#her voice just fits some parts of the book so well

[darkacademiaarchivist]

what i really need in my life is an audiobook of one last stop read by Jasika Nicole

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 6: One Step Closer

Summary: You're all trying to adjust to the changes happening between you and the members of your pack.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, some Price x Gaz

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, suggestive content, handjobs, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, language

A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this one and might come back when I feel better and do some changes, but for now, it's fine. Mostly just a filler chapter more than anything. Some sweet moments, some maybe steamy...Building up for some more exciting things coming in the next parts. Also I just wanted to clear something up, pretty much everyone in this universe is at least a little bisexual. That will make sense once you read the chapter.

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(Gif found on Google)

He curses the click of the door as it opens, making sure to go slowly so it doesn’t squeak as it’s prone to when it rains. His lips turn up in a smile as he catches a glimpse at the sight on the couch, no more than half a moment before Price’s honed senses cause him to wake at the change in atmosphere. 

He blinks tired eyes at Gaz, head lifting from where it had drooped to his chest in his sleep. He adjusts his hold on you, still asleep and unaware in the safety of your alpha’s arms. 

“Sleeping in your office again, sir?” Gaz says quietly, stepping closer to the couch. 

Price grunts quietly, shifting his hold on you so he can lift a hand to rub at his eyes. His voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as he answers. “Didn’t mean to.” 

Gaz hums, running a hand through Price’s hair as the air between them changes from Captain and Sergeant to alpha and beta. “Should get you both to bed.” 

“You take her.” Price murmurs. “She’ll forgive you easier for invading her space.” 

Gaz knows he’s right. He’d already been invited in once. His scent in your space would be less jarring than Price’s. Price carefully unravels your arms from around his neck, letting Gaz slip his arms under you to lift you off his lap. You stir slightly at the movement, letting out a quiet grumble. 

“Shh pretty girl.” Gaz shushes you, letting your head rest against his shoulder. “Just taking you to bed.” 

Price follows behind him as he carries you through the halls to your room. You’re asleep by the time he reaches your door, Price opening it for him. Gaz slips in, carrying you to your bed. He makes sure you’re comfortable, tucking the blanket around you before leaning down to kiss your forehead. 

He spares one last glance at you fast asleep before he closes the door, turning to Price. “Your turn.” 

“You gonna carry me too?” Price asks, a playful glint shining in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion. 

Gaz huffs out a laugh. “You wish.” He puts a hand on his back, guiding Price down to his door, closest to the entry to the barracks. 

He follows the alpha into his space, meticulously clean and tidy as usual. They both blink against the harsh overhead light, Gaz leaning against the door as Price begins emptying his pockets, getting settled in his space. 

“She knelt for me tonight.” Price says as he sits at his desk to unlace his boots. 

“She’s making headway.” Gaz replies, surprised that you asked to kneel so soon. He knows how meaningful kneeling is to both alpha and omega, how intense it can be, how much trust there is involved. 

Price hums, standing to remove his pants. “I fear Laswell was right. She’s turning out to be a good fit.” 

“She’s already got Simon worked up.” Gaz smiles, moving to the dresser to fish out clean sleep clothes. “I fear she may be taking a page out of Johnny’s book.” 

“Well, if it gets him to stop torturing himself, then I can’t say I’ll complain.” Price says, pulling his shirt over his head. “You know how he is.” 

“I know.” Gaz says, holding out the clean shirt and sweatpants. “Can’t say I blame him entirely. Not after what he’s been through.” 

Price slips on the clean clothes, stepping closer to Gaz. “He’ll warm up to our girl eventually.” 

“‘Our girl?’” Gaz’s eyebrows lift as Price steps in even closer, their noses brushing. “That’s quite the jump.” 

“She’s been our girl from the start. As soon as those papers were finalized, there was no sending her back.” Price says, pressing a kiss to the corner of Gaz’s lips. “I wouldn’t put her through that. Not after everything.” 

Gaz pulls back, Staring at Price’s face. “You know something.” 

“I wouldn’t say I know anything, but I have my suspicions.” He moves past Gaz, turning off the overhead light. “I know we all do.” 

“You think she’ll tell us?” 

“I think she will, with time. I don’t want to push her into too much too soon.” He pats Gaz on the ass. “Come on, in bed.” 

“Sir, yes sir.” Gaz smirks, Price giving him a look as the beta pulls down the covers, crawling into the bed. 

Price groans internally, trying to calm the twitch in his pants at the mental picture of you, those big puppy eyes shining playfully as you saluted him. The small spark of excitement every time you call him “sir.” How easily you relaxed for him while you knelt, giving over complete trust and control to him for an hour. 

He crawls under the covers, tossing an arm over Gaz, trying to block out all the mental images flashing through his head. 

“Forget something in your pocket, sir?” Gaz says, the smirk evident in his voice.

“Shut it, Garrick.” 

You’re jarred awake by the sound of movement in the hallway. You let out a quiet noise of indignation, letting your eyes close again. It’s too early, around the time the boys leave to go workout. You’ve been graciously given a couple days off to rest and recover, likely Price’s recommendation. You knew if it were up to Ghost, he’d force you to work through the pain. You’re glad for the break, though, and you would be even if you weren’t horribly sore. 

Your head is still spinning a bit from last night. You’re not quite sure how you made it to bed, but the faint scent of clean linen and the sea gives you an idea. You bury your face in your pillow, letting out a groan. You knelt for Price last night. You opened yourself up to that vulnerability, and he had graciously guided and supported you through it. He didn’t scruff you, even though he could have, nor was there any demand for control in his grasp, he could have easily taken it. 

He’d been a good alpha, helping you relax and destress. You feel lighter for the first time in weeks, since you found out where you were going and who your new pack was going to be. You feel lighter than you have in your entire time on this base, though that could just be the endorphins still flowing a bit from kneeling for your alpha. 

It’ll be easier to come down from it once you’re bonded, you know that. Once there’s that connection between you, and you’re around him all the time. You’ll be moving into his room, or at least you’ll spend most of your time in there. You’ll sleep in his bed with him. You wonder if he’s a cuddler, or if he prefers personal space. Would Gaz join you sometimes? You can practically feel the warmth of being sandwiched between them, battle hardened hands trailing along your bare body because you’ll be naked and well bonded with both of them. 

You bury your burning face in your pillow letting out a muffled, quiet scream at the thoughts your mind is conjuring. You feel hot, warmth pooling in your stomach. There’s no going back to sleep now, you know that. 

You get up, rushing to the bathroom to splash cold water on your face and erase the thoughts in your head. It’s entirely natural, having these thoughts. You will get to that place, very soon, with Price. The others could pursue that sort of relationship with you as well, if they wanted to. It will likely happen naturally with Gaz, given his bond with Price, and after your kiss with Soap...

You’re not sure if it would happen with Ghost, or if he would allow it. You can’t help but think about yesterday, how easily he had overpowered you with just his scent. You had been scared, as it was your nature to be when an alpha was posing a direct threat to you, but the way he had looked hovering over you, the feeling of him pressed against you when he’d pinned you to the floor. How easily he got you into that position. A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of him pinning you down like that, or better, pinning you against Soap, his hand on the back of your neck. 

You splash cold water on your face, holding your breath until your lower body stops pulsing in time with your heart. You let out a quiet curse, focusing on getting ready for the day before grabbing your book and heading for the rec room to try and calm yourself. 

“You’re up early, love.” 

You jump at the voice, lowering your book as you look up from your spot stretched out on the couch. Gaz is standing there, skin dewy with sweat. They must have just returned from their morning workout, heading in to shower and get ready for the day. Gaz must have noticed your scent and followed it. 

“Couldn’t get back to sleep.” You explain as he moves closer to the couch. “Gaz!” You shriek as he crawls over you, dropping his body on top of yours. “You’re all sweaty!” 

“You can shower later.” He says, resting his face against your chest, his elbows pressed into the cushions so he’s not completely squishing you with his weight. 

“You should be showering now.” You say, trying not to breathe in too much of his scent. It’s heavily tainted with the scent of sweat and musk. 

“Then we can shower together.” He murmurs, nuzzling his face further into your chest. 

Your face warms, your heart rate picking up at his teasing. The thought of being enclosed in the shower with him, such a small space, packed in together. Skin to skin, bare before each other. You might implode beneath him, warmth beginning to travel down your spine after your thoughts earlier. 

“Relax.” He murmurs with a grin, obviously picking up the quickening of your heart rate and the change in your scent. “I’m teasing.” 

He’s just as bad as Soap, but not quite as blatant with it. While Soap would tease at any open opportunity, Gaz tended to choose his moments wisely, slipping some teasing remark in when you least expected it. 

Gaz goes quiet as he lays there, his breathing steady. You mark your page before reaching up to set the book on the arm of the couch. You can’t help yourself as you run your fingers through his short cropped, damp curls, gently scratching at his scalp. He makes a quiet noise, his body getting heavier. 

“Gaz?” You murmur, earning a grunt in response. “Are you falling asleep?” 

“Can’t help it.” He murmurs. “So comfy.” 

Your cheeks warm as he nuzzles into your chest, letting out a content sigh. You fight the urge to release one of your own, feeling warm and content even pressed against the lumpy cushions of the couch. How easy it is to find comfort even in the most uncomfortable places. 

It doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. 

Your heart rate kicks up again, hand stilling where it had been scratching Gaz’s scalp. You’re allowed to want. You asked yesterday and nothing bad happened. 

“Gaz?” You murmur, trying to fight the nervous twisting of your stomach. “Would you...if I wanted something, would you get it for me, even if it’s stupid?” 

Gaz shifts on top of you, knees pressing into the couch as he pushes himself higher so you’re face to face. One of his legs is between yours, holding him up so he doesn’t squish you under his weight. 

He stares down at you, blinking the haze of sleep from his dark eyes. “Babygirl, I’d take over the world for you if that’s what you wanted.” 

Your lips part in surprise at his answer. You’re not entirely sure he’s allowed to say something like that, even as a joke. The sentiment of it is not lost on you, and you find tears prickling the backs of your eyes. 

His arms shift beneath you, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what you want.” 

You stare up into those big, sweet, dark eyes. Gaz radiates a kindness and calmness like you haven’t felt in a long time. Not that the others aren’t kind, even in Ghost and his aggressiveness, you’ve felt the protective drive within him. It wasn’t based on any claim or sense of ownership, even a sense of duty couldn’t bring forward that kind of reaction. But Gaz...there’s just something so soft and gentle despite the danger he could pose. 

“Kiss me.” You blurt out, realizing you’ve been staring for far too long. 

Gaz stares down at you, a grin slowly spreading on his lips. “Just that? Here I thought you were gonna say something impossible like world domination.” 

“Well, if you’re offering...” You shrug. 

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Probably shouldn’t be making those jokes.” He leans down closer. “Though, if you asked nicely...” 

You let out a quiet sound as his lips press against yours. They’re just as soft as they look, pressing against yours so gently and softly. Your arms lift to his shoulders, curling into the fabric of his shirt. He coaxes your lips to move with his, copying his movements as he tilts his head slightly. 

Warmth blooms beneath your skin as he kisses you, your head spinning. His scent invades your nose, seeping into your very being. You want to curl up in it, let it surround you like a warm blanket. You catch the whiff of something deeper, the scent of damp earth. Price. You have a sudden urge to pull his shirt collar to the side, to stare at the mark that decorates his scent gland at the base of his throat, a mirror of the one you’ll carry in a few short weeks. 

“Ye didnae tell me ye were startin’ a cuddle pile!” 

An excited voice causes you both to separate, Gaz barely managing to lift himself up enough so that you don’t get squished when Soap practically jumps on his back. 

“Bloody hell, mate,” Gaz grunts. “Tryna squish our poor omega?” 

The weight above you shifts before Soap’s head appears over Gaz’s shoulder, a wide grin on his face. “Mornin’ hen!” 

“For someone so small, you weigh a ton.” Gaz says with a strain to his voice as sweat breaks out across his forehead from keeping his weight and Soap's off of you.

“I'm no that small.” Soap says, an offended tone to his voice as he goes limp on top of Gaz. 

You can't help but giggle at their antics, especially as Gaz pushes himself up to a kneeling position, nearly sending Soap rolling to the floor. Your face is warm from your giggling as they both stand, playfully pushing each other. 

“Alright, enough you two.” Price's voice cuts through their playful arguing, amusement shining in his eyes as he leans on the doorframe. “Almost time for breakfast.”

“Come on.” Gaz says, taking your hands and helping you up. “Let's get some pancakes in you before you turn into one.”

“You should try courting her.” Kyle says, scrolling through his phone as he lounges on John's bed. “Like old-fashioned courting.”

“What are you on about?” John grumbles, drying his face with a towel. 

“Our little omega. You should try courting her.” Kyle repeats, looking over his phone at John. 

John tosses his towel into his hamper before approaching the bed. Kyle lets his eyes rake over his form, his strong arms and soft stomach, thick, strong thighs and the prominent bulge at the front of his briefs. 

“It would be worth a try.” Kyle continues, letting John pull the phone from his hands. “Omegas love that shit.” 

“And what prompted this thought?” John asks, laying down on his side next to Kyle, pulling the younger man closer. 

“She's getting all worked up by us now.” He says, biting back a groan as John trails a hand over his side. “She's kissed Soap and I so far. Got all worked up when I teased her about showering together this morning.” His hand trails through John's short hair as John licks at his throat. “I think she'd enjoy a little attention from her alpha.”

“What do you have in mind?” John murmurs before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of Kyle's throat. 

Kyle shrugs, letting out a gasp as John bites at his throat. “Take her out for dinner? Buy her some things for her room? Give in to those alpha cravings a bit.”

John lets out a low growl, pinning Kyle on the bed beneath him. Kyle's lips lift in a smirk, fingers lifting to run through John's beard. His thumb drags across John's lower lip, gaze soft as he stares up at the alpha. 

“You won't ruin anything by doing it. There's only so much time until her heat. If I were an alpha, I'd want her to be as comfortable as possible before then. Makes the shift into bonded pack life much easier.” Kyle says. 

John leans down until their noses brush, groaning softly as Kyle digs his fingers into his shoulders. He knows Kyle is right. He should make an effort with you, at least try to ensure you're as comfortable around him as possible before he claims you. Most alphas wouldn't have waited for the first heat, wouldn't have even waited a week before claiming, before taking their omega to bed. He doesn't want to be like those alphas. He doesn't want to force you into more than you already have been, more than you will be. 

He wants things to happen as naturally as possible, but that doesn't mean he can't try. 

Kyle leans up, closing the distance between them and kissing him. He presses his beta back into the mattress, nipping harshly at his lips. Their tongues tangle together, tasting like peppermint toothpaste and something distinctly alpha and beta. 

John presses his body closer to Kyle's groaning as his half hard cock drags against Kyle's. Kyle moans into his mouth as John begins grinding against him. Their bodies move together, a familiar dance they've both memorized the steps to. 

John groans as Kyle's fingers trail down his back, blunt nails biting into the skin. Breathy moans slip from kiss-bruised plump lips as John kisses down Kyle's throat. Calloused fingers slip under the waistband of John's briefs, teasing the soft supple skin beneath. John grinds down against him harder, dragging his leaking cock against Kyle's twitching one. 

“Fuck, Cap.” Kyle groans, bucking up against his alpha. “Lemme feel you.”

John wraps his arms around Kyle, flipping them over so he's on top. Kyle makes quick work of his boxers, tugging John's briefs down roughly. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of his alpha's leaking cock. 

“Like what you see, pup?” John asks, lips lifting in a smirk. 

“Fuck yes.” Kyle breathes, settling himself on John's thighs. 

He leans down, wrapping a hand around both his and John's cocks. John groans as Kyle begins stroking them both, his cock twitching as more precum slips from his tip. He's close, the pent up frustrations from the last couple days along with the tantalizing scent of omega driving him to near insanity. 

He feels like he might pop a knot as Kyle picks up the pace, one hand braced against his chest, his hips rocking in short thrusts. His head falls back as his orgasm slams into him, hit cum spurting across his stomach. Kyle groans loudly, frantically pumping his own cock as he reaches his peak, spurting his spend across his alpha's stomach too. 

“Made quite the mess, Sergeant.” John says, trailing his fingers through the mix of cum on his stomach. 

“Would you like me to clean it up, sir?” Kyle smirks, opening his mouth to allow John's fingers to push in. 

His tongue swirls around his thick fingers, lapping them clean. Kyle shifts on top of him, bending down and trailing his tongue across John's stomach, licking up their mess. 

“Good boy.” John hums, gently cradling the back of Kyle's neck. 

The sky is dark as you make your way from your room. Gaz and Price are nowhere to be found, your cheeks warming at the thought of where they could be and what they could be up to. You take a breath to steady yourself, and your scent, before you head into the rec room. Soap and Ghost are there, Soap on the opposite end of the couch as usual, and Ghost in the chair next to the couch that faces the door. 

He sees you first, his shoulders squaring just a bit. Soap turns to the doorway, a typical grin splitting his face when he sees you. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone be happy to see you, and you can’t deny that Soap’s joy is a bit contagious. He’s like an excited puppy. You can imagine if he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop. 

“Come tae join us, hen?” He asks, holding out a hand. 

Ghost’s eyes are sharp as they stare at you, the silent warning not lost. You’re infringing on their space, infringing on his protective circle around his beta. You’re pushing a boundary and that could be dangerous. 

It could be. 

You move forward, taking Soap’s hand, letting him tug you down next to him on the couch. You ignore the eyes burning into you, boring holes into your skin as you settle in as close to Soap as you can. You almost smile in victory as Soap drapes his arm across the back of the couch, your attention turning to whatever is playing on the TV. 

Ghost and Soap continue their conversation, Soap's fingers brushing your arm every so often. You can feel every time Ghost's burning gaze turns to you, every time he glowers at you for being so close to his beta. You can't help but wonder what's going through his mind, what he's thinking, what he's imagining. 

You'll pay for this later. 

You can only imagine how he'll punish you in your training for boldly breaching such an obvious boundary. 

Soap doesn't seem to notice, or perhaps he simply doesn't care. It's not like you're not allowed to be close to Soap. As a member of your new pack, he had every right to pursue a bond with you if he wanted, regardless of how Ghost felt. Even though they're bonded, Soap is still his own person. 

It's almost ironic. 

You're starting to feel the exhaustion of your early morning as the night drags on, your head getting heavier and heavier. Ghost's need to glower at you has lessened a bit, his eyes only on you whenever you shift or move. Your head has drooped onto Soap's shoulder, an idea forming in your mind. You're sure it's the exhaustion making you so bold, or perhaps your new belief that the only way you'll even stand a chance at getting through to Ghost is to push those boundaries and stand up to him.

You lift your head, shifting your body until you're laying on the couch, resting your head on Soap's thigh. You watch Ghost's hands curl into fists where they rest on his lap, his eyes burning through your head as you make yourself comfortable. Soap's hand sinks into your hair, massaging your scalp as you lay there, your lips curling into a content smile. 

You know it has to be eating at him just a little. A content beta and a preening omega, an image of what he could have if he simply got over whatever is keeping him from accepting you. 

“Tired, lass?” Soap's gentle voice pulls you from your thoughts. Your mind had started to doze a bit, trailing off with your thoughts. 

You make a quiet noise in agreement, nuzzling against his thigh. 

“Let's get ye tae bed.” He says, squeezing your arm. 

You're not expecting Ghost to follow as Soap leads you from the rec room, your fingers entwined with his. Even in your tired state you can feel the icy stare at your back, the looming presence of the alpha behind you as Soap walks you to your door. 

“Night, hen.” Soap murmurs softly. 

You're sure it's the exhaustion making you delirious as you stand on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a soft kiss. Soap hums against your lips, bending down to follow you as you go to pull away. You ignore the tickling at the back of your neck as he presses another kiss to your lips, your hand reaching for your doorknob and the security of your room. 

“Night, Soap.” You murmur, slipping into your room before Ghost makes a rash decision. 

You're going to regret it later, but you certainly don't at this moment. 

The fabric isn’t as soft as it used to be. It’s been worn too much, washed too many times. You’ve stitched the ripped seam back together, a bit sloppy but you can hardly tell thanks to the luck of finding thread the same color as the sweatshirt. You hold it in your hands, staring at the frayed edges, the loose strings. Well loved, some might call it. Garbage, others might think. 

“Finally fixing the holes?” 

The voice cutting through the silence makes you jump, your head whipping around to the door. Price is standing there, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He says. 

“It’s alright, sir.” You say, calming your racing heart. You hadn’t even heard him approach. “I thought you were all at training.” 

“I had a call I had to take.” He says, entering the room now that you’ve calmed. “Was heading back out when I caught a whiff of your scent.” He lowers himself onto the couch with a quiet groan, staring softly at you. 

“I know it’s stupid, holding onto it when I could just ask for a new one.” You say, staring down at the sweatshirt in your hands. 

“But it’s more than just a sweatshirt.” He says, tone soft and understanding. 

You sink your teeth into your lip, fingers curling into the fabric in your hands. “One of the omegas at the institute gave it to me.” You say, holding the sweatshirt to your chest. “We were the same age so we were grouped together a lot and we got really close. She gave it to me when we reached selection age, since we both knew we were likely to get chosen fast and she wanted to give me something to remember her by. It’s a good thing she did too, because she did get chosen almost immediately.” You let out a quiet laugh, blinking back tears. “I’ve held on to it ever since. It doesn't even smell like her anymore. Hasn’t for a long time.” 

Price is quiet for a few moments, his eyes on your face. You can’t look at him, your gaze on the sweatshirt in your lap. “You loved her.” He finally says, his tone not accusing or even disgusted. 

It’s understanding. Knowing.

You take a shaky breath, hands closing into nervous fists around the sweatshirt. “Institutes try everything they can to prevent omegas from bonding with each other. Makes it too hard to separate us once we come of age. Alphas don’t want a distressed, unhappy omega, they’re expecting an eager, willing addition to their pack. It’s hard though, when you spend literal years together experiencing the same thing to not form bonds with each other.”

 Price huffs quietly. “My grandfather used to tell me about the traditional pack boom after World War 2. When militaries across the world began to forbid bonding and pack formation within ranks. They were spending more time and money on preventing it from happening than anything else. It didn’t take them long to realize it was easier to allow the organic bonds to form. It made soldiers stronger, gave them purpose. It’s easier to look away than to fight what nature intends sometimes.” He smiles at you, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. “We are the last people that will judge you for it.”

You know that. You've known that from the start. The way their scents mingle, their bonds. They're a bonded pack for a reason. 

“She never knew. Or, I never told her. I don't know where she ended up or where she is now.” You shrug, letting out a sardonic huff. “It's a lonely existence sometimes, being an omega.”

“I can only imagine.” Price says, giving you a sad smile. 

“I suppose I should just get rid of it.” You say, staring at the sweatshirt. “No use holding onto something that could have never been.” 

Price squeezes your shoulder gently. “Wait here.” 

He gets up, leaving you alone in the rec room. You wait patiently for him to return, growing a bit nervous. What was he doing? Was he telling someone about your confession? Was he going to send you back because of it? You know your worries are unwarranted, but you can't stop them. 

He returns a few moments later, a sweatshirt in his hands. “Here.” He says, holding it out to you. “They're standard issue, but I've never been one for sweatshirts. It's just been sitting in my closet.”

You take the sweatshirt, soft and new in your hands. It hardly smells like him, only the light residual scent from being in his room. “Thank you, sir.” You say, rubbing the fabric against your cheek. 

He nods at your old sweatshirt. “This way you can save that one, and start picking this one apart.” 

Your face warms at his cheeky comment, your head turning down bashfully. “It means a lot, sir. Really.” 

“You'll get better use of it than I did.” He glances at his watch. “I best be getting back to the boys. We'll be back before dinner.”

“Wait-” You get up before he can leave, slowly approaching him with the sweatshirt in hand. Your face is burning as he stares down at you, eyebrows raised in waiting. “Will you...scent it?” You hold the sweatshirt out to him.

He looks surprised for a moment before he takes the fabric, rubbing his face and neck against it. He coats the sweatshirt in his scent, the smell of trees and petrichor filling your nose as you watch him. The back of your neck begins to prickle, the desire to roll in his scent getting stronger. 

“Thank you, sir.” You say as he hands the sweatshirt back to you. “I'd...I'd also like to kneel again tonight, if that's alright.”

He smiles softly down at you. “Of course. I'll come and get you when I'm ready.” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your head before he takes his leave. 

You pull on Price's sweatshirt, burying your nose in his scent for a moment. A smile pulls at your lips as you grab your old sweatshirt, making for your room.

You can't wait for tonight. 

NEXT ->

Taglist:

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[wileys-russo]

regular visitor II m.león

regular visitor II m.león

you exhaled shakily as you flashed your ID badge and peeled into the training complex, almost running over several pigeons pecking at the ground on your designated parking spot as your engine cut off and your head thumped against the steering wheel.

heart rate refusing to slow down from the various road rules you broke this morning you hustled to grab your things out of the car and hurry inside, well aware that due to some awful morning traffic you were running almost over an hour and a half late now.

yes it was definitely the traffics fault and not the fact you'd accidentally set your alarm for 6pm and not 6am, and considering you'd like to think of yourself as quite the punctual and professional person being on time was late for you, so this situation was something new and you loathed it beyond belief.

it wasn't a game day thankfully but you knew this would set you back dreadfully as you had appointments lined up all morning back to back, jona wanting almost all of the girls to have a quick check up and check in since most of them had only just returned from international break.

with a groan you shifted uncomfortably trying not to drop anything with your arms more than full, attempting to kick your car door shut behind you as your one free finger probed at your hips where your keys hung trying to find the lock button.

"oh hijo de puta!" you cursed as you struggled to hold everything, finally kicking your door shut but dropping your coffee and jumping back as it narrowly missed soiling your brand new white sneakers.

"un lenguaje tan grosero." you jolted in shock and almost fell over at the unexpected voice, a tattooed hand hurrying over to grab your bag right before it hit the ground as the other pressed against the small of your back to stop you toppling over.

"mapi." you exhaled with relief at the familiar face, the girl making sure you were steady on your feet before handing you back your bag, ignoring your protests as she took a few of the medical books stacked in your arms into her own.

"está bien, déjame ayudarte. quiero hacerlo!" the defender dismissed your concerns with a flick of her hand, sending you a dazzlingly white toothed smile as you took a moment to collect yourself.

"you are a little late today, no?" the girl questioned, the two of you falling into step as you smiled at her accented english.

despite the fact you did speak and understand most spanish you appreciated that a lot of the girls who spoke english did their best to do so around you, knowing you did get homesick every now and then having been born and raised in england up until around a year ago when you'd made the move to spain from manchester.

"i could say the same for you león." you quipped back making the defender send you a grin and knock her shoulder into yours. "i was allowed to sleep in. no fitness testing when you have been here training all summer." mapi smiled but you recognised it didn't quite meet her eyes as your features softened, not knowing the whole story but enough to know there were reasons she no longer played for spain.

"did you go to the library first chica?" the zaragozan teased quickly changing subject, jostling the heavy textbooks in her arms and reveling in the laughter it pulled from you as the pair of you made your way inside making small talk.

"gracias por su ayuda!" you exhaled gratefully, shifting your bag on your shoulder and holding out your arms for the books which mapi carefully placed down into them as you reached where you'd be parting ways.

"anytime." if mapi had planned to say more she didn't get the chance as you shot her another grateful smile and hurried away, the girl exhaling with an annoyed grumble at herself and wandering off toward the locker rooms.

"bon dia!" you sang out with a rushed smile, swiping your card at reception and practically sprinting toward the physio's wing, arriving to your office with a sigh of relief seeing there wasn't a line of disgruntled players yet.

"jona called a captains meeting to get everyone on the same page so everything's been pushed back, i took care of the younger girls who had the first appointments and rearranged the rest to come in after breakfast, you're fine amiga. breathe!" carmen the other physio on today assured as you collapsed at your desk with a groan, a thump sounding as you dropped everything and your limbs burned from the effort.

"thank you!" you gestured up to the sky making the woman laugh and sit down across from you, running you through the schedule for the day as you hurried to tidy everything up, grabbing out your diary and scribbling down the changes.

"so andrés and peter are in for the afternoon too?" you clarified, the tests for the girls hoping to be returning from injury this weekend having been moved to after lunch as carmen nodded and you were relieved to hear you'd be sharing the load.

"sí. makes it smoother to go through everyone on the list without having to rush anything or hold anyone back later than needed." the woman explained as you nodded in agreement.

a knock at the door gained your attention as you looked up to see a familiar face hovering in the doorway. "bon dia mapi!" carmen greeted her, taking her copy of the schedule and promising she'd be back soon for your upcoming meeting with a few of the other staff, and with a coffee in hand for you as you blew her a kiss with a grateful sigh.

"long time no see león." you teased as the defender gave you a grin. "i had to make sure nobody moved my chair." mapi huffed nodding to the padded massage chair she'd gotten all too familiar with during her rehab the last few months which you'd headed.

"moved it since you were sat in it...yesterday? you know maybe i should just get you your own personal bench at this point, with your initials and everything." you continued with a wink as mapi perked up and your gaze dropped back to your diary in front of you.

"are you here for help or for a chat maps?" you asked, half serious and half joking as you did have a busy day ahead, the defender rolling her eyes playfully.

"it is a professional visit, but we will chat anyway." mapi nodded confidently which you couldn't deny, but the footballer also had no leg to stand on as she did often find herself hanging about in your office in little bubbles of free time with no real reason bar wanting to talk to you.

though if you knew the real reasons why she seemed to hover, and if you'd caught on at all to the way she often shamelessly flirted with you, you'd made no move to show her so.

"tape time?" you laughed knowingly, a flurry of nods greeting you as you gestured for her to take a seat.

"so how was being back home?" mapi questioned with a smile, grabbing out what you needed as she hauled herself up onto the bench.

"like, overnight? it was fine!" you chuckled with a shake of your head. "no! during the break. you were gone for a week." mapi blushed slightly and hoped you hadn't heard the shake in her voice as you hunted around for another roll of tape.

she'd wanted to speak to you about it yesterday but all of this week you'd been busy preparing for everyone returning and the impending season, not having had much time to sit and talk with her like you normally would.

"oh that, it was nice." you smiled politely, not giving much away. "so whats troubling you today then?" you asked moving to stand over her as a panicked look crossed her face.

"qué? what do you mean?" mapi frowned in confusion, shuffling back a little to give you more room. "with the tape. what do you need taped mapi? your knee?" you chuckled, the girl exhaling with a noise of understanding.

"oh! sí. the knee, i went for a run last night and it has been a little...tight since." mapi shrugged as you nodded in understanding, the defender cleared for mostly everything now since her initial recovery and rehab.

"mm yeah there is a little tension. have you done much in the way of hard cardio outside of training since we cleared you?" you asked, massaging her knee and thigh expertly in your hands as mapi opened and closed her mouth, distracted temporarily by the way you were touching and squeezing her.

the girl loathed how around you her tongue and her words seemed to fail her, confidence not something she had ever ever struggled with but for some reason all it took was a bright eyed smile and a laugh from you and her mind would go blank.

"mapi?" you asked with a concerned frown when she didn't answer, the defender shaking her head for a moment. "oh! sí a little. i have been trying to fix my sleep schedule but when i cannot sleep, i try to go for a run." the girl admitted with a small smile and you pretended not to already know she was in therapy given it was part of her rehab program anyway, but you knew better than to every question any of the girls on things outside your realm of qualifications.

"that makes the nap you took yesterday make more sense." you teased with a grin as she scoffed. "i did not sleep! i was uh...how do you say? resting my eyes." mapi defended herself with a scowl making you laugh.

"oh? i did not know people snored when they rest their eyes." you smiled, the knot in her knee a little less prominent mapi tried to pretend she didn't miss the feelings of your hands on her as you backed off to measure out the tape.

"i do not snore!" mapi huffed, crossing her arms. "sure." you drawled sarcastically with a smile, gesturing for her to stretch out her leg as you wrapped the tape around expertly.

"vamos! off you go. if you are late for strength training carlos will have my head on a platter." you chuckled as she hopped down and you sat back at your desk. "head on a platter?" the girl gave you a face of confusion as you smiled.

"i would get the blame." you explained, shooing your hands at her and nodding at the door as you opened your laptop, fingers clicking away against the keys and mapi paused in the doorway for a moment.

"oye. would you want to-" you looked up with a quirked eyebrow and the eye contact seemed to suck the question from her as the spaniard shook her head, mumbling something and hurrying out of the room.

you'd just finished your check ups with a few more of the girls later in the day when you the familiar face poped back in only a few hours after you'd already seen her.

"again! what can i do for you this time maría?" you chucked, turning around and missing the way pina shot her a knowing look on her way out, shoving the girl and muttering something in her ear as she left the room.

"my calves are locked up." mapi pulled herself to sit up on the bench again as you hummed, grabbing out a bottle of massage oil and gesturing for her to lay down.

"did you overload the leg press again?" you sighed as she gave you a guilty smile and you shook your head. "mapi you know that if-" you started to lecture as she groaned.

"sí, lo sé! i have to be careful even if i am cleared. there are still risks." mapi parroted the words she'd heard from you time and time again. "then use these to listen!" you warned, tugging playfully at her ear as she chuckled.

the girl breathed a sigh of relief as you began to massage out the knots and tension in her lower legs, and though that wasn't the reason she'd really come here, it was a bonus.

"so how was your time back home?" mapi questioned again, propping herself up on one arm to look at you over her shoulder. "you already asked me that, it was nice!" you reminded with a laugh, the midfielders face flushing bright red in embarrassment.

"gah! more than nice. what did you do?" mapi asked, persistent to get a little more out of you which amused you. "saw family, spent time with my friends, caught up on all my paperwork because my patients don't listen to instructions about not overdoing it!" you answered with a wink, mapi's head thumping back down onto the bench as she looked to the floor.

"i do not always overdo it." you heard her grumble and merely smiled, the defender seemingly giving up on her questions as a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you.

"vale! all done." you squeezed her ankle and moved to wash your hands. "esperet! my uh, my shoulder is a little tight. we were doing...throw ins!" mapi quickly sat up as you narrowed your eyes.

"mm well we can't have that." you gestured for her to turn around as you gave her shoulder a squeeze. "higher or lower?" you asked, the spaniard guiding you to where her 'pain' was.

"okay, shirt off." you instructed as mapi quickly stripped off her training top leaving her in only a sports bra, and you ever so briefly caught the pink tint which coated her cheeks before her head faced the wall.

"so...what are you doing after work today?" mapi asked, wincing at the awkwardness in her tone, again never finding herself so tongue tied around anyone else.

"going home." you chuckled with a smile, working through the basically non existent knot in her shoulder but choosing not to say anything. "oh! cool." mapi nodded, pulling a face which she was grateful you couldn't see.

"you know, if you have something to ask me mapi, you can just ask." you encouraged, unsure if you were misreading the situation but having a feeling she was dancing around her true intentions and had been for awhile now.

"because you know if you wanted to ask me out you can just do it. instead of making up all of these injuries and excuses to come and hang out with me in here during work hours." you spoke casually but the words caused mapi to choke on air as she spun around and pulled her shirt back on.

you watched with amusement as the footballer opened and closed her mouth clearly in shock, causing a grin to curl into your features not used to seeing her so flustered.

"you're cute mapi, but we gotta work on your confidence!" you patted her leg with a smile, stepping back a little. "i have confidence, lots of it!" she blurted out with a frown as you hummed, waiting a moment for her to say anything else and chuckling when nothing followed.

"i'm free tonight, if you were wondering." you sat down at your desk and pulled out alexia's file, seeing her for a one on one next. "oh. oh!" things clicked for mapi as you raised an eyebrow, encouraging her to add some more on with a subtle wave of your hands.

"dinner. would you like to go and eat dinner, with me. a date! will you go on a date with me por favor?" mapi finally managed out, the pink flush creeping up her neck causing her to tug uncomfortably at the collar of her training top.

"sí, i'd love to." you answered softly, watching as her face lit up like that of a kid on christmas morning.

"vale. bien! genial!" mapi nodded happily, making a beeline for the door as you cleared your throat and she came to a halt. "would you like my number so we can make a plan for dinner?" you asked, her face perking up even further as she nodded.

you held your hand out for her phone, saving your number in it and handing it back to her. "you better text me león." you warned playfully as she backed out of the room. "i will! promesa." you melted at the dopey grin on her face as she left, hearing her footsteps thud away.

"estás muy guapa hoy!" your head lifted up as hers popped back in, sending you a charming grin before disappearing again, racing off away to the gym as you let out a laugh and focused back on your laptop in front of you, smile unable to be wiped from your lips the rest of the day.

[sleepiexx]

Something He’d Overheard

James Potter x fem!Reader

Note: I’ve been in the marauders fandom for over 7 years now, I think it’s high time I write a fic for it. Part of my efforts to branch out into writing for more fandoms than COD.

Summary: James finds himself head over heels when he sees you defending a first year student.

Warnings: some curse words here and there, bullying mention, overall rlly soft

Word Count: 1151

After countless fictional characters and random strangers on the street with pretty faces catching his burning ire, anyone who knew James Potter knew good and well that he was a lover. He had long believed in love at first sight, merely seeing someone eye-catching often sparked thoughts of budding romance, fantasies of how they would love and what their relationship would look like amongst other things. Soulmates and fate were a big concept to him too, for example his favorite book character, a headstrong witch who was kind and brilliant, well James had a hunch that in another life they were lovers.

He’d fallen in love just about a million times, and yet something about you was different.

You had caught James’ eye one day as he made the trek to the library to collect his good friend Remus for their group’s usual night’s worth of mischief. Your beautiful eyebrows were pinched together in anger, a sneer on your pretty lips, your voice was loud and firm as you scolded one of the usual culprits (a death eater in the making) for bullying a defenseless first year student.

Your hand clutched your wand intently as you damn near hissed the words, “you wanna try picking on someone who can actually fight back?”

They let out a scoff and left the scene, leaving you, the first year, and unbeknownst to you, James.

The switch between standoffishness and caring came like whiplash. Your tensed frame relaxed as you knelt down in front of the first year (those eleven year olds seemed to be growing shorter and shorter every year). Your dominant hand reached out and gently wiped away the younger child’s tears.

“Everything he said is bullshit,” you began, “he’s angry at the world, looking for someplace to fit in, and unfortunately it’s really easy to fall into the wrong crowd. You haven’t, and he’s jealous of that.”

The kid sniffled, pout still indented firmly on their little lips, “who would be jealous of me?”

You shook your head in disbelief, “plenty of people! You have a gift that a large part of the world’s population doesn’t possess, that’s something to be proud of no matter what other witches and wizards try to tell you. Heck, I’m even jealous of you.”

As you spoke a smile crept its way on the first year’s face, “you are?” They asked.

“Yeah, I am!” You nodded, “you’ve got six and a half more years left at Hogwarts to have fun and run about the castle, I only have another year and a half.”

“This place is pretty cool,” they muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your face lit up and you stood to your feet, offering the small child your hand so you could walk them back to their common room. You’d never seen the awe-stricken onlooker, but the scene was now burned into James’ mind.

It followed him to the library, where he convinced Remus to follow him to their other friends, a long walk that Remus spent listening to James drone on and on about you. It followed him to his dorm that night, and every other night for weeks leaving the marauders to know every single detail about you. And it most especially followed him to each of the classes you had together where James would stare at you and admire your appearance while daydreaming about you.

It was the third time that week that the scene had followed him to the lunch table when Sirius slammed his palms on the table, “I’m putting an end to this nonsense right now. You either talk to her, Prongs, or I will. And trust me, you won’t like how in depth I will go about those daydreams you’ve been having where-“

Sirius couldn’t even finish his sentence with how fast James jumped in, “alright, alright! I have potions with her next, I’ll talk to her, I swear.”

The statement leaves the marauders satiated in conversation as they finish up their lunch and head to their classes.

In potions, James nearly decides to abandon ship, facing a new anxiety he’d never experienced before when dealing with a girl. He decides that maybe it would be best to keep to himself, too afraid to stumble on his words and make a fool of himself in front of such a pretty girl. All this is until Professor Slughorn proclaims that today’s assignment requires a partner. If there ever was a time to shoot his shot, it’s now.

He takes deep breaths, adjusting his posture and forcing his every step to radiate confidence before he reaches you, “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to be my partner?”

You smile, “I’d love to! Fair warning, though, I’m not the best at potions.”

James bursts out into a giddy grin, “I’m willing to pick up the slack.”

“Unfortunately, I bet I’ll make you eat your words,” nonetheless you collect the ingredients as James collects the supplies.

When everything is together, James reads off the instructions. You follow them with great care, not wanting to make a fool of yourself in front of your new, devilishly handsome potions partner.

You make to slice open one of the ingredients, as the instructions called for, but your knife slips, sending the damned thing hurdling straight towards your face. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that never comes, reopening them only to be met with the sight of the back of James’ hand.

“Holy shit,” you curse, “did you just catch that?”

James nods, almost surprised at himself.

You shake your head in disbelief, “if you weren’t such a good chaser, I’d suggest you take up seeking.”

Your statement renews James’ confidence, so you’d noticed him too?

“Can I show you how to cut it?” He asks, a smile on his face.

You nod, watching his hands intently, confused when he disappears behind you. You quickly piece together what’s happening when he grabs your hands with his own, handing you the knife and positioning you so that you slice through the ingredient like it’s nothing.

“Great job!” James praises, even though it was him that had done all the work.

You still take the compliment, grinning from ear to ear as he tosses the final ingredient into the potion, creating the rich purple color you were striving for, “we make a really good team, Potter.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, “well what do you say we see if we make as good of a couple?” You feel blood rush to your cheeks, James further clarifies “Hogsmeade this weekend? Just you and me?”

And you nod eagerly, “I would love that.”

If Sirius thought James asking you out would be the solution to him raving on and on about you all hours of the day, he was sorely mistaken and he was about to figure that out as soon as James stepped into the common room.

[entitled-fangirl]

Luck. (P2)

Cregan Stark x reader; Robb Stark x reader

Summary: the reader finds herself back with Cregan, and she's beginning to feel something for the past Wolf of the North.

Warnings: unwanted advances, talk of gore, consensual kissing that leads to the start of... some other stuff

Part 1, Part 3

Masterlist

...................................................

Two weeks back with Robb, and it seemed that she was beginning to forget about the interactions with Cregan entirely.

She had hit her head, after all. Maybe her mind had simply messed with her. 

Robb had noted that something was amiss with her, but he knew better than to pry. When she was ready, perhaps she'd come to him.

"The History of the Wolf. That's an ancient book, that is." Robb mused with a grin as he entered the library.

She turned her head and snapped the book shut in surprise. "Oh… I… I had no idea."

Robb's smile grows and he walks to her, "Interested in Stark history, are you?"

Her face showed a look as if she'd been caught in a crime. "I… I just wish to know more about you and your house is all." 

"That's admirable," Robb said. He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, his stubble scraping her as he did so.

"You must shave," she said instinctively with a laugh. "It is like rubbing sand across my face, Robb."

He chuckled. It was the first time in two weeks that she had jested with him like she had before that day in the Godswood. He loved her most like this. 

He brought at hand to his face, "Shave? Or perhaps I shall grow it into a great beard!"

She laughed and took his face in her hand, "Only when I am long gone will you have a beard, Stark."

He tilted his head playfully and a tint came to his eyes, "Or perhaps I will just make you watch the hairs grow by the day."

Her hands moved to his chest with a playful shove, "Don't torture me so!"

His smirk grew, "I will torture you how I see fit, my love."

"You shan't catch me then!"

Abandoning the book in her hands, she began to sprint from the library. 

Robb watched her go with a playful grin before willing his legs to run as well.

She held her skirt up in one hand, rounding each corridor half—hazardly. 

Robb had longer legs, but he had to admit she was a quick little thing.

She made the mistake of turning around once to see where he was, only to find him a few paces behind. 

She let out a surprised laugh, and quickly set herself on track again. 

Even as they ran passed the staff, the servants paid no heed.

The Lord and Lady of Winterfell were much in love, and seeing such things were common. 

Finally down one corridor, she looked over her shoulder. 

She had managed just a bit of distance from Robb.

She grinned wickedly as she rounded the corner from him.

Into a stone wall it seemed.

She fell onto the ground from the force.

"Gods, my love," a voice commented.

Cregan Stark.

He knelt down and quickly brought a hand to the back of her head. He was holding back a chuckle, "That was quite a hit. Are you alright?"

She nodded quickly, "Fine." Her hand came up to her forehead, "Just fine."

"Let's get you up then," he chuckled. "I can't have the staff whispering of why the Lord and Lady were on the dirt ridden floor of the corridor." 

He helped her up, keeping a hand under one arm to guarantee her balance. When she was indeed balanced, he let go, "Running from Brandon, I assume? A game of some sorts?"

She took a few steps back to look down the corridor she had just run down.

Robb was gone. 

"Yes," she lied. "I'm to be hiding."

"Well," he smiled. "I can't have him catching you, can I?" He held out his arm for her to take.

With one last look to the place Robb had once stood, she took Cregan's arm.

…

After an hour or two of enjoying the other's company over a light lunch, Cregan gave a light sigh and stood from the chair. "I must attend to the people. I shall come collect you-"

She reached out and grabbed his hand, "May I accompany you?"

"You wish to… accompany me out?" He was a bit shocked from her request.

"Please, my lord. I truly wish to."

That seemed to make something wash over Cregan. He blinked suddenly and nodded, "Get in something warmer. There's quite a heavy chill out there."

…

The two had journeyed out of the Winterfell walls. 

Cregan had promised to help a farmer days before, and was now making true to his promise. 

A Stark never breaks an oath, after all.

So the two on his horse, as well as some ten men behind them set out to the man's farm. 

The man was welcoming and kind, beyond grateful for the help. He was an older man and held a deep regard for the younger Stark man.

As they entered his home, Cregan grimaced, "What exactly do you believe the problem to be?"

The man shrugged, "I wanted to believe wildlings, my lord. But… wildlings do not kill as viciously as these deaths have been. No man is willing to work for me because of it."

Cregan's eyes wandered over to her, who had distracted herself with the man's dog- a long haired shepherd dog who had no idea that one of the most influential woman in the North was the one scratching behind his ears.

"You said the East side of your land?" Cregan asked.

"Yes, my lord."

"Very well." Cregan turned to his men. "Go saddle up. Have your swords at the ready." He turned to the older man, "You'll lead us there."

The man nodded, "On my honor, my lord."

She stood now, her attention lost from the dog to Cregan.

"No," he began as soon as they made eye contact. "You'll stay here. I'll not have you out in that."

"Cregan," she sighed. "I'll be with you. That's as safe as-"

"-My lady," the older man began. "If I may. I found one of my men without a throat in that field. We shan't have that for our lady."

Cregan nodded along with him, "You're to stay, my love."

She nodded, "That's fine."

"If it helps, my older son should come around soon. He'll keep you company," the older man said. 

She nodded again with a forced smile, "That sounds lovely. I shall remain."

Cregan gave a soft sigh, "Just for a few hours." He pulled her to him and placed a kiss to the crown of her head. 

…

The man's son did come after an hour or two, walking into his home sweaty and tired.

It took him a while to notice the lady's presence. 

He immediately began to apologize, "Lady Stark. Forgive me… I did not-"

She laughed lightly, "-There is nothing to forgive. I am the stranger in your home, not the other way around."

He nodded. He then took a moment to see her in front of him. "Believe me or not, I've never seen the lady of Winterfell before. And now that I have, I've not seen a pretty lady in all of the North."

His words took her by surprise. "Oh. Those are quite flattering words."

He smiled and shrugged, "I would not lie to a lady. You're lovely. Lord Stark has been blessed by the gods to have you."

"How did you know it was I if you've never seen me?" She asked with a teasing smile.

"Your cloak, my lady." He pointed to it, "Stark sigil on it."

She looked down to indeed to the pin on it with the wolf of Stark on it. "Ah. I see."

"Tell me, my lady, why you are in our home unaccompanied?"

"My husband and his men are with your father dealing with your… problem. In the east field, I believe?"

The man's eyes lit with recognition, "Is he? I had no idea he'd be here today or I would have welcomed him. And accompanied him as well. I do apologize."

She shrugged, "Cregan does not care for propriety. Do not worry yourself."

"Perhaps I may just… keep you company here then until their return?"

She smiled, "I'd like that."

…

The man, who she had learned was named Johnathan Glover, was lovely at first. Easy to converse with, and not overbearing towards her. 

But it quickly shifted. 

He had slowly moved his chair closer to her. His hands would wander. His eyes grew sultry. 

And soon, she was becoming uncomfortable. 

"Something wrong, my lady?" He asked. 

"No. Worried for Cregan, is all."

"You seem so tense." He sighed. Johnathan stood up and rounded her chair to stand behind her. His hand moved to her shoulders and she immediately tensed more. 

"You need to relax," he whispered in her ear. He began to massage her shoulder, pushing a little too harshly into her shoulder blades. 

"He… he will return at any moment," she had tried to reason. 

The man smiled, "I know."

A kiss was placed on her neck. 

She froze in place for a moment. 

This man would die at Cregan's hand. 

Robb was a merciful man, but the man's payment would have been just the same under his watch.

"Stop," she commanded.

"This is what I'm speaking of," the man continued with another kiss to her neck, "So tense."

She moved to stand, but he held her down by her shoulders.

The door swung open suddenly and Cregan stood in the doorway. 

Bloody and caked in dirt, Cregan Stark stood with a set jaw at the sight before him. 

She stood this time, managing to get away from the man's hands and goes to Cregan, "Are you hurt?"

But his eyes didn't move from Johnathan's. His voice was low, "I'm fine." His gloved hands covered in grime grabbed her wrist. "Let's go."

He pulled her from the home with no words uttered to anyone except a whisper to one of his men. The man nodded and moved into the house as the Starks left. 

…

"I leave you to slay wolves and yet I had left you in the jaws of one," Cregan huffed as he pulled off his boots. 

"It is alright. I am fine, Cregan." She tried to reason.

"No. No, do not give me pity. I left you alone there. I should have known better."

She sighed as she began to pull at her corset strings. "You could not have known that. You were tending to your people, as you should."

Cregan paused at her words, his hands gripping the bottom of his tunic. "I should be tending to you."

She pulled off her corset with a tug, "Then do so."

His eyes darkened as his eyes roamed over her body, "So I shall."

Cregan neared her, carefully and slowly pulling her various garments from her until she was left in nothing but her shift. 

He smiled and let his hands grip her waist, "You are a Stark." His thumbs traced lightly, "I can't have others believing otherwise."

She stepped a bit closer, nearing her face with his, "I will always be a Stark."

He leaned in the rest of the way, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.

But he paused for moment, "I'm filthy, my love. Perhaps we should wait-"

But she had pulled him to her, cutting him off with a kiss once more.

The kiss was everything that Cregan wasn't- soft, delicate, careful, and needy. 

He let out a soft groan when she pulled the hair at the back of his neck. 

Cregan led the two towards the bed, carefully placing her on the furs. Only then did their lips part, and his began to trace down her face. His voice was soft as he spoke, "I'll banish any trace of that man from you."

She hummed as he kissed down her neck, exactly where the man had kissed her only hours before. But unlike then, she was completely relaxed under Cregan's gaze. 

She could feel his smile against her neck. 

"May I have you tonight, my love?" He asked softly.

She paused her thoughts for a moment. 

She was stuck in time with Cregan. Her husband. 

Was it wrong to Robb?

He noted her hesitation and pushed himself up to look at her, "Don't fret about it. I won't be upset with you."

Her hesitation continued.

He nodded and one of his hands wandered down her body, "May I pleasure you, at least?"

He wanted to…

She felt herself nod before she could register why.

His smile was bright, "Thank you, my love."

Much like Cregan himself, his kisses became calculated and neat. He did nothing on a whim. The kisses began to trail down her body, over her clothing.

When they reached lower, he grabbed her thighs and pulled her legs up. 

A final look into her eyes, "You're sure?"

Another nod from her, "Please, Cregan."

His hand began to pull her thin shift up, "Of course, pretty."

With her shift stretched across her thighs, she couldn't see Cregan once he disappeared behind it. His touch on her thighs left for a moment.

She closed her eyes and waited for the feeling to begin.

But instead she felt a cold chill run down her. 

And the sound of the door opening. 

Her eyes shot open. 

Robb ran in, panting. She paused when he saw her and his jaw dropped a bit. 

His beautiful wife in nothing but her shift, legs open on the furs of their bed. 

"So, this is where you ran off to, is it?" He grinned. 

When she didn't answer from shock, he continued, "I don't know how you managed this so quickly, but you shall hear no complaint from me." He stepped toward her like a predator, "My wife just waiting for me to catch her? So eagerly waiting on me?"

Robb approached the foot of the bed. He grabbed the top of her thighs, "Well, guess what, my love?" He pulled her down the bed and to him. His voice lowered, "I've caught you."

"You have." She finally managed to pant out. 

His eyes roamed over her completely, "So pretty," he muttered. "And all mine." He caressed her face, "Who do you belong to?"

"I…" she paused, thrown off by his question. 

His voice became a heated growl, "Who do you belong to, love?"

"The… the Wolf of the North." She whispered to him.

He grinned, "Yes, you do."

But she couldn't help but remember the feeling of Cregan's hands on her not only moments ago.

...................................................................

A/N: I think I'm about to start doing some Aemond x reader stuff- comment if you want on that tag list! Or the tag list for this fic since I'm guessing I'll be doing a part 3

Taglist: @rlblackbarbie, @rebeccawinters

[goldsbitch]

Our wedding

Y/N and Lando probably went a little too overboard when planning their wedding. She finally looses it when his friend suggests a product placement bucket hat.

A dream wedding.

Distant palazzo, with acres of private lands to roam around at night. Lavish dress, designed to fit perfectly and re-done three times. Coordinators, who made sure everyone who needed to be invited actually was. And also took care about almost anything one can imagine.

A perfect wedding, that's what they both wanted. Go big or go home. Combining romance, with generously giving everyone they loved, or deemed important, the time of their life. To say that this event was supposed to be extra would be an understatement.

Lando said yes to all of Y/N's wished regarding flower arrangements, menu items and rooming lists. She said yes to all of this ideas about the music, sound systems set up in each part of the venue (because heaven would turn upside down if there had been one quiet spot with no music, according to Lando) and drinks choices. They could not agree on the photographer - so Lando just booked his, and hers option as well. Saving money was not on the table. He knew that the amount of good PR and brand deals the Quadrant team managed to get together was going to pay out in the long run. Everyone loves a wedding.

That's where the first issues started - the amount of people invited grew into higher hundreds. She voiced her point few times, but Lando quickly shut those off with a promise to book a private charter for all friends and family who were coming from her homeland. She caved in and agreed to just few more CEO's she'd never met, as long as they did not share their table.

It was the final two months before the wedding and things could not be more hectic. They had to plan the wedding around Lando's race schedule, so summer break between races it was. Y/N had to juggle her job with all of this planning, so she attended less races than she usually would. Most of the calls she shared with Lando were wedding related and it seemed like his best friend Max took it upon himself to speak on behalf of Lando - so sometimes it felt like she was marrying Max rather than her fiancé. After a total break down she had few days ago, which resulted in her crying on the phone to Lando at 4 am his local time, they agreed she absolutely had to come over to the next race so that they could find some down time.

//

Having to endure a tiring overnight flight, she finally stepped into the hotel where Lando was staying at. Exhausted, jet-lagged and generally in a bad mood were the main ingredients in the perfect cocktail of "you should just avoid me" Y/N. She finally opened the door to his room and let out a groan. Traveling to see him used to be her favorite thing. A bombastic cherry on top was that she immediately recognized Max's voice coming from the living room. Was this guy staying in the same room as them now?

"Y/N, is that you?" she heard, desperately hoping he hadn't heard her enter in. She felt like a bitch for wishing that, but he was the last person she wanted to see at that point. Her hopes of jumping in the bed and cuddling Lando the first thing coming here dissolved like cotton candy, leaving tooth aches behind.

"Yes, Max, it's me," she said, not even bothering adjusting her tone to something more socially appropriate.

"Great, just on time. Can you come in here? We have some decisions that are becoming pressing matters," he said dryly and added his own frustrated comment quietly "...since someone does not feel like answering emails." She heard that, bit her lip and swallowed all her comments, otherwise she would explode.

"What's up?" she asked, entering the living space. There were dozens of baseball caps and buckets hats laid down on the coffee table with Max and some random young guy towering over them.

"We need you to pick out one of these which you'll be wearing after the reception. I have a great brand deal on the table which I need to close today. So, go ahead - pick one." She could not believe the words coming out of Max's mouth. Was he for real?

"May I ask when did I agree to wearing a baseball cap with my dress right after my wedding?"

Max glanced at her and then rolled his eyes. "Can you just pick one? Lando is on board with this, he'll be wearing this green one," he pointed to objectively very nice stylish item of clothing - but still, it was a bucket hat. Rage levels shot up in Y/N blood steam.

"Max, I'm suppose to be wearing my wedding dress until the evening, that's also in some deal you guys made," she proclaimed, hoping this would finally make him get some sense. "The dress is very classical, I don't think this would fit the vibe."

"Oh, come, we agreed to sticking to the Quadrant Athletes color palette and all of these check that. We want to break the classical vibe up with this."

"I'm sorry, who exactly is we in this scenario? And who the fuck are you?!" she pointed at the guy standing next to Max.

"I'm...I'm the product placement controller," he said in a shy voice.

Her eyes just went wide at that point.

"Y/N, no need to freak out again, you need to create a viral moment to make the brand grow," Max said, as if he was talking about a new merch launch.

And that was the final straw. "I'm getting sick of you guys making my wedding into a Quadrant PR stunt. You need to realize this is my wedding, not yours! The whole event is already dripping with brand deals and promotions, is there nothing out of line to you? Will my mom also have to wear one of these hats? Will force the officiant to wear sneakers? Where will you stop?"

Max stared at her, his own cup finally also full. But unlike her, he spoke calmly - again, giving strong business vibes. "Oh, I'm sorry - I'm sorry I am pulling heaven and Earth to make sure your wedding does not ruin your future husband! I apologize that I seem to be more stressed about this wedding than you are. Sorry for caring and trying to uphold some standard."

"Max, this is all too much! I feel like I'm suffocating," she tried to reason with him once more.

He just had enough at that point. So many little moments of mutual disagreement finally grew on him.

"Yeah, well maybe you're just not suited for this world."

Before she could even take a breath to respond, a familiar voice cut them both off.

"Guys, that's enough I'd say," Lando said as he slowly stepped out the same corridor Y/N had entered moments ago. Both Max and Y/N turned around, knowing they'd have spoken way differently had they known he was there as well.

Max gulped, knowing he stepped over a line and immediately started to apologize. "Mate, I'm sorry, we just sort of lost it. I'm sorry."

Lando glanced at him, his face suddenly hard to read for both his friend and his fiancée. He quickly flashed Y/N a look, seeing the obvious distress finally on his own, in a way the camera on a phone just does not capture. It pained him to see them two fighting, but it pained him more to see her on the verge of crying.

She couldn't find words to apologize to Max. In fact she could barely even see him, as Lando took all of her attention.

"Can you guys leave us for now? I think we need to talk alone," Lando said in a tone so serious that Max hardly remembered last time he'd heard it.

"Yeah, mate. Of course," he said shyly, gesturing to his companion to quickly exit with him.

Once the door finally clicked, Y/N felt like she could get out of her frozen state.

"My god. Lando, I knew it would be a challenge these few months, but I did not expect to grow so far away from you," she said, as the words flew out of her mouth without her being able to control it.

He was more careful with his words, but brave nevertheless. "It's true. I don't think we've even been so distant."

Him acknowledging it just made it real and hurt more.

"Right. At least we have that in common."

There was an awkward silence, something these two hadn't experienced in months.

"Why is Max involved so much?" she asked, hoping that she would not hear anything that would make her biggest fear come true - Lando's lack of desire to marry her.

He took a moment to get his point in the right order. "He's my best friend. This is our wedding. I can't stop focusing on racing, but I want it to be perfect. I'd say not giving him any credit sometimes."

Of course, he was defending him. She wondered if he defended her in front of Max sometimes.

All card on the table. She gulped before uttering the next sentence. "I'm scared that I don't want to go to my own wedding anymore. I feel like an unwanted guest."

They shared a look full of hidden pain. It was impossible to tell, but Lando was scared as never before. "What are you saying...Do you want to call it of??"

She looked back at him, praying that he would understand. "God no, that's the last thing I want to do," she sighed and put her head in her hands. How did it got to a place where he could even assume that? "Marrying you, the love of my life, is my dream. In fact, I'd just like to jump to the moment where I can finally say yes to you."

The air still felt really heavy. "Then let's do just that."

"What do you mean?"

Lando took few steps closer to her, missing her close proximity for the past few weeks. He desperately needed to fix them. "Let's book a wedding for next week in Monaco, just you me and any other people required by the law."

The idea of that seemed silly at first. But the more she thought about it, the more she craved that idea. "So, you want to call the actual wedding off?"

Lando chuckled at the image of them cancelling that at last minute and all the hustle that would bring. "No, silly, not unless you really want to. But who says we can't have a fake ceremony there, celebrate with everyone, while already being married at that point? We don't need to tell anyone, keep the magic for them. We can have two weddings."

It was her time to laugh now. "So because we find organizing one wedding hard, we're going to be doing two now?"

"We are anything but conventional. And if this is news for you then, well...That would mean I'm marrying the queen of delulu. Twice."

The weight of the past weeks was lifted.

"Does this mean I can say "No." at the big wedding?" she teased him, closing the distance between them and holding his hand.

"Not if I'll say "No." first," he winked and quickly gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"I'm not wearing a bucket hat. Just stating that now."

"Oh come, at least one of our weddings," he said as he ruffled her hair. "Wow, I think you need a post airport shower, my love."

"Do not try and change the topic - no bucket hats!" she mumbles as she tried to fix her hair.

"Fine, I'll just get you drunk. You'll wear a bucket hat at one of our weddings one way or another."

It felt so good to just banter with him, like they always did before they got caught up in all the stress. A shot of guilt went through her system, as she flashed back at the whole process so far.

"I should probably apologize to Max," she uttered, avoiding his eye contact once again.

He finally hugged her. "Yeah probably. But...let him rot in his feelings for a moment. I hate when someone makes you upset. Apart from me, of course."

"What makes me upset right now is the alarming amount clothes you're wearing."

"That's my girl!"

//

They got legally married the following weekend, Lando bribing anyone he could in order for them to skip few spots that were unavailable. The first wedding was secret and full of inappropriate, but honest kisses. The second one was fake, but they slayed it together, as newly married couple. Without the stress of actually getting married, they really enjoyed their wedding. The little secret stayed with them - and Max of course, because he just had to get involved with everything.

[marvelfilth]

The Witches Trap 3

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x f! reader

Warnings: Wanda finally makes an appearance, pet names, ghosts, paranormal activity

Summary: "Silly, silly girl. Isn't it obvious? I want you."

Masterlist

"She must've seen something, right?" Kate's voice rings through the room.

You blink, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"She looked like she was about to fucking die," Yelena hisses, "of course she saw something. We need to leave."

"I don't think we can," Peter mumbles. "We tried, didn't we? And it led to whatever this is. I suggest we stay and leave in the morning."

"That's what she wants," Yelena objects. "Maybe you want us to just leave Y/n here alone, for good measure, to make that b- to make her even happier."

You groan, burrowing your face in the pillow.

What the hell are they talking about?

Kate's eyes flicker to you, seeing you no longer asleep. She clears her throat. "I think Y/n should decide."

You sit up, rubbing your eyes. You feel like you've been run over by a train.

"What happened?"

"W-what do you mean what happened?" Yelena asks. "You tell us what happened. You looked like you'd seen a ghost."

Kate nods in agreement, her eyes full of concern. You blink rapidly, trying to remember. "I went to the restroom, that's all," you mumble, unsure. You vaguely remember turning around and leaving the group, and after that everything is too hazy to make out.

They fall silent, disbelief all over their features.

"Crap." Peter starts pacing back and forth. "Okay, it's fine. Nothing happened. Everything is good. Everything's great."

"Looks like everything is okay," Yelena scoffs, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

You frown, oblivious to what caused the sudden tension. All of them look shaken up and ready to bolt any second. You look at Kate for some help, but she sits still, staring at the bathroom door, her eyes welling with tears.

"I don't like this, guys," she whispers.

"Hey, it's okay. We'll sleep here together, this room is not haunted at all, so we'll be safe," Peter reassures, stopping his pacing to look Kate in the eye.

You look around, only now realizing it's not the room you've previously been to. This one is a bit smaller, but the bed should be big enough to fit you all. This must be the other room Peter booked, the one across the hall from the haunted one.

You shake your head, getting rid of any lingering traces of sleep, and look at the clock.

2:08.

It's been two hours since your conversation in the haunted room, but it feels like you've been here for days.

Your friends get ready to sleep, occupying the bathroom one by one, and eventually settling on the bed sideways - to fit everyone. Peter wishes everyone good night and turns off the light on the nightstand.

Their breaths even out, chests rising up and down slowly as they succumb to sleep, leaving you to stare at the blinking light of the night vision camera. You sigh, and turn on your side, counting sheep.

Now that everything is asleep you're even more aware of every little creek and tap in the old building. The storm has passed, leaving the grounds a mess of dirt and wood, so you couldn't even blame all of the sounds on that.

Balcony's floorboards creak and your heart falls to your stomach. You sit up and look at the camera, wondering if it picked up any of the sounds.

Then you hear footsteps.

You press the heels of your palms into your eyes and shake your head, trying to ward off the inevitable.

Whatever is outside stops just outside the balcony door.

It almost feels like an invitation.

You try to shake off the feeling of being watched, falling back on the bed and burrowing your face into Yelena's back, but it doesn't work. You still feel the looming presence of the outsider, you feel like you can't just leave them there.

Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath, grab the camera, and walk to the balcony door, opening it before you can change your mind.

"Hey stranger," a young woman greets, making you jump up.

"Oh, thank God," you exhale, rubbing your chest. "Hi. I thought you were a ghost," you let out a breathless chuckle.

She laughs along, her nose wrinkling in the cutest way. "I know what you mean. Sometimes I get scared by my own shadow, so staying in a place like this takes at least two years out of my lifespan."

You grin, and allow yourself to relax in her presence, coming closer to rest your weight against the railing, close enough to feel the warmth coming from her body, but not close enough to accidentally touch her. The woman is beautiful, arguably the most beautiful woman you've seen in your entire life and you struggle to form a sentence with her green eyes focused on you.

"I'm Y/n," you blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to let her know your name.

She smiles, nodding at the camera on your hands. "Ghost hunting?" She teases good naturally, gently pushing you with her shoulder.

You snort, "Something like that."

She chuckles, turning to look at the moon. "Any luck with that?"

You groan, bending to rest your forehead against the cold railing. "I think ghosts here like me." You sneak a glance, and find her looking at you with a small smile.

She turns to face you fully. "I can see why."

Your heart stops for a second, you're sure of it.

But before you can say anything in response the camera in your hand beeps loudly, making you jump again.

Way to make a great first impression.

"I- um… I think I need to charge it," you mumble, cursing inwardly.

"Come back when you're done? All of my friends are asleep, and it's too creepy being out here alone." She pouts slightly, fiddling with her fingers.

You nod, and quickly dart back inside, plugging the charger in the nearest outlet, failing to see a shadow of a little girl in the corner.

When you come back the woman is still there, her expression almost serene as she watches the moon.

"Why did you come here if you're so afraid?" You ask, moving to stand close to her.

"Why did you?"

You smile, feeling light for the first time since stepping foot in this hotel. "My friend asked me to."

She hums, and turns to look at you, her fingers so tight around the railing you're afraid it might snap.

"You must be a great friend to go through all that for him."

You blush slightly, and duck your face between your elbows where they rest over the railing. "I honestly didn't believe in any of that, thought it'd be a fun, spooky trip."

"And do you believe now?" She asks, her eyes burning with intensity.

You sigh, recalling everything that happened in the last six hours: the first time you felt something weird right away, in the lobby; the old door, still fresh in your mind, still calling to you to open it; the warmth and the longing, still clinging to your bones; flashing images of what felt like memories. It certainly feels way longer than that.

"I do," you answer simply, noting the way her shoulders drop in relief.

"I do, too," she says, now resting almost all of her weight on the railing. You frown, and make a move to reach out, halting just before you touch her, hesitant to cross a boundary. "Are you okay?

She hums, briefly closing her eyes. "I think I need to lay down."

You gulp. "Of course! I- do you need help?"

She nods, and reaches out to you, her hand trembling. Her touch sends shivers down your spine, both from the fact that it's her, and the fact that her hand is freezing cold. You allow her fingers to wrap around your elbow, feeling none of the warmth you've felt emitting from her mere minutes before. You feel goosebumps litter your skin as hair stands up on the back of your neck. Warning bells go off in your head, and your body starts protesting every step you try to take, but you can't just leave her here, you need to get her back to her room and then you'll be gone.

Your brain doesn't seem to listen.

Your vision blurs as the woman grips you tighter, and you have to take measured breaths in order not to throw up.

You walk beside her, turning left, and realize that the balcony wraps around the hotel. You gulp, feeling dread in your stomach - one more turn and you'll be right in front of the most haunted room.

You look at the redhead, almost falling on the spot when you see her pale face. She looks like she's about to drop dead.

"I should get you a doctor," you whisper, "or Agatha, she'll know what to do." You try to pull away, but her grip turns to steel, her eyes gaining focus as she looks at you.

"Not Agatha… j-just get me to my room, please."

You nod, and swallow your fear, turning left again. You walk past room 208 a bit quicker, and if the woman notices, she doesn't comment, simply leaning into you even more.

When you pass room 206 your feet grow heavier.

When you pass room 204 you feel cold sweat roll down your temples.

When you pass room 202, your body stops moving altogether.

You freeze before room 200, the balcony door somehow different from all the other ones you've passed. You feel immense pressure on your chest, your heart beating so hard and fast it might just break your ribs.

The woman is no longer beside you, she stepped back, her hands now at the small of your back, gently ushering you inside. "Open it," she whispers, her breath ghosting over the back of your neck.

You nod, your eyelids are suddenly too heavy to keep your eyes fully open. You blink slowly, struggling to keep yourself upright. She takes your hand and raises it to the knob. You turn it slowly, and it creaks loudly, the metal scraping after a long time of disuse.

"Now go inside," she breathes once the door is finally open, her lips inches away from your neck. She's molded against your back, so close she might as well be a part of you. You hum, head falling on her shoulder, your hand still on the knob.

"C'mon, silly girl, one more step," she urges quietly, her hands circling your waist. "Don't make me force you."

You nod dumbly, her words making no sense to your muddled brain, but understand her intent. She wants you in her room. You nod again, struggling to remember why you're even here. You remember going to sleep with your friends, but the memory feels too distant now, too gray and murky to make out anything beyond those minutes.

She pushes you forward, and your feet catch on the carpet as you step inside, making you fall on the floor, coughing as the dust rises around you. Your head is a little clearer without her proximity, and once you take a good look at your surroundings, you finally understand why your body reacted that way. You jerk, falling on your ass in haste to get back to the balcony, but the door is already closed, the knob not budging no matter how hard you turn it. There's no window to break, no other escape, but the old wooden door - the one that's been haunting since you first saw it, the one leading to the room you're now in.

The room looks as old as the door. Four poster bed sits in the middle of the room, the dark wood full of splinters, a deep red cloth draped over the mattress, inviting and soft. The walls are bare, cobwebs occupy the corners. The only other piece of furniture is a small table pushed against a wall, pieces of parchment littering it.

"Welcome," the woman breaks the silence. You look at her, frowning at the lack of fatigue in her voice.

Everything starts making sense little by little.

"You weren't actually sick, were you?" You mutter, standing rigid against the balcony door.

A corner of her mouth lifts up in a crooked smile. "I was. It's hard to manifest a physical body outside of this room. Your camera helped-" you gulp, understanding dawning on you, "-and your friends did too. Do you want to know what their fear tastes like?"

You shake your head, eyes blurring with tears, and close your eyes when she comes to stand in front of you, her chest against yours, her lips dangerously close to your own.

"It's too sour, I didn't enjoy it at all." She cups your jaw, catching your tears with her thumbs. "Your fear, on the other hand… it's luscious, tangy with a hint of sweetness. Addictive, just like I remember it." She coos when you start shaking, leaning down to inhale your scent, making you squirm. Her nose is in the crook of your neck, her lips scalding hot on your collarbone. "There it is…" she breathes, clutching your hips, and then, "Oh."

You stop breathing altogether, your hands in fists. "What?" You dare to question, opening your eyes to see her green pools full of hunger.

She chuckles, pulling away to study your face. "I smell honey, darling." She licks her lips, her eyes start glowing red. "You're terrified, and still… Such a silly girl you are. Always were."

You close your eyes, embarrassment creeping up on your features, cursing your body for having a reaction to her proximity. "Why am I here?"

She pulls away abruptly, her face twisting in anger. "I was calling for you all night, you were supposed to get here a long time ago. Agatha just wouldn't fucking leave you alone." You slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as she keeps muttering angrily. "That old bitch couldn't keep her nose out of my business, no, she had to stop you, had to keep warning you."

You look up, severely confused. "What are you talking about?"

She chuckles darkly. "You don't remember?" She smirks when you shake your head, half of her face illuminated by the moonlight, the other hidden in the shadow. "Looks like she took pity on you and removed the memory. What a shame, I spent a lot of energy to make you see all of us. But don't you worry, I got it back tenfold from you." She crouches inches away from you and forces you face up, inhaling deeply, tips of her fingers - so, so warm now - digging into the softness of your cheek. "You're making this very hard for me, pet."

You gulp, grabbing onto her hand still cupping your jaw, head swimming. Agatha… removed memories… What is this place?

"Just- just tell me what you want."

She leans down, laughing, the sound so light and angelic it almost makes you smile. "Silly, silly girl. Isn't it obvious? I want you," she whispers right in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. She pulls away to gauge your reaction, pupils dilating in satisfaction when she sees your wide eyes. "That's right. I've been waiting for more than a century for you. Do you think I'll let you go after that?"

You shake your head, blinking away the tears. Agatha words ring in your head, the painting Peter showed you flashes before your eyes.

"This can't be real. This is all a dream. A nightmare, a stupid nightmare."

Her eyes narrow to dangerous slits as soon as the words leave your lips. She steps back, harshly tugging you up to your feet. You follow her like a mindless puppet, your feet catching on the old carpet as you stumble after her to the other side of the room.

“Look,” she orders, shoving you against the table with unsurprising strength.

You gulp, straightening yourself before looking down at the old piece of parchment laying on the table. Your brows furrow, struggling to make out scribbled words, half of them splattered with something red - you think you can safely assume it is blood. It's a contract of some sort, binding two people.

“What am I looking at?” you ask, feeling stupid.

She molds against your back, her body almost scalding hot, her breath fanning your neck. “Think, pet.”

You shudder, gripping the edge of the table in a vice grip, and think back to what Agatha told you. That fucking portrait.

“I’m not who you think I am.”

She chuckles, lips ghosting over the juncture of your neck. “Yes, you are.”

You nearly whimper at the breathy tone, unconsciously relaxing against her. “I'm not her, I'm not the woman you saved.”

She hums, gently nibbling on your skin. “Yes, you are.”

You take a deep breath, reigning in your unwanted feelings. “What do you want from me?”

“Everything,” she growls, arms snaking around your waist. She holds you in an ironclad grip, unperturbed by your struggle, and tugs you to the bed before pushing you face first on the dusty bedding. You cough, pushing away from the old fabric to take a breath, your lungs burning.

She sits at the foot of the bed almost regally, her back ramrod straight, her jaw clenched. You scramble away, getting caught up in the layers and falling back on the pillows, her amused smile settling fury in your chest alight.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, eyes darting around the room in search of some sort of weapon. You think back to Kate and the cross on her chest, desperately wishing you had one too.

“There will be time for that,” she drawls, eyes flashing red, her full lips stretching even further, one corner higher than the other in a crooked smirk. “This will be easier if you stop fighting and accept your fate.”

You scoff, high on adrenaline and fear, your chest heaving rapidly. There must be a way to get out of this mess. You look around like a caged animal, searching for a way to escape.

“Calm down.”

“Don't tell me to calm down!” You yell, teeth bared.

She swiftly closes the distance, cupping your cheeks, her face getting dangerously close to yours. Your breath hitches, blood pumping faster, your pulse drumming in your neck. She breathes in deeply, closing her eyes as she savors the smell of your fear and… something else you couldn't admit even to yourself.

“Breathe,” she whispers, slowly opening her eyes, “breathe with me, pet.” Her fingers circle your wrist before tugging it to her chest. The fabric of her shirt is soft to the touch, and you relax slightly, following her breathing, your heart slowing its rhythm. “Good girl,” she purrs, nuzzling into your neck. “Now we'll talk.”

You look away and nod.

She walks back to the table, and you hate how cold you feel without her close to you. She gives you the parchment, and this time you pay it the attention it deserves, with your head a little clearer now after you finally realized there's no escaping her.

“What's your name?” you whisper, looking up from the document in your hands.

She looks at you for a long moment, searching your face for something. “Wanda.” She says simply and sits beside you, falling back against the dusty pillows.

You nod, rolling the name on your tongue. It suits her, you think.

You set your attention back to the contract, unconsciously leaning back into the feeling of her fingers ghosting the small of your back. It's hard to make out most of the centuries old legalese, but you're sure you've seen “soul”, “binding” and “eternal”. It's enough to make you shiver.

“There's no reason for you to be afraid. You chose to trust me all these years ago. I saved you, now it's your turn to save me.”

You gulp, scooting away from her touch, missing the way her brows furrow. “What do I have to do for you to leave me alone?”

“Were you even listening?” she scoffs, pushing closer. “You're mine.” Her eyes glint, swirls of red flickering in the depths of her emerald pools, reminding you of the danger she possesses. “For all eternity. In this lifetime and in the next one, and when there's nothing to this world, but ash, you'll be mine in whatever world comes after.”

You shudder from the intensity, eyes flickering to her mouth just in time to see her tongue dart out to wet her full lips. You gulp, turning away.

You need to get a grip on yourself.

“Why me? Hundreds asked for your help, but you chose me. Why?”

You feel her fingertips graze your jaw, before she cups your face, turning it to face her. “None of them offered what I wanted.”

You blink. “And I did?”

The corner of her mouth quirks up in a smug half-smile. “You did. You've sought me out. You've made me listen.”

“But you… Agatha said-”

“I don't care what that lying old bitch said,” she growls, fury rising in her eyes. “She stole my power and confined me to the grounds, this very room, making me a prisoner. I was her apprentice once, a very long time ago, she even asked me to join her coven, but when it became apparent that I'm much stronger, much more powerful, she got enraged. The others noticed it too. There were whispers of an old tale, one hidden in the pages of Darkhold, about a witch so powerful she had no need for a coven, no need for a spell book or teacher. Agatha didn't want any competition.” She looks at you and you nod slowly in realization. You took Agatha's words at face value, unperturbed by the fact that she seemed to know what regular people couldn't, but now it's all starting to make sense, little by little.

“Scarlet Witch?” You take a guess, searching her eyes for the answer. She nods slowly, rage still shimmering in her eye.

“Agatha wanted power, and when it became apparent I had too much of it I became her target. She had to sacrifice her coven to bind me and banish me of my strength. I was biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike, feeding on those poor girls' agony, taking power from the unsuspecting, wringing their minds and souls, all to simply survive.” She looks at you, her expression softening slightly, making her look so young. “And then I heard you.”

You inhale sharply, her fingers running over the expanse of the skin of your inner wrist, thumb settling over your pounding pulse. You gnaw on your bottom lip, knowing damn well your pulse quickened noticeably. “What did I say?” You ask without a second thought, fully accepting your past self.

A corner of her lip quirks up, before she leans and whispers against your ear, “You got on your knees and begged. You promised me your body and soul, your heart and your mind. You knew how to make me listen, knew what attracts me most.”

You swallow, shifting slightly. You freeze when you realize just how wet you are. “And what- what was that?”

She chuckles, cupping your jaw in her soft, warm hands. “A desperate pretty girl, on her knees, ready for me to claim her.” She says against your lips before pulling you in a bruising kiss, her grip on you turning possessive. She tugs you on her lap, her arms tight around you, your hearts beating as one. When she pulls away you chase her lips, whining, your fingers tightening around her waist. “Please…” you murmur, not knowing what you're asking for.

“Please what, pet?” She taunts, pushing you off her lap. “Do you want me to let you go? Want to go back to your friends?”

You shake your head before she finishes her sentence, your head growing heavy, your body trembling. “No.”

She chuckles, curling your hair around her forefinger before pushing it behind your ear, her palm scalding hot on your cheek. “I like it when you're afraid, but I like you like this much more.”

You blush, putting some distance between you two. “What- what happens now?”

“Now you set me free.”

[papaya-twinks]

random request but lando norris x reader where he comes to her undergrad graduation or med school?

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, (i have severe mental issues)

Pairing: Lando Norris x medical!student!reader

A/N - sorry to add a negative message, but to y’all who keep sending me hate coz I’m not able to do your request the same day it’s sent, fuck you bud. I’m trying juggle fucking uni and my own job, so deal with it yourself if you want it written so bad. But anyways, @slytherinholland this is a sick request, sorry it took a while

“This robe is SO unflattering,” you groaned, eyeing the outfit in the mirror as you dropped the fifth belt onto the bed. “It’s just a few hours in it,” your best friend smiled, “and that too, no matter what belt, there’s no fixing that,” she grimaced as you snorted. “Yeah, I can tell,” you laughed. And the graduation went well, you collected your certificates and threw your hats, but it was about to get even better. “Oh my god, I’m so happy!” you clapped your hand as your best friend raised an eyebrow.

“Wha-Lando?!” you shrieked, your boyfriend standing behind you as you turned around, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “Thought I’d miss this?” he asked, seeing if you’d really doubted him. He was wearing a green hoodie and joggers, matching your robe and aesthetic. Wow, he really thought a lot about the details. “Oh god,” you threw your arms round his neck, “sorry this outfits a bit…” you gestured vaguely at yourself. “A bit ugly,” your best friend finished, making Lando laugh.

Saying your goodbyes to your friends, you smiled awkwardly at Lando. “Ya know,” he said, gesturing for you to get into his car, “it’s not terrible,”. You raised an eyebrow. “The fit,” Lando explained, “you know who it’d look better?”. Seriously? He had an idea? You thought there was no fixing it. “I’ll show you,” he said, seeing your disbelieving face. You had a bit of small talk, answering his questions about a few things and asking about races, cracking jokes and making each other laugh. Very different to what he had planned.

“Still revising?” he scoffed, seeing you sat at the desk in his apartment, books laid out. “Yeah, got one final exam. Biggest one yet,” you frowned, trying to memorise the body anatomy. “What you learning?” you knew he wouldn’t understand it, just trying to show some sort of interest in your life. “Anatomy,” you showed him the human body diagram. “God, I don’t get why they won’t just let you take a mannequin home,” you groaned. “I can help,” Lando volunteered, hands in his pockets.

“You gonna steal a mannequin?” you raised an eyebrow. “No, silly, I can be the mannequin,” he shrugged, cheeks dusted with a soft pink blush as you blinked. “Okay,” you said, letting him take your hand before he allowed you to lay him down, his eyes trained on yours. “There’s a reason they don’t make mannequins hot,” you muttered, his gaze unfaltering as your flushed. “What was that?” he smirked, knowing he heard you as you rolled your eyes. “Nothing,” you shrugged.

“Stop, that tickles,” he huffed, your featherlight touches along his neck and shoulders making him wriggle. “Better?” you dug your nail into his chest, making him push you slightly. “You’re a pain. Can I help with anything?” he tried to be helpful. “I can’t really see much,” you shrugged, pulling at his hoodie, letting him read the situation and remove it. “Better?” he asked. “Better,” you nodded. “Out loud,” he commanded, his voice deeper slightly as he watched your finger trail down his chest. “Ventriculus,” you said, cheeks flushed as you trailed over his stomach.

“Ishcium,” your hand reached his hips, his lips parting slightly as his chest lifted up and down quicker. “Mhm, what about lower?” he asked, your eyes closing as you tried to hide your blush. “Lando…” you mumbled, his hands coming to your wrist to press your hand against him, his cock semi-hard against your palm. “What is it, hm?” he looked at you, his lips spread into a smirk. Without hesitation, you pulled his joggers down, his cock springing against you as you gasped, hand coming to throw base of it instinctively.

“Fuck,” he hissed, his eyelashes fluttering at the sensation. You hummer softly and, without asking, you wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around as he groaned. “Fuck, Y/N,” he gasped, his hand coming to the back of your head as he pushed you softly more. “What’s the called, hm?” he said, hand coming to feel the bump in your cheek as your eyes rolled slightly. The words came out as muffles, making him frown slightly.

“Can’t hear you,” he said, pulling you off as you spluttered, his hand on your neck. “What is it?” he asked again, voice more commanding. “Glans,” you coughed, a smirk on his face as your hand wrapped onto his tip again. “Lift,” he said, sliding the robes off of your body as you crawled onto his chest, head on his shoulder and as he sit up, lifting you onto his lap. “Miss this,” he mumbled, lifting you so he could align himself with your entrance.

“Me too, Lan,” you moaned as he pushed in, his eyes on your face, a picture of bliss and ecstasy, as you sunk down onto him. His hands gripped your waist as he slammed upwards into you, your hips rolling back onto him as his teeth sunk into your neck softly. “Fuck, Lan,” you gasped, his cock hitting the perfect spots as he sucked onto your skin, your eyes rolling slightly. “Gonna cum for me, pretty?” he cooed, hands cupping your cheeks as you choked out a small ‘yes’. “Then go on,” he said, slowing down as you felt yourself come undone all over him.

“Orgasm,” you tapped your boyfriend’s stomach as he pulled out of you, an airy laugh ringing vibrating through his chest. “Yeah, know that one,” he cupped your cheek, pressing a kiss to your head. “Unless you wanna test out the reproductive system, I think it’s best we clean up,” he said, staring at his cum pooling between your legs. “Ideally no, but unfortunately, we have to,” you kicked your foot in mock sadness as he laughed. “Alright, Miss ‘I have a PhD,’” he snorted as you flushed. “I’d never pull that card on anyone!” you said, rolling your eyes. And not even ten minutes later, you did.

[clockwayswrites]

Both Ways at Once Part 1

wc 868, Masterpost

“You’ve read the dossier?”

The clipped words were in time with their quick steps down the pristine white hall.

“Yes.”

“All of it?”

Danny resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Unlike you, Hellblazer, I read my contracts before I sign them.”

“You wound me, Pomp,” John said, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’m just trying to protect you from the Big Bad Bat. He’s had a bit of a mare over this case. Hell, as a consultant, you shouldn’t even be seeing this with the access level things are at, but…”

“But you’re stuck and need my pretty baby blues on things to help you out,” Danny said, batting his lashes obnoxiously at John.

“Fuck off,” John said without any heat and shoved Danny away. “But the Bat is anxious about it. All the Bats are. If you can help us solve it sooner, then the better, because when the Bats are on edge, everyone is on edge. And it’s a fucking nightmare around here already with all the bloody do-gooders let alone when they’re all worked up about something…”

“Everyone’s on edge, got it.”

“Nightingale,” John said, voice unusually serious— serious enough to make Danny stop even without the hand on his arm. “I’m not saying this lightly. I like you, like you well enough for a psychopomp and whatever the fuck else you are at least. Tread lightly.”

“Got it, Constantine. I’ll work extra hard not to piss anyone off,” Danny said, patting John’s hand with his own tattooed one. Danny picked back up his same quick pace, but his mind now spun trying to figure out what exactly he was walking into. The dossier hadn’t gone into details, just conditions. Supposedly the risk— some side effect created by a villainous magical spell gone wrong— was presently and thoroughly contained. Danny would be able to observe the risk, the individual originally affected, and the items present at the time. He was not to interact directly with the risk, answer it’s questions, or under any circumstance touch it.

It read as a pretty standard contract magical unknown.

John wouldn’t be this concerned by a standard magical unknown. So what was he about to walk into? It seemed like he might actually want to listen to John this time, even if that was always a fifty-fifty chance of being an absurdly stupid idea.

Danny shifted his grip anxiously on the handle of his kit: an old traveling salesman’s briefcase fitted out with a careful collection of haphazard items. Most of the other occult practitioners mocked Danny’s tendency for used items. Half burned candles, old books wiped and rewritten, estate sale candy dishes— odd choices for most people, but for Danny they sang. They spilled the secrets of the world known and unknown to him. He had to trust that between his tools and his skills (let them believe he was a mere psychopomp), he would come out of this at least safe, if not with answers.

Didn’t mean that a few of his tattoos didn’t crawl in warning.

(Who knew what spot of skin that damn ink moth would wander to now.)

“Justice Leaguers,” Danny greeted with a nod as they finally finished winding through repetitive hallways and stopped outside a room.

“Nightingale, thank you for being able to attend to this so promptly,” Wonder Woman greeted him. Of the Justice League members (outside of the Darks) that Danny had interacted with on other consulting gigs she might be Danny’s favorite, so he offered her a smile.

“Of course, it sounded like things were possibly on a time table from the contract, so I’m glad I was between pressing matters,” Danny said. Right then his most pressing matter was a need to find a laundry mat, but the Justice League certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Right, well,” John jumped in when no one else said anything, not that Danny had expected much from Batman with how he was lurking like a shadow. “Er, this way.”

Danny glanced at the room label of ‘containment cells’ as the door unlocked with a clank and hissed open. After John’s warning, he wasn’t surprised that they were taking whatever this was seriously.

There was more white and gleaming metal behind the door. A neat row of spartan cells were set behind thick acrylic glass and metal. Danny’s eyes locked on the figure in the third cell. He stumbled.

He might be sick.

“What the fuck are you all doing?!” The words ripped from Danny in a snarl.

That was a protector spirit.

He brushed past Wonder Woman and through John’s reaching arm.

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

Intangibility washed over Danny, cold as always, as he stepped through the glass wall of the cell.

The spirit stopped in their pacing, the opaque red helmet tilting.

John screamed something at him.

The flashing red of alarms glinted off gleaming surfaces.

Danny reached out and rested his hand over the spirit’s sternum, and they practically crumpled around the touch. Gloved hands clung desperately to Danny’s arm.

A low growl rumbled in Danny’s chest. “They’re hurting you.”

They had a protector spirit in a cell.

How dare they.

----

AN: So, um, yeah. Still sick. Not a cold or allergies at all and not easy to clear up and prob a new life long thing. Which is great. Super cool. I needed more ways to be sick.

But have the start of this thing that I used to take my mind off things! My, what could be going on?? (Also why do I apparently have a tattooed Danny agenda?)

Stay delightful (and well), darlings!

I no longer tag people for various reasons. You can instead be notified by subscribing to the masterpost!

[kquil]

REMUS LUPIN | NOT SO SECRET ADMIRER PRT.2

REQUEST. : First I would like to say that I started following you because of Remus' imagine “Not so secret admirer” and my request is like a “continuation” with their first date, if possible ... ⏤ @jennieasfrance

TAGS. : reader is too shy ; but she warms up to things ; bookworm reader ; tutor remus ; puppy love ; remus has love eyes for you ; you have to pass exams ; hogsmeade weekend date with conditions

LENGTH : 1.3k

PART ONE

“Nice try, Moony,” Sirius pats his pitiful friend’s shoulder with an apologetic smile. It didn’t start off like this. In the beginning, when Remus first started trying to approach you, whenever he was able — in the great hall or in the corridors —, Sirius laughed at his friend’s miserable attempts but now… now it was just sad. 

“She called me pretty,” Remus sighs sadly, “so why is she always running away from me?” 

“Maybe you’re just too pretty?” Peter muses, scratching the back of his neck bashfully, “I know I wouldn’t dare approach anyone I thought was too pretty,” at his comment, James comes up behind the blonde to wrap an arm around his shoulders and give him a comforting squeeze. 

“Thanks Pete,” Remus musters a weak smile but it isn’t enough to lift his mood. His focus is nowhere in particular as he contemplates the karmic reasons for his current circumstance in love. It was even more difficult to approach you because you were a year younger and a Ravenclaw, meaning that you already spent little time together atop not being in the same year group. 

“At least you two have something in common,” Sirius sighs, his voice straining slightly as he stretches his arms up. 

“Yeah?” Remus prompts, flashing Peter a small smile as he watches James ruffle the dirty blonde’s hair affectionately. 

“You’re a pair of bookworms,” Sirius points to you entering the library with an impressive pile of borrowed books in your arms. Having followed the direction of Sirius’ finger, Remus smiles fondly at your charming mannerisms. A bookworm chasing another bookworm, how fitting. 

Despite his complaints, Sirius became the sole reason Remus spent even more of his spare time in the library — just to catch a glimpse of you. Studying, writing, reading for pleasure or for classes, he’s seen it all and he knows that you know he has. 

Ever since you’ve had that run in with Remus in the hallway, where you embarrassingly called him pretty before running away, he’s been appearing everywhere. It was so sudden, you didn’t know what to do. And he keeps making eye contact with you as well. It’s so flustering that you can’t help but run away. In the beginning, you weren’t able to register any of the emotions behind his eyes but after meeting his gaze so often…

“He’s looking at you the same way you look at him,” your best friend giggles into your ear and earns a shove to the shoulder that only makes her laugh even harder. It makes you frown before the librarian makes her way over and quickly reprimands her. Now you’re the one giggling. 

Remus sees all this and can’t help but sigh, a dopey smile on his face. You just look— ‘so pretty… I want to make her laugh like that all the time…’ Remus thinks to himself. 

“He’s in love…” Sirius gags to his right, his expression pulled into a look of repulsion “it’s so disgusting,” 

Remus rolls his eyes and continues to stare at you, “I’m not as bad as James,”

“Hey!” 

“True…” Sirius muses and is slowly followed by James grumbling pathetically as Peter rubs his back in comfort. 

Just as Remus rolls his eyes and turns his gaze towards you once more, you lock gazes; instead of immediately running away, Remus sees the beginnings of a smile on your lips before your face disappears behind a book. It took an entire month but he’s finally got his foot in the door! He could start singing if he wanted to!    

You weren’t running away anymore so Remus had some confidence that he could finally speak to you and have a proper conversation, he just needed to have the right entrance. 

“Is this seat taken?” Remus asks, holding his breath as he sees your grip on the book cover tighten. You don’t answer and simply stare up at him with your mouth agape so he sits down anyway, not too close but not too far away, “There weren’t any other seats, sorry,” you look around and immediately notice several free seats that he could have sat at. 

“U-Umm…”

“What are you reading there?” If there was one thing Remus learned from Sirius, it was that gentle persistence was key.

“...Standard book of spells, grade 5,” you reply in a soft voice, avoiding Remus’ eyes by focusing on the book in your hands. It seemed like you were both back to square one again since you completely avoided his eyes but he won’t be deterred. 

Remus has seen the large amount of parchment surrounding you when first approaching and now that he’s had a closer look, it’s easy to suspect why, “you have exams coming up?” you affirm his speculation with a hum and a nod, “would you like some help?” 

Whenever Remus saw you studying at the library, he’d take the nearest available seat and tutor you willingly, never taking ‘no’ for an answer— not that you could ever say ‘no’ to him, he wasn't even coercive; he always addressed you with the gentlest tone and with the kindest, most patient eyes you’ve ever been witness to. You were practically a puddle of gloo in the palm of his hands. That didn’t jeopardise your studies, however; Remus was an excellent teacher, better than half of the teachers in the school put together and your performance in class was skyrocketing.  

You saw Remus almost every day for three weeks and your exams were quickly approaching but, rather than become anxious over the approaching dates, you only grew excited at the prospect of proving yourself academically — it was the true Ravenclaw in you.

“Good job,” Remus praises and offers a square of chocolate that you immediately brighten at. These were one of the many highlights of your study dates with the older Gryffindor, he always carried bars of the sweet, creamy treat with him and loved conditioning you into thinking that the taste of academic success was chocolate. You had no complaints, however; you love chocolate and gave it your full, undivided attention whenever given a piece for a job well done. 

Beside you, Remus rests his chin on his palm and smiles in adoration of your precious appearance. You look too adorable eating your prized chocolate for Remus to not lovingly stare at you. It makes you all the more loveable to him and he’s grown addicted to the warm, fluttering feeling in his chest whenever you do something so lovably sweet — happily indulging in his many offerings of chocolate were one of those things. 

“Your exam is tomorrow, right?” Remus muses as you finish up your square of chocolate. 

“Yup!”

“You don’t seem worried,” lifting your gaze up, you find Remus smiling at you with such an admiring stare that you have to look away. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to such affectionate attention from someone that gives you butterflies. 

“I’m pretty confident,” 

“If you get a good grade, I’ll treat you to a butterbeer in the next Hogsmeade weekend,” his promise catches you off guard; you believed that your little ‘dates’ were restricted to school work only so his proposal and all of its implications warmed your chest like no other, “if not, then I’ll treat you to anything you want at Honeydukes,” 

“R-really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” his eyes told you everything you needed to know to trust in his words. 

With a shy nod and a soft, “alright,” the date was set; both of you knew that you were going to pass with flying colours so there wasn’t any need for such a condition — Remus should have just asked you out plain and simple but… he gets shy around you too. In a spontaneous act of courage, however, Remus leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, holding your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger. 

With mutually hot cheeks, you two look into each other’s eyes with awe, “I really hope you get those grades,” he whispers just as a small assembly of gasps, encouraging shouts, shoving and hitting could be heard in the background. The marauders sat across from you, on a separate table, and saw the bold move Remus just made. And, of course, it was their job to embarrass him as much as possible by purely uplifting his romantic venture. 

“Way to go, Moony!”

“Scored a date, did ya’?! Lucky bastard!”

“Save some forehead kisses for us too, okay?” As Sirius flutters his lashes dramatically, Remus takes the book in his hand and whacks them all upside the head as you remain seated with your racing thoughts and pounding heart. 

“Shut your trap, we’re in the library,” Remus scolds, voice stern and eyes cold, a contrast to his usually soft demeanour around you. It was quite attractive seeing a different side to him. And, like clockwork, you begin to daydream of the brunette, eyes still fixed on his tall, broad figure when he turns to face you with a smile, as beautiful as can be.

You really hope you get those grades too… 

PART 3 →

A/N : this was highly requested and was also requested for my recent 1k milestone event. i'm sorry this took such a long time to write, the request was for a first date scenario and i suppose the do go on a date (several dates) in this part but it's not official, i think a third part is on its way for their real first date

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @chullu-bhar-paani @rosalyn-s @nottherealslimshady

(again, i took the liberty of tagging people who expressed their interest for a part 2 in the first timestamp - i hope that's okay with you darlings)

[hcsiqs]

wait “bad idea right?” was cute 🥹🥹🥹 i need more kate x singer!reader! perhaps singer!reader moving her life to go live with kate in vegas? 🥹 please please pleek and thank you !

| we really were timeless

• pairing: kate martin x fem!reader

• summary: reader is on tiktok live showing her new home in las vegas and her fans get a glimpse into the life of her and kate.

• word count: 1.1k

• find part 1 here

“Heyy!” you waved into the camera with an unknown background behind you, that your fans had seemed to question as soon as they noticed the room. “No, I’m not in Iowa” you laughed, setting the camera down in the bedroom you and Kate shared. The bedroom was decorated with plants and books all along the room as well as small photos and polaroids the couple had taken of themselves as well as photos of their friends.

“I moved!” you said dramatically using your hands to show off the room behind you in all of its glorious adornments that you and Kate had managed to set up in the past few weeks. “I’m a Las Vegas girl now” you smiled, standing up from the bed, “What if I give a house tour? But, mind you we have barely had time to decorate anything, so it’s a little bare!” you giggled, holding the phone close to your face as you walked through the house. You moved your head out of view as you entered into the living room and lowered your voice to a whisper as you spoke to your blonde girlfriend, “I’m gonna do a little house tour, alright?”

“Wait, can I be like the tour guide?” Kate asked cheerfully as she looked up from her phone and put her full attention to you.

“Mhm” you nodded, biting your lip trying to hold back a smile. Kate then got off the couch and planted a soft kiss on your lips off camera. “Ok guys I have a special guest for y’all!” you smiled, hovering your finger over the flip camera button. “Kate!” you exclaimed, turning the camera around to proudly show off your girlfriend, who did a stupid little dance causing you both to fall into a fit of laughter.

they are my favorite couple ever

stop kate is so cuteee

“Ok, ok!” you laughed walking towards the front door.

“So, when you first enter the house we have this lovely bench where you can take your shoes off” Kate spoke displaying the area, before you turned the camera around to face yourself, “Because we don’t want no one’s nasty shoes on our floor,” you turned the camera back around to show a nodding Kate who was in agreement.

“Then straight off there is our living room!” the blonde announced, showing off the plush couch that sat in the middle. “This is y/n’s favorite part” Kate pointed down at the green rug on the floor. You just rolled your eyes behind the camera because the rug was fully Kate’s choice because she said it would be perfect for the house. “But yeah, not much in here yet beside the PS4, so I can play games, and the couch,” Kate shrugged.

“And if you come this way,” Kate used her hands to direct you and the camera to follow her, “our kitchen! I know it’s all white and bland at the moment but we’re working on it” she laughed showing the kitchen island and then walking over to the fridge and opening it, “Oh!” you both let out as the fridge revealed to only hold some take-out food from the night before and a thing of pink lemonade.

“We’re working on grocery shopping” you laughed from behind the camera.

“Yeah, we’re doordash feens” Kate responded, pointing her finger at you. She then closed the fridge and brought you over to the small table you two had bought the other day. “This is our newest addition,” the blonde smiled, showing off the table that had been set to look fancy.

The tall girl kept showing off the home until getting to a room she thought that you should take over and show off to the viewers on live. “Babe, you wanna show them?” Kate’s voice was in a whisper, but it could still be heard by viewers, which caused the comments to go crazy.

DID Y’ALL HEAR THAT???

UGH I NEED WHAT THEY HAVE

“Yeah” you nodded, handing the phone over to Kate and appearing in front of the camera for the first time since the start of the live. “Kate was so kind to let me use our spare room as a little music room!” you said with a smile never leaving your face, as you opened the door and revealed the soundproofing pads on the walls and the different music equipment showering the room.

“This is where all the magic happens,” you said, running your hand across the piano, allowing random notes to be played. “Guys! This right here is my most prized possession!” your face glowed as you pulled a guitar off the wall and showed it to the camera, “It was signed by the one and only Taylor Swift! I still can’t believe it” you shook your head slightly recounting the memory of when you had met her.

“Still jealous you met her and not me” Kate said behind the camera, clearly showing her jealousy.

“Maybe, I can pull some strings for you, hm?” you cocked your head to the side resting your hands on your hips. Your eyes caught a glimpse of Kate’s blue ones from behind the camera and you found yourself wanting to look into them forever, but you knew you needed to move on with the tour. “Anywho! Let’s continue!” you laughed dragging Kate out of the room to have her follow her.

After a couple more minutes of the tour and being on live you decided it was time to go, so that you could spend time with Kate before she had to head off to practice.

You two were sitting on the couch, your legs draping over Kate’s as a tv show played quietly on the tv. “I’m so happy you’re here with me” Kate dropped her head into the crook of your neck, as her hands found their way around your waist.

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” you giggled, feeling her breath on your neck that almost tickled. She then began to place small kisses on your neck and exposed collarbone, that sent a shiver down your spine. “Kate, you have to get to practice” you groaned.

“But, I wanna stay here with you” she whined, still leaving kisses on your shoulder.

“Come on, time to go,” you got off of Kate and held your hands out to pull her off the couch. Her hands reached up to yours and you pulled her off the couch. She placed a small kiss on your lips before walking over to get her keys.

“See you late, love you” she smiled, circling the keys on her finger.

“Love you too” you smiled back before she walked out the front door to head to Aces practice.

allie’s corner.

i hope you like this!! they’re so cutie

[grandlinedreams]

|| in the same reader setting as [this]

|| warnings: lil bit of angst/self-deprecation, reader has spine, some drama for the sake of it, had Bryce's starlight power in mind w reader

Some days, you wonder why you're here. Objectively, you know why ㅡ but beyond the obvious circumstances, you can't puzzle it out.

Especially as you watch your sisters seemingly click into place. Feyre, of course, has always had a spot ㅡ as High Lady, mate to Rhysand. Nesta has come into her own as well, finding her strength with the Valkyries and Cassian. And even Elain seems more and more comfortable here.

You still aren't sure where you fit in. It's an echo of how it'd once been back home, before all of it ㅡ a careful balance to not take too much, need too much ㅡ to do what you could to help. Unremarkable in all aspects, you suppose, for being Nesta's twin.

Feyre has often likened you to the two sides of the moon ㅡ cut from the same cloth, but so very different.

And the longer that you go in living here, the more it unsettles you ㅡ until it eventually comes to a breaking point of needing to do something.

And you begin watching training sessions. The Valkyries, Nesta, Cassian and Azriel ㅡ it doesn't matter who it is, you watch ㅡ a book in your lap as an excuse. You don't know why you don't want them knowing what you're truly up to, as there's no shame to be had in wanting to defend yourself.

All the same, you don't breathe a word of it to anyone. Your own sessions are self-made, mimicry clumsy and often times uncoordinated ㅡ but you're trying, and that's enough. Illyrian warrior you are not ㅡ but at least it's something.

ㅡ

"Thank-you for coming with me today," Elain tells you as you walk beside her, pace sedate as she glances at the shops to the right, your own attention on the Sidra to the left.

"Of course," you answer, and you can't help but glance back. Several paces away, Azriel trails behind, looking for all the world relaxed ㅡ though you know he misses nothing. Though Elain had asked you to accompany her, part of you wonders if Azriel had been hoping to be alone with her ㅡ you've caught the quiet looks that he's shot her every now and then today.

Sun warming your shoulders, you find your attention back on the Sidra, the gleam of light refracting off the surface. Velaris is beautiful, and you can understand why Rhys worked so hard to keep this place a secret from Amarantha.

"Elain," you begin, "do you thinkㅡ" You cut yourself off, abruptly aware that your sister is no longer at your side ㅡ nor is Azriel behind you. In your absent mindedness, you must have kept walking when Elain hadn't ㅡ and your stomach tightens at the realization that you have no idea where you are.

Stay calm, you think, pushing down the tendrils of instinctive alarm as you try to orient yourself, though none of the buildings are even vaguely familiar. Just how far had you gone?

"Lost?" The voice that speaks from behind you is wholly unfamiliar as you whirl, eyes locking with the deep green of a fae male who approaches you.

"No," you answer coolly, pushing down how the steady rove of his gaze over you makes your skin crawl. "I'm on my way to meet with my sister, actually."

"Oh." He takes another step to you. "Allow me to escort you?"

"No. That won't be necessary," you answer. There's an edge to your tone that you can hear, razor sharp ㅡ and you move to skirt around him. "If you'll excuse meㅡ"

Fingers snap around your wrist, squeezing with enough force to hurt as you're yanked to a halt. Something stirs in your chest. "Let go of me."

"Not until you apologize," comes the rough reply. "I'm trying to be kind, and you're veing rude."

You can feel your skin bruising under his grip, the ache of your wrist ㅡ and your other hand is curling into a fist and snapping up before you truly think about it.

The punch lands against his jaw and he grunts, letting up on your wrist enough for you to wrench it free with a venomous hiss that'd make Nesta proud as warmth bubbles in your veins, licking up your spine as it buzzes beneath your skin. "Get your hands off me."

The male's eyes blaze before he's lunging for you, hand fisting into your hair to yank you back ㅡ and the world splinters into bright, dazzling light. It blazes, burns brighter than faelight with all the warmth of a summer day as you hear the male yelp ㅡ and then you're on your knees, hands aching as you press your palms to the rough stone and struggle to even your breathing.

The sharp cry of your name and the rapid approach of footsteps is the only warning you get before arms are around you, pulling you close ㅡ Elain.

"Are you okay? One minute you were beside me and then you weren't, we were looking everywhere for you and ㅡ oh, look at your handsㅡ" Her fussing is going in one ear and out the other as she coaxes you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to Madja, okay?"

You don't remember much of the trek back, lost in a mute daze that has Elain shooting Azriel a worried look and asking for him to escort you to Madja so she can go tell Feyre what happened.

You're quiet even as the healer looks over your hands, the raw skin of your knuckles and knees where you hit the ground ㅡ and still not a word leaves your lips until Feyre is calling your name, hands on your shoulders.

"Elain told me what happened, but she said there was a burst of light right before they found youㅡ"

"Me," you mumble, cutting her off. "That was me. I think." Feyre stares at you, but you're studying your hands. "It...it came from me."

"Oh," Feyre breathes, then glances at Rhysand, who's watching you.

"It's possible she's yielded her powers," he says. "We'll have to see what the extent of it is, and go from there."

It feels a little weird, being discussed as though you aren't there ㅡ and you're more than grateful when the only one left is Azriel, who watches you as you keep studying your hands.

"...the male who grabbed me," you mumble. "I punched him."

"Good." Azriel's shadows had been the ones to report where you were and what was happening ㅡ and the fury he'd felt had been interrupted by that burst of light. "Don't feel bad for defending yourself."

"That's the thing," you answer. "I don't." Your brow furrows. "I'm not...like Nesta or Feyre, or Elain." You pause. "I don't know what I am."

He knows you mean more than just today, that this has been haunting you for a while ㅡ ever since the events that'd landed you here. He can sympathize, truly ㅡ and then he's approaching to ease your hands apart from where you'd been picking at the gauze over your knuckles.

"You don't need to be anything like them," he tells you, then tenses as you study his hands ㅡ broader than yours and scarred ㅡ and then you slot your fingers between his and squeeze gently.

"I have a question," you murmur, letting your other hand rise to trace a fingertip over his knuckles, seemingly unaware of what the simple touch is doing to him. "I...I've been watching all of you train, but I'd like to actually be taught properly."

Azriel hums. "Cassianㅡ"

"No," you counter, fingers tightening around his. "I want you."

Azriel stills for several long moments where he swears thst his heart stutters, stops, then resumes before he answers. "Okay."

[risuola]

SHUSH, WE'RE IN THE LIBRARY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

cw: smut, student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), little bit of cum play, reader discretion is advised — 1,8k words

a/n: since you liked the first part so much, here’s a little nsfw sequel

» FIRST PART

When you walked into the library earlier in the day, there wasn't a single hint as to how the visit was going to end. It had been a few days since your last training session with Gojo, the one where you kissed him (and punched him in the face), and everything seemed quiet after that – he left Tokyo for a couple of days on a business trip, and you had no idea he was already back. You were quickly made aware of that, when his honeyed tone reached your ears as you walked pass him, not even noticing the headful of white hair, “not even a hello? Ayy, that’s rude,” he chuckled and before you could even think of reaction, he was already behind you. You were searching for a book, somewhere in the middle of dozens of bookshelves, when he trapped you in between old medical literature and his well-build body.

“I didn’t notice you, sensei,” you admitted quietly, suddenly hyperaware of him – the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body; everything became all to close, tickling your senses and freezing you on the spot.

“I may forgive you,” he chuckled and you felt his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you flush to his torso. Breath stuck in your throat as you noticed the hard outline of his cock pressing against your back. “So, tell me, what are you looking for at that hour?”

“I forgot about homework Shoko gave me”, you responded, trying to keep your composure. “I came here to study before I meet with her.”

“Forgetting about homework? How unruly”, Gojo lowered his head, nipping at the tip of your ear and once again, you stopped breathing. It was all new to you, he was never that brave with his flirting but he had told you before he left that he’ll catch you when he’s back. That day on the training grounds, things got pretty heated, until he noticed some students approaching, what forced you two apart. “How about I give you a lesson.”

“Sens-“

“Shush, we’re in the library,” he smiled and your vision went dark, as he covered your eyes with his blindfold. Fighting with confusion, you forced your other senses to sharpen and you quickly became extremely aware of the traces his large hands were leaving all around your body, the wet marks his lips were planting on the sensitive skin of your neck and his rock-hard statue right behind you.

Satoru acted quickly, desperate to finally have you after he's been thinking about you nonstop for the last few days. He gathered your skirt up and unbuttoned your shirt a bit to get more access to your skin, while his lips never lost contact with your neck. Grateful for the early hour and the empty library, he whispered filthy little somethings into your ear, messing with your senses as you never knew from which side he'll speak next. Your little gasps and whimpers overjoyed him, the needy roll of your hips against his hardened cock made him hold his breath and he reached down, sneaking his hand under your belly and lower to tease you. The wetness that has already soaked a patch through your panties made him grin with cocky pride.

"So needy," he purred, not wasting any more time. His long fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you bit onto your lower lip, swallowing the whimper that threatened to escape your throat as you felt the circling pressure on the most sensitive bud in your body. Feeling brave, you reached back, touching his thigh and moving up to stroke his clothed member. The size hit you, a gasp left your mouth and you realized that there's no way he could fit inside you. As if sensing your hesitation, he undid the button and zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. You gasped as your palm wraped around his girth, your mind slowly spiraling about what you've gotten yourself into, but your pussy seemed to be nothing but excited. Satoru could feel the arousal underneath his fingers, he felt your clit throbbing and your hips rolling slightly to get more friction from his hand.

"Now you're going to be a good girl, yeah?" he smirked, taking away the pleasure of his digits and swiftly turning you around. "Down," he commanded, and without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. Quickly you found the magic wand, your eyes are still covered so touch was the only sense you could only rely on. As you stroked it up and down, you felt your mouth salivating, you were curious and decided that if you cannot see it, at least you can taste it. Driven by the thought, you gave the head of his cock a few experimental licks, circling your tongue around the tip and tasting the salty pre-cum that's already collected there.

You felt his hand stroke your head, wordlessly praising you and you took him into your mouth, slowly at first, almost teasingly, as you created a mental image of what you felt under your tongue – all the veins dancing around his long shaft, the sheer size of what you were working with, the way he filled your mouth completely and you still had room to use your hand. Encouraged by his palm, you picked up the pace, licking and sucking, listening to his breath hitching in his chest above you, and when the tip hit the back of your throat and you used your teeth to graze along the length, his head fell back. Few fucks left his throat and you felt him snap his hips forward. His cock was leaking, throbbing in the warmth of your mouth and you decided to tease him a bit.

Taking him out completely, you run your tongue along the underside of his hard member and Gojo felt like it's torture as your lips sucked hard on the very tip. "Enough teasing," he breathed out, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you up again, your back turned to him. The next thing you felt was his length sinking into you without warning.

He pushed himself into you painfully slowly, stretching you incredibly well, and you muffled the moan that tried to escape your chest with your hand. Satoru bottomed out, angling his hips upward, filling you just right as his palms landed on the sides of your waist, where he also kept your skirt from rolling down. Your panties were quickly torn by him, the seams giving up under the pressure of his strength, and you couldn't help but shiver at the sudden feeling of losing your underwear. "Such a good girl," he cooed directly into your ear, before pulling out almost completely, only to push back fully. He was drunk with the sight of his length disappearing inside you, the feeling of your muscles squeezing him is overwhelming and if it weren't for the grounding iron grip on your hips, he'd be completely lost here and there.

You bit down onto the heel of your palm, quieting yourself as your mind went completely blank. All your senses were focused on him – the taste that still lingered on your tongue, the musky scent of his cologne, and the way his thick cock hammered into you, twitching and flexing from time to time, successfully driving you crazy. You saw stars in the darkness of his blindfold. The force of his hips was brutal, stretching you deliciously with each thrust, kissing every sweet spot inside you, and the way your pussy squeezed him was a reward he found intoxicating.

You gripped tightly onto the bookshelves in front of you, your knuckles turning white as you tried to stabilize yourself. "S-sen-sei~," you panted, your words half coherent as Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you from behind. His hand crawled around your neck and pressed against your mouth, silencing you. "Sshh," he whispered directly into your ear and you could hear the amusement in his tone, you knew he was smiling, "you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?"

You didn’t, but how could you help it when he was abusing your cunt so well. You hummed, gritting your teeth to shut yourself up as he fucked his way right into your soul. Gojo watched with pride as you took him whole, the sound of skin slapping echoing in between shelves and the way your ass jiggled at the impact of his body colliding with yours made him go feral. You could feel yourself crumbling under the sheer power he had over you, your knees barely kept you standing, and if it wasn't for the supporting grip he had on your hip, you would have surely fallen over, defeated by the towering body that loomed over your own.

It became too much, he felt the warmth rushing through his veins and he leaned into you, burying every breathless groan into your shoulder and you could hear how fucked out he was, you felt him throbbing inside you and the dangerous wave of your release was approaching fast. The rhythmic squeezing of your pussy brought him to the edge and he babbled the most obscene praises against your neck. You felt like the temperature in the library raised, burning your skin with lust and satisfaction as you came undone, creaming around his cock and he followed closely, unable to resist the delightful twitches of your walls. Spilling his load, he filled you completely and you felt his thrusts becoming sloppier, uneven as he ride out the blissful haze and he laughed softly, his head buried in the skin between your neck and shoulder. He was overjoyed, ecstatic, he sounded almost high as he pulled out and turned you over so he could scoop you into his chest before you collapse.

Your knees were weak and you clung to him for dear life, focusing on the drumming of his heart beneath your ear. The library fell quiet, only your mingled breaths bounced off the bookshelves, quickly being absorbed by the countless pages of old literature.

You felt him pull away, smoothing your clothes back into place before zipping up his pants.

"You've been such a good girl," he praised, catching the drop running down your thigh with his fingers and then lifting it to your face. "Open," Satoru commanded and you complied, taking the digits into your mouth and licking them clean. "My favorite student."

When he finally removed the blindfold from your head, you felt the cold air hitting the damp skin underneath your eyes, Satoru smiled gently, wipes away the teary residue with his thumb and leaning in to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

“I can’t wait until you graduate,” he muttered against your mouth.

“Gradua… fuck, I need to go see Shoko.”

“First you need to clean up. We’ve made quite a mess.”

“But-“

“I’ll explain you.”

“If you say so, sensei.”

[grims-sunshine]

🤍 I've got the Magic Touch 🤍

Summary: Gale catches you reading an erotic novel. While you read it, he takes your pleasure into his own hands.

Pairing: Gale x Tav

Word Count: 1.9k

Content: Established relationship; takes place after the events of the game; f!reader; breast groping; some fingering

Content for the novel: Kinda generic, cliché smut; mostly making out and a blowjob

Note: This is a reupload because the fic wasn't showing in the tags. Usually I dislike doing this, but to be totally honest I put a ton of effort into this fic and was pretty sad when literally only one person saw it because Tumblr is a bully. So here's to hoping it works out this time.

Felix pushed Sylvanna up to the wall, finally taking what he'd been craving for so long and giving her what she'd been waiting for ever since that one night.

"I just can't control myself around you," he whispered, the words hardly more than a deep growl from within his chest.

"Then don't," Sylvanna breathed in response, offering herself to him fully.

"What are you reading there, love?"

Gale's voice abruptly pulls you out of the book you've been reading. Startled by his sudden presence, you snap it shut, praying to whichever god will listen that he didn't take a peek at the pages before making himself known.

You're usually comfortable around Gale, but something about him finding out that you're reading filthy erotica in the middle of the day fills you with embarrassment.

"Oh, it's nothing special. Just some old tome I've picked up from the bookstore earlier," you lie, cursing yourself for the way your voice cracks. You're not a great liar, and Gale knows you too well to be easily fooled.

"Do you need anything?" You add the question, hoping it'll be enough to distract him.

When you lean back head far to look at Gale, looming over you, staring back with an amused expression.

"Why? Can't a wizard just walk into his own reading room anymore?" Gale asks with a chuckle, holding up his hands. He walks around the small couch in the middle of the room to sit next to you. You notice him prying at the book, so you promptly cover it with your hands.

"No, no, I'm just asking," you say, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Gale's cheek. "It's your home, of course you're always welcome here."

"Well, you've been spending a lot of time in here. I'd almost consider it your personal space by now," Gale says with a fond smile.

He's not wrong. This has quickly become one of your favorite spots in the whole tower, ever since you moved back to Waterdeep with him. It's comfortable, cozy, and perfect for rainy and cold days when you don't want to sit outside while reading.

Not to mention, the couch is big enough to fit the both of you on it. This has led to many evenings spent in here, doing things far more interesting than reading books with each other, which certainly adds to this being your favourite space.

"So, what's your book about?" Gale continues. "You seemed rather… Engrossed by it just now." You should've known he wouldn't just drop it. On the surface it seems like an innocent enough question. You often tell each other about your latest reads, discussing what's happening at great length. But this time, there's something else hidden under the innocent act, that you can't quite pin down. Maybe it's the slight smile tugging at his lips, or the glint in his eyes when he looks at you.

You shrug. "Just some cheesy, run of the mill romance. You'd probably find it rather boring." You try to sound as casual as you can, but even you can tell it's failing terribly. Gale isn't stupid, after all.

"Romance, huh?" Gale nods, giving you a look that says he doesn't believe a word you're saying. "So, which part of the romance has you squirming and pressing your thighs together?" He gives you a smirk.

You feel the heat rush to your face in an instant and Gale laughs upon seeing your expression, pulling you into a hug. "I'm not judging you. I was genuinely curious about what you're reading. It really did seem like you were enjoying yourself, so I wanted to know what got you so… worked up." He says it with a sincerity that makes your embarrassment melt away.

You uncover the book that you'd been hiding under your hands up until now and hand it to Gale.

The cover alone would probably be enough for anyone to tell what the book's contents are: A woman in a silky robe that barely covers her body, leaning against a faceless male figure, posessively holding her in his arms.

Gale inspects the cover, then turns his attention back to you. "What's it about?"

You sigh. "Well, it's this woman… Who becomes the apprentice of a powerful wizard… And she lives in his tower and they… You know."

You feel another rush of embarrassment as Gale nods, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."

You sigh, feeling the way your cheeks flush. "I'm not just reading it because you're a wizard and I'm fantasizing about you or anything like that. It's just… Well, the smut scenes are pretty good," you admit, averting your eyes.

"Oh, I wasn't thinking that. Although I certainly wouldn't mind you fantasizing about me," Gale assures you, chuckling a little. "But I am intrigued now. Is it really that good?"

You nod. "Yes, it's pretty good. You can read it once I'm done, if you'd like." This isn't Gale's usual taste in books, but he seems interested enough.

Gale thinks for a moment, shakes his head. "Actually, I've got a much better idea." He leans against the back of the couch, half lying down, and pats the space between his legs. "Come here," he says. He looks up at you with a warm smile.

You can guess what he has in mind already. This is how you usually sit when you're reading a book together. It seems like a good enough solution -- You can continue reading, and perhaps Gale's curiosity will be sated as well.

You lie down with your back against Gale's chest. He wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your temple before comfortably resting his head on your shoulder.

You're nestled in Gale's embrace, surrounded by his warmth. It's your favourite feeling in the world, being comfortable and safe in his arms.

He hands your book back to you and you open it where you last left off, beginning to read once again.

Felix didn't waste any time giving in to his desires. He pulled Sylvanna into a passionate kiss, their bodies practically melting together.

Sylvanna felt how hard he was, pressing up against her. She cupped him with her hand and began to slowly stroke him, earning her a low moan from him.

Your attention drifts from the words on the page to the sensation of Gale's lips, soft against your neck, followed by the subtle scratching of his beard over your skin as he leaves a trail of kisses there. Your breath hitches and you let your head sink back to grant him more access. To your surprise, Gale stops almost immediately and you feel him smile against your skin, almost smug.

"Keep reading," he says, his voice a little lower than usual, before continuing his trail of kisses. You can sense a hint of amusement in his voice -- He's enjoying this.

So this was his plan. You decide to go along with it, turning your focus back on the book once more.

Sylvanna dropped to her knees, fumbling to get Felix's pants off him. She was desperate to taste him, to be the one taking the lead for once.

S he looked up at Felix as she began slowly stroking his cock before licking a stripe up the shaft, teasing the tip with her tongue.

Once again, your reading is interrupted when you feel Gale's hands travel across your body, grasping at your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. You gasp as his touch goes bolder, hiking up your shirt just enough to be able to reach underneath it. His hands find your breasts once again, massaging them and gently tugging at your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

It makes it all the harder to focus on your book, when all you want is to sink into Gale, close your eyes and let his touch take you to oblivion.

His movements stop again, shattering you bliss. "Try to stay focused, love," Gale whispers, followed by a kiss pressed right underneath your ear. It takes you a moment to catch on, to clear the fog that's been taking over your brain at his touch. The book.

You try to clear your mind and take in the words, but you're far too distracted by Gale to fully make sense of what you're reading. It's more like your eyes absentmindedly skim the pages while your thoughts keep slipping away.

When she finally put him in her mouth, Felix groaned deeply.

As she started sucking him off, he buried his hand in her hair, gently leading her movements.

He cursed under his breath. "Fuck, you're perfect. I should've given in to this desire sooner."

Gale's hands wander down your body, gently pulling your legs apart and stroking your thighs. As one of his hands pushes past the hem of your pants and underwear you feel a rush of excitement. His fingers slowly begin parting your folds and you can't help but let out a small moan.

You can only imagine how wet you must be already from everything. It only gets worse when he begins rubbing slow, deliberate circles around your clit. You let out a small whimper and your hips involuntarily buckle up against him, causing Gale to use his free hand to gently push you back down, holding you in place.

"You haven't turned that page in a while," Gale notes, sounding amused. He doesn't stop what he's doing this time and you thank the gods for it. You're not sure what you'd do if he stopped touching you right now.

You only hum in response, hardly making sense of his words.

One of his fingers finds your hole, pushing a single digit inside and you let out another whimper.

"Well? Won't you keep going?" Gale asks again, although by the tone of his voice, you're sure he knows the answer already.

"Can't… Focus," you finally manage to say, and Gale hums in response. You feel the vibrations in his chest and somehow it only makes you even dizzier.

"I suppose you've gotten far enough," Gale says, grazing your flushed cheek with his lips.

He uses the hand that had been holding you in place to grab the book and set it aside.

"Well, this allows me to move a little better, so I don't mind either." He smirks and pulls you a little closer against him.

You can feel his own arousal pressing against your back, but your attention quickly gets pulled away when Gale fully pushes his first finger inside of you, slowly pumping it in and out. Your hips push against him once again, but he doesn't press them down this time, allowing you to fully embrace the pleasure.

Gale adds a second finger, picking up the pace along with it.

Your head rolls back against his shoulder, somehow finding Gale's lips for a passionate kiss. You squirm in his arms, whimpers growing louder as Gale manages to hit the spot that sends you over the edge.

He continues to pump his fingers while you shake and cry out in pleasure, allowing you to ride out your orgasm.

Your body finally relaxes and you sink back against Gale, feeling lightheaded. Gale holds you close, pressing soft kisses against your temple as he lets you catch your breath.

"That was incredible," you manage to say after a while, finally able to form words again.

"Agreed," Gale says with a smile. "Although I hope you're up for a second round. There's something I could use a little help with."

[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”