#i miss drawing him i promise ill draw him soon

[meamiiikiii]

imagine if isa's confession kept getting interrupted in increasingly bizarre ways…. ASFASDASF

((this stems from a stream silly!! with my friends!! we are streaming now!! its the finale!! info rbed in a lil bit!! yeah thats it!!))

[mmimiraesou]

I just started sbr and i love gyro so much so here is a deviation from my usual sdc clownery

[saph-cyare]

Always and Forever.

Summary — Lately, Joel’s been feeling a certain way about you. All he needs is a little push from Ellie and his brother in order for him to take action.

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: Established relationship, cursing, mainly Ellie’s potty mouth, unprotected sex, P in V.

Genre: Fluff & smut

Rating: Mature

Joel doesn’t know what it is. He has no idea what’s gotten into him, or why he can’t seem to turn his focus to anything other than you. Everything else has seemed insignificant lately. His duties around Jackson feel as though he's only going through the motions until he can return to the comfort of your shared home, and to the domestic bliss of the household, just you, Ellie and him. Even out on patrols, Joel couldn't keep his thoughts from wandering back to you. It was only Tommy that had brought Joel out of his own head, only just stopping him from setting foot into an old, rusted bear trap.

And this morning is the same. Only this time, Ellie is the one to notice. The young girl eyes Joel from across the breakfast table, the beginning of a smirk playing on her face. He's turned halfway to look over the back of his chair, his watchful gaze fixed on your figure roaming the kitchen. His eyes finally break away from you, only to be met with a sly look from Ellie, as well as her ill-timed attempt to avert her eyes and straighten out her expression.

Joel opens his mouth to say something in response to her smart look, but yet again, his attention is pulled back to you, this time setting a fragrant cup of coffee in front of him and pressing a kiss to his temple. Joel's gaze follows you as you make your way back to the kitchen before returning with two plates in your hands, setting one in front of him and the other in front of Ellie. She takes note of your missing plate and swiftly turns to look at you.

“You aren't gonna eat with us?” You offer a grateful smile to her concern, taking your hand to gently smooth her hair back. “Can't today,”you respond. “I’m helping with breakfast in the dining hall this morning. I just wanted to make you both something before I left.” You smile at the both of them. “I’ll be home soon. Promise.”You plant a kiss atop her head before moving to the entryway of your home, and Joel gets up and follows after you.

He leans up against the wall of the entryway, head tilted as he watches you put on your shoes and coat. You finally look up at him once finished, and move towards him. His hands wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. You bring one hand up to his head, his eyes closing as your fingers begin to play with his curls.

“You gonna be okay without me?”

There’s a bit of teasing in your concern, but Joel only hums in response, too focused on the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. “Don’t know,” he says. He opens his eyes to look at you. "Might just have to keep you here with me."

He moves his head to rest in your neck, placing a soft kiss over your pulse point. You let out a soft sigh at the feeling of his lips. You want to indulge in this feeling, but you know full well that if you let Joel go any further, you are not leaving the house this morning.

“Tempting,” you say. “But I promised Maria. I've got to go.” Joel only offers another hum against your skin as acknowledgment. “You sure?”

“Joel—”

You’re cut off when Joel begins to suck at a certain sensitive spot. He draws a gasp from your lips, followed by a soft moan, and you can feel him smirk against your skin. You sound divine. He wants to draw more sounds from you. He wants you to stay, wants to take you back to bed and keep you there for hours and hours. He wants to give you so much more.

But he knows it’ll have to wait.

Joel finally pulls back from your neck to look at you. Your breathing is uneven, and a warmth has now enveloped your skin. “Alright”, he says. He gives you a nod of approval, as if finally giving you permission to leave. Of course he does so after he’s gotten you all hot and bothered.

You huff out a breath. “You’re a tease, you know.”

He only shrugs. “I like giving you something to miss me by.” You give a humored scoff at his words.

This man.

Your hands move to cradle the sides of his face, and you can feel his scruff that you love so dearly beneath your fingertips. “Trust me, I’d miss you regardless.” You gently bring your lips to meet his. And when you pull away, Joel can’t help but marvel at you. This is the face of the woman he loves. You are the woman he loves. After everything that's slipped away from him, you are possibly the most precious of the few things he's gained. And you've stayed. Despite all that's been lost, you are a constant within Joel's life. He's grateful to whatever higher power there is that he has the privilege of holding you close to him. That you're his.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and then rests his forehead against yours. "You come home as soon as possible. You hear me?"

"I will." You nod against his forehead. "Always."

Joel presses one last quick kiss to your lips before opening the door for you, allowing you to step out into the fresh spring air. Joel watches you from the porch as you make your way toward the town's dining hall. You briefly turn back towards the house and give him one last little wave before continuing down the road. He returns it, along with a smile on his face before stepping back inside.

Joel makes his way back to the dining table and to his breakfast, Ellie nearly finished with hers. He sits down, ready to enjoy the meal you’ve prepared. Before he can even begin to eat though, he looks up from his plate and meets Ellie's stare once again, her expression the same as the one she'd given him earlier that morning. Joel only stares back at her in confusion.

"Hell’s going on with you this morning?”

“The fuck’s going on with you!”

“Watch your mouth—”

“You can’t even be away from her for one second. You’ve been like this all week. Actually, no, you’ve been like this for a fucking month. At least.” She raises her eyebrows at him. Joel stares at her before turning his attention to his plate. “I don’t know what your talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

“Ellie—“

“You might as well just marry her already, It’s about time anyway—”

Joel freezes.

He can feel is entire body go stiff. It feels as though all of his basic motor functions have left him, leaving every single muscle reduced to motionless mass. He doesn’t even know if he can offer up a response. And when he finally does, all he can muster up is a weak “What?”

Ellie throws up her hands. “I said about damn time! I love her. You definitely love her, with you being all over her all the fucking time.”

The signature smirk of hers returns to her face for the nth time this morning.

“By the way, I see her neck in the mornings, you know—”

Joel looks like he might have a heart attack, and Ellie has to resist the urge to laugh at his mortification.

“Ellie.”

“Okay, alright, listen, all I’m saying is she makes you happy. It’s obvious.” Her tone gains some seriousness now. “And I think you should ask her. It’s not like she’s going to say no. I mean, she’s been with us this long, right?”

Joel’s silent. Not out of shock, but pondering. He’s absorbed all of what Ellie said.

Marriage.

It’s a thought that hadn’t really occurred to Joel. Occasionally, for only seconds at the most, it’s entered his mind during some little moments with you. When you’ve laid your head on his chest after a long day, when you sing and dance with Ellie, when you’ve carefully, lovingly patched him up after a rough day of patrol. And during all the times that he’s felt you with his hands, his mouth, memorized every inch of your body with his own.

These things, he wouldn’t mind keeping forever.

Maybe Ellie is right. Maybe it is time—

Joel’s pulled out of his thoughts by a soft knock at the front door. He sees Ellie jolt a bit at the sound, and he extends his hand in a small action of comfort. In spite of having been in Jackson for quite some time, some of the effects of the past still remain. Though, you’ve made it better for them both.

“Easy. ’s okay” She softens at his action and gives him a nod. Carefully, Joel goes to the door, Ellie following behind him, and cracks it just wide enough to get a glimpse of who stands on the other side. Tension leaves Joel’s body when he sees a familiar face.

“Hey, brother.”

“Tommy,” Joel opens the door wide, moving to embrace him. Tommy smiles, a hand patting Joel’s back, before he extends an arm out to hug Ellie.

“What brings you over?” Joel asks.

“Maria and the little one are out at the dining hall, with your girl, I think. Thought I’d stop by, see what you were up to.”

Joel can’t help the feeling of pride he gets when he hears his brother refer to you as ‘his girl’. Joel pushes it aside as he invites Tommy further into the house, taking his coat.

Ellie returns upstairs to finish getting ready for the day as Joel leads Tommy to the couch. “You want a drink or anything?”

Tommy shakes his head at the offer, smiling. “Just coffee, if you have it.”

Joel pours Tommy a mug, and takes his own unfinished one from the dining table before joining him on the couch.

“You doing okay?”

Joel looks at his brother in slight confusion. “Yeah…why?”

“I mean, considering that you just offered me liquor at 9 A.M…” Tommy gives a small gesture of his hands to make the point. “Something on your mind?”

Joel doesn’t know whether to be grateful or to curse at the fact that his brother can read him this well.

“I just…” He pauses for a moment, thinking about how on earth he should even bring this up to his brother. Joel sighs before speaking.“How’d you know?”

Tommy turns to him. “Huh?”

“Maria.” Joel clears his throat. “How’d you know when, uh—“ Joel pauses again, but Tommy catches on quickly and offers his brother a comforting smile. “I think I just woke up one morning, and I realized that I wanted to wake up beside her for the rest of my life.”

Something within Joel clicks at Tommy’s words. He feels like that. Hell, he’s felt that way about you for longer than he can even remember. Tommy observes his brother and then speaks. “So,” he begins. “You thinking about it?” Joel is silent for a moment. “Bout what?” is all he says. He picks up his mug and drinks, making sure to avoid eye contact with Tommy.

“C’mon, Joel.”

Joel sets the mug down and sighs. “Ellie said something earlier today.”

“Kid’s smart,” Tommy says.

Joel shakes his head. “Too much for her own good.”

Tommy chuckles at him before speaking again.

“For what it’s worth; I think you should.”

Joel turns to look at him and finally makes eye contact with his brother.

“Listen, I ain’t seen you this happy since…” He trails off, but both him and Joel know what he was thinking. “She’s just changed you. Really changed you. Ever since you got together, theres just been this shift in you. I can see it. We all can. Me, Maria, hell, even Ellie, you said it yourself.” Tommy holds a soft expression on his face.

“She’s good for you, and for Ellie. She’s sweet, she’s kind, and don’t kill me for saying it, but she’s beautiful, Joel. Inside and out.”

Tommy looks Joel right in the eye.

“Do it, Joel.”

Joel absorbs Tommy’s words, and he knows that he’s right. About all of it. You have changed him, in a way that he never thought possible. After everything, Joel never thought he would feel completely physically or emotionally secure again. He never thought he would be able to have a full night of rest, without being taunted by unwanted memories and waking to an empty bed. Never thought he would be able to hold someone again, kiss someone again, touch someone again. Love someone again. But he does. He has all of these things now, because of you. And he’ll be damned if he ever loses it.

He’s going to marry you.

Joel nods at before finally speaking.

“I’m gonna do it.”

Tommy smiles widely at his brother’s words. “Well, alright then.” He pats Joel on the back as he gets up from the couch. “Vamos, hermano.”

“Where are we going?”

Tommy smiles at him.

“The metalsmith.”

The rings only took three hours each to be made; six hours that Joel spent thinking of how to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. He had gotten two gold bands made, one for you and one for himself. To his disappointment, it wasn’t possible to add a stone to yours, but he was able to add something else.

“You feeling good about it?” Tommy asks him as they walk home from picking up the rings. Ellie walks in front of them, just out of earshot.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

“When are you gonna do it?”

Joel pauses before responding. He’s already waited all this time. He doesn’t know if he can wait anymore.

“Tonight, I think.”

Tommy smiles, and Joel already knows how thrilled Tommy is. Ellie, too. When they had gone to the metalsmith, she had nearly freaked out when she had found out that Joel was in fact going to propose. But he couldn’t even blame her, she was right. It was about damn time.

The three of them stop when they make it to the front steps of the house.

“I can take Ellie tonight,” Tommy offers.

“You sure?” Joel asks. “You don’t have to do that, especially with Maria, and the little one—”

“Are you kidding? Maria would love having her over, and the baby could use someone to play with.” Tommy then slightly raises his eyebrows at Joel.

“Give you guys the house to yourselves tonight?”

Joel knows what he’s insinuating. Hesitantly, he nods. “Thank you, Tommy.”

Tommy just smiles at his brother. The three of them make their way up the steps and enter the house to find you preparing dinner in the kitchen. You turn and smile at the sight of them, greeting Tommy with a hug before giving Ellie a kiss. Joel stands, rather impatiently, waiting for his turn to have your affection.

You finally break from Ellie to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s all?” He mutters.

“Well, hello to you too,” You can’t help but chuckle at his pettiness. “Are you guys hungry? Dinner’s almost ready.”

Tommy speaks up. “Actually, Ellie and I were about to head out. She’s gonna spend the night at me and Maria’s.”

You’re eyebrows raise in surprise. “Oh?” You turn to look at Joel, giving him a soft smile. “I guess it’s just me and you tonight.”

Those words make him more anxious than they should.

Once Ellie’s grabbed some clothing from upstairs, and you say goodnight to Tommy and Ellie. As Joel bids his brother good night, Tommy whispers to him as they hug.

“You’ve got this, Joel.”

God, he hopes he’s right.

The two of them leave you and Joel alone for dinner. He asks about your day, and you tell him about his little niece, what you had baked today, the town gossip you had heard from Maria. He listens intently, hanging onto your every word, and thanks the Lord that you don’t pry with questions about what he had been up to today.

You both make your way upstairs after dinner to unwind for the night. And this is when Joel begins to panic just a little. It’s getting later and later. He goes through the words in his head, thinking of what to say as he freshens up. Just before you’re about to undress and change into your sleepwear, he stops you.

“You wanna go sit on the porch with me?” He asks. “Still a nice evening.”

To his relief, you say yes.

“That sounds like a good idea,” you smile at him. “Meet you there?”

Joel nods at you. “Meet you there.”

He watches you leave the room, making your way downstairs. Joel isn’t sure what his plan is, exactly. But before he leaves to follow after you, he spots his guitar leaned against the bedroom wall. He grabs it, and brings it with him.

When he walks out, he turns to see you already seated on the porch swing. You sit up at the sight of him, guitar in hand, and can’t help but smile at the sight.

“You’re gonna play me something?”

He smiles, gives you a small one shoulder shrug before sitting beside you. “It’s been a while. Thought maybe you would like it.”

“You were right.”

He turns to look at you, smiling softly. He positions his guitar in his lap, left hand holding the neck, hovering about the frets.

“Anything requests?”

You shake your head. “Surprise me.”

Joel knows exactly what to play for you.

He begins to strum the opening notes of the song, fingers moving effortlessly against the frets. His voice is deep and rich as he sings. He’s so completely immersed in the moment, eyes closed, trusting his fingers and voice to do all the work.

When he’s finished singing, he turns to look at you, and it’s evident that he’s searching for your reaction, your approval. You smile softly at him before pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to make me fall in love with you again.”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “So it worked then?”

You gently brush his shoulder with yours, chuckling at him. He doesn’t think he could ever tire of that sound. Right now, in this moment, Joel thinks you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. The sinking sun paints your face lilac and deep blue, making your skin glow. And he knows it’s time.

“I uh—”

He stops abruptly, causing you to look up at him. His eyes are cast down, nervously fixed on the wood of his guitar.

“I’ve been thinking, and I just…” He trails off again. Your expression morphs into one of concern.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t respond. He simply begins to remove his guitar from his lap and allowing it to take his spot before moving off of the swing.

And he’s on one knee.

His hand travels behind his back and into his rear pocket to retreive a small leather box.

Suddenly all the air is gone from your lungs. It’s only the sound of Joel clearing his throat that forces you to snap out of your shock.

“Haven’t always the best at communicating. But, you probably already know that better than most.”

His words draw a choked laugh from your lips, and Joel’s finally drawn out of his nerves. He brings his gaze to meet the sight of your eyes, your soft smile, and it takes everything in him to not break right then and there.

No amount of recitation was preparation enough for this moment. He tries to find his words, speaking slowly.

“It hasn’t been easy. I know that. But you were patient. Always so damn patient with me.” He pauses. “You opened me up a little more. I uh…” Joel stops. Screw the words, whatever he had planned on saying before. He just wanted to let this moment be.

Joel opens up the box to reveal the ring, and you think you feel your heart stop beating.

“It’s just uh—it’s just gold. I wasn’t able to add a diamond or anything.” You almost want to laugh out of disbelief. He’s apologetic about it, but you could not even care less. The fact that he’s kneeling for you, ring in hand, the fact that Joel wants to be your husband, that he wants you to be his wife; that is more than enough. More than you could have ever dreamed. But there’s more.

“It isn’t much or anything, but if you look on the inner side of the ring…” His voice trails off. Curious, you look closer at the ring slightly to see a cursive engraving in the gold.

‘Always and Forever - J.’

If you weren’t crying before, you sure as hell are now.

Tears in your eyes well up as Joel says your name, and the quiver in his voice tells you there might be some in his own as well.

“I want you with me, always. It took me too damn long to realize. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t mine—I don’t even wanna think about it. All I know is that I need you. For the rest of my life, I need you. I need to have you with me. I need to be the only one to fall asleep next to you, the only one to wake up next to you. I want you, need you, always, for the rest of my life. Please; will you let me have you?”

He pauses and swallows hard, before finally summoning the words. Those words.

“Will you marry me?”

Your words are caught in your throat. Joel’s eyebrows are knitted tightly, nervously awaiting a response, something, anything from you.

But no words come.

You lower yourself off of the swing, mirroring Joel and kneeling onto the wood of the porch, facing him.

You have no words to speak; you only bring your hands to cradle the sides of his face, and softly connect your lips with his.

Joel’s kissed you countless times before, just as you’ve kissed him. But never has a kiss between the two of you felt like this. Never this tender. Never with this much pure, raw emotion behind it.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead against his gently. You softly nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaky.

“Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Joel isn’t breathing. He gently pulls away to look at you, and for a moment it’s completely silent, save for the soft sound of the crickets in the night. And then it’s hits him.

Yes. You said yes.

Joel huffs out a breathless laugh, followed by one of your own. Tears that he hadn’t been aware of begin to fall, trailing down his cheeks as he goes to kiss you again, his lips colliding with yours. When you pull away, you both can’t help but laugh again, perhaps just out of the sheer disbelief or joy. Joel realizes that the open leather box still sits in his lap. He exhales deeply before removing the ring from the velvet of the box and holding it out towards you.

“Here,” his voice is heavy as he offers his other hand out to you. “Let me.”

You place your left hand in his, and he slips the band onto your finger ever so gently. The fit is perfect, and the gold shines under the warm glow of the porch lamp.

Joel intertwines your fingers with his as he kisses you again. It’s deeper, there’s a passion lying behind it that wasn’t there before. Joel’s tongue swipes against your bottom lip, a small tease before he pulls away. You nearly whine at the loss, but Joel stands up, offering you his hand. You understand instantly, eager to be back inside of your home.

He grabs the neck of his guitar from the porch swing before pulling you both inside, kicking the front door shut behind him. He leans the guitar next to the doorframe before turning back to you, guiding you up the stairs and into your bedroom.

As soon as the door shuts, Joel’s wastes no time kissing you again deeply, trying to savor the feeling of his lips on yours. He bites your bottom lip and he nearly wants to smirk at the little gasp that escapes you. His hands wrap around around your waist, holding you flush against him as he begins to kiss down your jaw. He dips lower, nipping at your pulse before soothing it with his tongue. You let out a pleasured sigh at the feeling of his lips on you. He knows you’re eager, and so is he, but he’s taking a different approach tonight.

He wants to show you how he feels for you, beyond words. He needs to.

His hands come to the hem of your shirt, lifting the edge slightly. He pulls away, his deep brown eyes looking into yours.

“Can I take this off you, sweetheart?”

You nod your head eagerly, allowing him to undress you. He removes your shirt and bra, tossing them aside. He allows himself to take in the sight of you for just a moment, before moving to the waistband of your bottoms and removing them as well.

“Lie down for me.”

It doesn’t take much for you to comply, coming to rest on the bed. Joel undresses in front of you, removing his shirt to reveal his soft body, dark hair starting from his navel, and trailing down, below the waistline of his jeans. You swallow hard at the sight, before he joins you on the bed. He hovers above you, one sturdy forearm holding himself up as his other hand gently brushes your hair back. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before moving back down to your neck once more.

Joel lips trail down past your collar bone and to your chest, beginning to nip and suck at the sensitive flesh. He leaves dark love marks littered against your skin, languidly kissing his way down your belly until his lips stop just at the waistband of your panties.

“Lift your hips for me, baby.”

Your breath hitches and you can feel a warmth within you beginning to bloom at his words. You do as he says, allowing him to slip the fabric down your legs before discarding it on the floor. He looks down at you hungrily, pupils dilated and lips parted as he hooks his arms beneath your legs, settling between your thighs. He nearly groans at the sight of you completely exposed for him, and he can feel himself growing harder, straining in his jeans. “All mine,” he whispers, mouth hovering just over your center. “You’re all mine.” You can feel the heat of his breath against your wetness and you need him.

“Joel, please—”

He cuts you off with a long swipe of his tongue, drawing a gasp from you. He continues his movements, applying pressure to your clit with each lap of his tongue. He braces your legs with his arms, pulling you closer to him. He does not even give you a chance to open your mouth as he takes your clit fully into his mouth, beginning to suck. A moan falls from your lips, and he smirks into your pussy at the sound, continuing to devour you. It’s not long before you feel a finger teasing your entrance. Joel looks up at you, eyes asking for permission. You give him a pleading look, and he knows it’s all the permission he needs.

Joel slides slowly slides in his middle finger, before adding another. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, his fingers thick and long inside you. He curls his fingers inside of you, pressing against a spot that has you arching your back for him. He accompanies the movement of his fingers with his tongue, lapping at your clit fervently.

You can feel the heat within your lower belly increasing by the second. The combination of his tongue and his fingers inside you bring you closer and closer to the edge. Joel can feel you tightening around his fingers and he knows he’s nearly got you where he wants you.

He focuses in on the sound of your little pants and moans of his name, drinking in your sounds as he speeds up his movements.

Your hand comes to meet his head, fingers threading through his curls and tugging lightly. He groans into you at the slight pull, and the vibration is all you need to finally be sent over the edge, and he takes it all, swallowing, wanting to savor your taste.

Your chest heaves as you perch yourself up on your elbows, coming down from your high. Joel presses a kiss to your thigh, smiling softly at you. Despite the numbness in your legs, you sit up on the bed. Still between your legs, Joel stands from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed and leans down to kiss you. You sigh into the kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hand trails down to the waistband of his pants, eager to pleasure him, to give him something in return, when he stops you, his hand grasping your wrist gently. He shakes his head, smiling softly at your eagerness.

“Not tonight,” he says. Any protest you might have had is silenced as he presses a kiss to your neck, gently pushing you to lay back further on the bed. “Wanna take my time with you,” he speaks in between kisses to your skin. “Wanna make you feel good. You gonna let me make you feel good?”

You nod your head. “Yes. Please, Joel.”

He sits up quickly on his knees, his eyes fixed on yours as he undoes his belt, letting his jeans fall before finally removing his boxers. His arousal is evident, the head of his cock wet with pre-cum.

Joel leans down to be on top of you, bringing himself to your entrance, running the head of his cock gently against your slit before pushing the tip in slowly

“Joel,” you gasp at the feeling, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, baby.” He rests his forehead against yours as he pushes in deeper, letting out a deep groan when he finally bottoms out inside you. He’s a stretch, but he gives you a moment to adjust to his girth. “You alright?” He asks. You nod, giving him the go ahead to move.

Joel pulls his hips back slightly before his hips meet yours, giving you the first thrust, slow and deep. You both let out a groan at the feeling and Joel gives you another, drawing a sweet whine from your lips.

He sets the perfect pace, strokes long and hard inside you. With each thrust of his hips, his cock hits that spot that nearly makes you tremble. Joel groans into your shoulder, nearly losing himself in the way you feel around him. He moves his forehead from yours to get a good look at you, and gosh, you’re a sight. Your eyebrows knit together, lips parted as little moans escape you from each thrust of his hips against yours. He kisses you with reckless abandon, swallowing your moans with his lips as he thrusts, strokes hitting deeper.

“All mine. You’re all mine, you hear me?”

You nod, overwhelmed by his words and each spearing movement of his cock inside of you.

“Yours,” you breathe out. “I’m all yours, Joel.”

Joel groans at your words, his thrusts growing deeper and harder, and that familiar feeling in your core returns, intensifying at each thrust. You squeeze around him, and he brings his hand to intertwine with yours, just above your head. You’re close to nearing your peak, breath growing more ragged and your moans turning to whimpers. The knot in your core is about to come undone and Joel can feel it, close behind you.

“Come on my cock baby, let me feel you. I’ve got you.”

With one last hard thrust, you come undone around him, crying out his name. “Atta girl,” he whispers against your skin just before reaching his own release, moaning into your ear as he fills you up. “That’s my good girl.”

He rests on top of you for a moment, panting into your neck before carefully unsheathing himself from you, and laying at your side.

You take in the sight of him, silver curls damp on his forehead with perspiration, his chest rising and falling. You steady your breath before speaking.

“When—?” You hesitate, unsure of how to broach the topic. Joel lifts his head to look at you. “When what?”

You draw in a breath.

“The wedding,” It’s the first time you say it out loud. You’re marrying Joel. Your Joel. All of the dry wit, all of the Southern charm. Every part of him is yours. “When did you want-”

“Yesterday.”

You laugh at him and he only smiles at you, both knowing that his eagerness is shared. He presses a kiss to the bridge of your nose. “As soon as possible. Whenever you want.”

Joel brings your closer into his arms, holding you tight.

“Gonna take care of you.” Joel lays a kiss on your forehead, so light, you barely register it in your blissed out daze.

He presses another kiss to your hair. “Gonna keep you safe.”

Your lips curve into a soft smile before planting a kiss to Joel’s neck.

“I know.”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life.

Author’s Note 📝🪶 : Hi :) This is my first time writing so if you made it here, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed.

[luveline]

baby blurb of sirius looking after sick shy!reader pleaseeee. I miss him and my throat is killing me today :((

thank u for ur request! feel better soon<3 fem!reader

"Let me see," Sirius says. 

You stare at him. 

"Open up. I wanna see if you have ulcers." 

"Sirius," you say, your voice shaking with the hoarseness that accompanies a bad throat intertwined with the nervousness of having someone so handsome this close to your face, "we both know I'm not going to let you look in my mouth." 

"But you'd let me put my tongue in there?" 

You flush with a heat that has nothing to do with your flu. "We all make mistakes." 

Sirius smirks at you. It's a very charming expression on him, as is the quirk of a slender brow as he pulls his legs onto the bed and crosses them. 

Elbows on his knees, face in his palms, he looks out of place on your white sheets. Black jeans, black t-shirt with a tasteful rip from shoulder to pec, black hair a glossy, messy siren call, and all his dull black piercings. He has a stray wave splayed against his cheek that you want to push behind his ear. His stubble would scratch your thumb. 

"If that's how you feel," he murmurs, though he makes no effort to move. 

"Do you think I'll be ill forever?" you ask. 

"Likely. Don't worry, gorgeous. I'll take care of you forever." 

You bite your tongue where it's pushed against the inside of your bottom lip, your eyes softening at his promise. He's joking, sure, but he leans forward to rub your knee and inner thigh, startling you despite the layers of blankets between your bare skin and his. 

His head remains in his palm, propped up casually, so your shock swiftly fades. This is just Sirius being Sirius.

"What will I do with you?" he asks sympathetically. 

"Not much." 

He scratches a hand through his hair. "Now, why are you talking about my girl like that? Being poorly is no excuse." 

You're laying back in a mountain of Sirius-sanctioned pillows and cushions, Sirius to your left, a box of things he'd brought for you to your right. The necessities: super soft aloe vera tissues, decongestants, paracetamol and ibuprofen (an ultimate combination). The treats: new fluffy socks, chocolates you can't yet eat, a blanket one thousand times softer than the tissues, and a teddy bear that 'looks like you', apparently. 

"You're probably too good to me," you say softly. 

"Or I'm the right amount." Sirius straightens, groans, and drops into the cushions beside you. "You're very, very lovely, even when you're as sick as a dog. I think you should know that," he says, his tone ringing with a sincerity that makes your eyes ache worse than they already do. "And you're like, insane levels of gorgeous. I'm not kidding when I say–" 

He pauses as you raise your hand. You settle it sluggishly over his pretty mouth, feeling it curl upward. "Sh," you say, too tired to fluster at his praises. 

"You're beautiful," he says quietly into your hand. 

Sirius' fingertips trace the slopes of your body. Not sexual but inherently intimate, he draws a path from the fat of your upper thigh to your ribs where your blankets end. He pulls them higher. 

"You really won't let me look at your throat?" he asks. 

"No, but… maybe you can make us a cup of tea?" you suggest shyly. 

Sirius leans forward, pressing a short, firm kiss to your chapped lips. "For you? A-ny-thing." Two more quick kisses. "Don't go anywhere." 

Sirius is jogging down the stairs by the time you find the energy to call, albeit weakly, "I can't stand up!" 

"I was joking! Christ, it's worse than I thought. I havta get you to a doctor." 

That time, you catch the sarcasm. 

[angelyuji]

yandere bruce wayne headcanons

yandere bruce wayne x gn!reader

warnings: yandere behavior, gross guy bruce wayne, kidnapping, stalking, power imbalance, rich guy uses his rich guy money to manipulate reader, creepy guy being a creepy guy lol (lmk for anything i might've missed i am half-asleep)

im thinking ill write some actual fanfics for him soon, idk what TO write tho...

STALKKKERRRR STALEKER SJALKER STALKER!!!

he is a creature of the night so u KNOW he’s watching you from a rooftop next to ur apartment

think of the scene in the batman when he’s watching Selina undress and stuff yeah hes a peeper (hes so fine i love bruce)

my man doesn’t have any superpowers BUT hes literally the freaking batman, he has cameras all over gotham so i promise he has eyes on you at all times

he’ll watch over you and make sure ur not gonna get mugged by some loser with a gun or get caught up in a joker/ivy/freeze/whomever scheme

like hes stalking you

he knows everything abt u too with WE and the Batcomputer (lol) he’ll have all ur personal info on file, ur twitter acc, your Instagram, any social media, literally everything on a separate file that is locked behind multiple passwords and eye scans (especially if we’re looking at bruce with kids like he knows they’d open the file and snoop)

if we’re looking at pattinson!batman/early years, he’s probably gonna write abt u in his diary journal (hes just a silly little guy)

he’ll try to give you a job at wayne enterprises to keep an eye on you as bruce (obvi becuz he cant be batman 24/7) (job depends on your experience and degree) (he’ll want u as a personal assistant or something but depending on your area of expertise… you’re probably not gonna accept lol)

if u do accept for a position as assistant/secretary, he’ll have your desk 3 ft away, he’ll be calling u into his office just to talk, basically like sort of training u to be his wife (get coffee, make lunch/get lunch, invite u to be his plus one for galas) all that jazz, he’ll flirt with u but ur gonna be like “oh that’s just brucie wayne being brucie wayne, but once u get comfortable in ur role, he’ll start making moves like hand on the lower back, pressing against u in any situation possible, he’ll never seem creepy (yet) but it’ll make u slightly uncomfortable considering he’s ur boss.

i can think of 2 possibilities that could occur

1. creepiest boss ever. he’ll order u how to dress to be his assistant/how to dress at galas (skimpy dresses, short skirts, tight pants, tight fitting dress shirts that exposes everything, shit like that), he’ll LEER at u like bruce will purposely drop stuff and make u pick it up so he can watch u bend over. like the worst. you’ll get tired of this behavior and quit and bruce will get angry and kidnap u

2. still creepy but not as bad. more like extravagant gifts, vacations, parties. he’ll still flirt and try to have as much physical contact with u as possible but he knows where to draw the line. you wouldn’t quit cuz yk great pay, okay boss. but like his feelings would get too much to contain and he’ll kidnap u in the end anyway

if i had to diagnose the batmans i care abt id sayyyy 1 is Affleck, 2 is bale, and Pattinson is a mix of both. comic batman has so many different writers and each run has a different personality for him saur depends on the writer lmao

u wouldn’t be able to date cuz of yk…….. WE rules………… but he’ll get tired of that taboo/secret relationship bs pretty quickly and just kidnap u

if u don’t accept a position as an assistant/secretary, he gets it but more than likely, his feelings for u will intensify and he’ll end up taking you to keep at wayne manor

before getting into when ur stuck at wayne manor, lets break down bruce’s thoughts abt u

he has put u on a PEDESTAL

ur amazing, beautiful, gorgeous, u. can. do. no. wrong.

in his mind, ur the light to his darkness

alfred totally enables him and if we’re talking dilf bruce, the kids learn from him so they just assume this is what love is, kidnapping and manipulation

you’d adjust to life at wayne manor (not quickly but yk mf is RICH, ur gonna be treated so well once u understand that u cant leave)

bruce wouldn’t torture u but he’d pavlov u for sure

you would only be given comfort and relief when ur around him/good to him

if ur not good, then he’d probably keep u locked up in the batcave or in any of the many empty rooms at the manor

bruce wayne is the most powerful and influential person, ANDD has THE most powerful people on the planet as his best friends… you’re stuck with him babes

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 8.

[Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley]

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley

Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)

Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, 69’ing, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️

The Freddie smut train isn’t stopping 🌹

George returned a little while later, taking a suspiciously long time in the shower which you didn't doubt had been organised by Fred.

"Are you both decent?" He asked as he crept in, smiling at seeing that you were both now clothed and sat on the bed laughing.

"Reckon tea will be ready soon," George says, hopping onto the bed, now clean and redressed. He immediately pulls you into his arms, getting the cuddles you'd promised earlier as you absently draw shapes onto the skin of his arm with your finger as you all chat until Molly calls you for tea.

You all sit and chat as you eat, Fred, Harry and Ron all celebrating their win from earlier in the day. Molly has made a heap of mashed potato, steak and onion pies and veg which you excitedly tuck into, knowing how much you'll miss her cooking when the week comes to an end. It was Hermione's last day at the burrow tomorrow before she went home to her parents and so you were all trying to think of something you could do tomorrow, gathering ideas or group activities but not quite deciding anything.

Fred looks increasingly fidgety throughout dinner, which made you glance at him questioningly a few times. It wasn't entirely uncharacteristic for him to be squirmy and hyper but this seemed different, like he couldn't wait to get away from the table. Once the meal had been had, you and both twins make your way up to their bedroom with Fred immediately fluttering round the room grabbing random things and slinging them into a little shopping bag he'd knicked from Molly.

"You'll probably need a sweater princess, want one of mine?" He asks as he delves into the drawers, not waiting for an answer as he pulls out a green knitted jumper with a big 'F' on the front in gold lettering. You gladly accept and look down at what you're wearing, suddenly wondering if they're suitable.

"Fred, do I need to get changed?" You ask, making him pause briefly as he looks at you up and down.

"No princess, though if you want to wear less I'd have no qualms," he smirks before returning to his digging. You roll your eyes and turn your gaze to George who is lay on the bed reading. You slink into bed beside him and without ever taking his gaze off the page, he opens up his arm for you to cuddle into his side.

"Gonna miss you," you whisper in his ear, quiet enough so Fred wouldn't hear. You see him smile and turn to you as his hand creeps down to reach your bum, giving it a little pat.

"You already know I'll miss you," he smiles, pressing a kiss to your head.

"Right! Princess if you would like to follow me," Fred says, standing beside the bed and offering his elbow to you like a man in an old fashioned movie. You giggle and stand to grab his elbow, casting one last glance back at George before you slip out of the door and down the stairs, following Fred until he leads you out of the house.

"Where are we going?" You ask, your arms still gripping his arm as he guides you. He looks over at you with a smirk and winks, not disclosing anything.

You follow the familiar path up to the back field, praying that he wasn't going to make you play quidditch.

When you got to the field, he pulled the bag off his wide shoulders and pulled out a large picnic blanket and laid it on the floor as he knelt down, gesturing for you to take a seat.

"Okay my princess, we have a blanket, some candles, some beer and."

"Where did you get that?" You interject, laughing as he pulls out two bottles of beer from the bag, no doubt stolen from Arthur's stash. He gives you a wicked smile and leans in to pull you into a kiss, both of you giggling as your lips meet. He then lights the candles around you and reaches into the bag to pull out a little box.

"Okay we have Weasley's whizzbangs, whizzfire bangs, whammy rockets and miraculous mystic mayhem makers," Fred smiles as he pulls out a selection of fireworks from the bag, all tried and tested Weasley products they'd been developing.

"Putting on a show for me handsome?" You flirt, looking at the selection of explosives in front of you.

"Sweetheart, I'm constantly putting on a show for you, have been since second year," he admits with a little chuckle, making you laugh.

You actually end up sitting and talking for the majority of the night, reminiscing about previous pranks you'd all pulled and memories together over the years as you sip on stolen beer. You were both lay on the blanket, your head on his chest as you looked up towards the stars, feeling at peace.

"You're so beautiful," Fred says suddenly, making you turn to face him. Instead of a teasing smirk that you'd expected, he actually looks a little bashful with a smile tugging at his lips. You blush at the sudden intimacy and lean up to kiss him. The kiss starts off slowly and playfully but in no time you are beginning to rut against each other, hands wandering and little breathless gasps falling between your lips in between the passionate kisses.

Something changes in you immediately like a switch had been flicked and you needed to feel him on you, in you, however you could get him, surrendering to the intense desire that Fred always seemed to pull from you.

You began tugging at his sweater, needing to get it off his body to feel him. As he sat up slightly, you immediately began attacking his brown, woven belt to get to what you really wanted.

"What's your rush princess? You need me?" He asks, his hand coming up to grab the side of your face, long fingers tangling into your hair as he feverishly kisses you. You nod and a little whimper falls from your throat without realising as you carry on trying to undress him, the lust you felt becoming a burning need.

Fred pulled off his sweater and T-shirt, leaving him in just his trousers which were quickly pulled down as soon as you'd worked his belt.

"A little unfair don't you think sweetheart?" He smirks, pulling your body to his, your hips meeting as you feel the growing bulge in his underwear against your thigh. He immediately pulls off the sweater and top you're wearing, gasping and growling as he realises that you aren't wearing a bra, your naked breasts spilling out. He immediately latches onto your nipple with his mouth, feasting on the feverish skin as his other hand grabs hold of your neglected breast and toys with the nipple. Your hips chase his at the overwhelmingly pleasurable sensation as he sucks and nips at your pebbled nipples.

"Fred," you groan, throwing your head back as he sucks little lovebites into the side of your breast, never neglecting the nipple as his tongue switches back and forth, devouring your aching breasts.

"That's it princess, tell me who makes you feel this good," Fred smirks, pushing your breasts together to pay attention to them both. "Such perfect tits," he mumbles as he dives right back in.

Your hands begin to wander on his body, running down his smooth abdomen until you reach the little fuzz of his happy trail and the waistband of his boxers. You slip your hand into his underwear and immediately reach for his big, swollen length earning a loud growl from Fred as you wrap your hand around him. He breaks apart from your breast just for a second to pull down his underwear, exposing his perfect cock and balls to you, allowing you to toy with him without restriction.

You slowly begin to move your hand on his cock, tugging and gliding gently just how he likes, causing a broken moan of your name to fall from his lips. He bends his neck to reach down and kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as it wrestles with your own, the sensual glide making you squeeze your legs together to relieve some tension. Fred misses nothing and immediately moves his hands to your jeans to tug them off. You reluctantly let go of his length to let him pull off your jeans and panties in one go. He then pulls off his boxers the rest of the way and slings them away, leaving you both completely naked and exposed.

A single moment passes as you look at each other, your eyes wandering all over his perfect body, really trying to commit it to memory as you look at him with sheer adoration.

He leans down and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, smirking against them as his hand begins to trail up your thigh with teasingly delicate touches which only fuel the fire within you further.

His hand meets your wet folds as his fingers slip beneath them, earning a groan from him as he discovers just how wet you are.

"Is all of this for me princess?" He smirks.

You nod, desperately trying to buck your hips so he'll touch you more, chest heaving already at the sensation.

"Have you been thinking about this sweetheart? About how my big cock is going to stretch you out? Filling you up just right."

"Fuck, Fred yes!" You moan as his long, talented fingers slip inside you, curling up to hit that special spot that makes you keen.

"There it is princess, fuck you're so hot, can't wait to get my cock in you," he says as he leans back down, attacking your breasts once again as he works his fingers in and out of you. You immediately reach for his cock and begin pumping him, making deliciously lewd noises fall from his mouth.

"Come here sweetheart," he suddenly says pulling away, gesturing for you to sit up. He moves you and positions you into a similar fashion to what you'd done that afternoon but instead of being on top of him, you are laid on the blanket in opposite directions whilst facing each other.

His cock is right in front of your face, flushed pink and leaking precum already, just begging to be sucked. Fred parts your legs with his big hands and moves to rest his head on your thigh, wrapping the other one over his shoulder as he kisses your pussy lips, teasing you. You buck your hips, trying to get more than just butterfly kisses and he immediately reaches up to spank your ass, causing you to let out a gasping moan.

His hand comes up to spread your little lips and he begins giving little kisses to your sensitive clit, swirling his tongue teasingly around the exposed nub as you gasp.

You can't hold back any longer and grab hold of his cock at the base, squeezing gently before wrapping your lips around his cock, swirling your tongue devilishly around the fat head, licking up all the little beads of precum. Fred immediately moans out your name and begins feasting on your cunt perfectly, both of you trying your hardest to please the other. Your paces are slow and unhurried, trying to tease and please the other to give the most pleasure you can.

You can feel your orgasm building as your hips undulate over his face. He moans, sensing your impending release and strokes your thighs as he begins wildly sucking on your clit, tugging gently and licking over the spot repeatedly as his pace increases, keeping perfect rhythm until you cum.

You have to pull off his cock as a loud moan erupts from you, your body completely at the mercy of his as your climax takes over, the white hot flames burning you from the inside out as you shout if his name.

"Fucking hell princess," he gasps, stroking your thighs as you come down from your high, a blissful smile plastered on your face. "So hot when you cum."

Fred leans up and moves to lie beside you again, smiling and kissing you as he sees your little blissful, fucked out smile and heavy eyelids.

"Want you Freddie, please," you moan, reaching for his cock again.

"One time not enough sweetheart? Or do you need my big cock?"

"Need it Freddie, please," you beg, completely overwhelmed by the emptiness you felt, needing to be filled by him.

"I've got you sweetheart," he cooes, pulling you closer to him so that your bodies are directly facing each other. He kissed you passionately, hands wandering as they slip down to your ass again. He squeezes and massages the skin of your ass before reaching down to grab your leg and hitch it over his hip. You gasp at the sudden feel of his heavy length pressed against your pussy, just begging for entry.

You reach down and hold his cock steady at the base before rolling your hips just right so that he sinks into your wet heat, both of you gasping and moaning in sync as the bliss of him stretching you out.

"Oh princess, so tight for me," he gasps, thrusting deeper inside of you until every inch of him was buried inside, making you breathless. "Oh you feel perfect princess, so fucking good."

He begins to thrust in and out and you have to hold back your loud moans which you're sure could be heard all the way back at Hogwarts.

You begin to roll your hips in time with his thrusts and you both immediately cry out at the sensation as you fuck yourself on his cock. His hands come up to grab at your ass, guiding your movements, helping you to roll your ass back and forth as he fucks you deep.

"Fuck Freddie, so good, you're so deep," you moan out as the angle of his cock presses hard against your g-spot with each harsh thrust.

"Princess, y/n," he moans, "not gonna last, you feel so fucking good."

"Cum Freddie, please, want you to cum inside me!"

He begins brutally thrusting into you, abandoning your hip movements as his hands dig deliciously into the skin as he grips you hard. His groans and moans mix with yours as he sets a brutal pace, fucking into you with abandon as he nears his end. He suddenly grips you bruisingly hard and slams your hips down onto him one last time, holding your body tight to him as he buries himself as deep as he can. His face scrunches up deliciously as he cums, the blistering hot cum shooting deep into you as his hands keep you firmly in place as your walls clench around him, another orgasm surprising you and taking over your senses.

As the climax slowly begins to wear off, Fred's grip loosens and he slowly rubs the skin where his hands have been to soothe it. He looks up at you with a wide smile and leans down to press a sweet and gentle kiss to your lips as your hands run over his chest.

"Didn't even need the fireworks," he quips as he leans his forehead on yours. You laugh, causing your muscles to contract around him where he's still inside you and you hear him let out a little gasp of over sensitivity. He slowly pulls out, limp cock now resting between you in his thigh as you both take a few moments to catch your breath before untangling yourselves .

"You never needed fireworks to get me into bed... or the ground I guess," you laugh, sitting up and reaching for your clothes. He smiles, watching you dress with a tenderness that made butterflies spread within you.

"You know, it would be a shame to waste these," he says, sitting up and fiddling with the magical fireworks.

"Alright big boy, clothes on first though," you laugh, chucking his T-shirt towards him. You were surprisingly warm and so opted not to wear the sweater, staying in a T-shirt and your jeans as Fred quickly dressed and started preparing the whizz bangs.

You couldn't help but watch him as he moved with proficiently, seeing him in his element of causing mischief as he lined up the whizzbangs.

Moments later, the enchanted fireworks erupted in the sky with a resounding bang, illuminating the entire sky with a prism of colour. One of the particular fireworks turned into a dragon midair and began circling around the rest of the explosions in the most spectacular sight you'd ever seen.

You sneaked a look at Fred's face seeing him smiling in utter delight which made you feel so proud of him and George at their incredible inventions, forever thankful that you could always get a firsthand show.

When the ash settled, the familiar scent of gunpowder and settling smoke overwhelmed your senses and took you back to the potions classroom, smelling the Amortentia. The scent was so unmistakable, like the smell of an extinguished candle with a little more dry smokiness and a lingering musky that was entirely Weasley's wizzbangs.

"Y/n?" Fred asks, bringing your attention back to him. You realised that whilst you had been spaced out, he'd tied away the leftovers from the fireworks and was now lay back on his elbows with his long legs crossed at the ankle, watching you. "Where did you go pretty girl?"

"Nowhere important," you smiled, lying down with him as you looked back at the Burrow, seeing a couple of lights still on throughout the house. A sense of dread suddenly overwhelmed you. "No one can see us right?"

He laughed and shook his head, "only window that looks out back here is mine and George's," he explains with a smirk, "think he was watching?"

"Fred!" You laughed, hitting his chest at the thought.

"Think he was taking notes on how to please a woman?" He laughs and you nudge him again, throwing him off balance of his elbows, forcing him down. "You didn't argue it, he really that bad?"

"Merlin no, just didn't think you'd want to know all the details about how your twin brother pleases me and how he likes when I-"

""Alright I get the point," he says quickly, pulling a disgusted face at the idea. You had to chuckle as you settled back onto the blanket, sprawling your legs back as you looked up at the stars.

You sneaked a glance over at Fred who was doing the same as you with his eyes closed as he relaxed and thought back to all the times you'd tried to sneak glances at him over the years without him noticing. It was one of those moments when you realised how incredibly lucky you were to have not only Fred but George too, for however long you could have them.

The whizzbang smoke had brought back memories of the Amortentia incident and had stirred something up inside you which was eating away at your happiness, never truly knowing who it was you desired more.

When you and Fred were alone together, it was easy. You'd liked him for years, daydreamed and fantasised about him every chance you could, even so much as scribbling his initials in little notebooks in your younger years like any good schoolgirl would. You'd fantasised of your life together if he ever reciprocated your feelings, your wedding, your future children, all a distant but hopeful thought. It should be easy really, he liked you back and for that you were eternally grateful.

You'd been best friends for years, even closer than you and George had been and it was constantly exciting and passionate, like everyday was a new relationship but without all the awkwardness of learning about each other. Your mischievous best friend turned boyfriend, the constant prank master and joker, always the ringleader; he kept you on your toes at all times, bringing joy and laughter to your life like no other. Your relationship was filled with teasing and witty banter that you hope never faded and you were almost certain that you loved him, and had for a long time.

But then there was George. A prankster and joker at heart but with a stronger conscience and greater moral compass. He was sensitive and kind, at-least more often than Fred tended to be and he was comforting, above all else. George made you feel secure and loved. He was the personification of that feeling after a long, stressful day when you finally got home and could relax, putting on your cosiest, comfiest clothes and shutting out the world as you sought comfort. You'd never anticipated falling for him so hard and just like his brother, you were near certain that you were falling in love with him, if you weren’t already fully there. How were you ever going to chose between them?

"Your thoughts are loud," Fred says and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Sorry," you say, turning your attention back to him, "I think I'm just tired."

"Want to go to bed sweetheart?" He asks tenderly, placing his hand on your thigh. You had to admit that going to bed did sound very appealing right now, but you didn't want to cut the cut your little date short.

"Not just yet Freddie," you say, leaning back against him. He hums and extends his arm out to you so that you can lean on it.

"Love when you call me that," he says bashfully, touching the braids on your head as he brushes away the little wisps in your face. You smile up at him and immediately your mind, filled with problems and negative thoughts is calmed and quiet again.

You decide to head in not too long after, throwing everything back into the shopping bag and walked back to the house. You managed to sneak in undetected and immediately head up to the twins' shared bedroom, carefully avoiding the creaking stairs whilst trying not to wake anyone, if they'd been able to sleep through the fireworks at least.

Upon entering the room, you noticed that George had in fact made himself scarce and wouldn't be sleeping here tonight, his pillows gone from the bed. You briefly thought of asking Fred but it was his night with you and you didn't want to bring up any potential conflict. Fred had gone to the toilet and so you took the opportunity to take off your makeup with a wipe and get dressed.

You tossed the jumper in your arms over to the washing hamper and shimmied out of your jeans, replacing them with your sleep shorts. Your T-shirt was switched out to one of Fred's old ones that you kept and you dragged yourself into bed, your tiredness from the night before hitting you like the hogwarts express.

When Fred strolled back into the room, he smiled at seeing you in bed. He tore off his clothes, opting to just sleep in his boxers and climbed into bed behind you. It was strange sleeping without George but you didn't fixate on it, you just hoped that wherever he was, he didn't feel pushed out or alone.

Fred's arm immediately falls over your waist, falling just underneath your breasts as he pulls you tightly to him so that his body is directly connected to your back.

"How do you fit so perfectly in my arms?" He whispers into your ear, musing at the near perfect fit of your body in his. It was true; you suspected that his height versus yours had a lot to do with it but you fit neatly into the plains of his body. Your ass was pressed against his crotch whilst his arm reached perfectly with the curve of your waist, your head slotted right under his head to rest against his chest whilst his arms encased you.

"Maybe you just fit perfectly around me," you smiled into the dark room, feeling him squeeze you tighter at your words.

"Did you have a good time tonight princess?" He asks quietly and you can sense a slight hint of vulnerability in his tone.

"The best Freddie," you answer honestly, "atleast, the fireworks were great." He immediately grabs you and begins tickling your ribs as you fight back, squirming and struggling to hold in your squeals at the horrendous sensation.

"Oh I see how it is, I give you some of my best work and all she remembers is the bloody pyrotechnics," he says dramatically, causing you to roll your eyes.

"It was perfect Fred, every bit," you say quietly, no longer playing around. You twist slightly in his arms to seek out his lips, placing a kiss of sheer gratitude on him.

"This is really nice," Fred says after a few moments of comfortable silence. You hum in agreement, enjoying the peace and the feeling of his arms securely wrapped around you. "One day we'll be able to do this every night," he says, sounding as if he's narrating his thoughts. "When school is over and me and George have opened the shop, you can move in with us and every single night I'll kiss you goodnight and hold you until you fall asleep."

"That sounds perfect," you say with a yawn, feeling as if you could fall asleep within mere seconds.

"And every morning I'll bring you a cup of tea in bed and kiss you before I leave for work," he adds, clearly daydreaming though he sounds increasingly more tired with each word. "You can help me pick out my tie, checking that it matches with my suit. Did I tell you me and George decided we'd wear full suits at the shop? Like real businessmen. Anyway, you'd pick out my tie and straighten it for me before I leave because you know I always leave it wonky."

He tiredly mumbles out more of his dreams and secrets to you in the still, dark room but you don't hear them, having fallen sound asleep, comforted by the sound of his voice as it acts like your own personal lullaby.

[louloulemons-posts]

Cuddles and Stew

StepDad!Eddie X Mom!Reader

Summary : The third instalment of Margot - you get sick and Margot calls Eddie

Word Count : 2.2k

Warnings : Not proofread, half was written at 4am lol, petnames, cuteness, talks of illness and pain meds, margots just adorable, girl dad eddie, mainly margot and eddie content - not much reader.

A/N : sorry for lack of updates, i’m working hard on the multi part fic and am going into a writers block lmao 🫶🏻 sorry loves, hopefully more should be coming soon.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Lay underneath his vans, Eddies hands were dirty as he tried to fix a ticking sound. He heard the faint ringing of the phone from inside the trailer and Wayne pick it up.

The squeak of the trailer door, made him slide from under the van, “Eddie it’s for you,” the man said, urgency in his voice. It made Eddies brow furrow as he wiped his hands and jogged to him.

“Hello?”he spoke.

“Eddie?” A voice he wasn’t expecting.

“Mar? That you sweet girl?”

“Yes,” she spoke softly.

“Is everything okay? How come you’re calling me?” he asked, obviously he adored that she was, but he was concerned he couldn’t hear you whispering to her in the background.

“Something wrong with Mama. Mama said this number for ‘mergecy.”

“Hey I’ll be right there okay? You got sit with mom and do not answer the door, I’ll be there soon baby I promise.”

“Okay,” the young girl said softly.

Ripping his greasy clothes off, changed into the first things he found. “Hey I need to borrow your car,” he spoke to Wayne, panicking.

“Yeah son sure, everything okay? Little Miss doesn’t normally call.” Eddie explained, shoving his foot in his trainers and grabbing Wayne’s car keys.

“Well call me and let me know how she is son,” he said, as Eddie climbed into the vehicle. Speeding away, he knew the neighbours would complain to Wayne about reckless driving.

He didn’t care, he needed to get to his girls.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Putting his key in the lock, he pushed open the door. The house seemed fairly quiet, TV chattering away faintly. “Baby?” he called out.

No answer. Your car was here so you were home. “Margot? Margot are you here?” he tried again peeking round into the living area.

“Daddy!” A whisper shout came from the top of the stairs. There was Margot, hair frizzy from sleep, her favourite pyjamas and one sock. “Hi Sweetheart, where’s mom?”

“Here!” she did a summoning motion with her hands, so he bounded up the stairs to meet her. She took his hand and led him down the hallway.

You were sat at the end of the bed, on the floor. Head between you knees, breathing deeply. “Mama,” Margot said gently, kneeling next to you, “Mama wook, Eddie.”

With eyes scrunched in pain and confusion, you lifted your head. Meeting his brown eyes, you couldn’t fathom why he was here. “E-Eddie, what are you doing here?” you asked.

You looked awful, skin pale and flushed at the same time. You looked exhausted, body breaking down in a way. “Margot called me.”

“What?”

“Numbers for ‘mergencies Mama.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you felt awful. You’d sat down because your head wouldn’t stop spinning, you thought it would be the safest place. “Oh Mar I’m so sorry,” you sniffled.

Eddie came and crouched next to you now, holding your head gently. “It’s otay Mama, Eddie make you bedder,” she spoke, resting her head on you.

A large palm was on your forehead, lovely and cool. “Babe, you’ve got a fever. Come on we’ve gotta get you into bed. Rest, fluids, sleep.”

“What? No! I can’t, I gotta get up,” pushing yourself up the ground, it wasn’t even a full second before you were coming back down.

Head buzzing and pounding.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got to let me look after you.”

“B-but, Margot and work!” you panicked.

“Baby, come on calm down,” he held your face in his palms, “I’m gonna look after Mar, and hey it’s a long weekend. So you can rest up.”

Sighing you nodded, “I need new pyjamas.”

“I ged dem!” Margot spoke, running to your draws. Her voice made your head pound, the volume of everything seemed to be amplified.

Pulling out your favourite pair, ones that matched those she currently had on, she brought them to you. “Thanks baby,” you said, gently stroking her hair.

“Okay, get changed okay, me and Nurse Margot will get you some water and other things you need,” Eddie spoke, helping you to your side of the bed.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Margot stood on her step-stool, filling your water bottle at the tap. “Da, it’s done,” she said, so he could come and do the lid. He grabbed pain killers, tissues, cold juice from the fridge. He was also heating some water for a hot water bottle.

“Good job Bubby,” he smiled, kissing the girl on the head. Soon enough the kettle whistled letting him know it was done, “You stay over there okay? This is very hot.”

After he filled the water bottle he let Margot carry the tissues and your cold water bottle up the stairs to your. You were lay under the covers, eyes closed, now clad in your new pyjamas.

“Here you go Mama,” the small girl said quietly, placing the water and tissue next to you. Eddie did the same, but lifted the blanket slightly so he could put the hot water bottle under it.

Pulling the curtains closed, he hoped that’d help your head. “You stay with Mom for a second, I’m just gonna get a compress for her head,” he said to Margot.

Wetting a washcloth so it’d cool you down, although you were freezing right now, he had no doubt you’d be sweating in a minute or two. “Here you go,” he pushed you hair back, letting the refreshing feeling take over your body.

“Sweetheart, you need to take these too,” he handed you the medication and drink, helping you sit up. Eyes still shut, unable to deal with any kind light.

Once you laid back down he spoke again, “You rest now. Me and Margot will go make us all something yummy and come back later to check on you.”

Picking the small child up from your side, you head a faint, “Bye Mama, wove you.” Which you repeated in a slurred and sleepy way. Snoozing away moments later.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Mama gone be otay?” The young girl asked from Eddies arms, as they went to the kitchen. “Yeah Sweetheart she’ll be okay, she’s just gotta get lots of sleep.” Margot hummed and cuddled into Eddie.

“We’re gonna make her some soup okay? Make her feel better.”

“I help!”

“Of course, we’ve gotta get some veggies from Aunt Maeves patch.”

The pair went into the garden, Maeve had said they can always help themselves. Updating everyone one what was ready to be harvested and what to leave.

In all honestly, Margot was the best person to have with him, she knew what plants were what and if they were ready - she spent lots of her days with Maeve in the garden becoming sun kissed.

“Okay so we need some potatoes, carrots, onions and I’m not sure what else.” Holding Margot on his hip as she was still only wearing the one sock, she pointed out all the different veggies they needed.

“Think we’re gonna need to make a few trips Love,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Auntie Mae has a bwasket,” she told him. “A basket, let’s go get it then.”

“Me help!”

“Bubby your feet will get grubby.”

“My boots!” She wriggled from Eddies hold, and ran to get her welly-boots. She looked a picture, pyjamas, crazy hair and wellies. Pulling a large basket behind her, Margot returned to Eddie.

Pulling a hair tie from his wrist, he comb it all into one hand and sat a loose bun on her head. She didn’t have much hair cause she was still small, but there was enough to annoy her. “Twanks Da,” she said, and went to the potatoes.

“I got-ta big one!” she squealed as she shook the dirt off. “Good job Mar, we need 3 more of those okay?” Eddie crouched down beside her, putting the basket between them so she could put the veggies in.

“And Two! … And ree! … And dats Fo-wr.”

“Good job! Let’s go and get some carrots.” Running away, Margot boots stomped on the group. “Well hello you two.” Maeve stood at the door.

“Auntie Mae!” Margot smiled, waving with grubby hands. “Hello my dears, what’s going on here?” she asked, coming out into the garden. “We’re making soup,” Eddie said.

“Mama, not well. I call-ded Eddie and now we make soup!”

“Mom isn’t well?” she said, caressing the little ones hair, looking up at Eddie. “She’s got a fever. We’ve taken her everything she needs and she’s sleeping now, so we thought we cook her something nice.”

“That’s very kind of you. I can cook it if you’d like?” The older woman offered, kindly.

“Would you mind, I honestly have no idea what to put in it.”

“I’ll write you a recipe,” she smiled, crows feet by her eyes.

“Why don’t I finish getting all of this, and you can help Margot get ready for the day,” she smiled to Eddie, taking the basket from his hand. “Thank you Mae, Margot come on Sweetheart.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Soon enough Margot was clean and dressed, clad in a little blue dress with a white tshirt underneath. Both feet now covered by socks and hair under control.

“Hey Sweetheart, why don’t you go and see if you can help Mae,” Eddie spoke, and the small girl ran off. He headed into your room, you were snoozing away, you seemed to have cooled down. Placing a soft kiss to your sticky cheek.

He found Margot and Maeve in the kitchen, the little girl stood on her stood, helping chop the veggies with her plastic knife. She caught sight of Eddie and smiled, “Wook Da I choppin’!”

“You are, that’s some super good chops bubby.”

“How’s she doing?” Maeve asked.

“She’s still sleeping, she seems to have cooled down a lot.” Maeve hummed and continued to dice an onion.

“Eddie!” Margot said in a sing song voice, he hummed and stood behind her. “Can you put dem in the pot, pwease.”

“Sure babe,” he kissed her head and took the roughly chopped potatoes and carrots to the pot.

Soon enough it was simmering away, and Maeve had added some chicken. “It shouldn’t take too long,” the older woman said, taking Margot to living room you sat her on the couch.

“Eddie, is Mama otay?” the small girl asked.

“She will be, I promise. She just needs to sleep.” As soon as those words left his mouth, he heard the bedroom door open and soft padding feet down to the bathroom.

“Stay here,” he said to the small girl, jogging up the stairs. Knocking on the bathroom door he spoke gently, “Baby you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said faintly, exhaustion clear in your voice.

Opening the door up, you smiled weakly at the curly haired man. “How you feeling?”

“Tired. Thank you for looking after Mar.”

“Hey it’s no trouble, Maeves watching her right now. We’re making you stew? Soup? I’m not sure,” he laughed.

“It smells good,” you hummed.

“I’ll bring you some up when it’s done, I’m sure Mar will be joining me too. Let’s get you back to bed.” Helping you down the hall and to the bed, you sipped some water.

“Do you need another compress?” he asked. “No I’m okay, I’m feeling a little cold so.”

“Okay baby, well the water bottles still warm so it should be okay. Let’s tuck you in,” he smiled.

Placing your quilt and a thicker blanket over you, you hummed in contentment. “How’s your head?”

“It’s not hurting as much and I’m not as dizzy anymore.”

“Good good, it’s going then. How come you didn’t call me babe?”

“It started a few days ago, I didn’t think it was anything. Apparently I was wrong. I can’t believe Margot called you, what if I’d collapsed! What if she got hurt!” your eyes welled.

“Hey hey,” Eddie sat down beside you, “Baby it’s okay, she’s alright. She did so good, you taught her so well. She explained what she needed too and she stayed safe near you.”

“I just feel bad.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault. You’re sick, you can’t blame yourself baby. Okay?” you nodded at him. “Now get some sleep.”

Closing your eyes, the door clicked closed and Eddie headed back down to Maeve and Margot. “Mama otay?”

“Yeah she was just telling me she’s starting to feel a bit better.”

Maeve squeezed his shoulder, “Well the food should be done in a little while, why don’t we watch one of your movies?”

“Cina-rella?”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The three of you sat on the bed, a tray on your lap. Big bowl of warm soup and some crusty bread. “Oh it taste delicious! You guys did such a good job.”

“Feel better Mama?”

“Yeah Mar I feel better, thank you for looking after me. You did so good calling Eddie.”

“You did,” Eddie smiled, squeezing the little one who sat in his lap.

“Just did what chu said Ma,” she smiled.

“You did the best babe, that’s why you’re my best girl. We’ve gotta be careful though or you two will definitely get sick.”

Margot coughed. “Oh no.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

[whorhees]

Ghost from your past {Creed III}

Adonis x wife! oc x onesided! Dame

Description: Spoilers for Creed 3. Jade, Adonis, and Dame were all friends when they were teenagers. However, things changed when they all grew apart. Adonis and Jade were able to rekindle their love for each other and even start a family, they get revisited by a ghost that they’ve been trying to forget about.

Authors note: I’m mentally ill for these men so I wrote more self indulgent shit. I’m gonna see how many chapters I can string out, it’s pretty weird that I’m going in reverse anyways but who cares.

{face claim @/aerincreer on Instagram}

Jade sat in her window, staring out at the street.

It was about nine pm, and nothing good happens on the streets of LA past eight. But she was waiting for something, more like someone.

Just then, the lights of a car slowly pulled into view and stopped in front of her house. She grins, leaving her window seat to go downstairs. She tip-toed past her father sleeping on the couch and walked out the front door. She had to push open her gate so it wouldn’t make a loud noise if she punched in the code. Afterward, she ran up to the car and leaned in the roll-down window.

“What you sneakin' around for shawty?” Dame grins as he stared at the light skin girl. “I was just comin' by and seein if you were up. Don’t you got class in the morning?” “Both of y’all got class in the morning” She props her arm up on the window, glancing over at Adonis. He was always nervous to talk to her, even after all these years. “Hey Donnie, why so quiet?” The boy cleared his throat, shaking his head. “That’s funny coming from you. Didn’t you just start learning how to talk?”

Jade rolled her eyes. “Yeah, six years ago. Shut up. Where y’all rolling off to?” “My match,” Dame says proudly, tapping the bag that Adonis had on his lap. “I’m ready to win baby” “Ooh! Can I come? Please?” Jade smiles, leaning towards the back seat. “You said one day I can see your boxing matches, come on Dame!” “Nah Shawty” Jade frowns, her bottom lips forming into a pout. “Why not? C'mon, you promised!” “I know I did. I keep my promises baby, You’ll see me. Check it” Dame fully turns towards her, placing his hand on top of hers.

“You’ll see me, my face plastered everywhere. My name on them announcement posters like Mike Tyson, and, you’ll be there front row when I beat his ass. You and Donnie” Jade’s smile began to grow on her face. Her head cocked to the side, “You better not be lying. Because I still think it’s unfair that I can’t see you fight” Jade backed away from the car, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow”

“Bet. The same spot as always” He nodded, putting the car in drive. “Now sneak back into your castle Rapunzel” Jade flipped Dame off before sneaking back into the gates, locking them behind her.

Adonis looked at Dame, nearly having stars in his eyes. “..Cause one day, I’m gonna save you” He pulled away from Jade’s house and went into the main road. “You like her?” Adonis asked, staring out the rearview mirror. “…Something like that.” Dame turns to his friend and grinned. “When I make it, I’ll do my thing with you, bro. Scoop out some ladies, then settle down with her.

I have it allll planned out”

“Come on Honey and Blue” Jade walked out with dry towels as the twins climbed out of the pool. She promised them that on the first warm day, they could do so, but it was drawing close to the sun setting. “Your dad is going to be home soon” Blue removes his goggles. “Will I get to show him my picture I made today?” “Of course, after you take a bath” Blue grins and ran into the house to a bathroom. Jade turns to her daughter, quiet like always. She signs to her.

‘What’s wrong?’

Honey glanced at her, shaking her head. She moved closer to her mother and leaned into her. Now she got it, she missed Adonis. That’s all. “Don’t worry, he’ll be home soon” Jade picks up the little girl and took her to the bathroom.

Hours passed and Adonis wasn’t home, it was weird. He would usually call if he was going to be at the gym late. She sat on the couch with the twins, watching Blue’s favorite Tv show while honey curled up next to her. The front door finally opened and Jade stood up. “I’ll be back, Blue watch your sister” “Okay mama”

Jade walked down the steps to the front door, her arms crossed. “And where were you?” Adonis turns towards her, a smile on his face. “Baby-“ “I called you multiple times Adonis. You had me worried sick!” Jade playfully smacked his arm. “You aren’t gonna believe who I ran into” Jade tilts her head, her eyebrows knitted together with confusion. “Who?”

“Man…This place is nice…” Jade peered passed her husband, her arms dropping to her side and her eyes widened. “What’s up lil lady?” “Dame…?” He smiled, walking passed Adonis. “At least someone remembered me first. No bullshit” He held his arms out, looking at the woman. “What? No hug for me?” Jade had conflict in her eyes. “Yeah, of course!” She hugged the man, it was strange. Seeing him after all these years.

“And who are these little rascals?” Jade’s eyes snapped open and she pulled back from the hug. She turned around and stared at the twins who stood there, Honey held her brother’s hand who greeted the stranger with a hard unwelcoming stare. “Oh, Dame. These are the twins, Honey and Blue” “Twins…y’all had twins?” Dame crouched down to the height of the children, extending his hand. “Im Uncle Dame”

Blue looked at his parents, his glare didn’t falter. “You’ll have to forgive them. The twins aren’t too fond of strangers” Dame chuckled and stood back. “It’s cool, I would be lookin at a nigga weird if someone I aint know was in my house” Jade glanced at Adonis before walking over to the twins. “It’s bedtime babies, I’ll be up soon okay?” Jade moved Blue’s face gently to look at her. “Okay?”

“…okay” Blue took Honey’s hand and lead her to their shared bedroom.

“How is it possible that they both like you and Adonis? That’s just crazy” Dame turned back to the couple that stared awkwardly at him. “Dame, how have you been? Would you like some dinner?” “Oh please, I would love to” Dame took off his jacket and placed it on the coat rack near the door. “I’ve been cool, Just got out. Tryin' to get my PO off my back” “That’s good…” Jade led the two men to the kitchen, and the chef was finishing up the meal. “Yeah, how have you been Jade?”

“I’ve been okay” Jade moved to put the plates on the table for the three of them. “Got your modeling career off the ground? I had all your shoots when I was in the pin” Jade sat beside her husband. “Did you? I always look at my early work and cringe a bit” “Nah, you still look as good as the last time I saw you” Dame watched as the chef poured the food onto his plate. “Private chef, glass floors…yall really went all Hollywood huh” Adonis chuckled and reached for his fork. “Yeah, I guess you could say that”

“No really, you guys don’t come around the hood no more.” Jade sighed as she picked with her food. “Nothing is for us there anymore. Times changed Dami” Dame smiled, pointing his fork at the girl. “Not long enough if you still callin' me Dami. It’s fine”

It was a long awkward silence, mainly on Jade and Adonis’s part. They didn’t know what to say to the man, he felt like a stranger again. The boy they grew up with, someone they just locked away and tried to forget about…he’s here in their house. “So, what do you plan on doing now that you’re out?” “I want to get back in the game” Jade rose her eyebrow. “The game…As in boxing?” Dame smiled. “Yeah, Adonis promised to put me on”

Jade side-eyes her husband quickly. “Did he…” “I told him I’ll see what I can do” Adonis corrected them, stuffing his face full of food. “Okay,” Jade pushed her plate away. She suddenly lost her appetite but she decided to look at the two men. “You know you can always come to us if you need something” “You don’t need to worry about me, Jade. I’ll get it all together” Jade stood up and gave Dame another hug before going upstairs to check on the kids.

~

Jade sat on the edge of the bed biting her thumb, she couldn’t sleep. She was on edge, her heart ridden with guilt. The door creaked open and she turned her head, Adonis stood in the doorway. “Hey,” He came over and sat beside her, leaning his head on her shoulder. “God I feel so horrible” She mutters quietly. “I stopped writing him a few years ago around the time me and you were getting together, I just couldn’t-“ “Hey, Hey” He grabbed her shoulders, making Jade look at him.

“It’s not your fault…You did more than me” Adonis kissed her forehead. “I never even got any of his letters.” Jade took a deep breath and nodded. “Alright…What did you promise him?” Adonis rubbed the back of his head. “Dame wants a shot in the world league to get the belt” “What?” Jade said astonishingly. “We’re getting old, even you are retired! Dame wouldn’t even have a shot against half those young guys now” “Way to have faith in him” Adonis chuckled. “Faith? I’m being real.” “The man said he kept himself in shape, so we can see”

Jade fell backward on their bed, sighing. “Just…Don’t do anything you’ll regret. You…We don’t owe him that much just because we knew him” Adonis stared at his wife as she pulled the blanket on herself. “At least, that’s what I’m trying to tell myself. I’m gonna come by the gym tomorrow to see so myself” Adonis kissed her forehead, stroking her face. “It’s going to be okay…I’m going to check on the kids” Jade snuggled deeper into the blanket. “Mhm…Okay”

Jade tried to fall into a deep sleep, but her thoughts couldn’t help but linger on her old friend. I don't owe him anything, she tried to convince herself. He made that decision by himself, she reminded. But god, it didn’t help her from feeling less bad.

[ballerinainskzville]

OT8 when they’re sick, skz

Bangchan: refuses to rest with all his power. “Baby, you’re not missing out on anything if you take a nap. You can’t continue working like this”, you’d argue with him and he would disagree. “There’s still so much to do!”, he’d disagree. “You have the next 4 comebacks planned out, missing out on one day doesn’t hurt anybody” He then would only give up and go to bed to about further upsetting and worrying you. Would fall asleep instantly and snore, tiredness taking him in

Lee Know: he’d be his usual teasing self, just less energy. You’d make him chicken soup to feel better and he’d pretend like it’s too sour. But end up eating multiple bowls. Even sick, he’s requested all of your attention. “Promise me to look after my kids when I die”, he’d say before he’s going to sleep.

“Lino, you’re not dying”

“Who can guarantee that I wake up? I need to know my kids are taken care of”

“What about me?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way. The kids are important”

“So I’m not important?”

“I didn’t say that”

Changbin: would require tons and tons of cuddles. One big whiny teddy bear that wants to be looked after but would hate making you do something for him like cooking soup. You’d still make one and he’d compliment you over and over, expressing his gratitude for having you in his life and what he’d do if you weren’t his girl. Debated with you if going for a light walk as exercise would be good for him. Ending up watching action movies.

Hyunjin: definition of whiny would carry his name. Lots of dramatic sighs and complaints. He’d want you to stay further away in case you’d get sick too but stay in the same room. You’d read a book and he’d draw you reading. He’d sneeze and drag his pen accidentally along the page, ruining the sketch. Annoyed, he’d put the sketch block away. His furrowed brows would only soften once you shuffle closer and scoop him up in a tight hug into which he’d melt. “I want to kiss you but I don’t want you to get sick”

“Then get better soon”

“Ha, that’s a good idea. Never thought of it”

“I’m a genius, I know”

“If that makes you feel better about yourself”

“Shut up, Hyun”

“Make me”

“I can’t. You’re sick so I can’t kiss you”

He’d pucker up his lips in an attempt to steal a kiss.

Jisung: he would have trouble asking you to look after him. First, he’d pretend like he’s only tired and needs sleep. Waking up with a fever, he’d panic about what to do and ask you for advice. You’d then sit by his bed, wiping his face, neck, and arms with wet cloths to calm him down after giving him some medicine. He’d sigh with closed eyes and apologize over and over for being sick. You’d make him a light meal and soup and you’d end up watching his (secretly) favorite Barbie movie

Felix: similar to Jisung, he’d pretend like he isn’t sick at all to avoid you worrying about him. Until he begins to burn up and feel nauseous, admitting he needs to lie down because he’s not feeling well. You’d sit next to him, holding his hand while he’s sleeping, playing with his hair while you’re admiring the Star constellations on his face. He’d jerk up awake and then a sigh of the warmth. Feeling vulnerable while he’s sick, he refuses to change out of his sweaty clothes until you assure him that it’s fine and that he’s in trusting hands. Yours. He’d then let you help him and change into fresh clothes with your help before laying down again.

Seungmin: he’d ask you to stop by the pharmacy to grab some medicine. Asking if one of the members is sick, he’d simply say it’s for him. To prevent you from falling ill too, he’d ask you to stay in another room but you’re at each other to catch up on the day. He’d lay in bed, his eyes taking up most of the screen while you’re sitting on the couch of the living room. He’d quiz you to distract himself from nausea and talk until he’d fall asleep over ft. You’d end the call and make him some soup to eat once he’s up again.

Jeongin: he’d ask you if the certain headache is normal and when you’d disagree, he’d simply say “then I’m sick”. Would tell you not to worry and stay home but you’d come over to his dorm to look after him too. He’d have weird food requests, his stomach still hungry as always, and would tell you to just order the food under his name instead of bothering to cook. Which you’d still do. He’d compliment your cooking and apologize for being sick. Feeling bad that you’re looking after him when you were supposed to have a date at the arcade.

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: addiction, serious illness

Totally done and still sad because I saw Daniel and this stupid girl today I came home after work. Nico wasn’t home yet. I was kind of relieved about that. I wasn't sure, if I should tell him? I mean, nothing happened, but what I said to Daniel today was just not ok! It was totally unfair and selfish.

As soon as I got home, I went for a walk with N.’s dog. Back home I took a shower & I lay down on the bed. I wasn’t feeling so well. I got serv pain in my right knee and my hands also hurt. It bothered me so much, that I had to take a painkiller. After that it slowly got better while I fell asleep.

A little later N. came home. I heard him come up to the bedroom and watch me sleep. Nico has an extraordinary talent for disturbing me while sleeping. No, tbh it's really cute. Every morning before he leaves the house, he comes back to the bedroom to me, while I’m mostly still sleeping. He kisses me and tells me quietly that he loves me. In the beginning I found it hard to get used to. It's annoying to be woken up by him in the morning (5.00 am!) just because he has to kiss me. Yk? It wasn’t until he was gone (abroad), that I realized how much I missed being woken up by him in the morning.🩷 But back to that day, it was not in the morning, but in the evening.

N. saw the painkillers I had taken next to me on the bed, thinking I was sick or something.

Nico: Hey babe.... Are you ok?

Me: M-hm... Yea, I'm ok.... Where were you? I missed you.

Nico: I said good-bye to Damien and the others. They’re going back to Italy tomorrow.

Me: Yea, without you.... You stay here, with me. So happy about that. Right now I need you with me. I've had a really, really bad day N.... And you? How is your new team? Are they nice?

Nico: Agh...well, what can I say? Germans, yk?🤷‍♀️😉 But it was ok and it’s nice to be home, not somewhere alone abroad ..... Did you see Dilek today?

Me: No, she’s sick. She stayed home.

Nico: Are you sick too? I see you’ve taken painkillers.

Me: My knee hurt again. Somehow my whole body hurts, my hands and legs... But I'm fine. 🙂

Nico: You should tell your doc. You are pregnant. Maybe it has something to do with it?

Me: Yea, but don't worry. I know this pain. It's nothing. I’ve had this pain since I was a kid. It comes and goes, but it’s not serious. My muscles and bones are just very sensitive to pain. 🫤

Nico: It’s all right, babe. But if I see you get pain again, I’ll take you to your doc. I don’t want to scare you, you know that! But you don’t hurt for no reason. Sure, it's nothing, but it’s better to get it checked out before you need to take painkillers again.

Me: Chill Nico!! I know you’re afraid I might get addicted to painkillers . But c'mon, N.! It's just ibuprofen. 😄🤷‍♀️My pill addiction is past. I know I was difficult for you back then, but I promise, this won’t happen anymore. Love you.

Nico didn’t worry about my pill addiction, but actually about the pain I had. A few days ago, my knee hurt so badly that I could not walk. I even cried. But after I took a painkiller, it stopped again. That pain I had in my muscles and bones will get really bad after delivery. Not immediately after delivery, a few months later. But I do not want to draw too much attention to this issue now. Later, when the time comes, I will explain this in more detail. These were the first symptoms of a serious illness. Since CML is not so easy to diagnose, it will take a while for me to get the diagnosis.

And about Daniel I didn't tell Nico. I was happy with N. and we’re about to have a Baby, so I decided to somehow forget Daniel and let him go. But something happened that night!😞 Daniel texted me at 1:00 a.m. I’ll see him tomorrow again. 😢

Previous/Next

[gt-ambi]

Greater and More Terrible

On a quest to slay a malevolent witch, a knight of the realm goes missing. Fearful of what fate may have befallen the knight, his squire, Elliott, sets off into the witch's domain in search of his master. The young man soon comes face to face with the witch herself and falls victim to a powerful curse. Reduced to less than half a foot tall and imprisoned in the witch's cabin, can Elliott find a way to break the curse and escape? Or will he meet his end and disappear without a trace in the shadowed depths of the forest the witch calls home?

Masterpost

Preface

Hello all! This is my first foray into the Tumblr g/t community, though I've been lurking here for a few years. I'm excited (although a bit nervous) to finally be posting something. I have a few other story ideas that I'm working on here and there, and I can't promise any kind of consistent update schedule, but regardless, my number one goal is to tell a decent story, so I hope you enjoy! I welcome any feedback, comments, criticisms, etc.

Chapter One: Alone

In which Elliott makes one brave, somewhat questionable decision and a few less brave, definitely questionable decisions. Running blindly through the forest is probably a fine thing to do, right? And what's that saying - always trust strangers? I think that's how it goes, anyway. *Note* - there's no g/t in the story yet, but there will be! I just gotta cook a little, first.

CW: General Fear, Pain, Embarrassment, Poor Survival Skills, and a Squirrel-Related Inciting Incident

Next Chapter: Coming Soon...

Word Count: 3,479

The food would last another day – maybe two, if Elliott was careful with it. After that, he would be in trouble. He wasn’t any kind of outdoorsman, and he was sure that a novice trying to hunt or forage in the witch’s woods might as well be asking to meet the gods of death. As the name suggested, a witch of great power and ill repute had supposedly claimed the forest as her territory, and Elliott didn’t want to risk drawing her attention.

If it came down to it, he supposed there was always the food set aside for Sir Geoffrey. On the other hand, if the knight came back and found that his squire had stolen from his pack… Elliott shuddered at the thought. That wasn’t an option.

He is going to come back, isn’t he?

It wasn’t the first time he’d had the thought since Sir Geoffrey left him here four days ago, in the clearing where they had set up their camp. The first day had been almost nice, aside from the general anxiety of being alone in a supposedly cursed (or haunted, depending on who you asked) forest. Days apart from Sir Geoffrey were a rare gift—a break from the insults and the so-called training that left Elliott with bruises more than anything else.

The second day, the peace of solitude gave way to the unease of isolation, but Elliott hadn’t been worried about Sir Geoffrey. It only made sense that finding the witch’s lair and slaying her would take more than a day, even after leaving behind the “dead weight”, as Sir Geoffrey had so kindly phrased it.

On the third day, as morning settled into afternoon with no sign of the night, the thought tickled the back of Elliott’s mind for the first time. Is Sir Geoffrey all right? He tried to push it down, to tell himself it was an irrational question. Of course, Sir Geoffrey was all right—he was a knight of the realm, a champion of the people, a vanquisher of evil! And yet, despite his efforts, the worry wormed its way deep into Elliott’s thoughts, repeating again and again through the rest of the day, until he dozed off into fitful sleep that night.

This morning, Elliott had been torn from slumber by horrible, shrill chittering. He woke with a start, sure that some awful beast of the haunted (or cursed) forest was descending to take his life. In his tired haze, he groped for his nearby walking stick—the closest thing he had to a weapon. Armed as well as he could be, he sprang to his feet, ready to fight for his life.

There was no monster to slay, no magical creature to fend off. The raucous noise came from a half-dozen squirrels fighting over, around, and in Elliott’s pack. He stared at them, almost disappointed, until one of them popped up over the lip of the pack with a chunk of bread. Then, in a horrible flash, Elliott realized they had been fighting over his food. He charged at the rodents, screaming and waving his stick wildly.

The squirrels scattered, but the damage had already been done. The rations that were supposed to last him another week had been ravaged. Elliott salvaged everything he could, but what hadn’t been eaten outright was largely inedible, trampled in the dirt or torn to shreds and covered in fur.

Elliott’s chewed on his lower lip as he considered the predicament. His leg bounced nervously. He already wasn’t thrilled about being in the witch’s forest, but he had taken some solace in the assurance of the camp—if nothing else, he had a tent to sleep in, and food to eat. But now, the camp didn’t seem like such a haven.

Elliott was once again keenly aware that the forest penned him in on all sides. The ancient trees loomed at the edge of the clearing like giants standing at attention. Their broad branches hung heavy with leaves and cast dark shadows on the forest floor. Elliott’s view of the autumn sky was reduced to a blue circle high above him and whatever flecks he could spy through the shifting red-and-gold canopy. Any other direction he looked, all he could see was the forest.

Surrounded by the sea of trees, low on food, and with no sign of Sir Geoffrey, Elliott suddenly felt very small. That was hardly new – even at eighteen years old, he stood only five-foot-four, and he had a young face. When combined with his baggy tunic, which he’d owned since he was fifteen and still thought he would grow into it, Elliott appeared younger and smaller than he was, and people often treated him as less than significant. But where people were might be rude, or even malicious, the forest felt hungry. Elliott didn’t feel denigrated or offended—he felt hunted.

“Okay,” he said aloud, as if breaking the silence would ease the panic rising in his throat. “What options do I have?” He would make a list, that’s what he’d do. Lists were good. Lists made order out of chaos. Lists let you look objectively at a situation. A list would help him find the right course of action.

“Option one: starve to death.”

No! Idiot! He shook his head. Not an option. Try again.

“Option one: stay here and keep waiting. It’s not like I have no food left. Maybe I can stick it out for a while longer. I mean, Sir Geoffrey could be on his way back right now, for all I know.”

Assuming he’s coming back at all, his brain added helpfully. He tried to ignore it, but it had a point. If Elliott waited, and Sir Geoffrey didn’t come back, then he’d be in a worse situation than before.

“Option two,” he continued. “Try to get out of the forest. There’s that village we passed before—if I can make it there, then I can resupply and…” He trailed off. And what? He asked himself. Come back and wait some more? That wouldn’t solve anything. Besides, if Sir Geoffrey was coming back, it would probably be soon. If he wasn’t coming back, then he was either in serious trouble, or he was dead—and the more time passed, the more likely it was to be the second possibility. So that wasn’t an option either, which only left…

“Option three.” Elliott’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He didn’t want to say it. If he said it, it was real. If it was real, he’d have to do it. He really wished he didn’t have to do it.

“Option three,” he repeated. “Go looking for Sir Geoffrey myself.” It was a horrible idea. Elliott wouldn’t stand a chance against anything that Sir Geoffrey couldn’t handle. What’s more, if the knight returned to camp while he was away, Elliott wasn’t certain that Sir Geoffrey would wait for him to return. Even so, Elliott had a responsibility to uphold. If Sir Geoffrey might be in trouble, Elliott was honor-bound to at least try to help him.

Elliott groaned loudly and started to gather his things. Sure, he was probably walking straight into certain death, but he might as well be prepared in case he wasn’t. He couldn’t carry everything, though. He’d have to make some choices. The food would come with him, of course, both his own and Sir Geoffrey’s. The tent would have to stay, and so would one of the bedrolls—trying to strap both to his pack threw off his balance. His walking stick was invaluable, as it would at least give him a chance to try and protect himself. The cookware was too heavy and took up too much space, so it had to stay as well. The rest of the space in his pack was claimed by the tinderbox, an extra water skin, and the emergency supplies—bandages and such.

When he was done, Elliott slung the heavy, wood-framed bag onto his shoulders and picked up his stick. He stood at the edge of camp and looked out into the forest, at the gap in the trees where he had last seen Sir Geoffrey.

Is this really a good idea? Elliott thought. Part of him wanted nothing more than to turn around, go back to the tent, and pretend like nothing was happening. No, he decided, this is definitely not a good idea. But I don’t have a choice. He gritted his teeth. He could do this. He had to do this. He took a deep breath and, on shaking legs, strode away from the camp, into the depths of the forest.

~~~

A few hours later, Elliott found himself deeply regretting his choice. The gnarled, twisting branches of ancient trees reached toward him from every angle. They caught and tugged at his clothing and pack as though trying to pull them into their embrace. Though Elliott knew the sun must be nearing its zenith, the shadows seemed darker than ever, and heavy as pitch where they settled in the brush. The undergrowth hissed with the passage of dozens—no, hundreds, or even thousands!—of unseen creatures. In Elliott’s mind’s eye, each rustle marked a monster fouler than the last.

His breath hitched painfully in his chest. His aching eyes begged him to blink. His knees threatened to give out from beneath him. He couldn’t stop himself from trembling. Even so, he kept moving.

This is what a knight must do, he thought. A knight must not quail in the face of their fears. He repeated it over and over, clinging to the thought like flotsam after a shipwreck. It bobbed and tipped in the sea of Elliott’s fear. If it sank, there would be nothing keeping Elliott apart from the great, dark terror below—the truth he was doing his best to ignore. The truth that however awful the forest was, the witch, greater and more terrible than anything in her dread domain, was waiting at the end of Elliott’s quest.

He stopped briefly, giving into some of his body’s demands. He leaned heavily on his walking stick, blinked the tears from his eyes and shifted his pack to sit more comfortably on his shoulders. When he was ready to move again, he looked up.

Something looked back at him.

A pair of predatory eyes, pale green tinged with yellow, gleamed dimly from within the brush. Elliott’s instinct took over; almost before he knew what was happening, he was running. The branches which had tugged at him before now struck him as he rushed past, carving bright, hot lines across his face. He threw his free arm up to take the worst of it. It cost him his vision, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care where he was going as long as he escaped whatever lurked the darkness.

Fate, it seemed, had other plans for Elliott that day. At that moment, his foot landed wrong. Caught in the thicket at full speed, he pitched forward with a crack. Blinding pain shot through his lower leg. His shoulder slammed into the trunk of a tree and he caromed off it, crashing to the ground and rolling through the brush. It almost slowed his momentum enough to keep him from going over the edge. Almost.

The half-second of freefall nearly stopped Elliott’s heart. He landed hard on sloped ground, finding no reprieve from his agony as he continued to roll, now careening down the side of the steep hill. The stones and vegetation littering the hill did little to slow him. Every bump sent waves of pain through his body, radiating out from his leg. It was less painful when he rolled over top of his pack, but only just. The objects inside rattled and the wooden frame creaked ominously. His walking stick caught fast on something and was torn from his hand.

Elliott tucked his head to his chest. It was all he could do. Tears streamed down his face. He was dimly aware that he was screaming. Gods, please, he thought desperately. Please save me. Please let it stop.

As if in answer to his prayers, the base of the hill appeared beneath Elliott. The slope flattened, suddenly and jarringly, to level ground, and Elliott came to a shuddering stop on his side.

His head spun. His ears rang. His eyes and throat burned. His leg throbbed with pain as bad as he had ever felt. Every inch of his body hurt. His breathing was ragged, and his heart pounded as though it were trying to break through his ribs.

The outside world was lost to Elliott—his body’s misery commanded his attention. Time was likewise a mystery. He didn’t know how long he lay on the forest floor, wracked with pain. It might have been mere moments. It felt like hours.

After some time, the pain began to subside. Elliott’s breath steadied. It wasn’t so bad anymore. Even the stabbing agony in his leg had dulled to a sharp ache.

“Are you all right?”

Elliott flinched at the unfamiliar voice. He hadn’t realized he was no longer alone. Who were they? How long had they been there? Elliott stiffly uncurled and raised his head.

A woman crouched at Elliott’s side, brows deeply furrowed over amber eyes filled with concern. One hand rested on Elliott’s knee. The woman appeared to be around thirty, though life had apparently spared her the common ravages of disease and injury, as her smooth, olive skin bore no scars that Elliott could see, pox or otherwise. Her thick, dark hair was swept to one side and curled past her shoulders. The sleeves of her simple, cream-colored blouse were pushed up to her elbows, and mud stained her deep green skirt at the knees.

“Are you all right?” The woman asked again. She spoke softly, but her voice was steady and strong, and it flowed like warm honey. It might just have been the relief of seeing another person for the first time in days, but Elliott found something about her voice reassuring.

“Ah, y-yes,” Elliott stammered. He scrambled to his feet, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg, and looked himself over. A few cuts here and there, a few bruises, and of course, his leg still hurt, but aside from that (and his fresh coating of dirt and leaves), he was basically intact. “I’m all right, I think. Mostly. That is, I’m more or less all right. Still in one piece, anyway.” He mentally kicked himself. Stop rambling! “Thank you for asking,” he finished lamely.

The woman stood as well. To Elliott’s surprise, she was a few inches shorter than him. He didn’t often meet many people who were. “I’m glad to hear it,” the woman said with a smile. “That was a nasty fall.”

Elliott’s face flushed, and the tips of his ears burned. “Oh. You… you saw that?” It was one embarrassment after another.

“I heard it from the trail,” she said, and pointed away from the hill. Beyond the trees, a narrow path of worn dirt wound through the forest. A lidded wicker handbasket sat on the side of the path. “It was a bit of a shock at first,” the woman continued. Her smile grew slightly mischievous. “I was worried there was a banshee haunting the woods. Of course, banshees don’t make so much noise outside of the screaming, so I realized that couldn’t be it and came to take a look.”

Elliott’s flush deepened at the joke. Gods above, she must think I’m an absolute idiot. “It seemed worse in the moment,” he said by way of an explanation. “Really, I’m just grateful I didn’t get more badly injured.”

“Small blessings,” the woman said. Her eyes sparkled like she was holding back laughter.

What was funny about that? Elliott wondered. The thought was quickly pushed aside by a sudden realization. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I’ve been so rude! I haven’t introduced myself yet.” He brushed the front of his clothes as best as he could and gave the woman a small bow. “Elliott Weathersby, at your service, ma’am.”

The woman shook her head. “If you’ve been rude, then so have I. Please, call me Laurel. No need for the ‘ma’am’, either. I’m no more a lady than I am a king. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Elliott.

“The pleasure is mine, m—” Elliott caught himself. “Laurel,” he corrected, somewhat sheepishly.

This time, Laurel did laugh. Elliott could tell it wasn’t mean-spirited, but his meager pride felt the blow anyway. He felt foolish a lot of the time, but right now, he may as well have been a court jester.

“Well,” Laurel said, “now that we’ve officially met each other, I have to ask—how did you end up in a heap at the bottom of a hill this deep in the forest, anyway?” She looked bemused. “I don’t usually see anyone out here at all, let alone in the…” She tilted her head and waved a hand vaguely in his direction. “…state you seem to have found yourself in.

Elliott scratched the back of his head and glanced away. “It’s a bit of a long story,” he said, determined to not appear more foolish than he already did. “To put it briefly, I’m looking for my traveling companion. He went off on his own a few days ago, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Laurel frowned. “Rather inconsiderate of him to wander off like that. What does he look like? It’s possible we’ve crossed paths.”

“You would probably know if you had seen him. He’s a knight, after all.”

If Elliott had been more alert, less weary, or less distracted by his lingering aches and pains, he might have noticed the momentary pause before Laurel responded. He might have heard the slight change in the tone of her voice as she asked, “A knight?” He might have remembered Sir Geoffrey’s warnings to be wary while in the woods.

But he wasn’t. And he didn’t.

“Right,” he nodded. “Armor, sword, steed, all of it. The very image of chivalry.”

Laurel folded her arms. “Except for the part where he left you alone in the woods.”

“No, no, that’s different!” Elliott assured her. “He has a very important job to do. I’m just a squire, and a poor one at that. I would have just been in the way, so it was for the best.”

“Hm.” Laurel didn’t seem particularly assuaged by the explanation. “In any case, I haven’t seen any knights. That being said, I did find a horse wandering in the forest yesterday. Could it be your errant knight’s?”

Elliott’s stomach dropped. He tried to stay calm. Maybe it was just a coincidence. “Was it a white mare?” he asked. “Did the saddle pad have crests of roosters on either side?”

“It was a white mare, yes, but she didn’t have any kind of tack on when I found her.”

Elliott’s concern grew. “None at all? No saddle, no reins, no bit or bridle?” He could feel his worries rising, like a pot about to boil over. “Did she have any distinctive markings, or a brand, or anything like that?

“I’m not sure…” Laurel tapped her chin and thought for a moment. She snapped her fingers. “How about this? My home isn’t far from here. Why don’t you just come with me and see her for yourself.”

Elliott nodded. “I would appreciate that very much, thank you.” The sense of relief that had been growing over the course of the conversation had all but shattered. His mind raced, conjuring up all the most horrible, gruesome things that might have happened. The only thing keeping his anxiety from becoming panic was the possibility that it was a different horse.

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” Laurel said. She walked back toward the path. “Follow me.”

At the side of the path, Laurel stooped to pick up her basket. “I can carry that,” Elliott blurted. Laurel looked at him quizzically. “Not that you need me to,” he added hastily. “Just that—well, my mother always told me that one good turn deserves another, and you’re helping me, so I—I should help you, if I can.” “I suppose I won’t say no, if you’re so eager to offer,” Laurel said with a shrug. She raised a warning finger. “But let me know if your leg hurts too much, and I’ll take it back. There’s no need for you to overtax yourself."

“I will,” Elliott agreed. She held out the basket, and he took it. The damp, earthy scent of mushrooms rose from within.

“All right, then.” Laurel turned and set off down the trail. Slinging the basket over his arm and into the crook of his elbow, Elliott followed.

[bunny-j3st3r]

I'm trying not to think about what happened this evening because it makes me mad so I'm just gonna write this thing again for @saytrrose

His eyes fluttered open.

He was laying in an open field, a beautiful blue sky and rolling clouds slowly moving by above him.

Where was he? What happened last time? He was... In the circus right?

"____ hurry up!"

He heard someone speaking, calling out his name but he couldn't quite make it out.

"Are you going to sleep all day?"

He slowly began to sit up, something felt... Different.

His body felt different.

He looked at his hands "... When..." They weren't how they normally are... No that's not right, they were BACK to what they were... Human.

"___ Come on! We'll miss it!"

He looked over, squinting his eyes in the light at who was calling him, he couldn't quite make her out, but her voice.... He knew who that was. His chest rose and he felt his breath hitch, butterflies raging on in his heart.

"Queenie."

"Oh not that nickname again." She laughed.

He stood up, walking towards her "I thought you had gone..."

"Gone?"

"Yes, you were with me in the circus and then-" He noticed something. Why couldn't he get closer? No matter how close he tried to get, she was always just ut of reach.

"Queenie."

"Come on, we have to get going you know, you promised."

"Promised?"

"We were going to play that game today."

He jolted awake, hand grabbing at his chest as he shook, tears streaming down his eyes as he glanced around.

He was back, the circus...

He jolted from his bed, grabbing at a set of draws near his bedside and yanking them open, throwing item after item out before wrapping his hands around a notebook.

He flipped it open quickly and inside seemed to be the writings of someone, not his own, someone he knew.

Each writing had information about this game, about the exit, about the npcs, about caine, about the company.

And then he got to the end of the book, a letter inside.

'My king.

I do not know if you will ever come back to me, I do not know if we will ever escape.

Each day I watch as you slip further from me, each day I regret playing this game with you, pushing you into it for the sake of some research.

If I've ever abstracted I am leaving this note with you, I think you will forget me as soon as I am gone... But I am okay with this, it is for the best.

I hope one day your mind may return, the others think ill of you, an old man who has lost his mind but they do not know you like I do.

You need to return, you need to remember your research.

I am sorry...

Forever yours my love.

Your Queen.'

He shook for a moment, a hand rubbing at his head and he clutched at the notes.

And then.

His mind was gone.

[goldaegontargaryen]

Character Challenge for A Song of Golden Fire and Black Blood

Prompt:

Write a scene of your character preparing for King Viserys's funeral.

__________________________________________________________

The King was dead.  

It was easier to think about things that way.  He could make it through the King’s funeral.  He had no idea how to react to the idea of his father’s funeral.  There were too many complicated emotions caught up in his father’s name and the title of his relationship to him.  It was easier for Aegon to separate himself from the personal nature of it all when he only thought of his father by his title.  

Almost as if they were reinforcing his thoughts, the bells signaling the death of the King rang continuously, scattering most of his thoughts as soon as they entered his head.  He focused on completing one task after the other.  He stepped into his boots.  He forced his unsteady fingers to buckle the various straps attached to them.  He pulled on his coat.  Just actions with no meaning.  That was the only way he could make it through the day.  

Just as he finished dressing, the door flew open and a small shape ran across the room.  He recognized Maelor just as his son threw his arms around him and Maelor’s constantly tired maid, Janna, ran in after him.  She was already appropriately dressed in dark mourning colors, though her chase after Maelor had brought a bright color into her cheeks.  “I’m so sorry, my prince.  I told him you were busy getting ready, but the little prince insisted and slipped away from me.”  

Aegon waved away her worries.  Maelor was also already dressed in the dark outfit chosen for the funeral and even his wild curls had been tamed into some sort of order.  “It’s alright, Janna.  I’ll help him finish getting ready.”  

“Are you sure?  I wouldn’t want to put any extra pressure on you with your father—” 

“I’ll be fine,” he promised, quickly cutting her off.  The last thing he wanted to hear right now was condolences about his father.  He would have to suffer through those all day as it was.  “Having him around will cheer me.”

Janna slowly nodded and shut the door behind her, though Aegon didn’t miss the expression of pity on her face.  She’d known that Aegon and Viserys weren’t close, but he supposed the passing of a father received pity from all, even if he hadn’t much cared about his children when he was alive.  

He looked down to his son who was still clinging to him with his eyes firmly fixed on Aegon’s face, his expression focused.  “Jaehaerys said I wasn’t supposed to bother you and mother.”  

“Why did he say that?”

“He said that you were going to be sad because of the funeral today.”  

Aegon brushed an errant curl behind Maelor’s ear.  “Jaehaerys was wrong.  You can bother me all you want.  But your mother may need her space today, I’m not sure.”  Aegon hadn’t talked to her as much as he should have.  Both of them had gone their separate ways to prepare for the funeral and to start to process their individual grief.  

“What are funerals like?” Maelor asked, finally releasing his tight hold to sit on a stool that stood by the dressing table.  

“They’re very sad and usually very boring.”  

“Will Baelon be sad?” Maelor’s closest friend in the castle was Rhaenyra’s youngest son, whose name Aegon usually couldn’t remember but thankfully Maelor had reminded him.  

“I imagine so.  The King was already very ill by the time he was born, but his mother is going to be very sad and I imagine that will make him sad too.  Be patient with him.”  

To his surprise, Maelor didn’t follow up his last question immediately with another one.  It was strange for him to be quiet, but Aegon allowed him his silence as he put on his jewelry.  The only things he bothered to adorn himself with were his sun ring and his wedding ring from Helaena.  The last thing he wanted was to draw any attention to himself.  

“I think I’m sad too,” Maelor finally said, breaking the silence.  His face was creased with deliberation as if he was working out a difficult problem given to him by his Septa.  “But not because of grandfather.  He was scary.”  

“He was very sick when you visited him.  He was a kind and peaceful man.”  That would be how he was remembered.  Not by Aegon, but by most.  “Why are you sad?”

“Because you’re sad.  I can tell.”

“Oh Maelor, I’m not—” To his shock, Aegon was forced to stop talking, his throat suddenly feeling tight.  

Before he could recover himself, Maelor had already run back over to hug him again.  “Can I hold your hand at the funeral, father?  And mother’s too?  To help you feel better?”  

Aegon quickly nodded, wrapping his arms tightly around his son.  

Maybe he would make it through his father’s funeral.

[artofthegreyscalerainbow]

Day 11 of Inktober 2022: Squirrel

I took a few days off due to illness, drawing is really difficult to do right now. I promise, I will post the days I missed soon, as I finish them. For today’s prompt, I chose Felldoh. 

“Best you can do, slave?” 

“I am not a slave of yours,” Felldoh’s voice roared back at him. “My name is Felldoh and I’ve come to kill you, Badrang!”

Another javelin came hurtling through the air. This time Badrang jumped back to his former position, shrugging expressively as the pointed wood sailed off towards the back wall of the fortress. “Tut, tut, missed again. You’ll run out of those things soon!”

Quivering with rage, Felldoh held up a javelin in both paws. He broke it as if it were a straw. “I could break you like that if you weren’t such a mud-sucking coward. Come down and fight me, paw to paw, beast to beast!”

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 10: Kimmy and the Kalmia Kid

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter

Summary of chapter: Lust and purity fall as drops into the same pool of Kisame's mind, and he's concerned that they blend so well instead of mixing like oil and water. A flower festival proves to be one of the most challenging missions he's taken on since becoming an Akatsuki. What does it mean to maintain a lady's honor?

Author's Note: Two songs are used here, the first one being Woah There Kimmy by Felix Hagan and the Family. Second song is Kalmia Kid by chloe moriondo. Minor content warning: this one is saucy and has vague discussions of prostitution that doesn't actually happen. But while we know that, Kisame does not.

*slaps the fanfic* This baby can fit so much self serving mental illness, autism, bisexuality, and polyamory in it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I’m so sainted, untainted

Scrubbed up and squeaky clean

My virtue will serve you

Delight that’s so pristine

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

What has Kisame done today to deserve his eyes?

White sheets wash over their heads like seafoam of a tide. He senses her with every part of his anatomy. The woman raises her head, hair falling over her shoulders. It is immediately known that those hooded eyes desire him just as much as Kisame achingly desires her. Thirsty, soft lips part as she lifts herself up, drawing closer to the man as their bright snowy backdrop gently tents overtop her exquisite body. She’s so small compared to he as she leans above him, but the view he gets of her now fills his whole world. He is so, so hungry for her flesh, and he is ready to taste every square inch of it.

As he reaches a hand forward to guide her mouth to his, Kisame wakes up.

The sound of her sigh disappears as he gapes for air, throwing himself straight up in bed, heart racing as he grips the covers between tense fingers. Tweet, tweet, tweet. The morning birds mock him from the windowsill as Kisame begins to recover from his beautiful, terrible dream. Each hurried breath leads to one just a bit slower until the very last one comes as a groan behind a worried frown. The air is cold upon as his bare back now that he’s sitting up, and a hand holds his forehead in grief. He waits a moment. The blood in him needs to calm down before he moves from the mattress and begins the day, lest he spend more of it feeling like a lowlife.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That’s what I tell myself

Well you’ve torn those lies apart

Just touch my wrist and for that instant

I’m yours with all my heart

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His tormentors, dreadful and cute feathered things, seem to follow him from the outside trees down the staircase, into the hallway, and down past the kitchen. He pauses as he’s about to walk by the entryway of the room, his hair nearly touching the ceiling as he looks over his shoulder and towards the vase. The little blue daisies he bought have disappeared, not a day after they started to show decay. It’s a mildly disconcerting turn of events, though as far as bad things go this is probably in the bottom two or three of things that actually matter right now, which is not a hard award to achieve when bloodshed is the name of your game. Still...if the lady is so picky about her flowers, it wouldn’t hurt to replace them for her. A conversation begins under his breath as he walks over the floor he’s repaired, picking up the empty vase in his hands.

Ah...to get more would mean to go back to the florist that missed her. Maybe it’s time he considered keeping a promise. But is it a good idea to go so soon? Perhaps wait until his lusty heart clears up and he can behave like a human being in front of—

“Good morning!”

—Her.

The straps of her dress fall more loosely than he noticed before, as she surprises him from behind. Eyes trail down from the shoulders he’s massaged down the cleavage that teases ever so slightly in her neckline, down to the curves at her waist where the fabric hugs so lovingly—

“Mm?”

Goddammit.

Fish eyes return to her own, which are to his gratitude unwitting. To her, Kisame seems simply as if he is just waking up. “Sorry if I kept you up too late.” An apology, already, though from the warmth in her smile it is merely a formality. The birds continue to balk loudly behind the man’s ears, as if he’s not overwhelmed enough. Just shake your head enough, Kisame, and maybe it’ll knock the thoughts out.

“I’ve stayed up later,” he shrugs. Bashfully, the princess raises her shoulders, too, tilting her head.

“Not me, not really. I’m more of a morning person. It was nice, though!” A pause. He’s a bit...quieter than she expected. “...Did you have a nice time?”

Kisame remembers, of course, as two of the most gorgeous people in not one but two universes graced him with their presence until midnight, leaving him with longing and regret that he was so much of a bastard in a past life to curse this one with a shark’s mug and a penchant for unforgivable violence.

“It was alright.” He corrects, though, as the woman raises her shoulder higher just so her head can dip lower in disapproval. “I’m not used to that kind of thing, that’s all.”

What, having friends? She’s so fucking glad that this was NOT one of her slips of the tongue and stays in a shameful little corner in her head where such malice fucking belongs.

“Well...I appreciate it, then.” The traveler nods to finish the conversation, about to make her leave—

“Hold on,” a groggy voice stops her in her place. “What do you think about going to the village today?” As the woman mumbles in questioning interest, he elaborates. “I didn’t know you’d been there before. Turns out, someone misses you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Woah

Step back and slap myself sane

Now lust erupts to leave shame

Bad little man, catch him and make him say:

Woah there, Kimmy

I’m not that kind of boy

I’m not some womanizing, self-defiling

Slave to my own joy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A lot of someones missed her, actually. The star of the show walks out of the shop first, a twig of forget-me-nots behind her ear and straw-colored sunhat cooling her face with its shadow.

“Wow. I didn’t realize she liked me that much.”

Kisame did, a man having become a walking bouquet of flowers of every shape and size that are together so large you can’t even see the bottom half of his face.

“You don’t say?”

She hums in the negative, though her tone is pleased. “We just talked in the morning, when I used to come down for lunch.”

“Lunch?”

A hum in the positive. “Kakuzu used to give me an allowance. I’d come over every day for it, and the entrance closest on the path here is always right by the flower shop.”

“...I see.” He had wondered why she was trying to lead the way for such a long walk it was to the town. It’s one she knows well. Another thought scratches his brain, though:

“Did you really just say Kakuzu gave you an allowance?”

“Oh, yeah. Just enough for lunch at the market.”

Well, that is a thing that Kisame never expected to hear in his lifetime or, frankly, any other in any timeline or in any dimension. He huffs a chuckle to mask confusion with amusement, tilting his head past an iris to see where he’s being led by the girl now. Someone too busy to stay gives her an excited wave as they wander by, one she returns as if she recognizes them.

“...Rather interesting he’d give up his own change. Must have put quite an impression upon him, to get a single coin from that miser.”

“Oh! It was technically mine. He said it came from my tips.”

What. What?

“Tips?”

“From the work he got for me.”

...

What???

The ghost of the still very alive florist looms over his shoulder, repeating something he had forgotten until now:

She was with others like you. She visited our village alone in the day, and they brought her back by night.

“Kisame?”

All of a sudden, he sees how everyone acknowledges her, if they so choose. He sees them with eyes half closed, lips parting, moving towards the oblivious siren. But the knight’s ward is not oblivious to him, to how he stops in place. She steps forward to stand right in front of him and look up, hoping he recognize her and say what’s wrong. Kisame feels as if the crowd of people is inching closer and closer to circle her like prey.

“AH! Kisame-!”

A coral-toned azalea ends up underneath someone’s shoe as a sacrifice, as Kisame frees one arm to quickly shuffle his princess away from immodesty. Turns out when a fish blushes, their cheeks turn purple. Oh, dammit…

The air is much cooler in the shade of the thin alleyway, the smell of trash an absolutely delightful addition to the aroma of flowers. His head is held again, dipping with the weight of a very likely reality that he was foolish enough to bring her back to. She repeats his name again, more commandingly as she begs to be recognized, but the shark can’t speak until he knows what to say.

“Kisame...?” He’s scaring her, now. The woman approaches from behind, gripping both hands on one arm and tilting forward as much as she can so as to put herself in front of his sight. He can’t bring himself to match her gaze.

“...I’m sorry.”

“...Huh?”

But he can’t give further answer at the drop of a hat. Whatever it is, it’s deeply affecting him, as he frowns so hard that lips lining sharp teeth begin to twitch. The woman knows, though, what it is like to be so overwhelmed you cannot talk, so she merely, gradually, moves herself in front of him again so that she is right there whenever he is ready.

Being able to look down the top of her dress is not helping. He’s no better than the rest of them. Kakuzu, though...he’ll pay for this. He really made a girl as sweet as her the village prostitute. Shame chokes his neck.

“I shouldn’t have brought you.”

“...What are you talking about?”

“To see them again. I’m—...certain you’re uncomfortable. I’m certain your...occupation...was not one where you want to return.”

She furrows her brow. “What? Well...just because I met most of them in a different place at night doesn’t mean they can’t talk to me when I’m not at work.” She talks as if she could just...waltz back into the job any second she wanted to. Fish eyes cast her under a new light that makes his heart ache and race:

Did she enjoy it?

Kisame makes himself look squarely at her boots instead of any part of her body, innocent or otherwise. Sex work is work, of course, and fine when done safely and without duress, but...she didn’t strike him as the type. Does that childish veneer really carry such sultry expertise underneath? On her side of the back alley, the performer is only about halfway to deciphering what this is about, but lacking a full answer doesn’t keep her from acting upon her instinct to comfort the man.

His stare jumps up as she takes both of his hands, and before they can wander, they pin to the flower in her hair.

"I’m okay,” she assures, and she means it. “I liked my job. Everyone treated me nicely and if they didn’t, Hidan helped me out.” Kisame tries to imagine the silver-haired demon as chivalrous for the first time they’ve started wearing the same clouds. It is very, very difficult. “Kakuzu arranged everything so while I just...did my thing, we got paid and everyone went home.” For some reason, she knows, it’s important to her guardian that everything was safe. Were Hidan and Kakuzu really that mean to other people…? Grumpy, yeah— also yeah okay they were killers or whatever— but they didn’t start any fights! Yet! “I was safe. I was never scared.”

"...You weren't forced into it, were you?"

It is not a good thing that she shrugs as an initial response. He nearly has a heart attack and half a mind to shave the zombies shred by shred to see if they'd still technically be alive.

"He kinda pushed me to try it...but it worked out. I enjoyed myself." An index finger and a middle finger on either hand cross, framing a nearly silly smirk. "Promise!"

Beside himself, Kisame memorizes the shape of tiny blue petals around yellow dots until he can see them with his eyes closed. She was safe...she was happy. Why does it bother him so much, then? She is not his; the carnal desire for that to be true does not substitute an actual contract of fidelity to the man. So Kisame does the right thing and lets the woman choose her life for herself.

“If you say so.”

Her smile widens and she closes her eyes up at him. The skin so soft against his, even if its just their hands, make his purple tint deeper and his own grin feel like an undercover sin.

“I’d like to go back outside now.” And he nods. And then, something horrible happens, as they reenter daylight: a familiar face from the flower shop is running down the street to catch up with them.

“Takara-chan!!!” she nearly runs the other woman over, throwing her arms around the performer to catch herself before holding her by the shoulders, stepping back. Was she one of them who hired her? She's so attached to the songbird... “I thought I’d lost you! I forgot to say—!”

“Mm? Say what?”

The florist is beaming. “The hydrangea festival is this evening!!!” Why does Kisame’s stomach sink as her heart flutters to the sky?

“A festival?” She gets an eager nod in turn but no explanation. “I’ve never been to one just for flowers before.”

“You HAVE to come! Please? Please, please!” Beseeching, the villager looks up to Kisame. He notes the trust in her eyes, now that he’s brought back the woman safe and sound as she had asked. “It’ll be in the town courtyard. I made all of the arrangements! Please take Miss Takara-chan, I know she’d love it!”

And though Kisame knows it is the princess’s decision to make, the two women still look to him for approval. He is, after all, her chaperone; her bouncer; her Akatsuki.

He isn’t sure he likes the feeling of replacing the feet that were in Hidan and Kakuzu’s shoes.

The man exhales, much less amused than he’d normally be. “...Fine.”

This is already the longest day of his life. Might as well make it longer.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Woah there, Kimmy

But I’m programmed to destroy

And make mistakes, so hit the brakes

And find another to enjoy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Honestly, it’s a real damn shame that he didn’t tell Itachi there’d be dango and make him come along.

But the woman’s modesty— whatever that means to her— necessitates his protection, and it is her decision to tell the Uchiha about her line of work when she so chooses. However, she seems rather...open about it, and he notes others are pretty open to her, in turn.

“Hello!”

“Takara-chan!”

“Where have you been?”

“I missed you!”

For a performer, all the attention is making her blush.

“Wow...I...wow,” she murmurs to Kisame the moment there’s a clearing in the crowd, some space to be somewhat private. “I had no idea they liked me so much…” It surprises him, too. Perhaps it’s a different attitude this village has, to see her for her heart of gold before anything else. He still hasn’t looked her in the eye yet, today, and the way she refuses to let go of his hand— lest they lose each other in a place neither had explored all that much— is not helping the stress on his mind.

Having no answer from him in the seconds after her confession, the star turns her head side to side, taking in everything. “Wow…” she repeats, under her breath in awe. Speckles and bundles of blue, purple, pink, and white adorn the buildings at the town center like an art piece, cut and in pots and rooted in ground alike.

“Isn’t it wonderful?!”

The florist gleefully makes herself known once again, latching both of her arms around her friend’s in excitement. “It’s my first year doing it! I mean, I did it before, but that was before my dad passed away— Anyhow! It’s good, right?”

As if she has any expertise in floral arrangement, the gardener’s favorite rose nods in assurance. “I think it’s wonderful,” she confirms, choosing the same word the other lady did on purpose. The florist squeaks with glee.

“Oh, Takara-chan…—!” Abruptly, the kimono-clad woman lets go of the princess and stands straight up, attention locked across the paved circle at a man who looks especially curiously at one of the bushes. “Hold on—” A few hurried steps forward and she begins to rethink this command, ponytail whipping as she turns her head backwards at the two strangers. “I have to stay and host everything. You just go and have fun, okay?!”

And she’s off to the races, already educating the other villager’s ear off by the time Takara turns to her guardian with a bright smile. Kisame isn’t as sure as she is that they can do as told.

Gentle fingers guide his, happy to blindly lead and wander the sectioned off streets and shops now dedicated to natural beauty and perfume. It’s familiar, of course, the way people eyeball the giant blue man, but somehow it is much more uncomfortable now that he has a dainty, feminine comparison by his side. Does he look like a lost puppy or a vicious dragon in the minds of these strangers?

But he must remain, not only for the mission but as an unspoken duty to the lovely girl that feeds hungry eyes.

It’s fascinating, he ends up wondering at the back of her head, how someone that he thought he had clocked so well— she did melt so quickly that night in the cave, of course— could have so many unguessable multitudes. It reminds him of when he first met Itachi, a handsome man he greeted with hostility but eventually made more than peace with. It’s the lonely life of a ninja, yes, but they’ve at least been lonely together. Kisame knows his soft, matte gray eyes and the ravenous nature of his sweet tooth, and Itachi knows each flaw and strength of his partner like the back of his hand. The shark sighs. Beauty to him is merely something destined to be put on the shelf of his mind, isn’t it? To be admired and protected but never touched.

But the difference between Itachi and Takara is that Takara will touch you.

“Kisame…” His palm feels hers tighten, and he snaps himself awake to see a finger of hers point. “What’s that?” Bittersweet, his toothy grin widens. Ah, the irony.

“Ahhh…” he takes in the sight as they approach, tri-colored balls of mochiko delicately slid onto wooden skewers by a street vendor. “That’s dango.” He drinks in the sound of her hum, curious and unknowing of even the most common treat. “Don’t tell Itachi-san that I told you, but it’s his favorite.” He reaches into an inner pocket of his cloak. “We’ll grab some to go.”

A minute later, a stick is in her hand, and he examines her as she examines the candy, its weight and balance and its dusted, muted color against the blue sky.

Really? Someone like her...?

Kisame threatens his own brain to shut the hell up. It doesn’t matter. She’s still the same person. It’s none of his business. No matter how sweet her lips look, rounded and plump as she brings the candy nearer...no matter how cute and pink her tongue looks, peeking in between her teeth. Her innocence is a fact assured as the treat is, eventually, lowered. She re-wraps the dango and hands it back to him for safety alongside the spare.

“I’ll wait until we can share it together. I figure he’d like that.”

…

Kisame exhales, one side of his mouth wearily upturned.

“So he would.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Well I’ve got these demons

They’re screaming for something good to eat

Trussed up and dreaming of their freedom

Their chains are getting weak

But I’ve seen darkness

In my heart, miss

And it scares the shit out of me

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The terrible, beautiful nightmare come to life finally winds down, it seems for the poor, hotblooded man. Some sort of song is hummed sweet as nectar inside his friend's mouth, legs that are bare up to the knees kicking at her seat. Twilight has fallen, the sun down but the sky not yet dark. Finally, a long day can be put to rest. Kisame rolls his weary shoulders, one arm behind her on the bench while his chin looks to clouds the same color as the festival’s flowers.

“We best be getting home now, or else the whole trip is going to be done in the black of night.” The woman interrupts her murmurs to reply.

“Mm…” This tone is a sad one, and while tempted to argue that she’s gone back in the dead of night all the time, it isn’t her call. Kisame sighs.

“We can always come back.” He damn hopes they won’t, but that isn’t his call. Takara sighs.

“Yeah, okay…” The melancholy is as thick as can be for reasons he can’t assertain why. One by one, the street lamps are lit by a candle bearer, and the woman watches them until her eyes trail down to the one place down this road where the building’s entry shines in the coming midnight.

“...One last thing?” With his grunt of permission, the performer explains. “I wanna visit the bar before we go.”

The bar.

Kisame can feel his heartbeat in the sides of his neck going up to his ears and aching his head. Presumably, if he remembers correctly, this is where she used to go, escorted and guarded by the zombies. Presumably, if he infers correctly, where she preformed her work. She’s allowed to go back. Of course she is!

And putting himself aside, she deserves to not go alone. He accepts solemnly, with a dip of his head, and her eyes are as bright as the stars. The woman guides him by the hand the long walk down. He counts the lamps until the awning of the only business awake this hour is at their feet.

One.

Two.

Three.

She senses how tense he is. “I think you’d like them,” she tries to soften, and a lost breath in his throat somehow loses even more air.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Is he afraid? Why is he afraid? Is he unhappy? Why is he unhappy?

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

“...You don’t have to go in with me if you don’t want to.”

Ten.

Kisame drinks in the sight of her, his sinful gaze better hidden as it grows dimmer outside. Lantern-light slicks her locks and caresses the shape of her face. A couple of blue petals have fallen over the course of her day, off and away into the cracks on the road or blown onto rooftops. He can’t help himself. He pushes the stem of flowers back in place.

Briefly, he asks himself: if so many hands can touch her, why not his? But he’s not that kind of man. He wants to be wanted. It doesn't feel fair otherwise.

“Takara!”

The two dreamers under the stars turn around as a new addition opens the curtain, arms spread open. She recognizes him immediately.

“Sir!” though she’s ashamed she never learned his name, the middle aged man makes her beam. Kisame finds his mustache too bristly and eyebrows too thick; you can’t get a good read on a face you can hardly see. The barkeep’s star, though, reads the wiggles of fuzzy brown caterpillars with ease.

“Where have you been, my girl!” A clap on her back is met with wary eyes, one which the man seems to meet with a raise of his chin. “Ahh, a new entourage. I’m glad you took her back. Place hasn’t been the same without our little lady.” The hand slides down, holding her around the hip. Kisame wonders if his stare alone could set it on fire.

“Wait, really?” The older man meets her surprise with an exhale.

“My little wallflower doesn’t know how to give herself credit! I still get asked: ‘Taiga, when is your girl going to come back!’ I swear, my profits on drink since have sunk 15% if I did the math right.”

A flush tinges her face, and wide eyes end up locked on their shoes. “Wow…” So maybe it wasn’t just Kakuzu that kept her employed. Huh. ...Huh.

“Now, I don’t mean to take up your precious time. Is this business or pleasure? Guess for you, it’s the same thing!” Oh, Kisame does not like how he laughs at his own jokes, but she doesn’t seem to mind, and for her sake he can keep his pointed mouth shut.

“Just wanted to say goodbye before I left.” The old man coos:

“Ooh, well, goodbye to you, lass. But consider this: you only just arrived! You don’t want to come in? Maybe perform one last time?”

“Welllll…”

Kisame scrutinizes every inch of his ward for some sort of signal she needs help. But, eventually, the woman just just shrugs her shoulders.

“I suppose one more night wouldn’t hurt.” She looks up at the knight. Oh no. “Is that okay?”

He nods. He cannot do anything but nod. The old man leads the way, disappearing into the debauchery and expecting her to follow. Does the star expect the same of Kisame? She certainly offers it with that long gaze she gives. Before him again, as earlier when he held the flowers, an innocent folds her hands behind her back and stares up in wait. Kisame is so, very, still.

…

His frown twitches.

…

The corners barely stretch up.

“I’ll wait out here.” No, he cannot bear it. He will be here, waiting without judgment, but he cannot witness what she does. It's as if he doesn't have the right. The man isn’t sure what to make of the exhale she gives, what she must expect of him— hope from him. What a strange thing, he ponders, as the woman slips by and he turns his back to the curtain. He tries to ignore the cheers that emerge, hardly muted by the barrier, tries not to imagine the groping and dirty words she will accept. But then...things are hush. Far too hush.

And then he knows he’s become the fool.

If I found someone to stick like glue to

That...is singing. She is singing.

I'd probably peer out from the leaves

Hide a couple of roses up my sleeve

The performer sounds more lovely than any dove as she continues the tradition Kisame has already known her so eager to do.

Of course she is singing.

And I always find myself stuck

In this love goo

Feelings are hard to ignore

Especially when you don't know what they're for

Don't know just what makes flowers bloom

But I hope that they'll enjoy a tune

Oh, goddammit, you asshole...

The swordsman breaks his chaste vow and peers inside, shocked at what the truth is despite how it was the likely outcome all along. She’s in the corner of this little watering hole, a borrowed guitar on her lap that she strums like she’s never been away from it. So many eyes on her but she only has her own on strings and fingertips, hair falling off her shoulder as she tilts her head in dreamy melody. Kisame sees her lips part and sigh, revealing secrets of tiny things that find contentment in their simplicity.

So if the only love I'll feel is for bumblebees

That's fine with me

That's fine with me

And if I'll only ever dance with pine trees

That's fine with me

The siren lures Kisame in, despite his previous misgivings, despite his obvious, painful misunderstandings. The giant ignores the stares on him as he drifts closer and closer in the tide of the goddess, and though she is not here for sex as he mistook, she is still the most enrapturing woman to have ever walked into his life. Her eyes crack open, the moment they notice him clear as she jumps up in her seat with excitement first and then simply, purely joy. She smiles. She smiles for him. A whole audience in the room and he could swear it's like he’s the only one that matters.

He’s the only one shy eyes will make contact with.

That's fine with me

He kneels right in front of her, as any obedient knight should. Although new and novel at first, the other stares begin to fade, and as she did before, the performer blends into their background. Her doubts hide in the lyrics and sift away, lost forever behind the noise of conversation and clacking drinks.

It's lonely in the coral reef I float in

I wish I could swim out of the sea

But sharks are circling and nothing's easy

I-I still don't really know

Which way I'm going

But I guess the water's warm enough to bear

And I never have to wash or dry my hair

He is so, so desperate to drink the sight of her in, both culpable and so relieved. It didn’t matter, no, but shame on him for assuming something so drastic just because of the sin on his mind.

I miss watching the flowers bloom

But at least I can keep writing tunes

The applause is a gentle patter as the song ends and she excuses herself for the night. The woman stands up, and much to his surprise, asks for his hand among many for his help down and out. The hesitation Kisame keeps doesn’t last, but the guilt for being so presumptuous does.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So I’ll cement my defenses

And get up off my knees

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The night is no longer young by the time the escort is complete, the welcome mat that is this clearing in front of her home finally beneath their feet. The crickets chirp and the owl calls. All the sounds of nature, and still the breath from her lips is the only thing he can hear.

“Kisame?” It isn’t a question, not really. She just wants his focus and permission to speak. She gets it. She gets all of it from him. “I...wanted to thank you. For everything today. I know it wasn’t your favorite.”

Don’t apologize, she reminds herself, he doesn’t like it when you apologize.

“I...hope you enjoyed yourself,” the performer rephrases, taking the sunhat off her head to hold it to her chest. His answer is immediate, of course, certainly he did—

But as he speaks it, he stops. He’s surprised to find it true. He did enjoy himself, somewhere underneath being a prudish worrywart fussing too much about what a lady does or does not engage with...even if only for the way she looked at him at the end of the night.

It’s so saccharine that he can’t take it anymore.

“Takara…” Kisame begins, tugging at his collar and looking towards the ground in shame. “I apologize.” It almost makes her mad, how he’s begged her to stop saying that and yet he—

No, it feels important the way he’s saying that. She closes her mouth and listens.

“I’ve been an idiot.” And he’s continuing to be! He doesn’t NEED to tell her this! Why? Why!!! Why does it matter that he’s honest? It’s because he needs a world of truth. He can’t go on another way. Honesty is something he and her have in common, spilling into their lives in different ways.

“I’ve thought...I’ve had...no reason to. I want you to now this. It isn’t your own doing. But with the breadcrumbs I’ve gotten today about working at night, and getting tips, I had...forgotten myself.”

Please don’t make him say it.

…

She is going to make him say it.

“I believed you to be a...lady of the night.” The term murmured under is breath for the minute chance the woman mishears him for something better. And perhaps she does! Because the first reaction he gets isn’t sobbing or yelling or a slap to the face. It isn’t even remotely upset. At most, at worst, is a tiny tinge of annoyance.

“Oh, well. I’m not.” And then her own guilt comes in. “I...didn’t do anything that made you uncomfortable, did I?” Kisame sputters.

“No, no! I simply— I just—” He looks her over, starting at her shoes, working up her waist and landing on stern eyes. They don’t hate him. Why don’t they hate him?! “I...I expected you to be uncomfortable with me. Assuming such a thing about you.”

...Oh. Something clicks in place for her. This is explaining a lot, about how quiet he’s been, how introverted.

“No…! Kisame…” Two brows tense in concern, a small pout in her lips as she tries to repackage the situation into something less raw and tender. “There’s...no such thing as thought crime. You know that, right?”

“...Thought crime?”

“Yeah. It’s a term used where I’m from.” She tilts forward at his side so he sees more of her, of how unintimidated she is no matter how brutish or mean or dirty he believes himself to be. “Just because you think something...doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

“Eh?” That certainly isn’t the response he expected. “That’s nonsense—”

“It’s really not! It’s what you do that matters.” Unable to stand tall enough to touch his forehead, she touches her own square in the middle, serious as can be. “Whatever is in here...it stays in there. It only matters—” The hand is moved back so both of hers are raised to the shoulders, flexing fingers demonstratively. “—What these do.” She’s pleading with him, and it hits him in one more sentence how emotionally immature he’s been:

“And nothing you’ve done today in misunderstanding my job has actually hurt me!”

The bugs and the birds and the lowlifes of the dirt play their tunes in the stead of his silence. She just sang a song about how she adores them. Is now really the time to dismiss her? ...He concedes:

“...Sorry, princess,” he sighs. She’s much too kind for him, unable to even return the scolding the woman has received before from him. She just smiles. The star twinkles and shines and smiles, and he melts. All of a sudden, he understands astrology, the people who throw their fate to bright and distant things.

“It’s okay.”

But as soon as they walk across the way, over the grass, onto the porch, and turn different ways down the old hall, not even her wave goodbye can cleanse him. The goodness in her heart and the snow-white purity of her soul are too naive to see past what they want to see, and another truth seeps into him as his bedroom door clicks behind his back.

Samehada looms inches away from his shoulder, disappointed at being left behind, at having no feast in the days he’s held back from war. A blue palm presses onto the bandages and lets it drink, staves it off lest he gets a good enough reason to take it out for a run. Normally, he’d be eager for it, but it’s too risky to do it here, anywhere within sight of a pale dress that’d be ruined by getting blood on it. It needs to wait. The beast in him needs to wait. Itachi knows him, knows that the Akatsuki are destined to die by their own treachery. There is no gentle way to make Takara learn...so perhaps he will just avoid tainting her mind in the first place.

At least, as long as he can.

And so he slips into bed and imagines his exoneration for besmirching the princess’s faith in humanity. It hasn’t happened yet.

But it will.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bad little man, catch him and make him say:

Woah there, Kimmy

I’m not that kind of boy

Get out of my mind and forget me forever

Woah there, Kimmy

I’m programmed to destroy

My body of mine

But that’s fine

So take your black heart and go

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

…

…

…

…

Tweet. Tweet. Tweet.

The lovebirds sing outside the kitchen window as Kisame is left dumbstruck, observing where the empty vase was. Not only is it now full to the brim, hydrangeas of the village cascading the edges and glowing in the sunshine, but what resided in it before has returned. Delicately taped to an old scrap of paper, the knight picks the blue daisies up. They have been lovingly pressed and dried over the past two days, surely by two equally lovely hands. He squints at the horizontal writing in symbols he can’t understand, leaving the imagination to fill the gaps. Just like a horror story, a romance is better written if one is allowed some mystery, room to see what the enigma of the brain wants to see. This is regardless of if it alarms the mind's owner, makes them wonder what lurks in their heart to make them think such a thing. Kisame so desperately wants the easy answer of being a monster. A rejection. A tailless beast.

But he also wants to be loved.

It is not so easy that the last word in the conversation of flowers is that he is still oh so very human, especially as a bittersweet parable still rings in his ear:

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So if the only love I'll feel is for bumblebees

That's fine with me

That's fine with me

And if I'll only ever dance with pine trees

That's fine with me

That's fine with me-e-e-e-e-e

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[straightupsickfics]

“I’m here sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Stede soothed, heart aching; the fact of the matter was Ed needed him, in away no one had ever needed Stede before.

“I’m here sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Stede soothes, heart aching; the fact of the matter was Ed needs him, in a way no one had ever needed Stede before.

His children had needed him at times, of course, but Mary had always been there, the one they really wanted and needed when something went wrong, or something hurt, or one of them was ill in some way. Stede was the second option at best, and an afterthought at worst as they got older. As for Mary herself, well, she’d proven that she was just fine — happier, even — without him. 

But Ed, here, shaking with fever and chills on their small shared Captain’s bed, well. Stede wouldn’t dream of leaving Ed in anyone else’s hands.

“Don’t — don’t go,” Ed whimpers, exhaling a shaky breath when Stede rests a hand on his chest, immediately soothing him. 

Stede had been up on deck for the better part of the afternoon, filling in for Ed and making sure everything was taken care of before he let himself go back downstairs. He knew, of course, that as soon as he saw Ed, he’d want to spend the rest of the day making sure he was alright, and he’d been right. 

Seeing Ed like this, teary and glassy-eyed, nose streaming, fever-warm… well. Stede really has no choice but to curl up beside him in bed after carefully removing his overcoat and stockings and shoes until he’s in just his undershirt and pants. He can deal with putting everything away later.  

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Stede promises. “Lucius has everything handled from here, I think. He knows not to bother us unless there’s a true emergency. Roach is on standby in the kitchen, though,” he adds. “You might have to make do with less sugar with that cold of yours, but there’s plenty of hot tea to be had. That might be nice, hm? Warm you up.” 

Ed nods, scrubbing a hand over his face and trying to compose himself before speaking again.

“Fuck, m’sorry,” Ed says. His voice is thick, congested and rough from the tears and whatever bug he’d managed to catch, and Stede can’t help but press himself in close and warm, curling up around Ed beneath the bedclothes. 

“Don’t be,” Stede says. He cards a careful hand through Ed’s hair. It’s damp at the temples, and Stede tucks it back behind his ear, smiling when Ed leans into the touch. 

“Just missed you,” Ed tells him. “Feel fucking awful.” Ed presses his face against Stede’s shoulder, sniffling a few times against his shoulder as if to make his point. 

“You sound awful, darling,” Stede tells him. “How’s the knee doing?”

Ed shrugs against him, face still tucked away, but he mumbles after a beat. “Not great either.”

“I can go grab something for it, a hot water bottle?” Stede offers, though he knows the answer before Ed can voice it. 

“S’all right for now. Just glad you’re back,” he admits. Ed finally meets Stede’s eye and gives him a tentative smile, like he’s half afraid Stede will change his mind and take off. 

“Good,” Stede says. He draws him in for a kiss, brief but reassuring and soft enough that Ed’s relief is palpable. “See if you can take a nap, alright? I’ll be here when you get up again.”

He knows Ed has a hard time sleeping when he’s not feeling well, not to mention without Stede, so it’s hardly a surprise when Ed just mumbles a tired reply, his eyes drifting shut without much further encouragement, face borrowed against Stede’s chest.