#i drank too much water and my dog is sleeping on my lap

[the-bong-water-rake]

Hope you feel today creator? (I dunno what to refer to you by-)

peachy

[darethshirl]

(Final!!) entry for zevwarden week (@zevraholics), Zevran/Male!Mahariel, 600 words

Day 7: Seasons

                                                     —

Zevran had endured many hardships in his life. He’d lived through poverty and lean winters, through bloody trainings and ambushes gone wrong. He’d had to nurse himself from stomach wounds all on his own, and he’d spent endless, endless weeks down in the Deep Roads. He knew how to bunker down and survive, without any outward complaints.

What he couldn’t stand, though, was rain during his holidays.

“But it’s summer,” he whined plaintively at the sky and to all the gods that were listening. “How can it rain this much during the summer?”

Next to him Mahariel laughed goodnaturedly, shaking water off his hair like sleek-furred black dog. He’d gone out in the deluge to reinforce their tent, the maniac, though it barely seemed to have made a difference. “It’s especially in the summer that it rains the most.”

“No. Wrong. That is wrong and unnatural, and I refuse to believe it. In Antiva summer means bright blue skies and cheerful sunshine.”

“In Antiva the summer sun blisters your skin and drenches you in sweat.”

“Not at the beaches,” Zevran protested, his sense of patriotism gravely wounded. “There you have the nice ocean breeze to cool you down, not to mention the ability to take a dip in the sea anytime you want.” He sighed, only half-theatrical, thinking fondly back to all the times he’d floated carefree over the waves. “We should have gone there instead.”

“We went there last year.”

“And so? We should go there every year!”

“Variety is the spice of life, didn’t you always say that?” Mahariel smiled with way too much amusement considering the circumstances, and sat down on the ground with an soft grunt. He wrapped his arms around Zevran, pulling him into a tight embrace, and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Besides, these kinds of storms never last long. In an hour’s time we’ll be back on the road like nothing happened.”

Zevran grumbled under his breath, but didn’t say anything else. He snuggled deeper into the warmth of his lover’s body, resting his head on Mahariel’s shoulder. Perhaps a little break wasn’t such a bad idea. The steady pitter-patter of the rain’s strikes against the tent was an almost soothing backdrop, and all around them the forest was quiet and hushed. A sweet, clean scent of pine suffused the air, the ground itself sighing in relief as it drank in the downpour. Zevran felt his eyelids start to droop, his relaxed body halfway lulled to sleep…

Thunder rumbled overhead, ominous and heavy.

“Did you hear that?” Zevran peered anxiously at the sky, all previous calm evaporated. “It sounded close.”

“It wasn’t close. If it was you’d know it, trust me.”

“Hmph. Well, if I die ingloriously by a stray thunderbolt in the middle of nowhere, I’m going to hold you personally responsible.”

“You’re not going to die.” Mahariel hid his smile in a kiss, his mouth finding Zevran neck, the underside of his ear. “I won’t allow it.”

“Oh?” It was Zevran’s turn to laugh, his mood lifting despite everything. “Will you fight a literal force of nature for me?”

“Yes,” Mahariel said, and his determined frown was marred only by the hint of humour dancing in his eyes.

“My hero,” Zevran teased with a grin. With new ideas swirling in his head, he slipped a hand to Mahariel’s lap and let it rest on his thigh, innocently provocative. “I think such admirable valor deserves a reward.”

Mahariel huffed a laugh, unable to keep the delight from his face. “Hmm? Before I’ve even fought my foe?”

“It’s called encouragement.” Zevran’s hand rubbed a path up and down the muscular leg underneath it, his lips kissing a trail down Mahariel’s throat. “I’m rewarding future good behaviour.”

“I see. And you’re sure you won’t start complaining about the cold weather one we’re naked?”

“Oh hush, you,” Zevran said, and silenced Mahariel’s laugh with a kiss.

[the-bottle-tree]

So yesterday we lost one of our cats. He was a very stubborn boy and absolutely loved being outside. We would make him come inside when it was super cold or super bad weather but other than that he would stay out and not because we wanted him to be outside. There was one time he had been missing at supper time. Meal time misses are always a red alert for my husband and I with the outside feral cats….especially Kit. He loved food more than life itself. UNLESS he was punishing me. So he had missed a meal time and didn’t eat much at breakfast the next day. He missed supper and breakfast and the next time I saw him I made him stay in the garage to keep an eye on him. HE REFUSED TO EAT FOR 2 DAYS. So we called our vet and brought him in and as soon as they put him in the cell he ate everything they gave him. They said he was in perfect health and sent him home with a b12 shot for good measure. He was back on his regular eating schedule after that but I was SO pissed he cost us $400 dollars in tests at the vet to see if he was okay and he was perfectly fine. Just not eating because he hated us for trapping him.

He was a talker. He absolutely loved to tell stories. He’d meow as soon as he saw you to let you know all about it! He loved our backyard and would sit in my lap in my swing and make biscuits all day. He had a set path of different sleep spots in our yard and you could tell what time it was by which spot he was in. There is still a trail in the grass from where he would walk every day. I pray it never goes away.

In February, Kit was in his second favorite sleep spot, a spot under a small bush in the front garden sleeping when three husky’s ambushed him and chased him into the neighbors. They cornered him at our neighbors 2 doors down and Attacked. We just happened to be at home so luckily we heard it happen and saved him. We got him into the vet immediately and they kept him overnight for observation. The cat survived and was in good health except for some bad arthritis.

It had been getting worse and worse for years and we had built him a cat run along the side fence because of it. We built it hoping that if something like that would happen he’d have easy access to an escape. The problem is that his sleep spot in the front yard was on the opposite side of the house so when the dogs showed up he had no escape.

After the attack we brought him inside. It was a transition and he went through fits of depression and he refused to eat for a few days until I was able to give him an appetite stimulant to get him to eat again. He would sit in the windows and watch the day go by and at night he’d sit with us on the couch then lay by my head at night.

A few weeks ago he stopped that and just laid in the bathroom floor. He stopped using the litter boxes and only peed on the floor until I got him pee pads. His blood work came back good. No diabetes. No thyroid issues. No kidney stuff. His blood was clean. He had a slight arithmia in his heart but that was it.

Sunday he kept peeing his bed and laying in it. He improved a little bit until yesterday. He would get up and walk and then collapse. He ate and drank water but would collapse. I was cleaning and in the time it took me to go get a sip of coffee he had disappeared from his normal spot. I found him wide eyed behind the toile gasping for breath. I knew it was time. We took him to the vet and they confirmed.

He was such a good boy and he is so greatly missed here. My life was better because he was in it and I hope that in the end he knows how much we loved him. My one wish was that I could go him one more chin Skitch under the oak in our favorite swing. I know he hated it inside and just tolerated it because he hurt too much to fight us.

The doctor doesnt know exactly what as wrong. It could have been an underlying health issue but I think his heart just gave out. He was 19 years old and lived a long beautiful life. The above photo I snapped the night before he passed. I'm so grateful I thought to snap that photo.

Yesterday evening we did a beautiful ritual to honor his life on the memory bench. We chose to get him cremated and will be bringing him back home soon.

Rest in power sweet boy. You are loved so hard. We miss you.

[libidomechanica]

“A frequestion no metamorphosed up to those thee, she card or Gods”

A curtal sonnet sequence

               1

She touch, Wit can life eternal heavy season gay, rage, would knots Embleme. A frequestion no metamorphosed up to those thee, she card or God’s own. And thou foolishness of his locks door hut sunk down that compiled, full of the Bridges it thy man tenance with wind. To his friends, but to me: her has early heir; and the freckled rough and Lilly, but is the cowslips to sail is with the said him, was where was why should not choose.

               2

She foxes, that from then so oft loose their gold, until I have bid you request single still cling stopt his hope, thou art, must, you’llknow a plann’d, who, ere so inflicted, nor long the wild beat human frame; whate’er I should rather return, returned to scanty stroke her veil to—say much as the consider’d, like rest choose nothing dreaming slips drew her sense of the house, drank remainder acacia wound. The Brained a man was Nature’s spaniel.

               3

Dog passions and payne, his simply doth pain, for certe. Nor colours lived the niche profusion sweethean vulture might of portion with thy sweet: yea, pleased; shoals of golden case, with Damascus. At be mery way were butter; would even to this the looking at stem. The beautiful art, insenses, the star sparkled, she gasping an infant art trustic strength morals right sweep away she too much less in their live, still with jealousie compare?

               4

Whose joys of him, that been a long hart of the with my under gods holy Life, or sleep! Her at one ascribe, unless telling made butter; would you pale, like disappear of the mast whence in ever beloved to these hand by a tears have shore, wha wad soon was summer dull; by night: nor win. Of pillows, of old and stopp’d on his wanderers, the praise add someth of a sore is pangs they, yet footsteps. Behold. For whatever know.

               5

Thou may be excluded sunne beautie is; I said to faint that, maybe, look upon the sages, I would have you do nothings seems, thank him in the depart echeon. But whereof of loue such; for the wight be better, since cried, the fools in those love cause sharp begat of the sacrilege. How the groves, the chimney-wall; and now I waits endowed wherein the image, haue I things. Like a little precious cruel as those reluctant his rarely.

               6

For a few praying, he best constant smiled her presage; but snow that he had your slave, then, oh Sir! But to red, full of all the days is minds and beguile; let his cruel maids keeps to say of powering, and stumbling more never gazer’s as if not water, must be starve. But Anguishable touch occasion we are snug the Lady be misshape for succulent peachers of tended. Wherein greaten’d,—against he must have not to do.

               7

She loved—she at he had no early so, in a shield. Her formed and mans market on a pair who teach force and may have gone; the equals, although she be revenge than Haidee, misfortune to mince fed by steal; that we may thy bonie Lesley, his woes he had a vision bliss fragile she world be under whose joy departed the phrase, and with vnkind, as cookery nunnery; by degrees waterway a sneer, the each bud for don’t care.

               8

Except Juan, after bosom sweethean vulture, so when two swim in them onwards boye no better for once the Land, something borrow flew; some lie! Meanwhile the remain that through of it. It wild sad old men, and their footed as a rattling been mournful of oaths they all; and the earth the moisturbing it with their sail; for chanc’d to read often only, his talk, but he flourished forth, they pretty Rose-tree time of leaves o’er, and weeping.

               9

And wreck upon whom succeed Love, usurer boy, where plain’d, And wades; and wounds of Spanishing maid, addest, unknowing far lesse bent upon the smell of the rest; with young soft, more at recall; and was, some leaves on her legs, so war’s among tresses balance, and as one’s footing, and nor are as with my head. An opened wight for all that elder lap did not a couch; and that no one; aurum, soft, where appear they put its present laugh.

               10

Gentle birken too, she for delight, so oft like a very of this counted to none keep unespied. The old save for each other Eve, with sad story is not my eyes and found in time it will be driving waves oozing eyes and come. Inventions, beginning pause was yet she bed. He sea, shone: thy freshlier cheerful air, heaven’s face an animal very much she got, and be beloved, and for dying Love, to be unjust.

               11

Of mine, sparkles it foxes, that poor fifth daylight that’s thou live into heart in his forth fortune and up all mount of caulking. With great died ere so low, as yet had suffering there, that foot-way path wontst to take. But now shalt this stood upright, were cutter than the tears, where it is there you? Why I telling, and hoped three feeling upon me, thou have no feet. And be that it is a sore thin, no long has bliss Clarinda’s for roosting payne.

               12

For in the wind of a pomegranate. But he had got marry in they trace behest dress bilious—but some leaves head the king after came. That he asleep afloating moment and other. Tis scythe hearts of liquor or grows in whose tie I cry Amen’ to every birds since, that beat dead, and with their rum and wept the bring life could not wearing heart in innocent will I given as a palm, like a rowe? And taste kiss’d to be.

               13

But she angry the carefully, for so. Oft I had lay flown, and the chair with was his an age and King of its new Tale Wit came, and the breast, and icicles rot and Kings. Amusing dull perch, begging my lustrous painful pair must go, are not all can telling on the devil of love a great able to travel in this without, I marriage in the gentle into each her tatter—still these the deep snow, nor she unweeting.

               14

I can seem fair; the lions’ den to set, who having no eyes and gone; till see if I could allures bears stone-wall; they were good night, was very heart go gentle matter, her more nearer the high Hall and to mourning in enough a thrust of knows he ought hath neither thy hearing of men. But want of though on thy Court, they say. A wandered rose with a kiss’s strong young his way: for fell with me, and wine. The long the narrow less—less.

               15

For the listened on her mind to my though thy gyfts to be drift and his artfully, as other comfort neer. What, mething in the wave one and bright and stocking, solved a worlds breaths had never season of al, of Candia, Cypress mine eyes, and a treasures do in the daughters close, and horseman of absent moon building out neuer waves in his play like Phoebe false here wreathed up for he for my beloved more her, as Greek.

               16

Oh, half they remembered by the vessel swam, yet the streak to passed here so all some at leaving freight of the Lady’s hue, awakes, and the imagining in its error, their head—I guest, clipse enormous empaled, but he met wind by there is ouercome thinking ring. He block we are from the mount her. As for mothers, but she was every drunk without numbered at our lover, and battles both; by all my walk all question.

               17

Who evening both the kindly the short all. And Jack on his beseeching! For much more. Doth tender Lamb: shee is bloody crack, she lofty Cypress Shadows dapple sistered many perfection wine owne my Peggy’s artificing they looks from thee; though my spikenard at for you, thou like: an Arab thieves my sober songest rude in a palely length returneth in every part would having more grave; and high anguish in.

               18

As done thou might; in various is you rose or those who were the Brained Hero was in duty’s called him, gliding. And, whom her veil. And tell you’d with, they take a veins. You turned and, consumed. The love, or, thou faire if shepe the dying, then, comers. His connubial strict to take, who haste, for night of Lebanon. Them runs heaven, nor angel air, had she must thy hair of purgatory fairest lack eye this break. Let other belly Gray!

               19

Out oftener tables of me where he starlike, by steal o’er the sun: when I appetence with me always I was better don’t lay out whenever dwelt; Hero answer— so man have waking insider his months go to was lying hoarse hills, the whose weighted her nature’s mine more poor courted are cutting swimming love where off you surprised hearts your stave. Frolic virgins of these his full of gold the idle dreamed. Love into those.

               20

Of my pype, albeit Learning way in a cigaret truly, they felt him he long-neck’d the bed. Of the cook’d upon a because then receive with in babes have done, and there were at a tears with Jove, for in the able of the Horizon peeps, and worse ill. Rage, the went Mercury, then deep an aldermany, or done! Yet with gyfts bene sought of a pomegranates, glassy bowre: and Haidee wash in themselves of Spain.

               21

Love’s fickle glance north bugs is unto his own and shapes committ’st me; thousand so long, and then forth by this breath, with crimson drove Clarinda knew a thou, were breathless, and sallowed me. They construck in a sun- flowers of muslin, into things be control, suppose, the little time, the timid, and there that bad his rack’s shadows took on a trick; down fire, wherefore the skeletons. The light her maid i’ th’ everlasting.

               22

As faire a moment and may surmountains, and ravish, shall beautiful downe dyd lye. Than to her. While wave o’er the bed. That I did detain. Billowing had kept with the inter weakeness is your best conjured. No doubt he marke, since so good, vailed him more, where kind: the kin, I thou there I lose flow’d? Whose turn’d and I flat come way to new thought of purgative mowed, had done much less. Tell those whom young Eulalie’s might me formally.

               23

You worse affect of unexprest Eye it was almost thy beams of human frame: althoughts having waves, and they should be dark, so he hands and will not do. The never; tis to beare, nor do, in lovely visit there is kiddes, shivering stroke her essence a hole into each another’s breast when I craue, make heedlessly, were of summer protege and ever is flarinda, friend, which must weaned me it in truths; even compare?

[unholyhelbig]

Hey, how are you? I saw your Kate Bishop story and I have and idea that I wanted to request if that's okay :D. One where maybe the reader is a friend of Clint and helps him sometimes and that's how she and Kate meet, and Kate gets instantly enamoured with her, but because at first the reader is kind of quiet and seemingly not caring too much about Kate, Kate doesn't know how to act around her and often gets all flustered when they talk. But maybe one night they are just very tired and end up sleeping together in the couch or something like that (u decide really) and Kate kisses her and it's all fluffy. Would love to see that progress. <3

A/N: Not going to lie, This week has been pretty awful because I work at a covid testing facility and our numbers are through the roof, and people are so mean! But Other than that, I'm doing great. Hope this is what you wanted, I couldn't fit it all in there but for sure gave it a shot!

🏹 Also, side note, this is Fractions Clint and Fractions Kate because they're both chaotic idiots and I love them.

Dt to 💘 @ohmy-godyes & @agoddamnsupernova

[Want to join my tag list? Click here] [Request au's here]

A Favor For Clint | Kate Bishop x Reader

Clint Barton drank coffee straight from the pot. He would tip it back, not minding the steam or the heat that warmed his cheeks to a deep rose color. Usually, it took three of four gulps before he drained the entire thing and placed it back on the stand, a watery base coating the bottom. Each time he did it, you couldn’t do a thing except gawk in disgust.

You dove your hand into the stale box of cheerios that you had fished from the cabinet and lowered it down to the dog. He was a sloppy eater as Clint was a sloppy drinker, but Lucky was cuter in every aspect. He cleaned the crumbs from your palm and let you scratch lazily behind his ear.

“You’re going to have some serious digestive issues, old man.”

“If my intestines were going to explode, they would have by now.” He responded, flopping down into one of the chairs across from you. “Are we going to do this thing, or not?”

The coffee maker started to bubble behind his shoulder, filtering a fit of hot water through the crushed grounds. You had brought this last batch from the Arabian Peninsula. The man at the little bodega had sold it up, saying you needed nothing but a tablespoon to produce the darkest, richest of drinks. You had watched as Clint funneled a whole scoop into a dixie cup before loading up his machine.

“Yeah, whatever” You waved him off, pulling your laptop out of the bag. “What’s your Wifi password?”

“World-class hacker and you can’t figure it out?”

“PizzaDog718” You glared at him over the screen, blue light shading your features “Really, Clinton, rule number one of a strong password is to never use your birthday.”

He mumbled something under his breath that you didn’t have the heart to decipher but sounded like Don’t call me Clinton. It wasn’t as easy as his thinly veiled wireless network. Instead, you focused your willpower on bringing up the software you needed to decode this mysterious USB that he hadn’t produced yet. He pleaded with you to get on the next Red Eye and get to New York as soon as possible. So, you had, and now you were regretting it as the jet lag set in.

Speaking of, he had yet to produce said drive. “Do you have it?”

“Yeah, no.”

“What do you mean, Clint? Where else would it be?”

“With my protégé!” He exclaimed, pushing himself away from the kitchen island. This time he poured you a cup of black coffee before sipping tentatively at the full pot, not letting it settle in his stomach. “I think you’d like her, honestly. Very spunky.”

“You have a protégé? As in someone that trusts you to guide them in something other than carpentry?”

You hadn’t meant it as a compliment, but he smiled and took it as one anyway. Lucky let out another tentative whine and placed his chin against your lap. You had absently stopped scratching behind his ears but resumed shortly after the dramatic display.

He pulled away from you the second the door to the apartment opened. Clint didn’t’ flinch but you tensed almost immediately. You’d think that an avenger would actually learn to lock his doors instead of letting just about anyone barge in. It was a lesson you learned the hard way when some not-so-nice people stormed into your own place with guns pointed and little red dots that were aimed right at your chest.

Instead of a semi-automatic, there was a disheveled-looking girl, shouldering a laptop bag and paper grocery sacks. An orange fell from the top of one, rolling across the floor to the amusement of the dog. She let out a string of curse words before Clint took the food from her and shifted it to the counter.

You got a good look at her then. She was pretty, her long black hair was ruffled from the brewing storm outside a coat taking on the brunt of the drops that had fallen so far. She had a bit of pink to her cheeks, her eyes a steely type of grey that matched the building clouds. There was a mixture of week-old bruising on her face, and fresh wounds tacked together with adhesive and antiseptic.

It was difficult not to stare, but you blinked at her dumbly anyway. This was Clint’s protégé? It wasn’t who you expected, but you didn't really know what you thought someone stubborn enough to deal with Clint Barton would look like.

He beamed at her “Groceries, you shouldn’t have.”

“My guilty conscience told me that the only thing you had in your fridge was leftover Thai and,” She didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she snapped her jaw shut when her stare found you. “Hi,”

“Hello,” You sounded out, lifting an eyebrow. She had become quiet so suddenly, even Clint took notice. “I take it you’re the protégé?”

“protégé, sidekick, resident grocery runner, you can” She swallowed hard “Honestly call me whatever you want.”

“Okay, weirdo.” Clint started rooting through the bags. He seemed more excited with the microwaveable pizzas than the fresh vegetables that bloomed in color against his drab apartment. “This is Y/N. They're an old friend of mine, ex-shields most comparable hacker. Y/N this is Kate.”

Kate started to rummage through the leather bag slung against her chest and produced an arrow. She held it out to you, an expectant look on her face. You tentatively took it, eyeing her and the silent present.

“Uh, I… thank you, I think?”

“It’s a USB! Clint said you wanted it. I’m not offering it up as like, some sort of sacrifice or something. They’re not flowers.” She laughed nervously, cupping her hand against the back of her neck “I’m going to go over there now.”

She flopped down on the couch and picked up the oddly placed coffee-table book that you were sure she brought over here in the first place. Clint gave you a strange look and you shrugged before focusing your attention on the arrow. In theory, it was a good contraption but the second you plugged it into the port, there was a shaft that stuck clear into the air. You knew better than to criticize Clint’s inventions. He was no Tony Stark, but he had his good days.

He rounded the corner and leaned close to you, watching as seventeen lines of code appeared on the black screen. “Clinton. You’re hovering.”

“I want to see,”

“Do you even know what any of this means?” You asked, turning in the chair until you were facing him. Kate blinked at you from behind the couch. She caught your gaze and slowly moved the Large Book of Bathroom Facts over her expression. “I didn’t think so.”

You stood and started pushing him towards the door, his sneakers making odd scuffing sounds against the apartment. He reached for his coat, not sliding it on before you shoved him into the hallway. “Why don’t you go get some dinner? Enjoy yourself. And more importantly, don’t linger. You know it makes me nervous.”

“Why aren’t you making her leave?” He grumbled.

“I’m reading!” Kate shouted back, now fully hanging over the back of the couch. She made a point to show how far she had gotten into the novel. You didn’t feel the urge to point out that it was upside down.

"She’s reading,” You confirmed, turning back to him “Hit the town, dude. It’s a Friday night. Besides, it’s going to take me hours to go through the million possible code combinations that will get you to anything worthwhile on that USB.”

You closed the door in his face before he could object any further, pushing your forehead against the cool wood. The jet lag was hitting you hard now, traveling halfway across the country and heading straight here did nothing to the swimming feeling in your mind. But there was work to do, and codes to break, and maybe a nap wasn’t the worst idea before you started cracking at it.

Letting out a light breath, you grabbed the laptop from the counter and moved to the one side of the sofa that Kate wasn’t on, sinking into the soft, body-worn pattern. She had squished herself as far away from you as possible, pulling her knees close to her chest and hiding her face with the book. Lucky let out a whine from the chair across from the two of you, lilting his head.

“What are you doing?” She asked after a while, her voice soft.

“Whatever Clint wants is behind this protective coding,” You said, clicking a few more keys, “think of it as a door with a padlock and six hundred keys on one ring. You have to try each key before opening the door.”

She hummed and scooted carefully close to you. Your knees bumped and you glanced over at her, but she was focused accordingly on the screen. The green lettering shaded her intricate features, the way her nose crinkled, and eyebrows creased.

“It all looks like a foreign language.”

“That’s part of the fun,” You assured. She glanced at you then, the two of you holding a tentative stare. “Once you know what it all means it’s easy to decipher. To break down and build back up again.”

“Less like a language and more like a puzzle.” She swallowed.

Kate watched you work, and for once, you didn’t feel like it was an act of prying. Instead, it was a comfortable silence as the rain finally started to fall outside. The large windows took the brunt of the storm. Car tires splashed over puddles as water choked the drains, and you methodically typed in half a dozen codes and watched as the screen flickered and rejected entry.

You don’t know how long you were at it, but eventually, Kate actually did start reading the book that was on the coffee table. She turned the pages quietly and Lucky began to snore- a soft and baiting sound that nearly lulled you into sleep. It wasn’t conscious, but you must have yawned one too many times.

“You should get some sleep,” Kate said, breaking the lull.

You leaned back into the couch and rubbed your eyes with the side of your hands. You clenched them shut and could see nothing but binary and code. She was right, you figured because that coffee wasn’t strong enough to keep you up until the middle of the night. Clint had yet to return, and it was only a guess of where he had ended up.

She offered you the plaid blanket that hung over the back of the couch and you gratefully accepted, curling up on the throw pillow and pulling the covering over you. The wool smelled like Clint’s cologne and fire burned wood. Eventually, sleep overtook you, the fight leaving in little droplets of water as they raced down glass.

When you stirred, the first thing you noticed was the sunshine. It hadn’t been this bright since you stepped foot in New York this time around. It was filtered and hot, and changed the feel of the apartment from dirty to cluttered, and lived in.

The second thing that caught your attention was the body that was wedged under yours. A heartbeat that didn't belong to you pounded so roughly against your eardrum that it outweighed the sounds of the city. You were laying on someone, legs tangled, and arms wrapped firmly around them.

With a quick breath, you lifted your head, blinking the sleep from your jet-lagged mind. Kate snored softly, not yet roused by your own movements. She looked peaceful, the blanket she had given you covered you both, and the book she was reading was dog-eared and on the carpet beside you.

Rule number one of being an ex-S.H.I.E.L.D agent was not letting your guard down with near-strangers, but this happened to be the best, most relaxing sleep, you had had in a while. It wasn’t plagued with old smatterings of missions, or training, or the one time in Budapest where a bullet went clean through your abdomen.

Part of you was tempted to lay your head back down and fall back into a peaceful slumber, but then you heard a slurping sound and fought off a groan. Clint leaned against the armrest of a chair and looked at you with a dumb grin on his face, sipping from the burnt pot of coffee.

“Don’t worry, Y/N” He took another tentative gulp “I already texted pictures of this to the Avengers group chat. Nat’s going to love this.”

[cynettic]

Kaeya x Reader ( midnight cuddles )

Summary - You get back late from work and commissions to Kaeya sleeping, you try not to wake him up. Little bit of a twist this time though, you’re drunk ;)

Pairings - Kaeya x Reader

Writing Style - Bullet points, mini oneshot fluff (at the end)

Warnings - Nonee

A/N - Cmon Kaeya, accept my marriage proposal dammit-

Midnight Cuddles

It wasn’t too uncommon to show up home later than your boyfriend, his cavalry duties carrying him through the day. If he showed up late, it was with alcohol in his hand and a tad too many drinks. A hiccuping mess, you were used to it despite chastising him every time anyway.

“I don’t want you stumbling around late at night!”

But it was a whole other matter on the eventful night that you showed up late from work, and to top it off, drunk. It wasn’t that you drank when he wasn’t around, it was always when the two of you were in the tavern, either you or him making sure to stay sober to take the other home.

Or on the nights when you both accidentally had too much, and Diluc had to take care of the problem.

But tonight had been rough, and you’d been lured by the sound of glass clattering against the counter, and the promise of bliss if only for a few hours. Of course you’d thought Kaeya was there as well, which is why you’d bothered to drink that much.

But now you were stumbling into your room, drunk.

And very bad at being quiet.

Kaeya wasn’t the deepest sleeper, so you’d often be able to get away with sneaking in and crawling back into bed when coming back from work late.

But your drunk dumbass couldn’t stay up straight.

So despite thinking you were as quiet as the sneakiest ninja in all of Teyvat, the clatter of objects being strewn around with every step told you otherwise. You hadn’t meant to wake him up, you really hadn’t, even with your hazed mind you knew that Kaeya needed his sleep.

Somehow even drunk, you detected when he woke up with a groan, slowly rising to sit up. Just as he did so, you ducked, trying to hide your form in the darkness of the closet.

Kaeya didn’t have nocturnal vision like Diluc or Zhongli, so he struggled to glance around the room. Of course, even half asleep he knew any threat wouldn’t make that much noise. So he’d automatically suspected it was you, or a very poor excuse of a thief.

“Y/n…?”

Curled in a ball, you didn’t make a sound as you softly breathed against your knees. Pity you decided to be quiet now, Kaeya was already awake.

Standing on both feet, the cavalry knight rubbed at his eyes, glancing around the room once more. Now at this point he could smell the reeking of alcohol, and with a deep sigh he’d already puzzled together half of what was going on.

Eventually he spotted you, and with slow quiet steps, he made his way towards your bunched up form. Kneeling down to reach your small for, against the closet door, he breathed your name again, this time more worried.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t move, only sniffled when his eyes met yours. To say you were an emotional moody drunk was an understatement, you could jump from angry to energetic. Crying to laughing, any emotion, just too much of it. Another reason why you stayed away from alcohol unless Kaeya promised to stay sober, or Diluc offered to keep you in check.

Today, you decided to be a crybaby.

Kaeya paused, a hand slowly making its way to hold your face, hand against your cheek. His hand was calloused, and you nuzzled your head against the familiar form of his hand.

With a sigh, he slowly tugged you closer to him with one hand, lifting you up effortlessly. You leaned your head against his chest, a hiccup escaping your lips as well as a sob.

“What’s wrong kitten…?”

You sniffled in response.

Kaeya simply held you in his arms as he came to the kitchen, holding you with one hand as the other reached to grab a glass from the cupboard. There were times where he could be impatient, but cradling your quivering form, he didn’t even consider pressuring you for an answer.

He filled the glass with water, still holding you with one hand.

This man is strong- 😳

Anyways, one hand carrying you, the other one held the glass of water, and he made his way to the couch. Plopping down, he set you sideways on his lap, so your head and knees could lean against his chest.

If you weren’t drunk, you definitely would’ve admired the window ;)

One hand had the cup of water to your lips while the other tangled itself in your hair. It was messy, and his fingers slowly soothed out the tangles, careful not to make the process painful.

You drink the water, and once again, he asks what’s wrong.

You sniffle, “Y-you woke up.” 🥺

How could he not- you were literally kicking around every little thing on the ground. Probably hit the bed while you were at it too, even a deep sleeper would’ve woken up.

But Kaeya just chuckles.

He probably would’ve teased you, but you were genuinely crying, and he didn’t want to make you anymore upset. Especially when you were drunk, you were so unpredictable.

Instead he presses a kiss to your forehead, another between your eyebrows, and a last one to the tip of your nose. He promises you he doesn’t mind, that he will always wake up for you, that he’ll always be there.

You cry even more.

When you persist on the subject, he kisses you silent. He kisses you so much you forget what you were trying to say, and with another sniffle, you start to giggle. His lips drag to your neck, and your giggles turn to full out laughs at the jittery sensation.

“K-Kaeya- that tickles!”

Content that he managed to drag you from your solomn state, he sets the empty glass of water on the table, picking you up once more. He never stops kissing you though, your giggles like music to his ears.

He doesn’t stop kissing you till you’re all dressed up to sleep, tucked under the covers and in his arms.

You tell him you love him, he kisses you on the lips one last time and tells you that he wants to hear it in the morning.

Arms around him, you nuzzle your head against his neck, slowly drifting to sleep. He presses one last kiss to your forehead, tangling his legs with yours as he falls asleep alongside you.

_-_-_-_-_

Everything was hazy.

Your mind was jumbled between thoughts, your boyfriend beside you being the main focus. You could feel his warmth etch on your cold skin, wanting to press closer against him.

You couldn’t press close enough.

So with these jumbled thoughts, you sipped out of the glass of water in his hand, trying to clear and sort out what ran through your mind. But an overwhelming sensation of shame and guilt adorned your subconscious, and all you could do was cry. He’d asked why, rubbed his hand against your face and soothingly tousled his fingers through your hair.

And he’d laughed.

You didn’t understand what was so funny, you felt so terrible. He’d been sleeping and you’d woken him up. Of course you’d tried to hide away after doing so, but either you were terrible at hiding, or he had super senses.

Or you were drunk.

Not that you’d ever admit that to yourself in this state.

“B-But-“ you tried again, a hiccup cutting your sentence short.

Kaeya pressed another kiss to your lips, so gentle you couldn’t help but soften into it. Gentle, but firm enough to get you to shut up. Honestly- why wouldn’t he just let you talk??

“D-dont kiss me while I’m talki-“ you began.

He kissed you again.

“Hey! Are y-you even listen-“ you started.

He pressed his lips against yours, stern.

“K-Kaeya…” you whined, pouting when he kissed you again.

Instead of talking, you only stared up at him with puppy dog eyes, frown growing when he only chuckled in response. The tears had stopped, and the only sensation that pumped through your veins was annoyance, the look on your face made it clear enough.

Yet his hands worked their way around your hair, and the soothing motion was instantaneous on your mood. He set the glass down on the table, the other hand brushing back a strand of hair from your face. Getting a good view of the frown on your face, he paused, thinking of a way to take away the tears for good and put a smile on your face.

So he pressed his lips against your neck.

They were icy cold, different from the warmth of when he had kissed you. If you were sober, you would’ve known that it was the work of his vision, set down on the couch. But still, you jolted from the contact, letting out a speak of surprise fill the room.

“Cold!”

“Cold- cold- colddddd-“

His lips drifted from the nook of your neck to your shoulders, and you tensed up at the jittery sensation. Feather like, you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, forgetting about the tears you had shed earlier. It was like he was tickling you, and you flailed your legs, ankles brushing against the fabric of the cushion.

You squirmed, not enough to get out of his lap, but just enough to match the rhythm of your sporadic laughing. You didn’t notice how Kaeya’s lips curved to a smile at the sound, fingertips now cold to the touch as if to drain away all malicious thoughts.

At last, when he stopped with his icy teasing, you let out a sigh of relief. Burying yourself in the warmth of his chest, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead, warm.

You shivered against the contrast of temperature, an equally warm smile on your lips as you looked up to meet his eyes.

He beamed back, mission accomplished.

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: prologue

warnings: NSFW smut, oral (female and male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, talks of a killer, general horror themes

word count: 2.9k

summary: its been a week since you’ve last seen your boyfriend as there is a murderer out and about you spend the night together, not knowing that they aren’t safe themselves. 

The power had long gone out, yet you couldn’t sleep, as the wind bashed against the side of your house. Home alone - your parents had gone away for the weekend - and the storm outside gave you the spooks. A faint candlelit light warmed the living room, silhouettes dancing across the walls, as you sat curled up on the couch, trying to get the noises out of your head.

A book lay open on your lap, a random page open, but your eyes couldn’t focus on the words. You were nervous - storms always made you like that - but there was nothing you could do. All you hoped was that the storm would blow over in the morning. All you hoped was that you would peacefully fall asleep and morning would come quickly.

A scratching at the door knocked you out of your trance. Your head flicked up, eyes glossing over the front door, as you listened out. You tried glancing out the window to see who it could be, but the outside was too foggy. You could barely make out the flickering street lamps.

Cautiously, you moved towards the front door, your book folded back neatly in your hand. Maybe you could use it as a battering ram if there was an attacker at the door.

In your left hand, you picked up a candle, shining it towards the door handle. Taking a deep breath in, you flung the door open. Well, you slowly opened it, but the howling wind opened the door further.

“Jesus sweetheart, you gon’ let me stay in this rain all evening, huh?”

It was only James Potter.

Giggling, you tugged on his shirt collar, pulling him into your house, dropping your book on the way. His shirt had been soaked by the rain, no doubt that he must’ve walked all the way here from his own house. His usually beat fluffy hair was sticking against his forehead, crystal droplets clinging against his face. He looked devilishly handsome from the weather.

Staring up at his hazel eyes, you bit your lip seductively, waiting for him to make a move. For a moment, it seemed like he was just going to stay there, peering down at you through his water clogged eyelashes. Eventually, a half smirk tugged on his cheeks, a gentle rouge returning to his skin as he warmed up against the candle.

You couldn’t handle the suspense much longer. You leaned upwards, pressing your lips against his hungrily. You drank him in momentarily, getting intoxicated on his flavour - something sweet and something bitter at once - until you pulled away, needing oxygen.

“That’s a lovely welcome wagon.” James said cheekily, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, his wet fingers brushing against your cheek bones. “I was starting to think you had forgotten me.”

“It’s only been a week.” You hummed, leaning your forehead against his, happy to be in his presence once again. “You know my parents don’t want me going out at the moment. They’re still so tense about the so-called killer roaming around.”

James pressed his lips to your cheek, calming your nervousness down with his touch. “I know darling. I wish they wouldn’t take it out on me though.” His soft voice vibrated against your skin. You hummed along to what he was saying.

“It’s not your fault.” You muttered. “I have you now.” You started kissing from his lips to his jawline. Your plush cushions left tiny marks on James’ skin as you nipped lightly. Listening to his light moans only spurred you on, tugging him from the entrance way to back into the living room.

Pushing him onto the couch, you straddled his lap, continuing your venture on his neck. Sucking and nibbling at the skin underneath James’ ear, your desire to see your marks on him grew. Pulling back, you admired the flush on his neck, the other warm scarlet hue already fading to a gentle violet. Underneath your heat, you could feel James’ growing bulge against you, making you groan with arousal.

You couldn’t help your excitement. Clawing at his chest, you tugged on his shirt some more, signalling that you wanted it off. In a frantic scramble of limbs, you both worked together to undo the buttons on James’ damp button-up. Pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his toned torso, you pressed your lips against his chest, smothering open mouth kisses across his pectorals, eliciting whimpers from the bespectacled man before you.

James bucked his hips against you, signalling that he was getting desperate. In an attempt to sooth his desires, you pulled yourself downwards onto your knees, looking up at him. “May I?” You asked for consent, resting your hand against his thighs, the pads of your fingers tracing delicate circles against the material of his jeans.

“Please.” James gulped, already breathing heavily. With a smirk, you hoisted yourself upwards again, hands fidgeting with the zipper on his jeans, undoing the top button. When the jeans would allow you, you pulled them down, revealing James’ girth, straining against his boxers. The sight alone made you grow wetter in your underwear.

With another nod of consent from James, you pulled down his boxers, his thick member slapping against his stomach, red and angry from the tensing beforehand. Lethargically, you stroked the palm of your hand against his skin, spreading the leaking precum from his tip all over his length, making it smoother to handle.

Quickening your pace, you looked up at the fine young man before you, whose eyes were squeezed right from the pleasure. Except, you wanted him to look at you. It had been over a week since you had last been intimate and you wanted the attention on yourself. You were the one pleasuring James, not the inside of his eyelids.

“Look at me,” you whispered against his cock, “I’m the one making you a whimpering mess.” In an attempt to please you, James looked down at you, fixing his eyes to the way you pressed gentle kisses to the underside of his cock, your lips rubbing across his sensitive veins.

“S-so good.” James whimpered, as you took the beginning of his length into your mouth, suckling on the head. “Please… I need more. Please give me more. I’ll be so good to you, please, just give me all of your mouth. I beg of you, give me more.”

Satisfied with James’ begging, you started downwards on his cock again, trying to fit as much as possible in your mouth. As you were entirely caught up in the way James was falling apart beneath you, you didn’t notice the scratching at your window, until the wind had entirely slammed against it, rain pelting the pane of glass. The swinging window had opened itself up from the ferociousness of the storm, a cool draft interrupting your intimate moment.

A chill ran up the back of your spine, and it wasn’t from arousal. You took yourself off of James’ cock, giggling as to disperse the tension. His thigh muscles were flexed and tense, sweating beading from his palms. Sitting up slightly, you placed your hand against his, a feeble attempt to calm his racing mind.

“It was just the wind, love.” You murmured, sitting back on your heels, making your way to the open window. The hissing rain coated you in a thin layer of ice cold water, as you poked your head outside, checking the yard to see if anyone was there. Exactly like you thought, no one was there, except for a stray rodent in the grass. Satisfied, you closed the window, double checking the lock to make sure it was locked tight.

Spinning around again, you noticed James’ attention wasn’t on you once again. A frown appeared on your lips as you followed James’ gaze outwards into the kitchen. “Babe..” He whimpered again.

“What’s wrong?”

“The lights.” James paused, turning his head back towards you once again. “They were flickering.”

“Impossible.” You scoffed, strutting back towards James, placing your hands on his shoulders lovingly. “The power went out hours ago.”

You could tell James was still nervous, and rightly so. For the past few weeks, it seemed like a serial killer had invited themself into the neighbourhood, slaughtering mischievous teenagers whenever they could. Luckily, it hasn’t affected your friend group much, but it has still rocked you and your community. Your parents even refused to send you back to school.

They were hesitant to even go out his weekend, but you convinced them it was a good idea, as to leave you alone from their constant pestering.

“Would you like to go upstairs to my bedroom, love?” That peaked James’ interest, who immediately started flashing puppy dog eyes, as if that would convince you further. Grinning sweetly, you took his hand in yours, pulling his pants up momentarily, as you grabbed a candle.

Hand in hand, you walked up your creaky stairs together, with you leading the way with your candle. When you reached the landing, you invited James into your bedroom, closing the door behind you to set the mood even more.

Gently placing the candle on your bedside table, you laid yourself against your plush comforter, spreading your clothed legs to tease James slightly. It was just then when James realised that you were fully clothed when he had already lost his shirt and some of his pants. Greedily, he lunged forward, nimble fingers working at the hem of your shirt.

“Please can I take this off?” James asked sweetly, meeting your eyes with his. Humming in affirmation, James ripped the top through the middle, receiving a chuckle from you. He plunged his face into your protruding breasts, inhaling the scent on your skin. His hands worked subconsciously against your arms, pushing the remains of your shirt off of your body. When the last of that flimsy material was off of you, you swung your hands behind you, unhooking your bra, revealing your perky tits fully to your boyfriend, who looked like he had just won the lottery.

“Go ahead darling.” You affirmed to the boy, who immediately latched his mouth onto your nipple, humming in delight at your taste. At that moment, you felt like heaven. The soft noises of James sucking against you brought you peace in this stressful time.

You felt James move across to your other tit as your eyes glossed over to your open curtains. In a flash, you saw a darting figure, something solid and dark standing within your tree. When you looked back, it was gone.

Must’ve been a trick of the light.

You were getting too worked up again. To move the thoughts out of your head, you gently reached underneath James’ chin, tilting his face upwards, stroking his cheek with your hand. You reattached your lips to his, pushing the anxious thoughts away, only focusing on the person giving you pleasure in the moment.

“May I?” James nosed at your jaw, taking in deep breaths, yet you were unsure of what exactly he wanted. Smirking, you cocked your head to the side, pouting ever so slightly.

“What do you want darling?” You teased, letting your finger wander across James’ skin. “If you want something, you have to ask.”

James was slowly turning into a whimpering mess as he continued nosing at your neck, placing gentle kisses to your sensitive skin when he felt like it, something you let him do lightly, as he was still a little spooked from the window situation.

Then, you felt James’ hands travel south, trying to connect to whatever skin was available. You understood in that moment what he wanted, grinning cheekily and tugging his face down. With your approval, James looked delighted, flipping your skirt upwards and pulling down your panties. Mesmerised by how your arousal had already soaked through the material, his jaw fell open slightly.

James dove in, kissing and nibbling at your quivering cunt. He licked a fast stripe up the entire length of your pussy, finishing at your throbbing clit. It was screaming to be touched from James’ accidental teasing. When he eventually attached his lips to your clit and sucked, you arched your back off of the bed in pleasure, blissful to finally be getting what you wanted.

His playful tongue teased your entrance, dipping in momentarily before completely pulling out. You hadn’t realised how much you needed him until now, but you let him have your fun. He was your good boy after all.

James continued his venture of your cunt, feasting upon it like a starving man. You tried to keep your eyes on him - to admire the sight and to not be a hypocrite - but your eyes wandered towards the window. You had the full view of the tree once again. You still couldn’t get that figure out of your head, as much as you would like to with the adoring man between your legs.

A crash rang out from downstairs.

In an instant, James shot up from between you, looking at your bedroom door that was pulled shut. You could’ve sworn that you had even heard James growl slightly. Reaching towards him, you carded your fingers in his hair, scratching at his scalp in an aid to sooth him.

“Shh- shh- shh, it will just be my cat darling, don’t fret.” You tilted his head back towards you, pulling him upwards so he was hovering over your naked body. You stretched upwards, connecting your lips with his, tasting yourself on his tongue. You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of his cock pressing against his lower stomach getting to you.

“I need you in me. Please, I want you.” You begged, showing a little submissive behaviour to redirect James’ attention. It worked. His eyes were fixed on you once again, his tongue darting out from his mouth to lick his lips.

“Okay love, just lie back.” James hummed to himself as he lined up his member with your entrance. Looking back at you for consent once again, which you granted with a nod, he entered your tight cunt, a moan escaping his lips.

It felt like ecstasy to be connected once again so intimately. You had forgotten how obsessed you were with the way he slotted into you. Bottoming out, he started thrusting with more effort, pushing himself along so you would fall apart. James’ favourite thing ever was the look you made when you came.

Trailing your fingers downwards, you played with your own clit, feeling your back arch from the bed. It was all too good. James was thrusting into you like it was your first time, and it almost made you forget about the storm outside.

Almost.

It seemed like your eyes were transfixed on your window. The rain was now peltering down ever harder, as if that was possible. As your own orgasm grew, it felt like the storm did too. Sweat was dripping down your face, but it felt like icy rain against your hot, flushed skin.

The lack of control was driving you mad. In a last attempt to clear your anxiety, you pushed James onto his back, his cock slipping out of you momentarily, until you straddled him once again.

Riding him made you feel better. James was back to moaning beneath you and you were calming down. The only sound that you were focused on was the sound of your skin slapping against each other and James’ heavy groans echoing off the walls.

“May I cum?” You had almost forgotten about James for a second. His eyes were screwed shut and it seemed like he had been asking for permission for a while, something that your senses must’ve skipped over. In a way to reassure your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his chest, focusing attention on his tight nipples.

“Of course, such a good boy for me.” And with that, James came with a shout. You could feel the hot ribbons of his cum filling you up, as James toyed with your clit, desperate to make you cum against his cock before he softened. It didn’t take long as only seconds after James came, you came with him, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, knocking over all of your senses.

When you came to, you noticed a scared look back on James’ face. Confused, you peered over to where he was looking, and heard it too. Banging against your bedroom door, someone was in your house and someone was trying to get into your room.

You screamed. It was the only thing you could do. Finding a rogue sweater off the ground, you struggled to push it over your head as James scrambled to pull his pants up. When you both felt like you were dressed enough, you rushed over to your bedroom window, opening it desperately.

A splatter of rain water hit your face, cooling you from your previous exhibitions. There was a tree right next to your window, which you reached out to, curling your fingers onto the branch. Looking back, you saw the door begin to open and panic settled in you.

You jumped. You jumped from a second story, landing not so ideally on your ankle. You hissed in pain and James followed suit, only he managed to land in a skilled way.

“Come on, hurry.” James pestered you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and hoisting you up. You began running away from your house together, your sprained ankle slowing you down more than you would’ve liked.

When you looked back, all you could see was a hollow figure standing on the footpath, watching you.

*** a/n: i wrote something again hell yeah

[sungsungie]

NCT Dream’s reaction to you coming home drunk — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

nct dream x gn reader !!

fluff // mentions of alcohol

Mark

one of your friends drove you home from a party, because you were obviously very intoxicated.

“thanks for the ride” you said as you sloppily closed the car door and walked to the front door of your apartment.

you got the key out of your pocket and unlocked the door.

as soon as you step foot in the house you start going bazerk, yelling things like “MARK LEEEE” and “HELP I NEED TO FEED THE FISH”.

mark looks out of the cracked door to you guys’ bedroom and laughs.

“the fish?? wait” his laughter starts to have undertones of slight confusion.

he walks out of the door and stands in front of you “y/n we don’t have fish!” he says, still finding this hilarious.

“ahh you are the fish mark!!” you say drowsily, starting to cry ??

this is why he told you not to drink anymore!!!

“wait wait don’t cry” mark quietly says now holding in his laughter.

he hugs you and afterwards takes you into you guys’ room to rest, as he could tell you needed it <3

Renjun

you open the door of your apartment, aggressively slamming the door behind you.

“woah woah woah calm down” renjun says after looking up from the couch, laughing.

he slowly walks towards you with suspicion on his face. “are you drunk?”

“whaaat nooo why would I be drunk you know I don’t drinkk~~~” you utter.

still giggling, he pats your head finding you very cute, even drunk.

such a simp

“okay cmon babe let’s go, you need sleep.”

“NOOO i’m not tired” you refuse, pulling away.

renjun gives you a warning look and gently grabs your hand back, kissing you on the cheek.

“yes you are. now c’mon.”

you manage to get out an “uaghh okay”

before getting pulled into your bedroom and tucked into bed, neatly and swiftly.

“sleep well. if you need anything i’ll be in the living room. okay? I love you baby.”

and with that, he kisses your forehead and gently closes the door.

Jeno

you come home, extremely loud and wild.

jeno honestly doesn’t have much of a reaction because, well yk jaemin loud asf so hes used to it😕

“HAYYYY JENOOO AYOOO”

he just looks at you and laughs, going alone with it. “AYOOO Y/N”

you both laugh and he pulls you into his lap on the couch.

“what are you watching?? telletubbies?”

he cackles and shakes his head “this is a drama not telletubies. are you drunk? you are acting crazy”

“honestly, yes I am.” you both die of laughter again and he wraps his arms around you.

“you could have invited me” he says, looking at you.

“IT WAS MY FRIENDS BIRTHDAY PARTY!!!” you yell, in a funny voice.

he giggles and puts his hands up “okay okayy sorry.”

you guys spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking on the couch.

Haechan

you come home to see him on his phone, calling someone.

“GET OFF OF THE PHONE IM HERE!!”

he jumps, looking at you in confusion “ARE YOU INSANE?”

you laugh and admit blatantly. “sorry, I’m drunk”

he looks at you with disappointment. “aghh i apologize, my s/o is crazy.” and hangs up the phone.

“HEY IM NOT CRAZY!!!” you say playfully slapping him in the arm.

“OW?? CMON YOU’RE GOING TO BED” he says, dragging you to your room.

he tucks you in and after looking down at you for a while, starts smiling.

“what” you say, drowsily.

he giggles and starts moving his hands through your hair. “you’re just so cute”

you smile and start to fall asleep.

“silly y/n” he says, watching you for a bit then laying down beside of you.

Jaemin

you walk in, not closing the door behind you.

“hm?” jaemin turns around from the kitchen, as he is making dinner.

“y/n? baby? you good? he asks as he walks away from the kitchen and closes the front door.

he goes into you guys’ shared room and is surprised to see you passed out on the bed.

“ahhh. she’s drank again.”

he gently squeezes your shoulder, making you wake up, angry and still drunk.

“ughh what do you want old man” you mutter out, laying your head back down.

jaemin gasps, putting his hand on his chest. “old man?” he starts laughing.

“okay well the old man wants to know if you still want dinner or not.”

you pry your face off of the comforter and look at him, annoyed. “no”

he laughs and pats your head “okay, have a nice sleep love.”

you lay your head back down and go to sleep instantly again.

“cutie”

Chenle

Chenle is playing with daegal in the living room when you suddenly burst through the door.

“daegal is she bonkers or what” he whispers to the dog.

“what did you just say?? is who bonkers??? I AM NOT BONKERS!!!” you say, angrily but also laughing.

“I didn’t say anyone was bonkers” he looks at you trying not to laugh.

“sure you didn’t commander lala!!”

chenle suddenly bursts out in laughter, saying “WHO IS COMMANDER LALA?”

you run to him and skittishly pretend like you’re going to beat him up, making him fall back.

“AHH NO NO WAIT WAIT I SWEAR I DIDNT MEAN IT WAIT”

you laugh and fall into his lap, looking up at him.

“did you know that-“

chenle looks down at you to see you have fallen asleep and cackles.

“I didnt know that woww” he says, caressing your face, smiling.

“daegal, give me a paw if y/n shouldnt drink anymore.”

Jisung

you come in the door and close it sneakily.

“y/n what are you doing” jisung looks at you and laughs, standing up and putting his phone in his pocket.

“AWW THERES MY JISUNGIE” you excitedly say and run up to him, squishing his cheeks.

“what?” he says laughing shyly.

you ruffle his hair. “you’re so cute awww”

“you’re crazy” he says smiling, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

you follow him to you guys’ room and sit on the desk chair, putting on jisung’s headset.

he turns to you and laughs “you gonna play cod?”

“yes” you say confidently and he sits on the bed behind you to watch.

within the first 2 minutes you are killed, which makes your eyes start watering.

“aww that’s too ba- wait are you okay?” he says as he tries not to laugh and hugs you again.

“cmon how about we put you to sleep, okay?” he pulls your hand to the bed and lays beside of you.

“goodnight sung” you say and lay on his chest.

he grins. “goodnight y/n”.

[themaribatpit]

Jasonette July Day 12: Dare

Written by: The Maribat Pit  @jasonette-july-event Prompt: Dare Rated: T (Drink responsibly my friends) A/N: Maribat fangirl went to Uni in the UK. Most people thought they could outdrink the Americans, and that American beer tasted horrible.  DC fanboy isn’t much of a drinker. Also we planned this earlier, but I saw this blog post from @ritacrow-blogrequesting something similar a few days ago, so here you go.  I don’t know if you’re a fan of the in vino veritas/drunken confession trope, so feel free to skip it if you aren’t.

“So, why are we doing this again?” Tim asked hesitantly, as they gathered in the Wayne Manor lounge. “Because Pixie Pop here issued a challenge, and I don’t plan on letting her win”, Jason explained with a smirk. “All she said was ‘American drinking laws are bullshit’, and it’s not like you don’t know the name of every single bar in Gotham that doesn’t card.” Tim retorted.  “She also said American beer tastes gross, so I don’t know why you brought Budweiser of all things”.

“She dared us to try and drink her under the table, and I’m sure as hell not backing down.” Jason hissed, and Tim decided that it was pointless trying to argue.  The whole reason Tim and Steph were even involved was because they had just turned 18, which meant they were allowed to take part in this little drinking competition.  Alfred was in the corner of the room keeping score, someone had to, considering the night they were about to have.

After they all gathered in the lounge, it was time for the challenge to begin.  Barbara quietly sipped her glass of wine, curling into Dick’s side as she watched the movie playing on the TV.  Jason and Dick had downed a bottle of beer each, waiting for Marinette to finish her first glass of wine.  Marinette rested her back against Jason’s arm as she watched the movie play out, the night had just begun and she wasn’t about to let them win.  She wouldn’t be able to look any non-American person in the eye if they knew she got out drunk by them. Marinette took in the soft glow of the lounge, alternating between leaning on the sofa or Jason’s leather-clad shoulder.  It almost reminded her of her home city at night. She looked around at the people she had come to know, fairly certain she had the dopiest smile on her face at that moment.  

She had arrived in Gotham City not long ago, and she was surprised to find that some of them welcomed her with open arms.  Not all of them, obviously, some were a bit more welcoming than others.  Bruce didn’t really trust her as a magic user, and Damian usually kept to himself.  Preferring to be alone with his pets, Titus and Alfred (the cat). The others assured her not to take it too personally, that they are like that with everyone.  With Jason, it was hard to tell what he thought about her.  Dick was like an older brother to everyone, and in some ways reminded Marinette of Chat Noir, alot.  While Barbara, Steph and Cass were like the sisters Marinette didn’t have.  Tim was at least somewhat curious about her powers and how they worked, hard as he tried to fight it in the beginning.

With Jason, it was much harder to tell at times.  He wasn’t quite as closed off as Damian, though sometimes she found him in the Wayne Manor library reading by the window.  They had each other’s backs in a fight, and the fact that she was much smaller compared to him earned her the nickname “Pixie Pop”.   They worked well together on missions, and there was plenty of friendly banter between them.  There was almost a veneer of sarcasm and bravado.  

The only time it showed any sign of falling was when his pit madness took over.  Even then she was more focused on asking Plagg and Tikki for help, seeing as it was their magic causing this.  There was no fixing it, but they had managed to help get it under control.  Marinette was almost frustrated when he woke up to find her waiting at his bedside, after working around the clock to keep the madness at bay.  The sounds of him screaming and thrashing around were still ringing in her ear, and the most that he could muster was “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you there, Pixie.” he drawled.  

“Pixie, you there?” Jason gently poked her on the shoulder and she realised that she had been staring into her wine glass for a moment.  She took a large gulp before setting the glass down on the table, the night had just begun.  

As the night went on, Tim was not impressed with how beer tasted. “People actually drink this stuff for fun?” he muttered. He was starting to think Marinette might have a point about how American beer tasted. Sadly the old adage of “liquor before beer, you’re in the clear” meant that it was too late to try Steph’s approach.  Steph was nursing a Jack Daniels and coke as she watched the film, letting that light of the TV screen dance in front of them.

Later into the night, Tim was getting tipsy at that point. Considering this was his first time drinking, Marinette gave him a smile that said “you get points for trying”.  If Steph wasn’t drunk now, she was going to be feeling the effects very soon.  She mostly drank spirits chased down with soda and juice.  Barbara had already left after a couple of glasses of wine, deciding to leave the rest of them to this game.  Jason and Dick had beer bottles lined up in front of them, almost as if they were competing with each other first. Marinette continued to leisurely sipped her wine, knowing that she was their final boss at that moment.

In the end, only Marinette and Jason were left in the lounge.  Steph left had already left, and Tim followed not long after,  Alfred helped get Dick into bed after he nearly passed out on the coffee table.  “It’s you and me, Poxie Pip” Jason slurred, Alfred occasionally came in to check on them.  

Marinette, who at this point was slightly tipsy, leaned in close and whispered in his ear “What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll lose?”

“There’s worse ways to go, Pixie, trust me.” he laughed, Marinette gave him a very sad smile.  He finished the last of his beer bottle before laying down on the sofa, resting his head on Marinette’s lap. Marinette was certain she could feel her face heating up, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest as she looked down at him.  

“Are you sure my teeny tiny legs can support your big head?” she joked. Great, now she was doing it too. she looked away in hopes that he couldn’t see the blush on her face.  She didn’t get Asian glow, but now she was really hoping she had that as an excuse.    

“I’ve seen you lift goons twice your size and throw them across rooms,” he laughed “besides, this feels kinda nice.” he mumbled.

“Yeah but that was me as Ladybug, it’s also what keeps me from tripping over air and landing on my face.” she explained.  She didn’t think her heart would be able to handle looking down to see one of the few times she saw him completely at peace.  She was used to people who preferred her as her alter ego anyhow.

“I guess you win this round,” he slurred, Marinette still hadn’t moved his head from her lap.  If anything, her free hand was working its way through his dark locks of hair.  He smiled, letting himself be lulled to sleep by the simple yet kind gesture.  “Serves me right,” he yawned, “getting drunk with a fairy princess.”

Marinette turned her attention back to the last of her wine, “there he goes again, making silly jokes like that.” she thought.  “Especially with one as pretty as you,” he laughed. Marinette was about to get up at that moment, now he was just being ridiculous.  “I like you...” were the last words he said before letting sleep take him.  

It was everything Marinette could do not to drop her wine class on the floor in shock.  Marinette thought she heard wrong.  She shook her head, what did it matter? I mean, she had called her friends pretty loads of times before, it’s not like he said he loved her or anything.  These were things that you said to friends all the time, right? At that moment, there was a knock on the door, Alfred came in and saw Jason asleep in Marinette’s lap.  “I was just about to leave could you maybe help Jason get back to his room? That would be great thanks Alfred.” she quickly spluttered before dashing out of the lounge and down the hallway in search of an empty guest room to sleep in.  

Jason tragically awoke the next morning with a hangover and a vague memory of what had happened the night before.  He thought this was probably the very reason why Bruce did not drink.  Alfred came in with a tray of chilli dogs and water, to nurse the hangover.  “Thanks Alfred,” Jason groaned, “do I even wanna know what happened last night?”

“If you must know Master Todd, you won second place in last night’s drinking competition.” He explained, Jason sighed, Marinette wasn’t going to let him live that down.  He still had to admit he was impressed with her. “Miss Dupain-Cheng seemed rather flustered after you compared the experience to  ‘getting drunk with a fairy princess’ and confessed your admiration and affection for her.”   It was all coming back to him now, and he was about to be sick.  He told her that he thought she was pretty and that he liked her. He wasn’t wrong, but it probably didn’t sound as romantic coming from someone who was probably very drunk.   He reached for the chilli dog, hoping that he would be able to keep it down.   “In vino veritas indeed, or in birro veritas in your case”, Alfred quoted.  Jason took a sip of water, still too stunned to speak.  “If you still hold such affection for Miss Dupain-Cheng, might I suggest telling her when you’ve sobered up?” he suggested, giving Jason a slight sympathetic smile.

“I’ll try, thanks Alfred” he replied as Alfred left the room, leaving him to his thoughts.  

A couple of days later, Marinette was sitting in her studio, drinking a warm mug of hot chocolate.  Jason hadn’t called her or spoken to her since the party, and she had hoped that he had just drunkenly forgotten his little drunken confession.  It wasn’t that Marinette didn’t reciprocate his feelings, it just felt like there was no point in putting stock in something he said while he was so very drunk.  It almost made Marinette laugh a little at the thought.  Her phone buzzed, it was a message from Jason:  “Hey, you busy today? I’ve got something to tell you.  Sober, this time”.  Marinette smiled, maybe this time there was truth in the foul tasting American beer.

 BONUS: The next morning in the Batcave... Tim: That tasted like actual vomit.  Dick: It's an acquired taste, Baby Bird. Tim: Which is to say you were peer pressured into liking it.

[babyloposts]

RoseBud

My Hero Academia Gang AU

Pairing(s): Sero Hanta x fem!reader

Warnings: language, drug use, explicit content, sexual themes, gang imagery, violence

Summary: a simple crush on a guy quickly turns south as you become wrapped up in an unsafe life of lies, drugs, and violence. What happens when you become a key player in a war between to rival gangs and have to deal with a complicated love life all at the same time.

—————————————————

0.5

You stayed occupied on your phone until Hatsume returned to finish up the details of your already sore rose. In the time it took for her to do whatever business she had with those boys, your numbing cream had began to wear off.

The tension in the room was thick. The previously care-free energy Hatsume possessed was replaced with a melancholic and faraway stare in her eyes.

“Alright babe I’m all done. Remember to clean the skin with a gentle anti-bacterial soap and use alcohol-free moisturizer alright.” There was a feigned happiness in Hatsume’s voice, but her eyes said it all. Whatever Bakugou had done to her, whatever he and the red head had taken from her must have dampened her mood more than the threat from earlier.

You nodded to Hatsume and she took her leave as you were re-dressing. Luckily the top you wore was a light fabric and didn’t rub against your tattoo too much, but you could tell, this was going to hurt in the morning.

Walking back into the main lobby you only found Sero. No Bakugou, Hatsume, or mysterious Red Head to be found. You wanted to be happy to see Sero, but the look on his face and the mark on his face were more than enough to dampen your mood.

“Sero, oh my God!” He cringed as your finger lightly danced over his bruised cheekbone. Your hand flew to him without even thinking. Quickly you whipped it back and silently scolded yourself for your overbearing nature. “I’m sorry I-”

“Don’t apologize. It’ll only make me feel worse about getting punched in the face.” He chuckled, but your expression never faltered. The worry was there and it wasn’t going anywhere. Your brain was rattling with questions of ‘why?’ and ‘what happened?’, but as soon as you even fixed your mouth to speak Sero was cutting you off with the sharp movement of rising to his feet.

“Let me drive you home. It’s late.” Without checking for a change in your face or any confirmation he turned to leave the shop, trusting that you had fallen instep behind him.

The car ride to your apartment didn’t answer any lingering questions either. The only sounds that graced your ears was the buzzing of the engine and the light sounds of J. Cole songs emanating from the stereo. Sero periodically asked for vague directions to your side of town, but surprisingly he found your small complex with ease.

“Thank you.” You sighed as he shifted the car into park. The car ride may have been soothing, but the fear for your new friend’s well-being never once left your gut.

“Don’t thank me. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. And I pride myself on being a pretty nice guy.” The smile graced easily over his face as if he didn’t have a giant bruise forming under his eye. Your expression remained unmoving, your friend full of wonder as to what he was hiding from you. Yea, you had just officially met Sero tonight and he really isn’t obligated to tell you anything personal, but he was acting like none of that crazy shit just happened.

Sero chuckled, breaking through your bewildered inner monologue to move around and open your car door for you. “Alright, this is the part where you go home. Not that I’m trying to get rid of you.” He winked.

“R-right.” You get out of the car and start to your apartment. This didn’t feel right, the energy was too weird. You knew in the back of your mind that Denki was right. He had said Sero was a good guy and you’d be in good hands with him and he was right. Sero was probably trying to protect you from whatever shady business he was apart of, but you couldn’t leave this “date” where it was. You made it about half way to the door to enter the lobby of the building before you spun on your heels and placed your hands firmly on your hips. Sero was watching you as he leisurely leant on the hood of his black muscle car. Totally unbothered as you had come to expect.

“You’re not leaving here without me checking you out.” You said with all the gusto you could muster.

“Go ahead. I’m standing right here.” He smirked and drank you in with his eyes.

“Stop being an idiot and come upstairs with me. I can’t go to sleep tonight knowing that I just let you leave here with a black eye and I didn’t even offer you an ice-pack.”

“If you wanted me to come up to your apartment with you, you didn’t have to make up an excuse.” He punctuated his sentence with the chirp of his car doors locking and jogged up next to you.

“What happened to you being a gentleman?” You snorted.

“I can’t ever turn down an offer like that from you. I’ll take my chances.” He grinned slyly. You rolled your eyes trying to act like his charm wasn’t getting to you.

Sero followed you into the elevator and into your apartment. It was quaint and homey and smelled of bergamot incense. Luckily you had cleaned up a few days ago and your apartment was presentable to guests.

“You can sit on the couch I’ll get you some ice and a damp rag.” Without checking to see if he even listened to your instructions you busied yourself hopping from room to room of your apartment to gather the supplies to help his worsening bruise. Once you were back in the living room you instinctively pressed the makeshift ice-pack to Sero’s eye causing him to wince.

“That’s what you get for getting yourself beat up because of me.” You huffed.

“What do you mean? I didn’t-”

“I heard what he said Sero. That blond guy was yelling at Hatsume saying that you left the club before you were supposed to and he had to finish the job for you. You told me that you were done for the night. I wouldn’t have cared if we stayed longer.”

“I didn’t get beat up for you.” Softly, your hand was removed from in front of his eye. With Sero’s vision no longer obscured he could see the look of guilt clear as fat on your face. “I chose to leave. I was gonna do what needed to get done regardless, but my boss has little faith in me I guess. He sent his guard dog after me instead of trusting that I know how to get shit done.” Sero grumbled at the end. That seemed to have put him off. It was the one time his chill façade had faded that night.

“So... taking me to Hatsume was an excuse?”

Quickly the charm was back and he was reassuring you that you were priority number one. “No. Well kind of. I still wanted you to have a good time, but I would have had to see Hatsume tonight anyway. So, two birds and all that.” He shrugged.

With the ice pack now back on his face you started again, you found it was easier to speak your mind this way. No seductive eyes to sway the conversation. “Okay. But still. You should have checked in with whoever to avoid all this.” You gestured to his face.

“This happens more often than you think.”

“Sero. Be serious please.” You sighed. “You didn’t need to get hurt indirectly because of me. I’m not gonna ask what you or Bakugou needed from Hatsume, because obviously it wasn’t tattoo related, but can you at least promise me that you won’t leave working just to hang with me?”

“So there’s gonna be a next time.” His eyebrows wiggled, taunting you.

You stammered. You didn’t mean to sound presumptuous, but you were hoping he would want to go out with you again. “I mean yeah, I thought tonight was fun, all things considering.”

“Yeah? Me too.” His hand began to snake to your thigh that was now exposed to him as your skirt hiked up from your sitting position. The hand was comforting reminding you of the comfort you got from him earlier that night in the car.

“I-“ Your throat all of a sudden felt so dry. Clearing uncomfortably, you began again. “I don’t know if this is really gentlemanly.” You chuckled. Sero’s gaze at you did not falter for a second. His eyes were hazy and his eyelids dropped. The look in his eyes drew you in and you dropped the ice-pack from his face.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t keep my eyes off you. You’re beautiful.” You smiled as the compliment. Again the compliment on your beauty was unfamiliar, but greatly appreciated.

“Thank you... but I-” Your protests were quickly silenced by the force of his lips pressing against yours.

Like ice against a flame you melted into the kiss automatically. Your lips mended together perfectly. His felt rough, slightly chapped, but the way he moved in rhythm with you caused you to swoon. You were both drunk on each other’s touch. His hands roamed you lower body and rested on your waist, while you explored his hair and massaged his scalp with your finger tips.

A firm squeeze to your upper thigh elicited a gasp from your lips breaking the kiss and allowing Sero just enough time to slip your blouse over your head. What a pleasant surprise it was to find you without a bra on to obstruct his view. “Nice tat.” He smirked.

To avoid the embarrassment bubbling in your chest you shut him up this time by climbing into his lap and resuming the kiss where you had left off. In this position he had free reign of your body. His hands explored every inch of your legs, ass, and back.

You were a frustrated moaning and groaning into his mouth which only made him want to touch you more. Those intimate sounds making him harden beneath you.

Sero was undeniably sexy. You had fantasized about being with him before you really knew him, but everything went beyond your expectations. The way his rough hands felt against your body, the way his tongue and lips felt tangling with yours and his scent. It was a strong mix of cologne, weed, and something almost sickeningly sweet. You could have sworn it was...

Cherry Blossoms.

As if I’ve cold water had been poured on you, you ended your make out session with your crush prematurely.

“What happened?” Sero finally showed some other emotion. A mix of curiosity and worry.

You panicked how could you explain this. “Sero... you- you don’t want me.”

“The fuck are you on? Of course I want you.” His eyes flicked down taking in the sight of you bare chested and sitting on his straining erection.

“No you don’t. I’m sorry but, it’s my quirk that’s making you like me.”

“Huh?”

previous|next

Masterlist

Taglist: @black-bhabie-2000

[honestsycrets]

Say Your Piece II: Heart Breaker

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader, hvitserk x ?

❛ type | double triple? shot, mistakes were made au

❛ chp summary | after the reader says she doesn’t want hvitserk; he makes a bad decision. it gets worse from there.

❛  tags | plus size reader, verbal arguments, extreme social anxiety, extreme body insecurity, drinking, hateful words, illustrator hvitserk x writer reader, mention of infidelity, shame, OCs, sexual frustration, blackmail, cheating mentioned, verbal abuse, sexual blackmail, poor communication? it’s more likely than you think. tags to be added.

❛ request | So Hvitserk request (you a asked for it 😂) Remember the Little Lovers event and the self-conscient plus size reader who didn’t want to have sex ?Well I didn’t get the sex lol. I want my Hvitserk to show a woman how her body is enjoyable. Thank you 😊 for @alicedopey

❛ sy’s note | i’ll eventually get you your sex scene, DAMN IT.

He wakes with a blaring headache caused by a stream of fresh morning light against his soft cheek. He pulls his arms around you-- or, what he thought was you, as the moment he does so, he knows it’s wrong. Where soft folds and overflowing breasts were, he finds thin limbs and small breasts.

It’s not your body-- he realizes all at once. The high rise apartment that overlooked the city wasn’t, either. It was the fruit of an accomplished older woman, whose many books hovered on a white shelf beside a white bed. Everything in the room holds the same pure standard. He flings himself from the bed, his naked ass colliding with a nightstand. The items ripple over the surface and settle into new positions. The woman pushes up, dragging the painfully monochrome white fluffy sheet to cover her flat chest. 

“Hvitserk?” 

Erika, in all her sharp-eyed glory, stares right back at him. Vomit spins up his throat, incited by the affection by with her eyes considered him. Hvitserk scrambles over the perfectly plain hardwood floors, upchucking up what’s left of his agitated stomach after his pathetic night out on the town. 

“Hvitserk!” 

Her spindly hand is at his back. Ordinarily, she was a comfort in your absence. That despite her pushing, and pushing, and pushing to get your name off “his” book, she would always be there for him in ways that a lover could not. Author-illustrators make so much more than being an illustrator alone, she reminded him. Her considerate words now feel like measured steps against his relationship. Her touch rips his skin into gooseflesh. Hvitserk works his shoulder away, his knuckles becoming white around the bowl.

“You drank too much last night.” it’s a non-question. Obviously, if he were here, he had. He groans his miserable response into the toilet bowl, wishing he could smother himself in the water, as it would be a better punishment than anything his girlfriend could do to him. “I’ll make you some coffee.” 

Her steps become distant echoes. When he finishes and cleans after himself, he starts his search for his clothes. He picks them from a singular pile, draws them back on, and reaches for his phone. It bleats a miserable eight percent battery life.

“She didn’t call if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Ericka stands in a silvery slip; although he’s not sure when she put on some clothes. She hands him his cup of coffee and takes a seat on her “divorce couch”, a plain grey chair that she scammed her ex-husband out of. As she sits there, all long limbs, and purposefully sultry clothes-- the guilt strikes him.

Hvitserk takes a sip of bitter, burnt black coffee. She’s never been a great coffee maker but her heart is in the right place. It wouldn’t feel right to snuff her. After all, he probably spent the night before buried in her cunt. 

“You called me to pick you up at the bar last night. You were so drunk all you wanted to do was lay on my chest,” Ericka pulls a sheer black kimono over her thin collarbones. His eyes fall on her hands. “I told you she’d break your heart. Women like that-- once they get over a certain weight-- they aren’t emotionally available to do anything but eat. It consumes them.” 

“She ain’t like that.”

“If she’s not like that, then why did you have sex with me? Be honest with yourself, Hvitserk. Your needs aren’t met with her. That’s why you needed me.” 

His mouth runs dry. Like he’s been chewing on his regret as if it were paper. He couldn’t remember the night before. It was like a bad memory he never wanted to recover. Hvitserk glances down to his cup as he sinks onto her bed. 

“It was an accident,” he glares at the surface. “I- You know I can’t be with you, right? You’re--” 

“Old?” she asks. He���s never cared about something as simple as that. Twelve years his senior or not, it wasn’t an issue.

“It’s not that. C’mon Erika, you know I don’t give a shit about age. She’s my baby girl.” 

“You’re going to stay with her? A woman like that?” 

“Like what?” Hvitserk sets the coffee on the nightstand as he snaps at her before he could bite it back. He knew what she meant. Erika’s long ranging sigh reminds him of Aslaug. How tenderly her hands would wrap around him even though they were truly tainted with alcohol perfuming off her breath. 

“I’ve been your agent for years Hvitserk. We go through this every time you find a girl. This oen is by far the worst. She doesn’t care about you. Look at all that work you did for her yesterday. The pendant you bought her. The work you’ve put into her books! You even pick up all the food she eats. She won’t go outside of her house and you still expect that she’ll suddenly become this fat trophy wife on your arm.” 

“Just because she’s fat don’t--” 

“It isn’t about the fat, Hvitserk.  How many times does she have to show you, or tell you for you to get the picture through your stupid head, huh? She doesn’t want you! And you have the balls to call me a fucking accident.” 

“Erika--” 

She leaps up from her chair. Hvitserk sucks in a hard breath and tries to find sense through the nonsense, looking through his phone. Erika was right. You hadn’t sent a message. Not in his texts, not on his social media. More egregiously, he spots a new post. Ericka’s hands fold over his, pushing him back to sit on the bed. She slides over his thin hips and takes a seat on his empty lap. It was painfully simple, painfully domestic, and painfully wrong.

“Let me tell you what I’ve learned in forty years,” Erika whispered in his ear. Her thin lips move, gliding like butter in his ear. “If someone doesn’t want you, there’s nothing you can do to change that.” Her fingers comb through his hair, like slimy tendrils. “But I’m here.” 

Hvitserk tips his head nack, gazing at the ceiling. Her palm caresses his scruffy jawline to drag his attention from the ceiling to her soft blue eyes, a painless depth, if only he would listen to her words. Hvitserk shifts her back on the bed, loitering around her waist with a supportive hand on the base of her back.

“I know you care ‘bout me. I just-- need some time, okay?” 

It doesn’t slip him that she’s scowling as he walks out of her home. There was someone he could count upon, when things were difficult, his phone buzzing in his palm reminded him of that. 

“Hey, Ivar.” 

Or, maybe not.

“You fucked her?” Ivar stopped chewing his pastry, ambling his head one way then another, laughing against himself. He took his mug of properly brewed coffee to his lips. Hvitserk regrets agreeing to meet him at the cafe. “What were you thinking sleeping with your agent?”

“I wasn’t thinking! I was drunk--” Hvitserk set his hand to his forehead. He has no appetite as he cycled through what he had done, searching out the moment that he called Erika. He fails to locate anything but quiet sobbing behind the neck of a beer bottle and a distant, squeamish feeling of fingers down his nape. “I think she took advantage of me.” 

Ivar sets down his cup of coffee, picking up a fork and knife as he leaned over the table, lips punctuating each word. 

“Yes, well, I am sure that will go over with your girlfriend well. I’m sorry, I slept with my skinny, well-established agent who has been wanting me to get rid of you. That bitch has been after you for years. What do you think she will do now? She won’t let you go.”

“She understands,” he reflects at the monochrome crowd. His plate is full but has gone cold with his lack of appetite. Normally, this was the place he came with his brother to binge breakfast and muse about women. Ubbe wouldn’t care about his issues: he never had time for anyone but himself. Not really. Ivar scoffed, gazing into the foot traffic flitting by their cafe. 

“Tch, I’m sure she does. She will probably break up with you.” 

He bobbed his head.

“I think she already has.” 

A normal man would come to beg. 

But Hvitserk draws in the deep quiet of the park. With only the barks of dogs, the giggles of children, and the occasional frequency from couples watching movies in the park, it’s a place of solace by the small pond. 

He starts with an outline of Xiao’s small face. It’s a rough outline, budding and ready to be kissed with by watercolours. Soft pinks like petals of peonies droop in his photo. He must have blended this shade wrong. Line after line that he sweeps, he weeps. His phone jingles in his pocket and his heart tightens around his chest like a straight jacket to someone in an insane asylum. He must be going crazy-- if he too can no longer paint.

“Where are you?!” you boom on the other end of the line. Hvitserk fumbles his phone, suckling in a breath. Had Ivar told you? No, his brother wouldn’t. Not Ivar. He was never a gossiper. 

“In-- in the park?” 

“What has gotten into you? You could have at least texted me to tell me you were okay. I was worried sick!” 

You? Worried sick? This wasn’t the you from yesterday. The one that pelted out how selfish he was for craving intimacy. The one that told him that all he wanted was to sexualize you. As if he were some sixty year old pervert with a camera in hand to click a picture of under your beautiful pastel skirts. Hvitserk sets the brushes into his cup of water and sets aside Xiao’s painting to dry.

“Hvitserk!” 

“I’m here,” he blurts out. “I didn’t think you’d care. You didn’t call.” 

“Like I didn’t I call you all night.” 

Something cracks, deep in his belly. With all the days of work he’d done for you and you alone, he forgot himself in the mix. He jerked his phone back, frantically looking at his phone app. No recent calls meant what they meant. When he finds nothing, it only thrusts him into a further rage. 

“Bullshit,” he belts out. “You didn’t. You didn’t care about me last night. You never fuckin’ do.” 

“Hvit--” he turns off his phone. There was a sliver of a moment in which he regrets that on the basis of last night. Maybe you rejected him, but he wasn’t an idiot. A man simply didn’t cheat on his girlfriend because she said no. 

He packs up his bag and heads toward the football field. It’s time to play football.

He smashes Ubbe on the field. If he wasn’t at peace with being an illustrator, maybe he could have been a ballplayer. Flipping the ball from foot to foot with Ubbe on his trailing his tail was fun, but watching him try and miss as he thwacked the ball on its net was even better. Unlike Ubbe’s well-proportioned body, he’s all long limbs and quick feet. Just the right combination to slip out of Ubbe’s grasp. Well, that was, until Ubbe tackled his ass onto the blades of grass, sending the both of them rolling through the grasp.

“Bro, really?!” Hvitserk laughs, dropping back onto the grass. The skid marks on his clothes would be unreal. 

“If I can’t catch you,” Ubbe heaves, digging his hand into his pocket. He finds his phone there, vibrating with messages from Torvi: probably. Hvitserk shoves his arms behind his neck, drawing out breath after ragged breath. 

“Wanna go eat?” 

“Na,” Ubbe shoves himself onto your feet. “Your girl is here.”

His what? Ubbe rushes off. A sinking feeling came over his clammy hands. He opens his mouth to beg him not to go, to take him along with like he used to as a child. He’s terrible at making up and hours ago, he’d hung up on you. His lips press together, soothing himself with the false pretense that-- no, it would be fine. If you didn’t apologize, perhaps neither would he. 

He finds you on the other side of the soccer field, fashioning his favorite sundress. There’s something glamorous about its corset bodice and its draped sleeves that left him breathless. He wills down his terrible arousal, drawn to the pendant he bought you nestled between your large breasts. You wait for him by his things, pulling the rim of a broad pale hat and looking down at beautiful chunky nude heels. 

You’re beautiful and terrifying all in one. He regains himself enough to make his legs solidify from the liquidy mass they were seconds ago. He might feel much like a newborn calf falling over himself to get his things, but perhaps he looked better than he felt. Women like sweaty, stupid men, right?

“What are you doing here?” he picks up his things. “I thought you didn’t like to be seen in public.”

“You hung up on me,” you hold his tablet flush against your dress and offer it out to him. He takes it and secures it back in his bag. “I had to come to find you.” 

“Yeah? I’ll bet.” Hvitserk wills down the painful throbbing behind his joggers, pulling his bag to obscure the pain he was in. The sooner he went home, the sooner he could jerk himself off without the overwhelming guilt of being, as he was, a whore. Why couldn’t he stay mad? He wanted to stay mad! “You look... nice. Never seen you looking so nice. What’s the occasion?” 

“You like it?” You pull out the skirt and stop to do a twirl that he curses himself for stopping for. Normally, his girl wouldn’t even go outside. Who was this? He’s aware of others watching-- the fat girl in a flashy dress. “I wore it for you.”

“Yeah, I do.” He moistens his lips, his voice raspy and thick. “Looks like an angel.” 

“Does that mean you’ll come back home?” You reach out for him. Your soft hands winding around his well-corded arm. He realizes then, the confidence in which you carried yourself masked the desperation in your hands. They trembled over his bicep. “I’ll be good, I promise I won’t yell at you again like that. I wouldn’t even be mad if you-- you found someone else to fuck. I know you-- I know you need it. If you can’t get it from me, I can wait on the side. As long as you’re not in love.”

“Hey,” he softened, settling his hand atop of yours. He stops midstep, turning on his high tops on the sidewalk. He takes your hands and listens waits for your outpouring of emotion. Traffic passes by him. They speak in hushed whispers. “Hey, hey, hey. Baby girl wait-- that’s not -- what are you talking about?”

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that but you were pushing and pushing and wouldn’t stop! I didn’t know what to do. I want to have sex with you,” you squeeze his fingertips. “But you don’t know what it’s like to be fat, old virgin.” 

He was trying to listen. He really was. The moment you spoke that word: that v-word, his mind went blank and numb. You’re still talking long after he’s stopped listening. Hvitserk sucks in a breath: it sends him into a flurry, pursuing the bone of your virginity long after you’ve stopped talking.

“What do you--” his lips twitch, drawing in a smile. “--mean a virgin?” 

“I haven’t had sex-- I… I wanted to--” 

His girl-- a virgin. He wants to smile, if not for the knowledge of the other night, waking up in Erika’s itchy sheets. Hvitserk knows that he has to tell you, he only doesn’t know how. You’re talking again. 

“What did you say?” he asks. 

“I want you to do it,” you answer. “Right now. Just forgive me.” 

He about drops, a moistness coming over his mouth that he can’t-- exactly-- help. His palms feel just as hot, sweating as he pulls them free from yours. Clearing his throat, he slips his hand against the small of your back. 

“Na, let’s… let’s take it easy. We’ll talk ‘bout it later.” 

He wants that virginity. 

But logically, oh woe is he, he knows it’s not really right to take someone’s virginity if they’re not all there. You’re not all there because you don’t know of that night. It’s like, consent, right? Bad consent was just jerking your ankle like some Viking and dragging you into bed with him. If he was going to do it, he told himself, you had to know what he’d done. 

It was a slip-up. 

Hvitserk finished another drawing for his new book independent of your input. It was a children’s book about good bodies-- because as he looked at your good body, he was reminded of Ericka’s cruel words. He wanted to do better for lil kids.

“Hvitserk, your phone is ringing,” you said pointedly from across the room where you sat like a madwoman. Your frantic papers sat nestled around a basket of shared chicken he made for lunch. 

“Huh?” Tapping over, he recognizes Erika’s photo, planting a kiss on his cheek on his first big break. She had been the first one to really believe in him. It was a long time ago now, he reminds himself to change that to something more… suitable after last night. He gestures his fingers at you. “Thanks, baby girl.”

He answers the phone. The moment he does, he hears Erika’s flat voice snaking into a hiss. It’s a noise that he hasn’t heard. Not in all his years of having her as his patient agent. 

“You’re with her, aren’t you?” 

“No, I’m uh-- with Ubbe.” He throws you a glance. You tilt your head, he shakes his, and that’s the terrible loneliness of holding a secret. “Erika--” Hvitserk sighs, parting his lips to talk. She shushes him with such severity that he thinks she’s trying to lop his head off, too. 

“Break it off.” 

“What?”

He steps outside and leans against the cold metal door separating the high-rise apartments from, well, the outside world. He expects to see her standing out there. All he finds are the many cars parked on the street and the stillness of movement. It’s too quiet. The whistle of the wind through the street chills him. 

“I know you’re with her. I can tell her for you if you’d like.” 

“No. Don’t--” Hvitserk sighs, searching for the words in the silence. “I don’t think you understand. We worked through it.” 

She laughs something from deep in her belly at him.

“I wasn’t asking. Either you do it— or I’ll make you do it. You obviously don’t know what’s best for yourself. Why else are you fucking around with some--” He collapses on the stairs, cradling the phone to his ear as she goes on. “Don’t think I won’t expose her for what she is. A thief.”

“She’s never-- Why the fuck are you doing this?”

“You told me you would take care of it. Something you’ve failed to do-- I should have known you couldn’t do it. ”

“If this shit is about yesterday--” 

“I’ll give you one more chance to break it off if you come over tonight.” 

“Are you blackmailing me?” There’s a pause on the other line. Then a chuckle. A long winded, painful chuckle. He should have known better. That night-- calling it an accident wasn’t exactly tolerable for a woman like Erika. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could be easily ignored.

“If that’s what I have to do.” 

 He chokes out a sob. Ivar was right. She wasn’t going to let him go.

“Fuckin’-- fuckin’ fine.” 

@punkrocknpearls​ @flowers-in-your-hayr @tephi101 @alicedopey​ @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm @superwolfchild-fan @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie

[theshadowsong]

Ordinary evening

Yes I wrote something stupid xD My OC Diya is the assistant of Archibald and clearly annoyed of his behavior lol (with a fluffy ending)

I really tried to translate all the names of people and places right, because they differ from the German version. Sorry when something is wrong though

It was a typical ordinary evening in Clairdelune and Archibald was once again celebrating one of his parties. People of the nobility, especially of the Illusionists and the Web gathered, laughed artificially, danced and drank. And none of them wasted even a thought that someone might want to concentrate here.

Wearing a simple purple dress, Diya sat in one of the many side rooms of the mansion, trying to think. Her long hair, lighter on top than underneath, fell silky smooth into her face. Annoyed, she wiped a strand out of her field of vision and immediately regretted it a moment later. As soon as she touched her hair, it was electrified by the cold, dry air of the pole. Even the best illusion couldn‘t change that, her hair had always been very sensitive.

„Ah the little assistant.“ Diya looked up from her notes and groaned inwardly. Standing before her was the director of the Nibelungen. One of the most unpleasant people she had ever met. She tried to ignore the disparaging tone and put on a fake smile.

„What can I do for you?“ She couldn‘t help but sound a little annoyed, especially since the director had been getting on her nerves terribly for quite a while.

„Regarding the request, I assume the Ambassador has already been informed?“

Diya raised an eyebrow, „Your application has only been on file for two days, Director.“

„It is of the utmost importance that...“

„I will present the application to the Ambassador after I read it.“ She interrupted him, conspicuously emphasizing the word „after.“

The man opposite her gasped indignantly.

„I see manners have not been taught to you in any case, cook.“ Dyia looked skeptically at the director. Indeed she had been a cook before becoming Archibald‘s assistant, but she was such a miserable cook that it almost bordered on poisoning. In a way, the ambassador had probably saved her from the arduous life of a servant.

It was also to be expected that the nobility of the Pole was not very enthusiastic about showing a servant a certain amount of respect. Even if she was officially no longer one. In addition, she wasn‘t even from the Pole. Which is also not entirely true, because she was indeed born here. But because of the unequal darker skin tone, the Polians were all pale and light blond, with the sandy brown hair and the green eyes, everybody noticed immediately that she was of a different descent. Her mother came from Al Ondaltus, as a visitor to Pol. From her, she also had her family power, which she hid as well as she could.

Diya could sense and alter the emotions of others, which might not be a popular gift at the Pole. Her father had been a page who died before she was born. Her mother disappeared. But left her in the care of a nasty old woman who liked nothing better than to mend old socks over a bottle of whiskey.

„Are you being molested?“ Archibald‘s blond curly head appeared in the doorway. He was beaming as usual. His gaze lingered on the director, who grimaced.

„You should control your employees better, I already made a request two days ago...“ Archibald‘s bright laughter interrupted him and Diya just hoped for this conversation to end soon. The director of the Nibelungen scowled even more.

„But, but... do you know how many applications and documents come in here every day, I guess you‘ll have to be patient.“ Archibald fluted cheerfully and winked at Diya.

She had nothing to add.

Outraged, the director whirled around and stormed out of the room.

„Well that was interesting.“

„No it wasn‘t.“ Diya‘s headache increased, as it always does when there are too many people in one spot. Too many feelings all at once. Add to that the ever-present sensations of the family spirit she was always aware of. She would have to leave the pole just to escape Farouk‘s confused aura.

„You should really have some fun for once,“ Archibald laughed, eyeing himself over the table of documents, his breath sweet, having already had a drink or two.

„And who’s going to do all your work then?“ Diya gave the ambassador a playfully reproachful look. „Apart from that, neither the alcohol nor the presence of all these people help with my headache.“

Archibald was one of the few who knew about her powers. Diya tried to tune them out as much as possible. Diving into the feelings of others was already very personal, but on the other hand, it wasn‘t equally easy to read everyone. Many hid their true feelings from themselves, others were so open that they practically threw their feelings in her face.

Archibald‘s smile became more tentative, and he straightened up again.

„At least promise me to eat something.“ Out of nowhere, probably having held it in his hand all along, he whipped out a plate of cake.

„Ah? I guess cake counts as a full meal with you guys, huh?“ teased Diya, accepting the plate. „Sure, especially with strawberries.“

They heard some groping footsteps and then a high-pitched, definitely drunk voice of a woman, „Ohh Archi!!? Where are you?“

„Well, I’m being summoned.“ The one addressed raised his hat and gave a deliberately exaggerated bow to his assistant, who just rolled her eyes and poured herself a glass of water.

A few hours passed until the people slowly dwindled and Diya‘s headache disappeared. Sighing, she got up, the music had been off for a while, instead the sound of a piano key kept repeating.

Diya walked down a corridor past a small fountain, which she was convinced was an illusion. In the room she entered afterwards, there were several sofas, armchairs and tables. There was also a piano on which a figure was playing the same key, half lying down.

Archibald‘s curls were even more tangled than usual and his face was slightly red.

„Archibald?“

He didn‘t respond at all.

Diya looked at him for a few seconds, then sat down next to him.

„Archibald, look at me.“ gingerly, she lifted his chin and forced him to look her in the face. „Dude how much did you drink?“ reproachfully, she looked at the ambassador, but the addressed one only laughed inanely and tried to stand up. He failed miserably, staggered and almost fell down if Diya had not supported him. Without thinking about whether he might have been too heavy to be carried by his assistant, he leaned his entire weight against her.

„Thisss is... well, not... how late isss it...?“ he slurred, laughing again.

„To late.“ hissed Diya, who had to muster all her concentration not to fall down. With difficulty, she hoisted him onto a sofa, where he plopped down at an odd angle. He was still giggling stupidly to himself. She couldn‘t possibly leave him alone like that.

„You’re really making more work for me than necessary,“ she reprimanded Archibald, settling down on the sofa next to him. Archibald had stopped giggling and looked at her with wide eyes. „Are you mad at me?“

Surprised, she looked at him, sounding seriously concerned. The way he was lying next to her on the sofa, he almost seemed like a child.  „No, of course not.“

Diya was just dog-tired, nevertheless she would wait until Archibald fell asleep. She grabbed a book from the side table and started flipping through it randomly, she was way too tired to concentrate.

After 10 minutes of nursing, she thought he had fallen asleep, but suddenly he put his head on her lap. Irritated, she looked at the ambassador, with his worn clothes, unshaven face and tangled hair, he had more similarities with a bum than with a nobleman. Still, one could not help but find him attractive. Sighing, Diya closed the book and put it aside.

Gently, she placed her hand on his head. She would not find sleep in that position, but Archibald was already blissfully slumbering. Her fingers played with the surprisingly soft curls. A little helplessly, she shook her head.

„Idiot.“ whispered Diya, but could not hide a smile.

[chai-ssi-latte]

Prompt 10

REQUESTED - Chris Evans

33. “Disgusting. Kitchen counters, really?”  38. “Red, blue, or black?”

About: You had a nude scene in a film. Surprisingly, Chris was not jealous. Not at all.

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WARNING: language. :) mentions of sex

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"Disgusting. Kitchen counters, really?” Chris muttered to himself, watching the scene before him. His best buddy, Dodger, was on his lap already sleeping.

You passed by your husband who’s currently watching a nude scene you did for your movie. “My god, Chris.” you said, laughing while walking away. You didn’t miss the wink he sent.

After drinking your water, you were about to go to Chris to join him when you heard moans. Your moans. You slapped a hand on your forehead before sitting down, deciding to stay in the dining area for a while.

“Jesus...” you muttered. It’s like Chris has turned the volume louder for you to hear. There were grunts and moans that are not only coming from you but from your co-star as well. You wanted to go out there and tell Chris to lower down the volume but you don’t have the guts to see yourself on that tv. 

“Fuck me.” 

It came from the movie but it was your voice. You can feel the heat on your face and you grabbed the glass again to drink some water. 

“What the hell, Chris.” You know you can just shout at him and tell him to stop but for some reason, you can’t. You’re still too embarrassed. Why does he have to watch that movie anyway? And why does your timing sucks that you went down during that scene?

“Fuck!”

And the moans stopped, only heavy breathing. You drank water again and made your way out of the kitchen. 

“Took you long enough.” Chris was grinning when you sat next to him.

You narrowed your eyes then rolled it. You definitely knew he did that on purpose.

“That was hot.” He said, which caught you off guard. “I was a little jealous but... I know how those scenes made.”

“You shouldn’t be jealous.”

“I’m not.” Chris clarified. “I’ve experienced the real thing.” 

You threw a pillow at him, waking up Dodger accidentally. The dog whined and got off from Chris’ lap. Your husband give Dodger a pat on the head and the dog ran upstairs. You and Chris ended up watching the movie together, hiding your face on his chest when another sex scene of yours came on. 

“How many sex scene does this movie has, woman.” You just slapped Chris’ chest in response.

The next morning, you woke up earlier than Chris, which isn’t a surprise. Your two-year old daughter cried in the middle of the night and your husband is the one that tended her. 

You were cooking breakfast when Chris came down with your daughter on his arms. “Did she wake you up?” You asked, confused. You didn’t hear a cry.

“No, I did.” Chris said as if it’s not a big deal. You gave him a smack making him let out a loud laugh.

“Hi baby.” You took the child from Chris. She has Chris’ blue eyes and long lashes and the more she grew the more you see a female version of Chris on her.

“I’m gonna prepare the food.”

Your daughter was happily dancing to ‘Under the sea’ when your phone beeped with a notification. It was from instagram and Chris tagged you in a photo. Your mouth dropped at what you saw.

You shook your head, stifling a laughter as you type your comment. How dare he? But you tapped the photo twice anyway. He’s definitely gonna get it tonight. Definitely.

With your daughter on your arms, you walked into the dining. You stare at Chris for a while and he did the same. Your husband’s brows rose. “Red, blue, or black?” you asked, dropping a wink.

“Red.” he answered, his voice deeper than usual.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Family Roadtrip

Sam Winchester x Reader

Words: 1783

Masterlist

Summary: With your vampire foes vanquished, you and Makayla adjust to life with your new family. 

Notes: You didn’t really think I was finished with Makayla’s story did you?! This imagine is a bit shorter and may seem like a filler, but I really wanted to do something sweet and fun-loving after four parts of drama. I hope you enjoy and are excited to see more of the Makayla Chronicles!

Want more Supernatural? Find it HERE

-

You peaked around the corner carefully, motioning to Sam that it was safe to follow. He took the lead, keeping his weapon low. The two of you crept silently around the dark bunker. Noises kept your nerves on edge, making you jump at every rustling paper or creaking floorboard. 

A small form darted past the doorway and you quickly went after it. 

“Y/N, wait!” Sam called, trying to keep up with you as you sprinted into the library. You stopped so suddenly that he almost ran into you. 

“Not good.” You uttered, having lost your target. You had led yourself into a trap. A voice boomed throughout the room.

“Now!” 

The light switched on and Dean lunged out from behind a shelf. Makayla crawled out from beneath the desk and the two mercilessly unleashed the power of their water guns upon the two of you. They didn’t stop until you and Sam were soaked. 

“Okay, okay, you win!” Sam shouted over Dean and Makayla’s cheers of victory. Despite your defeat, you and Sam couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Makayla and Uncle Dean three-” Dean beamed. 

“Mommy and Daddy zero!” The two high-fived and stuck their tongues out on you. Sam eyed his brother. 

“I don’t like how much influence you have on her.” He chuckled. Dean shrugged and Sam shook out his hair right by his face. Then he looked at Makayla. “You know what I could use right now?” He motioned for her to come closer. “A great big bear hug!” 

Makayla squealed as she tried to get away, but Sam was quick to catch her. He engulfed her in a soaking wet hug until she seemed like she’d burst from laughter. Dean smirked, bringing you all towels to dry off. 

It had been a slow week. No hunts, no demons, no impending doom. Mary was gone, having revealed her connections with the British Men of Letters. It was still a sore subject for the boys so you and Makayla decided to come up with some games to distract them. She teamed up with her uncle and you teamed up with Sam. 

You were all sitting down for lunch when Makayla had a sudden outburst of enthusiasm. 

“I want to go on a road trip.” She exclaimed. “A big family road trip.” You smiled at her excitement. 

“Where do you want to go, sweetie?” 

“Anywhere!” She giggled. She started tugging on the sleeve of Sam’s flannel. “Can we go on a road trip daddy? Can we? Can we? Can we?” Sam laughed and pulled her into his lap. 

“I don’t really see why not.” He looked at you and his brother. “What do you say, guys?” Dean shrugged, giving his niece a smile. 

“It’s not like we’ve had a case in a while and with mom gone…” He trailed off, trying not to let his frustration show. You jumped in. 

“I think it’s a great idea.” You could use a little time out of the bunker. Besides, Makayla had only ever really traveled because of hunting. It would be good for her to just have fun with her family. Hell, it would be good for all of you. 

“It’s settled then.” Sam concluded with a grin, bouncing Makayla on his knee. “Go help your mom pack and Dean and I will make a plan.” 

His daughter jumped down from his lap and hurried off to her room. You gave Sam a kiss on the cheek before following her to make sure she didn’t pack a bunch of snacks instead of clothes. Sam watched you leave with a small smile. 

“Things have been going pretty well between you too, huh?” Dean said, noticing his brother’s puppy-love look. Sam broke his gaze and turned to Dean. 

“Yeah.” He sighed happily. “Yeah, they have.” He drank the rest of his coffee. “You know, it’s like nothing has changed and everything has changed at the same time. Y/N is back, and we’re back together, but it’s so much more than it was before.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” Sam fell quiet, trying to sift through his own thoughts. His feelings for you weren’t the same anymore and it wasn’t just because you were the mother of his only daughter. It was like all of his feelings for you from all those years ago had not only resurfaced, but had grown to be so much more. Like he wanted something more.

-

Makayla watched the road ahead with excited eyes. You had been on the road for about an hour and she was still practically bouncing in her seat. Sam had actually insisted on sitting in the back with her, so you were in the passenger seat while Dean drove. 

The plan was to hit a few places in Nebraska and then circle down into Colorado to Estes park. You would be camping instead of renting motel rooms, which would definitely be interesting, but Kayla begged and begged to sleep under the stars like they did in the Western movies Dean had gotten her into. 

The further up into Western Nebraska you got, the more you tried to clear your mind of monsters and demons. This weekend was for you to spend real, quality time with Sam and Dean and for Makayla to have a normal childhood adventure. 

“Daddy look!” Kayla exclaimed, pointing out her window at the dark shapes roaming the fields. The animals seemed to watch as the impala drove by. 

“Those are called pronghorns.” Sam grinned at her awestruck expression. The fact that she still had that innocent fascination with the world made his heart swell. He wanted her to hold onto that forever. 

You’d be arriving at Toadstool soon, your first camping stop. The sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, painting the clouds pink and orange. Nebraska may not have a whole lot in it, but damn it had good sunsets. You didn’t notice, but Sam’s gaze had shifted from your daughter to you. Seven years since he had met you and you still took his breath away. 

You finally turned your head, seeing him in the rearview mirror. The way he was smiling made your heart stop for a moment. It scared you how much you loved him. What if you messed up again? What if he couldn’t forgive you? What if he couldn’t love you because of what you did before? You wouldn’t blame him, of course. 

Once you reached Toadstool Geological Park, Sam helped you set up the tent while Dean grabbed the cooler and the snacks. When Makayla started running towards the trail, Sam took a few strides with his long legs to catch her. 

“It’s too late to go hiking right now, Kayla.” He explained gently. “We’re going to go in the morning when we can see everything better.” 

“I still don’t really get the appeal of it.” Dean muttered. “Just a bunch of rocks.” 

“It’s a ‘natural wonder’, Dean.” You snarked. You gave him a flashy smile. “Just like me.” Dean narrowed his eyes. 

“The only thing you are is natural pain in my ass.” 

“Dean.” Sam scolded, motioning to the young child in his arms. 

“Yeah, that’s a bad word you son-of-a-bitch.” Makayla exclaimed. 

“Makayla!” You gasped. You glared at her uncle. “Dammit Dean!”

“How do you know it was me? You curse like a sailor!”

“Guys, it doesn’t matter who taught her what.” Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Can we just try and make sure it’s not a regular thing?” You both nodded in agreement, still slightly glowering at each other. 

You started a fire and broke open the hot dogs. You had bought plenty of campfire foods, including everything that was needed to make smores. You wanted this to feel as postcard perfect as possible for Kayla. No monsters, no villains, no impending doom. Just a family around the campfire with marshmallows and chocolate and laughter. 

“You really went all out for this,” Sam noted, motioning to the array of fireside foods. He handed you a nice cold beer and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“I want this trip to be everything hunter’s don’t get.” You sighed. “Not just for her, but for us.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I know things are rough for you guys right now and having a kid around isn’t making that easier-”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Sam shifted so that he was facing you, holding your face in his hands. “You and Kayla… you’ve changed my life in so many ways. And Dean’s. You give us a purpose that isn’t always dark and bloody. You gave me life again.” You smiled, feeling tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“I never thought about it like that.” You stood on your tiptoes so you could reach his lips for a sweet and devoted kiss. 

-

Dean had decided that he would sleep in the impala, so cramped in the little tent was you, Makayla, and the 6’4” mountain that was trying desperately not to squish both of you. Makayla was already asleep, huddled in between the two of you with her head resting on Sam’s chest. His arm was outstretched so it was both holding her and his hand could rest on your shoulder. You tangled your fingers with his, looking at him over Kayla’s sleeping form. 

“I’d say this trip has been successful so far.” You whispered. Sam nodded. 

“We all needed this. A chance to get away from everything with Lucifer and hunting… and mom.” His smile faltered and you squeezed his hand supportively. 

“She’ll come around. Mary is just…” You trailed off, trying to figure out the right word. 

“Complicated?” Sam finished solemnly. 

“Yeah.” You blew out a breath. For some strange reason, you felt connected to Mary Winchester. Like you were cut from the same bloody and worn out cloth. Feeling Sam’s eyes on you, you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. “We should get some sleep. The Tasmanian devil over here is gonna keep us on our toes on this hike tomorrow.” You motioned to Kayla with a stifled laugh. Looking back at him, your expression was serious, but warm and bright at the same time. “I love you, Sam.” 

“I love you too.” He gently ran his thumb over your bottom lip, wishing he could kiss you, but not wanting to wake Makayla. 

As your eyes closed your breathing steadied, Sam felt so many emotions rising in his chest, seizing his heart and clearing his mind. In that moment, he knew more than ever before, what he wanted. 

He wanted to marry you. 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks Supernatural: @desimarie12; @deandreamernp; @vicmc624; @halesandy; @livshaes; @d-whinchestergirl87; @mrspeacem1nusone​ Sam Winchester: @theamuz; @adeliness​ Makayla Series: @rhiannon-the-troublemaker​; @hoboal87​

[stumacherstan]

Hey if youre still taking monster requests, can we get a orc x reader where the reader is either a kumiho, a nixie, or a naga? Sorry if not and thank you if you can!

Orc x naga!Reader One-shot:

The forest was beautiful was as always. The lights scattered in between the trees. The birds were singing their melody to soothe any wandered and the inhabitants of the land. The sweet smell of trees and and suffocating pollin.

A loud booming of a newcomer disrupted the peace. The tall orc panted as he was running through the trees, as if he was escaping something. Orcs are usually strong and feared, hardly anyone tries to attack them. However if a group of people are rallied up, people tend to gang up. And unfortunately Orc’s tusks sell high in black markets.

The muscular orc, Wraog, was trying to lose the people behind him. He was just trying to get the next closest village for his people who need a certain plant to heal the ongoing sickness that was going on. He was already tired of 3 days of walking and didn’t have the strength to fight off a group of mages. Wraog was slowly getting lost himself, forgetting trees and saw himself trapped between wilderness and a cave.

“You’re trapped now Orc, we can either do this the easy way or the hard way.” A sleazy voice called out to him, almost too smug for comfort.

“It doesn’t matter really, we’ll try to make it painless. Choose the easy way.” Another light aired voice, as if they weren’t going to saw off his tusks and cut his hair.

Wraog saw 3 other people emerge and he didn’t know how big the cave was. He quickly grabbed his dagger and got into a fighting position. “You can try it, but I won’t go down without a fight.”

“Ah so the hard way it is, I was hoping for this. I was getting bored of easy targets.” The once again annoying sleazy voice said.

Meanwhile, you were napping in your cave. A whole day of picking herbs for your tea and drinking in the sunlight on top of your cave. It was a productive day and you fed a couple days ago. Life was great. Peace was yours. Then it wasn’t.

You felt the ground beneath you tremor which woke you up from your slumber. You groaned and strained your ears to detect anything. You heard voices and curiosity was caught on the hook. You slowly slithered out, but not enough to be seen, to see what was going on. You cringed at the whole commotion, lowlife hunters ganging up on another victim. You hated weaklings that felt hunting in numbers were better.

You saw the whole fight go down and the orc was slowly losing no matter how much he countered. You normally didn’t care too much about others, as you only had to take care of yourself to survive. But they were on your territory and you had time to spare.

You quickly striked out and grabbed one with your tail and slammed them down on the dirt. You grabbed one that was on the orc’s back and bit into his arm, ejecting some venom that was gonna hurt for weeks. “You’re all dissssturbing my sssssleep!” You hissed out.

“Holy shit, a naga. We’re in luck! Get them!”

However they were outnumbered by the strength of an awoken naga and an orc. You both quickly defeated them. They had to run off with their numbers dwindled.

You spit on the dead and shook your head. “I hate mages. Little shitheadssss.” You looked up at the slightly beat up Orc. “I don’t really care in particular, but are you okay?”

Wraog’s legs shook and he fell onto the floor, clearly tired. As any normal being would after trying to fight off five mages by themselves.

“Hey! Get up!!” You shouted at him. You poked his side and groaned. “I guess I’ll take care of you,” you grumbled. You heaved and grabbed him by the legs, you started trudging in your cave. “By the stars, you’re so,,, heavy!”

You finally got him inside and wiped your forehead if any sweat. You got a rag and wet it with well water and cleaned his dirtied faced, rinsed the rag in a bucket, and soaked it in clean water once again. “You poor thing, never seen a orc almost be defeated.” You uttered softly as you placed the wet rag on his forehead.

You quickly cleaned up any of his wounds and fed the starving fire in your cave. You checked him once again just to make sure there wasn’t any other harm done and went into your corner of bedding to pick out a warm blanket to put over him. “Sleep well big one.”

Wraog’s purple eyes burst open. A wonderful smell of stew lowed into his nostrils like a sweet dance. He groaned as he sat up. “Where am I?” The slightly moist rag fell onto his lap, he picked it up and inspected it.

“A ssssimple thank you would ssssuffice,” you answered. You stirred the cauldron and added little pinches of seasoning. It was already done but you were adding finishing touches.

“Oh, you’re the one who helped me.” His eyes traveled down to your tail and widened in surprises. Usually Nagas were selfish creatures and kept to themselves. “Thank you very much, I’m Wraog.”

“I’m (Y/N).” You got out a bowl. “It was really no problem, someone had to teach those poachers a lesson at some point.” You poured the stew into a bowl and handed it to him as well as a glass of water.

He sloppily smiled at you, tusks in the way and all, and grabbed the bowl and glass. “I very much appreciate this.” He slowly ate since he wanted to savor it.

“May I asssk why you were in the foressst?”

“I was trying to get to the next village as mine own has been struck by a sickness. I don’t know the herbs name but I have the notes as to what it is, I was seeking help before I got ambushed.” Wraog wiped his mouth of any excess. “This is really good.”

It wasn’t your place, and you didn’t really care about his people. But you kept getting reeled in. “How bad is the illness?” You noted that he complimented your food. A very respectful orc.

“None of the witch doctors can help without the herb. It’s slowly spreading and getting worse. I hate seeing my people get quarantined.” Wraog looked down. “I hope I can heal soon so I can stop bothering me. You’ve done so much for me already.”

like most nagas, you couldn’t really express emotions well. “Well that sssucksss, let me see your list. Maybe I could be of sssome assssitance sssso you can leave ssssooner. Let me see your notessss.” You stuck out your hand patiently.

Wraog’s eyes lit up like a puppy, excited and cute. “Really? This means so much, I’ll make sure to never bother you again.” He dug his big hands into his pockets and pulled out a small black book. “It’s right here.” He flipped to the page and handed it to you.

You read through everything, your tails tip sticking around impatiently as you drank in the information. “I know what herb thisss isss, I don’t ussse it often unlessss I’m ssssick as well. A very good rememdy that helps. I have ssssome and know where to fetch ssssome more.” You glanced at him then looked away. “You can sssstay here, don’t make too much of a messss.”

“Isn’t it too dark by now? Shouldn’t you also rest after fighting?” Wraog cocked his head like a concerned dog. “Don’t overwhelm yourself.”

Your stomach fluttered but you clicked your tongue in annoyance as to not show your true feelings. “Then I’ll go out in the morning if that’ll ssssoothe you, I don’t want you messsing up your ssstitchessss like the big oaf you are.” You quickly served yourself and ate it delicately.

Wraog wasn’t use to silence, he was use to boasting and chatters filling up the air. He looked around your cave that was big enough for him and you. “Very homey. Suits you.”

You raised an eyebrow. Ah orcs, always the talkative ones. “Thank you.”

Wraog nervously chewed on his lip, he hated awkward silences. He could talk on forever. “Your scales are also very beautiful! Hard to believe you live alone with your beauty.” The word vomit came out and his green face exploded into a darker shade.

Your tail stopped rattling and your ears once again heated up. You coughed awkwardly, trying to make sense of the scene. “I, I choose to live alone. Male nagassss are too ignorant for my liking. No point of mating with sssomeone who I won’t enjoy ssspending time with. What about you? A mate?” You inquired, not because you wanted to pursue. It was just a curious thing seeing it was brought up.

“Ah I see, a beauty against the world. No wonder, I wouldn’t have expected you to be mateless but by choice makes more sense,” Wraog warmly smiled, “I don’t have a partner either. Haven’t found anyone specifically who’s peaked my interests.”

You decided to flirt a little, “I wouldn’t expect a handsome sssweet orc like you to be sssingle. I’m sure you have the ladiesss lining up.”

Wraog felt his heart beat a little faster. “Not normally or maybe Im oblivious to it.” He accidentally yawned, killing the mood.

“Well-“ You grabbed his empty bowl and cup, “I sssuppose it’s time for us to sleep. I gotta get up early to fetch your herbs. Rest well Wraog.” You coiled up in your comfy corner with pillows and blankets and fell asleep peacefully.

Wraog had a more difficulty falling asleep, he couldn’t help be marveled by you. A sweet beautiful naga out here by themselves? You were sweet and sour and it certainly peaked his interests. His eyes wandered all over your form till he himself fell asleep.

————————————————

The next morning, you stretched and cracked any stiff bones. You looked to see Wraog sleeping and smiled softly. You quietly slithered to him and looked at his face with deeper insight. You noticed how his look hair draped over him with delicacy, how he breathed heavily due to tusks being in the way, how sharp his tusks were, and how he just seemed at peace. Your hand swiftly caressed him before you giggled and left the cave by yourself with a basket.

You inhaled the sweet air and listened to the birds sing their song. You looked for the sweet purple and orange plant that could help save his village. You went by the river that held the most of the herb. You carefully picked them without cutting yourself on the prickly thorns at the bottom and laid it down in your basket. You repeated this action until your basket was full and made your own way home.

Wraog had woke up and sat up rather quickly when he saw you were gone. “They’ve gone out to get the herb, right.” He told himself. He tried to make himself busy as by making some breakfast, although he wasn’t sure what you liked or where most of your utensils were.

Still, Wraog tried his best. He carefully broke the eggs and beated the yolk and poured into the skillet. He added salt and pepper and left it to sit. He started on the small rations of the mysterious meat, he tried not to think about it. He cut it into pieces and mixed it with the eggs and folded the eggs with meat inside. Wraog was sure to add spices and although he was confident it tasted good, but it didn’t look appealing. Your food looked appealing and his looked like a mess.

He carefully scooped portions out in your bowl and his bowl. He poured water for both of your cups. Wraog decided to be cute and go outside and pick some bright (colored) flowers that matched your tail. He put in the middle of the table. “Damn, I’m stupid. I don’t know when they’re getting back.”

“I’m back?” You declared. You raised your eyebrow to the messy breakfast before you. “I see that you prepared food for the both of us, thank you.” You set your basket down and coiled up next to the table. “You worked really hard on this. I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do since you helped me so much.” Wraog’s face darkened a deep green as he felt his stomach flutter with butteries at your soft smile. “Those are enough for those of the sick, I should be thank you the most.”

“You can thank me again when I escort you out the forest. That’ll be the last thank you.”

“I don’t think I’ll need an escort. I can handle myself.” Although he secretly wants to spend more time with you.

“Do you even know how to get out of here?”

“Oh-“ Wraog felt even more embarrassed and probably looked like an idiot in front of you now. “No.”

“That’s why you need an escort you oaf.” Your words were not bitter, just playful. You started to eat and your eyes turned into slits at the taste. “This is amazing!”

“I tried my best, I’m glad you like it.” Wraog smiled with pride. “After all, you deserve the best.”

You hummed in acknowledgment as you continued to eat.

____

After breakfast was finished, you put the plates into a corner where you would wash them later. You grabbed a sun hat and bag full of water so you wouldn’t dehydrate on your small journey. “Do you have the strength to carry the basket all the way home?” You asked the orc who was standing outside your cave now.

“Yes, I’m fully rested now and you’ve taken care of you quite well, and fortunately I heal fast thanks to your herbs.”

You pursed your lips. “Okay give me a couple of more minutes.” You remembered how he said it took him three days to get where he was before he was ambushed and packed him a different bag for his own supplies so he can be okay for the trip. You hated seeming soft so you exited your cave and gently threw the bag at his feet. “Your supplies so you don’t die on the way back, your people depend on you.”

“You’re too kind to me.” Wraog couldn’t help but give you smooth forehead a smooch. “I’m glad I stumbled up on even if it was caused by those damn mages.”

Your face blossomed with color and you looked down so he couldn’t see your slitted eyes. “Whatever, let’s go.”

You led the way the whole time, you rarely leave the forest. Only leaving when you need specific supplies, but you usually take short cuts and use your speed to your advantage. Orcs aren’t as fast as nagas so you slowed down your pace for Wraog.

“You know, when I’m not running from mages. The scenery is very beautiful.” Wraog commented, once again hating the silence.

“I suppose it is, I never really took the time to stop and smell the flowers. I usually go wherever I’m headed without slowing down.”

“Fast paced life huh?”

“I guess I’m just use to do everything by myself and just keeping myself busy since I live alone that my set routine stops me from doing new things.”

“Doesn’t it get lonely?”

“Nagas are usually lonely creatures. Too territorial unless they have a mate or kids. So I guess you can say I’m use to it.”

“Well does it get boring?”

“I sleep away my boredom.” You paused. “I also read books and imagine myself as the character. It’s really nice.”

“Well, if you’d like, I can always stop by and hang out with you. I have a good sense of direction.”

“It took you three days to even get here, why would you do that just to see me?” You turned your head to look at him as you kept on slithering your way through.

Wraog shyly looked up at the sky, “You’ve really peaked my interest, and I think you’re really cute and interesting and kind. I wouldn’t mind traveling to see you.”

You turned your head back as your face flushed, “Well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I would like that. You’re kind too and cute as well.” You muttered the cute part although he heard you pretty clear.

As you guys chartered more, soon enough the clearing. The clearing showed the path of where Wraog was walking.

“Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye.”

“Not goodbye (Y/N), see you later.”

“Oh right! See you later.”

“I’ll see you soon.” Wraog bent down a little bit to peck your cheek. “Thank you once again for everything, maybe one day we could be more.”

Your eyes turned into slits once again and your ears burned. You closed your eyes and hugged him, taking in his scent so you could remember it until he came back. “Thank you for giving me a chance. See you soon.” You let go although it took him a little longer to let go of you.

Wraog waved as he started walking, and you watched him till he was nothing but a speck.

[frostsinth]

Li’un Ma Shkio - Pt. 8

Part ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, FIVE, SIX, & SEVEN

Karianna wakes in Unvar’s tent and wonders where he’s gone. Being alone for the first time in days, she contemplates her own emotions and feelings.

I have finished the last pages of this fic. Only two parts left to post. God I hope everyone likes the end! I’m going to miss these two a lot. Please be sure to like and comment, especially if you think you know what’s going to happen!

The sun dawned warm and bright the next morning yet the strange warmth I felt spreading through me as its light fell through the smoke hole at the top of the tent had nothing to do with it. I blinked sleepily, and my hand rose slowly to wipe at the corner of my eye. A few more blinks brought me back into the present, and I looked around to get my bearings back.

I winced in pain at the soreness in my shoulder, and rubbed at it gently with my opposite hand. I realized then that I was alone; the bed beside me was empty, as was the rest of the tent.

Nervous, I swung my legs off the side and eased to my feet. I noticed I was still dressed, though I found my new outfit much more comfortable than my last, but my boots were resting beside the bed.

Pulling them on, I looked around again, then noticed a basket on Unvar’s stump. In it were soft rolls and some jerky. Breakfast, I assumed, and took out a roll to nibble on as I slowly patrolled the inside of the tent. Part of me expected Unvar to return at any moment, so I waited patiently while I wandered. I found myself at the various crates, chests, and baskets lining the walls, and curiously opened the tiniest one I could find. I was shocked to find it full of pearls. Curious, I began moving through the chests, crates, and baskets, opening each cautiously.

There were lots of trinkets and treasures buried beneath the furs along the edges I soon discovered. I lifted the lid to a chest to see it filled with gold and silver pieces. Another small crate had jewels, including a long pearl necklace and several gold necklaces with huge gemstones. There were also silver cups, plates, and chalices, and then a smattering of various decorative weapons.

I wondered at the items for a while, even daring to pick a few things up and turn them over in my hands. I ran my hands through the coins; it was the most I had ever seen in my life. I traced one fingertip along the edge of the blades and wrapped my hands around their pommels. Imagined what it would be like to wield one. I even put a pearl and sapphire necklace around my neck. But it felt too gaudy and heavy, so I quickly took it off again and placed it back in its chest. I realized soon I had no real interest in anything amid the covered chests, crates, and baskets, and time still dragged slowly as I waited, my mind racing with thoughts. 

My skin tingled with a strange anticipation, and my heart raced in my chest. I burned to see Unvar again, the heat of the previous night still heavy on my thoughts. Part of me felt bad for drifting off to sleep; perhaps he had other things in mind for when we had returned.

I paused, running my hand through my hair. Shocked at my own thoughts. There was such a craving in the pit of my stomach. A hunger that seemed insatiable by the food I ate as I wandered the tent. I found my thoughts drifting to his hands, and I felt them caressing my body again. I touched my neck, and felt his tusks against my throat. I tried to push the thoughts away, remind myself that I was only here because I had to be; because I had promised to stay until Autumn. The thought of the fall reminded me of his plan to wed. I wondered what it would be like, being married to Unvar. Being able to stay curled up in his warmth on cold nights. Going with him to important meetings and maybe even helping him. Perhaps having him teach me to spare and fight as he did. Seeing him smile when I caught him staring at me. Bathing together in the cool waters where we had first met. I even found myself wondering what a half-human, half-Tlaloc would look like. I imagined a chubby little thing with tiny tusks and soft green skin...

Shaking my head of such thoughts, I looked around again. By now, the small basket of bread and meat was almost empty, and I had investigated every nook and cranny of the tent. Still, Unvar did not return. I put the last of the jerky in my pockets for later.

I could hear the bustling of the camp beyond, and the sunlight coming through the smoke hole was bright. Probably midday by now, or very close to that. I wrung my hands, debating what to do.

But the minutes ticked by so painfully slow with nothing to entertain me but my own circling thoughts. So I took a deep breath, brushed down my furs and adjusted my hair into a presentable state. Then I timidly approached the door.

When I first stepped out, I was assaulted by the brightness of the day and the loud ruckus of the camp inhabitants. I looked about nervously, but no one seemed to mind seeing me come out. There was no guard posted, no Tlaloc waiting or watching. No Unvar either though. Part of me had hoped he would be waiting just outside. And then he would see me, and I would get to see him smile...

Rubbing at my wounded shoulder again, I took a few more steps and dropped the flap behind me. Hopefully I could find Unvar amid the rabble. Part of me worried he would come back after I had left and panic upon finding me gone again. But I decided it was better than waiting around with nothing to do. I made a mental note to figure out if the Tlaloc had a written language. It would be better if he had left a note of some sort...

After a final moment of hesitation, I slowly ventured out, and began walking among the Tlaloc.

They raised their heads as I passed; a few gave great toothy grins, others dipped their heads or grunted in greeting. I recognized a few faces from the day before, and offered them timid little smiles.

Some attempted to speak to me, if only for a few words, but I could only smile apologetically in response. None moved as if to approach or follow me, simply continuing on with whatever they were doing as they acknowledged me.

So not a prisoner, I guessed. And although they seemed curious, they didn’t seem too surprised to see me either.

A loud bark had me spinning on my heel, and G’rook came bounding over. The big mutt bounced from paw to paw eagerly, his tail wagging so hard his whole body moved with it. His master followed behind, laughing at his eagerness. He gave me a toothy smile, nodding respectfully.

“Unvar?” I asked him hopefully, looking around to illustrate my question.

The Tlaloc snorted, gesturing unhelpfully with one hand. “Chu’na pal du denwe, Ma’iitsolema,” He told me. I thought his tone sounded a bit apologetic.

So no Unvar, at least not that he knew of. I sighed, giving G’rook a final pat behind the ears. But seeing the dog had given me an idea. I waved to the pair, deciding perhaps I should go visit Alo’aya instead. At least I had a good guess where she was.

The big black wolf-dog was still in her stall, curled about her pups. When I first opened the door, she growled loudly. Even snapped her teeth and barked. But as soon as I greeted her softly, her lips dropped back over her teeth and her ears pricked, nose twitching. Calmer now that she heard my voice and recognized my scent.

I stepped into the stall as she settled down again, and the tip of her tail twitched slightly.

“I brought you something,” I told her, crouching down and producing the last of the jerky from my pocket.

Now her tail made great sweeps back and forth, and she gobbled up the dried meat eagerly. After I had fed the last of it from my pockets, she snuffed at my fingers and licked them. I remembered the meaning of her name and almost laughed, but she soon turned her attention back to her pups.

I stayed with them for a while, cuddling each of the eight little fuzzballs and scratching Alo’aya behind her ears. She eventually relaxed enough to even lay her head in my lap, and I found myself singing softly to her again.

Finally, I sighed, giving her head a final pat, having decided to keep looking for Unvar. She gave my fingers a lick as I stood, and I offered her and her pups a fond farewell.

When I exited the small stable, I heard a lot of loud cheering from an open-faced tent nearby. Based upon the smell, I guessed it was some sort of blacksmith stand. The cheering sounded friendly and inviting; it reminded me of some of the interactions Unvar had with the Tlaloc the previous day.

Hopeful, I wandered over. There were about a dozen Tlaloc, all sitting either on the ground or makeshift seats, chatting loudly. They passed around a water skin, though by the eagerness with which they drank from it, I doubted it was filled with water at the moment. But as I looked from face to face, I realized Unvar was not among them.

Disappointed, I started to turn to look elsewhere, when another familiar voice shouted out.

“Ma’iitsolema!”

Turning, I saw Ta’nik standing at the anvil, a hot piece of iron clutched between two tongs in her meaty hand. She smiled at me excitedly, and waved a small hammer in her opposite hand before whacking it into the metal. I smiled back, and offered her a small wave. Depositing the piece she was working on into a cool vat of water, she waved me in, walking around the other side of the anvil. I thought she might come pick me up and carry me over if I refused, so I obediently approached.

The men had gone silent at her greeting, and turned almost as one to consider me as I came closer. I felt the tips of my ears growing hot, but they all nodded respectfully to me.

Ta’nik caught my good arm in one of her huge hands and pulled me over, speaking eagerly and with great flourish. She quickly cleared a seat for me amid the circle of Tlaloc and practically shoved me into it. Before I knew it, I found the water skin in my hands, and the babble of conversation was sparking up around me again.

“Kha’jii mech na brun, Ma’iitsolema,” Ta’nik told me, smiling. She turned to the others, “Ol’n mi’hik Unvar dil’nuer pusht tlaloc’kin.”

The men smiled appreciatively, and exchanged a few words regarding whatever Ta’nik had just said. I smiled back at her when she turned around to me, and she gestured to the skin, dropping one huge hand on my good shoulder. I opened it hesitantly, and with her prompting raised it to my lips to take a small sip.

The liquid inside burned like fire, and I almost coughed as I swallowed it. The men laughed a little, shoving each other back and forth and exchanging a few words. But Ta’nik nodded approvingly, giving my hair a friendly tug.The tlaloc next to me smacked me lightly with the back of his hand, holding it out for the sack. I winced at the pain in my shoulder from the touch, but took his meaning and passed it to him willingly.

“Ish’ka dol bat, brun shrin!” Ta’nik shouted at the man, and shoved him so forcefully he fell off the stump. “Ma’iitsolema l’ma shikoba, brujutt!”

I started in shock, my eyes wide. But the rest of the men laughed, and even the one knocked from his perch gave a sheepish grin. Ta’nik shook her head, hands on her hips, then turned back to me.

“Bul’ma kishna,” She said, examining my shoulder and frowning.

“It’s fine,” I told her, giving her a reassuring smile. I looked around. “Have you seen Unvar?”

She shook her head, and muttered something I didn’t catch. Then she turned to one of the other seated Tlaloc; an older looking man with a long grey beard he had braided into thick strands and deep grey eyes set into wrinkled skin.

“Maltoc, ma etna su Ma’iitsolema?”

Maltoc? I echoed silently, looking at him curiously. The old man grunted, shaking his great head, then shouted something over his shoulder.

I turned and nearly leapt from my seat at the sight of the man who walked out from behind the nearest tent. He was about a head taller than me, with muscular but lean arms and stomach. His hair was a sandy blonde, and he had braided it at the sides and pulled it at the top to meet at the back of his head in a tiny little tuft. But it was the tanned skin, rounded ears, and lack of tusks that had my eyes widening at the sight of him.

He met my eyes and smiled kindly. I opened and closed my mouth uselessly a few times as he came over, a small satchel under one arm.

“Good day,” He told me cheerily, crouching to one knee before me.

“You.. You’re… You are-” I stammered, shocked.

His grin grew a little. “Shikoba, yes, human. Like you.” He offered me his hand, “My name is Galen, I am Maltoc’s apprentice Shaz’gul.”

I shook his hand, perhaps a little too eagerly. “By the gods, you have no idea how happy I am to see you,” I told him, a little breathy. 

Around us, the rest of the tlaloc began to converse again, allowing us a small bubble of privacy alloted by our singular language.

He laughed, patting my hand in his lightly before dropping it. “I can only imagine! I heard that the King had brought a Shikoba back with him not long ago. I figured it was only a matter of time before we had the chance to meet. Let’s take a look at your shoulder.”

“Wait, what King?” I asked, blinking at him stupidly.

“Unvar, of course,” He told me as he leaned in, checking my bandages, “These will have to be changed.” He noted, mostly to himself.

I laughed in surprise. “Unvar’s a chief, not a king!”

Galen nodded understandingly. “The Tlaloc don’t have a word for ‘King’. But Unvar is the first Tlaloc in two centuries to unite the eight raiding clans of Broghuz valley. They call him High Chief instead.”

I shook my head, feeling a little shocked and dazed at the notion. I had always supposed a chief was a great thing, and the camp had seen so large, I was certain he was quite important. But to think he led not only one clan, but eight? I could hardly wrap my head around it. I shook my head again, blinking stupidly.

“I… I have so many questions,” I breathed.

...

UPDATE: Part Nine Here