, the way you stepped back to allow him, Iwaizumi Hajime with dust on his face, to go through when it was he, who would wait until the ends of earth for you.

He pressed his forehead to the mare's neck he was grooming, teeth digging into the pillow of his lower lip. Anger swelled in his chest again, but it wasn't even aimed at the Lords, not even at the Regent who offered you up like meat, no, he was furious with himself. For not being more. For being born all wrong and low and worthless. For all the ways he held back speaking to you, even though he knew he had no place doing so.

"I love you, Princess," he whispered into the warm skin of the horse, the words sharp and mocking, "Let me bring you flowers with hands that smell like horse piss."

And you would never know. Could never know. Would be married before the month was even over, somebody lifting your hand to their lips, somebody who wasn't worthy of you.

It was bitter, the shame he felt almost at once. He had no claim, no place, no right.

And yet—

Something inside him twisted when he imagined another man riding for you. Not even because they loved you, but because you were something to win, something to conquest. That thought tasted worse than shame. So no, he didn't have any claim.

But then again, none of them did.

He lifted his head, his master's grumbling faint in the background, the smell of animal evident, the heat on his back from where the sun peeked through the wooden planks stark. Yet, everything in him quieted.

They wouldn't know him if he—

No. He couldn't. This was an official tournament. If he got unmasked, he would fear more than just to be shamed. He would be impersonating noble blood, him, who was a peasant. Imprisoned for years to come at best, executed at worst.

Yet.

And yet.

His fingers tightened on the brush he was holding. How many nights had he ridden beneath the moon, name hidden, besting boys who boasted of their fathers like it was their achievement to talk about?

How many times had he felt the ache in his arms from ramming lances against other knights, from swinging swords that required a higher body class than his, blocking and parrying strikes with the dented metal of his armour because he couldn't afford shields? How many times he shuddered of the surge of victory and thought, if only you could see him now?

You weren't theirs to win. You weren't his to win.

And yet, in that moment, he wanted to ride. Not for a crown he didn't care about, not for gold that never satisfied him, not even for your hand.

He wanted to ride so they'd see you. Not as a prize, not as a fancy ribbon or an ornament. He wanted to ride so you'd be worth protected.

Hajime ignored the thought that sneaked through the grass of his mind like a snake poised to attack that maybe, just once, you might see him, too.

hanamaki takahiro. — court jester.

The clang of steel on steel rang out in the training yard, each blow echoing with more pride than the intention to practise. Hanamaki leaned against the stone archway with a plum in his hand and an amused smirk in the other, cutting the fruit slowly with a short dagger as knights sweated through drills in their gleaming half-armour, trying to coax their opponent to look more fatigued than they were.

To him, their sweat looked the same, but oh well, who was he to judge any of their training?

"Is that Sir Haiba or a butcher swinging blindfolded?"

Hanamaki was the fool of the court, after all.

Lev faltered at the call-out, the arc of his sword stuttering and he missed a block at the right time, taking a blow to the shoulder that cracked across the yard, and he stumbled back, three steps — but it wasn't like Hanamaki counted.

His teeth sank into a slice of the plum, sweet juice spilling out, coating his lips in a smug red.

"I would apologise if I were to be sorry, good knight," he added, enjoying the embarrassed blush spreading on Lev's cheeks, "But then I would be lying, and whilst I may be in the habit of it, I could never hide a truth like yours. Your impersonation of a goose is most amusing."

There were other knights, younger in age and experience, who snorted unceremoniously; their laughter proof of an immaturity only adolescence can carry without shame, not yet burdened by the weight of wisdom. Some others tried not to. The older knights, though, barely flinched, too jaded by discipline, or maybe they were too tired.

Hanamaki eyed those especially long and ate another slice.

His motley was bright in the shadow and even brighter when he stepped out into the sun, and when he passed a passing squire, he held up his hand as if to share a secret, yet his voice carried over the yard, "Everyone's training like their lives depend on it. If I didn't know better, I'd think there was something worth impressing someone for."

A few of the knights exchanged glances, like they had been caught. He saw that one of them stiffened, the metal of their armour glinting in the sunlight with the minuscule movement, flashing him a secret code of guilt.

Good.

From across the yard, a certain man looked up from speaking with a squire. Despite the dangerously charming smile that sat on a mouth that knew to whisper just as many sweet nothings as Hanamaki, he didn't miss the subtle pause, the narrowing of eyes. Oikawa Tooru was always watching, just like him.

Sometimes he liked to perform just a little extra for the Knight Commander. He'd tip toe the edge of propriety with an outrageously flourished bow, a louder insult, a smirk too slow in its widening to be innocent. When a knight dropped his guard, Hanamaki liked to snatch up the fallen blunted sword and salute Oikawa with it like it was a duelling glove before pretending he was just wiping his sweat.

He would speak loudly when Oikawa was near, weaving truth nestled in harmless jokes; truths that Oikawa would hear whether he wanted to or not.

Hanamaki liked to think that the knight didn't just tolerate him, but that he listened. That maybe, beneath the perfect composure he sported, he might have flinched once or twice when the jester spoke of the bitterness of a man who knew he would never be the best.

And when Hanamaki caught Oikawa looking, briefly, no smile, no frown, just an assessing, almost passive stare — then he counted it as a win. Better than applause, better than laughter: acknowledgement.

In a place like this cut-throat court, that was almost as good as power.

"Is there a reason you're bothering trained men at work?" Oikawa called, his tone light and sugary, but with a sharpness that Hanamaki only recognised from how often he had already annoyed the Knight Commander.

Hanamaki grinned, "Trained? God help us all. I thought you were just swinging sticks for the fun of it."

Oikawa ignored the chuckle going around the knights, ignored the bark of another knight from the Crown's Watch that told them to get off their arses and he also ignored the clinking of swords starting up again. Instead, he stepped forward with polished grace, the gold of the kingdom's emblem winking in the sunlight proudly, like he had nothing sharper on his person than his smile.

"Now, Makki — surely, you don't mind if I call you that —" he said, the boyish grin lazy and far too warm; his hand coming up to finger a bell on Hanamaki's cap, his head slightly cocking when no ringing sounded out, "Some of these fine young squires don't know when they're being teased; they might forget you're only playing. Lucky for you, I do."

Hanamaki hummed, tilting his head the same amount of degrees, "How lucky indeed. You've always had a talent for telling jest from threat unless when it's staring you right in your well-groomed face, haven't you?"

"Careful, Jester. Some might take 'well-groomed' as a polite way to say 'horse-faced.'"

The jester stepped back, and even though he bowed as a way to show respect, his eyes never strayed from Oikawa's very own gaze, "Wouldn't you know, Knight Commander?"

He held Hanamaki's stare, his hand sitting on the hilt of his sword comfortably, never faltering, never tightening. Then he turned around as if to leave, adding over his shoulder in a soft voice, "Careful of how deep you bow. Someday, you might forget how to stand up."

Hanamaki thought that he hadn't intended to try and get under Oikawa's skin. He had let himself enjoy it for too long, dipping into the well of exchanging teasing remarks. It certainly wasn't his goal; he wasn't here to play games with the golden boy.

Matsukawa's words came back to him as he stood upright again, cool and quiet, delivered over the rim of a teacup, "Don't look for ambition, Takahiro."

Yeah, he knew.

So he adjusted the tilt of his cap from Oikawa's pull and let his gaze sweep across the yard. The loud ones that boasted, their egos all inflated like those sweet pastries they liked to eat, he ignored. They would trip over their own boots just to catch the princess glance their way; they wanted to win, yes, but they wanted attention more.

Not them.

Then his eyes caught somebody—

Silent. Heavy shoulders, the kind of knight whose presence didn't ask to be noticed. When the others laughed, he didn't so much as blink. He held the blunted sword like it was an extension of his body, like it was only natural for his fingertips to melt together with the leather straps around the hilt.

Hanamaki chewed the inside of his cheek, leaning against a post in the shadows; the sun too hot for his fair skin. He wouldn't approach. Not yet. Better to watch how the others treated him first, if they respected him too easily, if they moved around him without realising that they did.

"Now, you're interesting," he muttered, popping the last slice of plum into his mouth.

you. — crown princess.

The healing room smelt of crushed herbs and death.

Narrow windows opened, there was a soft breeze through the chamber, yet it was not enough to wash away the scent of sick. The king shivered and the window was closed again. Instead, the hearth was lit, even though it was late spring. The crackle of wet logs fought for space to exist against the sound of the king's breathing, ragged and shallow.

You sat beside him, one hand of yours curled in your lap, the other caressing the ashen skin of His Majesty's hand. The hand that once used to ruffle your hair and the hand that gripped the throne's arm until it almost splintered when you refused to listen no longer seemed huge. His veins protruded, pliable under your touch, no strength to even hold his daughter's hand anymore.

His eyes were closed, lips cracked from the amount of mouth breathing he was forced to do. The apothecary hadn't diagnosed anything to be wrong with his nasal airways, yet he still used his mouth, as if the air he could get through his nose alone wasn't enough, like it was dwindling.

He didn't wear his crown. It looked weird seeing him without it. For a time, there was an indent on his forehead from where it was perched atop of his head, sparkling, commanding respect, commanding order, commanding fear. Now his flesh was sweaty, and free of any proof of burden.

The apothecary wove in and out of the room like smoke, muttering to herself, measured; the small glass vials clinking like bones in a pouch. She applied salve to the king's chest in order to ease his chest muscles from working so hard, fed him tinctures drop by drop, rearranged his pillows, adjusted his clothes.

It almost looked like she was preparing him for a death ceremony.

Silently, standing stiffly and upright, was her uncle, the Lord Regent.

He wore no armour, not more than he normally did. At least never in this room. Only his dark velvet, unadorned, simple with a single ring. It was the signet of the realm, the symbol of hope. Or so it said. His heavy eyebrows were drawn together, though the rest of his face was unreadable, no muscles twitching, unmovable — except his eyes. They watched you. They watched the king. They watched the door.

He looked like a man waiting.

Your eyes grazed him, briefly, and when he met your own, he inclined his head in the slightest degree, respectful, practised.

You looked away, jaw tightening.

The apothecary leaned back, wiping her hands and shook her head, "He's sleeping again."

The lord Regent started, voice neutral, flat. "He's fading—"

"He's still there," you replied, interrupting, and this time you looked your uncle straight in the eye without backing down.

iwaizumi hajime. — stable boy.

Hajime wasn't asleep when the old hinges of the stall doors creaked. He had been lying on his cot, one hand supporting his head, his other lazily settled on his stomach. His eyes were fixed through the cracks of the wooden planks on the ceiling, studying the night sky.

The stars blinked back at him, distant and cold and perfectly content with just being watched. He liked counting them, because each one he looked at reminded him of you. High above, always just out of reach, casting light he had no right to claim.

Tonight, he was halfway to twenty-seven when the creak came. Silent, almost an unsure sound, and the tip toes following them even shyer. He didn't move at first. Just blinked slowly, a string of names entering his head and disappearing just as quickly when he dismissed them. The ones he thought might have entered the stalls were all people who knew the secrets of the floor, who knew which boards sang and which ones kept silent. This, here, was an intruder.

He sat up and swung his legs over the side of his cot, the straw squished beneath him. Boots beside the bed, but he didn't reach for them; he was quieter without.

When he sneaked down, his fingers wrapped around the handle of a hammer.

Just in case.

masako. — lady-in-waiting.

"Where has she gone off to, now? It's night time already," a huff of frustration, "She is going to be my ruin."

"I don't know, Madam."

"Go look for her."

"Yes, Madam."

you. — crown princess.

"What business have you got here?"

Heart lurching, falling right into your stomach with a start, you whirled around, traitorous hood of your cloak slipping, and you met the widened brown eyes of the stable boy.

His hand was slightly raised, the hammer glinting dimly and—

A soft thud echoed in the quiet of the night, your eyes flicking down as the tool slipped from his grasp and landed hard on the ground— no, his foot. A sharp hiss escaped him but he didn't flinch or step back, instead, something stilled within him and his hand, raised to strike, dropped to his side instantly, still as water.

Your breath caught at the sight of him, of this rough man standing rigid despite the pain, breathing out, low and and steady: "…Your Highness."

As if your title was both a damned curse and a whispered prayer.

Your chest tightened and without thinking, you took a step forward, hands lifting as if to kneel beside him, to ask if he was hurt, if he needed help. It gnawed at you how little Hajime seemed to notice the throbbing in his foot, how much he bore quietly.

Before you could even bend, before you could even rustle the your night gown underneath your cloak, he straightened up, sharp and quick, as if the very act of your worry was something he couldn't stand.

"You shouldn't, Your Highness," he said, his voice scratchy and raw.

His foot was bleeding, and the urge to approach him caught beneath the weight of the rules you had known since you could think. Your mouth opened and closed again — yeah. You shouldn't. That was what it always was. You shouldn't. He was a stable boy and you were a princess and princesses bowed before no one but the crown. Because it always came down to that.

Fighting, right?

Yo you slowly backed up again.

It was quiet for a moment, the warmth in the room hugging you tightly, the holsters behind you that you had intended to borrow one from were like a bell signalling your presence that didn't belong here.

"I wanted to— Juno—" you bit your tongue, harsh, took a second to collect yourself, "I couldn't sleep. I wanted to take Juno out for a ride."

"Allow me, Princess," he offered and his eyes lowered, lashes brushing the apple of his cheeks, "I'll ready him for you. You have no need to fuss yourself over it."

You watched him with a composed silence, the one you carried around when you stood amongst Lords that yanked on your skirts. But it felt different here. The silence felt like it weighed more, like it was heavier. Here, in this stable, he felt larger than you, like he belonged and you were the odd one out. There was a tug in your chest, one that wanted to belong, too.

You let him reach for the saddle, the bridle, the saddle pad with an ease that only came from having done so a hundred of times. You were sure you would have woken up everybody on this farm trying to find all you needed for your horse had he not stopped you. The saddle was seemingly weightless in his arms, the linen tunic bulging around his arms when he cradled it close.

"Are you going to tell on me?"

He paused, his knuckles whitening on the leather strap in his hand, his eyes glancing to you for only a moment before looking away, "If…that's what you want, Your Highness, then yes."

"And if it isn't? If it's you, Hajime, and you alone."

The air shifted for a moment, and when he turned to you, his hair longer than a year ago, falling a bit into his eyes, his voice was a tad softer, truer, "Then I won't."

No bow. No title. Just the truth.

"…Your Highness."

Or maybe not.

unknown. — mercenary.

"I'm just sayin', ya can't trust a man who turns down hot stew."

"An' I'm saying, not every meal has to be hot," the mercenary snapped back at his brother, heated, "Sometimes cold's better, builds character better too. Not that you would know."

A third voice, bored, "Didn't you cry over lukewarm porridge once?"

"I didn't cry, I was delirious from blood loss. Naturally, I'd hafta appreciate a good meal like that."

A low whistle, "Delirious and ugly. What a sight ya were."

"At least, I didn't scare that healer half to death with my face."

The black-haired mercenary, eyes slanted and sharp, thought about breaking the brothers up.

Yeah, no, that was it — he only thought about it. It was pretty entertaining, he had to admit.

"We've the same face, ya dick."

"Mine's prettier."

"Pretty enough the tavern girl last week thought ya were a barmaid."

"No way in hell—"

Their brawl started again, and a sigh escaped him, "If this is what I have to listen to before the job, I want hazard pay."

"Shut yer trap." — "If ya wanna eat metal so bad, I've got enough of that shit to shove up yer arse."

you. — crown princess.

You didn't speak.

The warm night cloaked you like a blanket, the canopy of trees swaying above you alongside the wind. The forest wasn't silent at night, not completely. It breathed within the subtle shifting on the grounds from animals coming out to peek who was disturbing their peace, but who scuttled away just as fast when they registered the steady rhythm of hooves on soft, soaked earth.

Hajime rode beside you. Not quite beside you, he was still behind you in deference, but close enough to reach for your reins if you happened to slip. Close enough to catch you. You weren't sure whether to be insulted or grateful that he didn't allow you to venture out on your own.

Well, he also didn't quite forbid you from it, not outright — you didn't think he would ever, but when he had fitted your horse with the saddle, his hand absentmindedly and instinctively drifted up to scratch your stallion's withers like he had done so a thousand times. You had stepped forward toward the stall, fingertips brushing the leather, and he had pulled the reins away.

Not rushed or aggressive, not in a way that told you he refused but with something gentler coating the action. His head had raised slightly, and he had said, voice quiet but not unsure, "I can't let you ride into the woods alone."

You had frowned then.

You didn't come to be chaperoned, you had come here to escape, to take your mind off the thick scent within the healing room, but then he hurried to add, "I mean no disrespect, Your Highness. If you'll have me — I know every misgrown root, every fox hole."

With parted lips, you had wanted to respond, but then your gaze had caught on the way he stood even though his head was bowed. Not with defiance, not even in submission, not with the burden of being in your presence. He stood like devotion had a shape. Evident in the trembling of his muscles, the calm rise of his chest, as though the weight of your safety had settled in his bones and he chose it so. Like he couldn't leave your security up to chance.

So you said, simply, "I'll have you."

He didn't speak either, but so he was always. Hajime was quiet, and you liked the quiet that came with him. Out here, it wasn't heavy and it wasn't expectant. Almost, you even felt seen and left untouched.

You glanced at him once and for a fleeting second, you almost mistook him for one of your usual retinue. The moon liked him, you thought offhandedly, because it lingered on his face like it couldn't get enough of him, like it trusted him, touching his face with gentler hands than the sun ever had.

He looked like—

He really did look like a knight.

It wasn't his clothing nor his station, nor the way he bowed his head when he noticed you looking. It was the way he rode the horse with ease, his hand lightly resting on the horn, his eyes drifting away from you at once when you turned your head, always evading your gaze.

He rode like your safety was more important than his own.

"You always ride like that?"

His eyes kept down on the shifting of his horse's mane, "Like what?"

"Like the woods are yours."

His posture stiffened almost instantly, as though he had done something wrong, as though you had caught him doing something wrong. He straightened in the saddle, not sharp, not alerted, but like the words struck something within him.

"I didn't mean—" he started, the words tumbling out, his ears darker than the rest of his face, "I'd never claim anything that wasn't mine to touch. Least of all whilst you're—" he bit the rest of it back, jaw tightening like he had tasted something bitter, "Forgive me, Your Highness."

You blinked. That hadn't been the tone you'd meant, not truly. It was just how natural he belonged amongst the nature, how breathless it made you to see Hajime lead his horse, muzzle caressing Juno's flank slightly to have your stallion change his own direction.

But now it lingered between you now, this thing that hung in the dark like something fragile and easily misunderstood.

You watched Hajime, the way his brows furrowed like he was beating himself up, the veins at his throat pulled tight with restraint. So careful, this man who knew how to ride in silence and disappear behind bowed heads. He almost reminded you of a memory, a glint on black metal amongst the warm orange flicker of torches.

"What's my name?" you asked, a whim that befell you at the memory.

His eyes lifted, snapping to you with confusion, hesitation, "Your Highness."

You let the silence stretch for just a beat longer than what felt natural, then asked again, more gently this time, "No, Hajime. What's my name?"

Something flickered in his face and his teeth dug deep into his mouth.

"Princess," he said at last, and this time the word sounded like it scraped the inside of his mouth, like it pained him. He cast his gaze away, like he was ashamed he hadn't spoken the truth, or maybe ashamed that he had wanted to in the first place.

You knew he knew it, could see it in the way his fingers clenched around the horn of the saddle. He knew your name and he had known it since you were children, ever since you kept sneezing by the orchard fence and he had brought you water, ever since your guard had slapped the water from his hands because it couldn't be trusted.

He hadn't said it.

And you let it go, instead— "Answer the question like another squire asked you. Like you got dared to."

Hajime hesitated, then gave a short laugh under his breath, and it sounded reluctant, but warm, relieved. Bitterly, you noted the relief and swallowed the thought squirming into your conscience that you could force him if you really wanted to, that you could order him.

"I've been here longer than I'd been in court. I trust the trees more than most men, too."

"Still sounds like a claim."

"Not a claim, Your Highness," and this time, the title felt like a caress, "I'm just familiar with it, is all."

You didn't correct him that you thought it was still a claim. You also didn't tell him that it didn't bother you if it was, that he didn't feel so far beneath you when you both existed together like that, that you wondered what your name might sound like spoken in his voice.

The path narrowed under a low arch of trees, their leaves dripping with the ghost of yesterday's rain. Your horse slowed and his followed. Quiet had stretched between you again, though once more, it was not heavy. Soft, like the hush of the night before morning arrived and the flowers bloomed.

"I used to think the forest was a place to disappear."

He didn't say anything, so you continued on, "But tonight, they kind of feel like a place to exist."

Hajime was quiet for a moment, "They hold things well."

"Secrets? Memories?"

"Amongst other things, Princess."

"People, too?"

The hooves were muffled, a breeze rustling the leaves of the trees above you, a hoot of an owl floating between you, and when he spoke, his voice was barely above the bird's, "If they want to."

You turned your head towards him, searching his profile in the moonlight, horse neighing beneath you, "Do you?"

He didn't answer at first, like he always weighed his words carefully, what to reveal, what to keep secret, then he swallowed, his throat bobbing.

"I think I did, once," his eyes flitted over to you and sank immediately when they found yours. You wished he would stop doing that, "I think I still do."

You knew what he meant, because when the trees curved around you, their shadows falling long and the wind carried the scent of moss and bark, you almost smelt freedom within the notes. Your hands loosened their hold on the reigns, allowing Juno a bit more of that which you so desperately wanted.

It was the first time someone had said something real to you in days. Weeks, maybe.

Out here, riding in the dark, letting Juno lead you, you didn't have to do anything. Not be a heir to a dying kingdom, not be the girl with too many eyes on her and too many hands meddling in. Here, you were just a figure on a horse.

And he—

Hajime lived in this freedom. The dirt, the sweat, the sky above his head. He didn't have to deal with the court, didn't have to deal with expectations. Almost, you envied him for it, for the way he knew his way amongst the roots, how his horse responded to the lightest shift of his body, how he didn't need a dozen guards to grant him permission to breathe.

A soft laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it.

He looked over again, brows still furrowed slightly, "Have I said anything funny?"

"No," you shook your head, wind brushing your cheeks, the corner of your mouth curving up, "It's just strange. You've got everything I've dreamed of having."

His face was impassive, his jaw tightening imperceptibly.

"Freedom," you added, voice quieter, cheeks burning, "And the right to go wherever you want."

"You say that like it doesn't cost me."

Another heartbeat later, as you expected, as he always did: "Your Highness."

His words stayed quiet, but there was something sharper in his tone that cut through the softness of the night, not aimed at you. At least, it didn't feel like it was. Veiled in the half-light, his face, for a flicker, betrayed bitterness.

A tightening at the corners of his mouth, a pull between his brows like something stirred that he had denied for so long. His jaw clenched with restraint, an onslaught of words he tried to swallow, the type of restraint people learned when no one listened. The one kind you knew well.

His face smoothed out almost as soon as it surfaced, turning his gaze to the trees again like they were safer to look at, like he hadn't meant to say anything, and for a second, inside your chest, something unravelled and you thought you should have known better than to say something so stupid.

iwaizumi hajime. — stable boy.

He regretted saying anything when he recognised the embarrassed look on your face. Hajime's words came out too sharp, too bare, as if he meant to scold you, as if he meant to humiliate you.

He winced inwardly, jaw tight, cursing himself for letting honesty slip past his restraint. You hadn't deserved to hear it as a challenge. What right did he have, really, to sound bitter in front of you?

He wanted to tell you that you didn't have to feel embarrassed, that he had embarrassed himself.

you. — crown princess.

The trees opened up ahead, revealing a small clearing, the moon spilling onto the canvas of the earth freely now. You slowed your horse without thinking, and he did the same.

As soon as Juno stilled, when you made a move to dismount, he was already there with a swift move, one hand gripping the reins to keep your stallion serene. Except when you shifted your weight onto your foot, it slipped.

Because it wasn't your riding boots you wore, but slippers that had been dirtied from your walk.

Your heart lurched alongside his hands as they darted out to catch you, grasping your waist with warmth, fingers brushing your lower rib cage. You breathed heavy from the shock reverberating in your chest, from the way Juno shifted, from the way your weight was upheld by Hajime.

The woods had gone utterly still, as if it coyly decided to retreat, leaving you to your fate. His hands, strong and sure, held you like something precious, like something that he didn't want to break. The space between your bodies was barely a whisper; your heartbeat stuttered, then galloped like a startled doe.

You could feel his pulse through your fingers, the tension in his arms where he gripped you, and your cloak slipped, caught between the two of you, pooling over his shoulder and down his back.

Looking down at him, the sight of how he looked up at you with his brows pulled together in concern, the way his face was flushed and his mouth moved made something strange bloom inside your chest.

Hajime's voice was hoarse when he finally managed to form words, lowering you down, his breath caressing your face, "You— you shouldn't be—"

"I forgot my boots," you said like you weren't breathless, like your heart wasn't stumbling over itself, like your skin didn't vow to remember every place he touched.

He blinked, flustered, and then stepped back, hands still hovering in the air like they hadn't wanted to part, like they also remembered the curve of your waist, unsure if he was allowed to laugh at what you said, unsure if he dared.

Instead, he cleared his throat, his voice a low murmur, "Your footwear isn't made for this ground," his eyes wandered over your form like he was searching, "You could've been hurt, Princess."

"I'm just startled," you let out a small breath, hand coming up to brush along Juno's neck, grounding yourself in his warmth and steadiness. Your smile came belated, a little shaky. "You caught me."

Hajime's throat bobbed, gaze dropping, and for a moment he said nothing, lips parting as if to decide what to say, but then he nodded, a single, short motion. Like, of course he would catch you.

You turned around, adjusting your cloak back over your shoulders, covering the night gown that peeked out from underneath, entirely shameless, entirely inappropriate. His horse huffed, and life returned to your ears.

"I remember you," you said because you did, because touching him reminded you of when he carried you, and you said it so quietly you didn't know if he caught it. "From before."

Hajime stilled. His shoulders didn't move, but you saw the breath leave him, sharp and low. His expression didn't twist either, but his eyes held a wild depth.

"That's dangerous talk, Your Highness," he said roughly, voice hushed.

You wanted to ask him what he would say if you weren't wearing a crown, but you weren't sure he would answer and you weren't sure what it would mean if he did.

iwaizumi hajime. — stable boy.

He loved you, he thought as struggled forcing down the ocean rising within him. God, he loved you.

kaede. — merchant.

A scream pierced the stillness of the night.

Kaede woke up with a start, the alcohol in his veins not yet evaporated, so his right temple pounded, nose stuffy, his senses scrambling at the sudden intrusion. What the hell—?

"Guards! Oh, god, th—blood— guards! Somebody h-help!"

On the way to his window, Kaede fell three times and bumped against the edge of his broken table once. He shoved it open, clumsy fingers, the cool night air hitting his face like a slap.

Lanterns swayed in his vision and he blinked, shutters creaked open from where others peeked out, alarmed when the screaming didn't stop — it came from a harlot, her dress red and barely leaving anything to anybody's imagination, tits almost spilling out, kneeled next to an unmoving figure.

"Won't someone—! Please, oh go-oh," a sob, "Oh, god."

you. — crown princess.

"My Lady, I thought we talked about this. You cannot keep doing it. Must I remind you of what we spoke about? Do you want them to talk?"

Despite her harsh voice, she picked twigs and leaves out of your hair with soft fingers, "I was only riding Juno. I wasn't even gone long."

"You were missing. At night. With no escort. It doesn't matter how long gone you were. Lucky. Dare I say, you were lucky the Commander had a good guess where you'd gone."

"…he guessed?"

"Guessed. And sent a man after you before the Lord Regent could hear of it," her hand trembled against your head, "Your title doesn't come off with your riding boots, child, no matter how much you want to escape."

"…I wasn't wearing riding boots."

"Don't you be clever with me. Do you understand what would have happened if something had gone wrong? If you had fallen? If word got out that you were alone—"

Your voice was tentative, almost shy, "I wasn't alone."

"A stable boy doesn't count, not for company nor as a guard. You best make sure to remember that. Now up, your night gown is filthy."

matsukawa issei. — spymaster.

Curious.

He watched the three men bicker amongst themselves as they moved through the alleys like the space belonged to them. Not like drunks for their voices were hushed enough, for they moved without real purpose in their paths yet every step was conscientious.

Very curious.

Matsukawa slid back into the shadows as easily as he emerged, his shoes silent, breath shallow.

iwaizumi hajime. — stable boy.

The forest was quiet, in the way that only trees could give it. A subtle hum of life carried through the breeze, a sound that spoke of nature and magic, that dismissed all human interference.

Hajime had come here many times before, but tonight felt different.

Tonight, he did not come to see solace in the shadows of the woods; tonight, he came with your perfume still clinging to the fabric of his linen shirt, with the imprint of your skin still on his hand. Tonight, he carried inside his chest a token — the rare, breathless sound you made when you let yourself forget that you were royalty.

He came to reclaim the part of him that he had buried long ago.

His hands trembled as they dug into the earth, urgency pulling at his fingers, asking him to hurry, because if he didn't slice through the cool, wet dirt right now, the night would fade. He paused, breath uneven, sweat beading at his brow even though the air was colder now, crisp as a slight breeze hugged him.

Weight sat on his shoulders, his chest, his knees.

Hajime couldn't help but wonder if you had felt it too, the charge. Whether you had known that he had wished he could kiss you senseless. His heart hurt, the way you had looked at him not with pity, not with curiosity, but like he was there.

His fingers met something cold, hard. With a grunt, he tugged the old helmet free, watching as the soil slid off it, unveiling the familiar, worn texture. The edges were dented from past use, the steel blackened from the lack of coating and caring, dirt wedged in between the crevices from past scratches.

It wasn't like the polished, shiny helmets the other knights wore. But it was his, his and no one else's.

He placed it on the ground, in the patch of dewy moss that was its throne. His hands hovered above it for a moment as if unsure whether he should put it on or leave it buried, and the wind settled down, like it knew it should allow Hajime this moment.

He had buried it here, because he had no right to wear it. He had thought that by hiding it, he could bury the boy who dreamed of proving himself, the boy who was foolish enough to think he could stand beside knights, and would stop pretending he belonged.

He had promised himself that it was the last time. No more fantasies or delusions.

The helmet's eye slit stared at him, intently, the shadow hidden behind the metal a replica of his own desires that asked too much, that threatened to devour him whenever his gaze strayed too far and found yours. That made him remember the way you felt against him, how you looked down at him from where he had held you up, hair brushing his cheek, heart squeezing at how dry his throat became because god, you were gorgeous.

You were gorgeous and you were miles away.

I remember you.

This would be the last time, Hajime told himself, and he didn't know whether his words were tinged with lies or not, whether he was burying his dream or digging it back up.

𓐩 ADDENDUM; — iwaizumi doesn't allow anybody to touch, brush or otherwise groom juno. he says it's because he doesn't trust they do a good enough job, but in reality, he wants this part of you to be his' only. — i was so close to have hanamaki and oikawa have a scene right in front of everybody. the sexual tension was off the charts writing it. — the unclaimed blade mentioned by the squires is a sword made by a famous swordsmith; it's enchanted to never dull and always strike true. it was given to the knight commander who used it as a means to spike the curiosity of other knights and to gather contenders for the first illegal nightly knight tournament. hajime won that year and never claimed it because he didn't think it was his to claim. it's a symbol of power and glory. he told himself it's because he would stray away from the essence of what a knight should do, namely to fight for something personal and pure, but really, he was just scared that people would find out who he was, that you would find out what he was doing.

𓐩 TAGLIST; @sodaneko ; @ottocre ; @mellozhi ; @cr4yolaas ; @inszan1ty ; @sahrberrii ; @pomigranit ; @ghostjoohoney ; @biancaackerman ; @takes1 ; @tsukisangel ;

[lavandulawrites]

Still Waters

Yandere Nøkken/Nicker (water elf) x reader

Authors note: listening to Grieg while writing this was definitely an experience<3This is my first time writing an x reader with one of my ocs and I had a lot of fun:) If you have any requests or questions about Nøkken or Eilif as my original character’s name is, please let me know!<3

Nøkken/nicker is a Norwegian urban legend. He is a water creature that drags his victims under water. He is known to take many forms, a horse and a beautiful man some of them. (More info at the bottom)

Synopsis: you find yourself by a lake in search of water for your village after your well has run dry. By the door of the lake you met a mysterious man with long black hair playing the fiddle.

Masterlist

Eilif’s (yandere water elf) Character Profile

Warnings: mentions of drowning, manipulation, mention of previous murders, original character, Norwegian folklore,

Word count: 2478

The water in the stream was unruly as you came out onto the lush clearing. The sun was getting low and you regretted going out so late. The well by your small village had run dry, so you were forced to go out and gather water yourself.

A crow cawed in one of the treetops before it took off. As you watched the majestic bird soar over the orange sky, the hair in the back of your neck rose. You knew all too well that venturing outside at dusk was dangerous. Your grandmother had told you tales about beings that resided deep in the forest that lusted for human blood. You had long refused to believe in such stories, but tonight you couldn’t stop your fantasy from running wild.

The sound of a twig snapping pulled you out from your thoughts. Your eyes scanned the stream. It was empty. You sighed in relief as you began your trek up the stream and towards the little lake.

In contrast to the stream the lake was completely still. The beautiful colours from the sky reflected onto the surface. A warm summer breeze gently ruffled your hair as you put your two buckets down on the soft grass.

The gentle melody of a fiddle filled the air. Your heart hammered in your chest as you slowly rose your head.

There on a moss grown stone sat a man. His eyes closed as he played. He had long, slightly wavy hair that reached a little below his elbows. He was truly beautiful.

His eyes slowly opened as his melody came to an end. He tilted his head slightly as he smiled.

“Hello” his voice deep. He shifted his position on the stone and leaned slightly back in a relaxed manner.

“Hello. Beautiful playing” you answered with a shaky voice. The air around him seemed otherworldly. Your intuition told you to run. To run as far away as humanly possible, but something made you determined to stay.

“Thank you” he smiled. “Enjoying the view?” he asked. His green-yellow eyes studied you intensely.

“Umm… I suppose so” you shifted on your feet.

He nodded towards your buckets. “Are you from the village nearby? I have seen you multiple times here. Your well has dried up, if I remember correctly?” he leaned forward slightly.

“Yeah…” your voice low. “It’s my turn to get water” you forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

He hummed. “I see…” He rose from the stone and slowly walked towards you.

In a blink of an eye he was a few centimetres away from you. His tall stature towering over you. His thin hand gently raised and twisted a strand of your hair around thin fingers. “You are beautiful” he whispered.

You swallowed at his closeness. “Thank you” you smiled slightly back at him. His eyes shone through the dusk light.

“It’s rather rude how your village let you go out here all by yourself. It’s dangerous, plus those buckets are going to be extremely heavy and difficult to carry” his voice was laced with concern.

A shiver ran down your back at his words. He was of course right. It was dangerous, but you didn’t have any choice. You shook your head “Thank you for your concern, but I will be alright. Now if you would excuse me. I need to fill my buckets.”

He blinked slightly before he regained his composure. “Of course” he nodded. He turned and walked towards the stone to pick up his fiddle. His black hair gently rustled in the wind.

You turned your attention to your buckets. You cursed yourself for not bringing the iron buckets as those where much easier to carry than the wooden ones. The water rippled as you brought your first bucket down. A lily pad almost got caught in it. Its white flower petals broke off and got caught underwater. You watched in silence as the flower disappeared.

You sat your full bucket behind you before you started to fill the next one. Water slowly filled the bucket as you stared out into the horizon. The landscape around the lake was beautiful and reminded you of the beautiful paintings you had seen hung in the village church. The trees were lush with green leafs that reached high up towards the sky.

You were about to set your bucket down behind you when you saw a small ripple in the still lake. Your senses were on alert as you scanned the waters. All you could see was beautiful waterlilies. You were about to stand up when something pulled you underwater.

You screamed as something grabbed your right hand. You tried to resist with wriggling and kicking against its hold, but to no avail. It was way too strong. It dragged you further down the dark and chilly lake. You were grateful you automatically took a deep breath when it started pulling you down.

A few light rays shone through the surface and aided your eyes.

With the light you were able to fully open your eyes and see what had dragged you down. The first thing you noticed was a pale hand that tightly held your wrist. The next thing you noticed was long wavy black hair that danced as the creature dove. You suddenly regained the control over your body and you clawed at the hand.

The creature only tightened its hold as it swam faster.

It didn’t take long before you started to choke at the lack of air. You screamed through a closed mouth in fear. Drowning had always seemed extremely terrifying and now as it was happening you had never been more afraid.

The last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you was a cave that lead up to the surface.

Your eyes snapped open and you coughed up water. Whit each couch your lungs protested. Your lungs were on fire and it hurt.

Your eyes darted up towards the sky and you blinked hard as a way to clear your foggy vision. The sight that met your eyes was the sky that was almost completely dark and a face more beautiful than every prince you had ever seen the portraits of. Back started a pair of green-yellow eyes accompanied by long black lashes.

“You’re awake” his voice gentle and filled with relief. “I was getting worried” your eyes shifted to his mouth were you could see four sharp fangs.

You swallowed as your chest heaved up and down. Your nostrils flared as you tried to control your rapid breathing.

The man above you cup you face gently. He stroked his thumbs over your cheekbones and you could feel the ghost of claw-like nails. “Shushhhh….. It’s okay. You’re okay” he shushed you gently.

“Who are you? What happened? Where am I?” your voice was loud and panicked as you looked around. You were by a lake you had never seen surrounded by beautiful wild flowers and the greenest grass.

“Do you really not know? I am sure you must have an inkling feeling of who I am? Right?” he rose his brow as he leaned back. He was straddling you, but he didn’t put his full weight in you. His lips widened slightly up into a little smile.

“I don’t…” you shook your head.

“I see…” he nodded. “It doesn’t matter. Not when you are here. Oh, you have no idea how long I have waited” he grinned. He stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. He sat up, causing his black blouse to slid slightly off his shoulder revealing pale skin and some of his lean body.

He stood up and offered you his hand. His hand was cold as you took it. His hand was dry despite him just recently being underwater. He dragged you up with ease and he supported your wobbly knees by holding onto your shoulders as to stabilise you.

“Let me show you my home. The one on the surface that is” he gestured towards a house at the foot of the lake. It was in medium size decorated with fishing nets and bones of various species. Some flowerpots were hanging underneath some of the windows creating a stark contrast between the different aesthetics.

“It not like the royal castle, but it isn’t so bad” he chuckled softly. “I’ll prepare some supper for you.”

You froze in your tracks as you let your eyes fully scan your surroundings. Now that you were standing, you were able to see that you really weren’t near the lake he had dragged you under.

“Aren’t you coming?” he tilted his head.

You nodded slightly. You decided it was better to do as he said rather than getting drowned in the deep lake.

His house was surprisingly cozy. It was decorated in various dark greens and dark blues. Rosemaling in green and blue littered the walls and cabinets.

“Take a seat” he pulled out one of the kitchen chairs.

You did as he said. The chair groaned slightly underneath your weight. And you almost felt guilty dripping water all over his chair. Your gaze trained on his back as he lit the stove and began preparing the fish. He was seemingly skilled in the kitchen as his movements were as fluid as waves.

In a blink of an eye were a plate of fish and steaming potatoes sat in front of you. It smelled heavenly and you sighed.

He chuckled at your reaction. “It will taste even better”. “Do you want some water?” he sat a glass of water in front of you.

You hesitated as you stared the glass of water down. Your heart rate quickened as cold sweat ran down your back. You could see your reflection on the surface.

He took a seat before you. The chair legs scraped against the floor. “Are you alright?”

When you failed to answer him, his eyes widened slightly. “Oh” he stifled a laughter. “You finally realised who I am then” he nodded.

You didn’t take your eyes away from the glass. “If I drink this I’m dead” your voice quiet.

“Why would you be dead? It’s just water.”

“Because I didn’t drown when you dragged me under. If I drink this, I will drown when I swallow” your eyes rose and met his. His expression was unreadable as he stared back at you.

“And why is that? Why would you drown?” his voice devoid of emotion.

“Because… because you are… Nøkken” your voice a mere whisper that was more fragile than a crisp autumn leaf.

He leaned back in his chair. “Nøkken… not many dare say that name” his lips curled up in a small smile.

You gulped. You adverted your gaze from his intense eyes. You were filled with hopelessness and you couldn’t help the crystal tears that fell from your eyes.

“I didn’t try to drown you. I just wanted to bring you here” his voice broke the silence.

You looked back up at him. Confusion clearly written on your face.

“Why would I kill you? You really have no idea about all the effort I went through. Drying that well was no easy task, I tell you that. Not when it was as deep as it was. But I did indeed enjoy luring those crudes you call neighbours, to my lake. Those pitiful screams surly made my day” he sighed in delight. “No, I would never in my wildest dreams kill you, [Name]” he reached for your hand. His long fingers gently wrapped around your hand. “Besides, you didn’t feel thirsty when you woke up did you?” he smiled.

You blinked as you shook your head. No, you had not been thirsty at all. The tales your grandmother had told you said that the victim that was saved from drowning would be thirsty afterwards. When they drank, they would drown on their drink. For such is the power of Nøkken.

“But why?” you asked.

“Because I love you” his smiled widely and his eyes were filled with emotion deeper than the lake he had dragged you under.

You suddenly stood up, causing the chair to fall. “I want to go home” you tried your best to not show fear. It suddenly hit you that he knew your name even though you had never told him. Were you really safe at home? Most likely not.

“No” his voice quiet. He slowly rose to his feet. He stalked towards you like the predator he was.

You backed away from him. Your back hit the wall as you cowered in on yourself. His steps was slow as his eyes looked into yours with determination. “You belong to me. You have belonged to me since the moment I saw you. When you listened to my playing and bared your soul for me by complimenting me, your fate was sealed” his voice was eerie quiet.

He slammed his hands on either side of your head and leaned down. “There is no fighting it. You humans are nothing compared to non-humans. But don’t be afraid. I will never hurt you. Never” he cupped your face. “Since I know your name, it is only fair that I give you mine. That should show you how deep my love for you runs” he looked you deep into your eyes. His eyes more vibrant than ever before. “My name is Eilif.”

“Eilif…” you tasted it on your tongue out loud. A beautiful name which meant alone or immortal. Your face lit up. You knew his name. You knew Nøkken’s name. “Eilif” you said with such determination like ever before.

The man in front of you froze before he lifted an eyebrow. “You thought by calling my name out, I would be forced to let you go. Which is true has it not been for two things”. He raised one finger “Firstly you already let me take a hold of your soul when you gave me your sincere compliments”. He lifted a second finger “Secondly, I didn’t try to drown you. Had I tried just that, then maybe saying my name would have worked.”

You looked at him like a gapping fish. He cooed as he closed your mouth with a thin finger. “Don’t be so surprised darling. Don’t you for one second doubt my devotion to you” he smiled wildly, showing his sharp fangs. He pulled you into a tight embrace. He rested his head on top of your head as he sighed in glee. “You and I will be by each other’s side for eternity. I cannot describe the joy I feel. All my work finally paid off. A man can’t ask for anything better” he kissed the top of your head with his soft lips.

As the Eilif hugged you, you knew that all hope was lost. For how could a mere human compared with the urban legend himself?

Dictionary

Nøkken (nicker in English) explanation: Nøkken is a Norwegian urban legend about a creature that lures people down the depths of waters and wells. He is described to take many forms, a beautiful man one of them. If you hear him playing the fiddle you can learn from him and become exceptionally good, but you would then have sold your soul to the devil. I have made my own version of Nøkken in this fic.

Rosemaling/rose painting: A traditional Norwegian painting technique which consists of rose like motives which is often painted on walled, shelves, cabinets, doors, bowls, spoons and etc.

[mechncheese]

Wait you’re in an animation program at a school? Do you have any tips for someone about to go into a 2D animation course?

I wish I could offer more good animation-related advice but my experience has been a lot of allnighters, grinding, and endless balancing on top of being the number one procrastinator. Here are some general tips I've learned </3 Looking at this now, this is just advice rather than tips oops

Manage your time-- It sounds like very surface level advice but please.. Do not end up like me with 33 scenes to finish in 2 days. I wish I had time management advice but I have the worst management on the planet. I keep everything on a written to-do list taped on the wall and sometimes I forget about it.

You will learn that not everything you make will be up to your own standards or satisfaction. Balancing several classes on top of animation is not easy and sometimes you will end up with work you are not proud of and that's okay. We keep pushing forward and there's always time afterwards to revise. Part of the learning process is accepting that sometimes we flop and sacrifice quality to finish something. Time constraints are something we just have to deal with and it doesn't make us bad animators.

Take video reference for character animation-- It helps a lot. Don't know how a character would bow, jump, or run ? Take a video of yourself doing the action and reference it as you go !

You may be tempted to go above and beyond with every animation assignment given, and that's a good drive to have ! Do not push yourself to burnout though, nothing is worth burnout or carpal tunnel.

Speaking of carpal tunnel, stretch your hands. During long work sessions, stretch at least every hour. Stretch your wrists, back, and legs. Take a walk once in a while, go outside, look at the sky. Looking at a screen for a long period of time will give you crazy headaches. Do not destroy your body for school. PLEASE. Also drink water, too many sweet treats will make you feel sluggish, tired, and icky.

20 minute naps/breaks.. When I'm stuck on a scene and can't get it looking right I straight up nap for like 20 minutes and come back to it. It refreshes my head and I find that I work better after a quick break. Staring at your animation for too long will make you second guess yourself and get frustrated when things are not working out. Take a break and come back, it's gonna be okay, you just need to not look at it for a bit. Adjustments and edits are easier to see and make after a break.

Be open to critique. ask for help if you're stuck-- also sounds like a given but when I first started I was a little stubborn and wanted my ideas and my way of doing things to work really bad. You will find yourself a lot happier with your work when you start taking suggestions and changing your perspective !

Remember you're here to learn ! No one expects you to be a professional animator right off the bat. And don't compare yourself to your peers, we all go at our own pace and we are all students. Make friends, live life, have fun ! I find that the worst years were the ones where I isolated myself working to death trying to get my work to look just right. I'm about to graduate and I wish I learned sooner how green the grass is on the other side of constant grinding. Animation student life is so hard and difficult but it doesn't have to be miserable ! GOOD LUCK OUT THERE SOLDIER !