#now hes listening to mama and i can hear it through the walls | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whitedarkmoonflower · 3 months

Text

Feeling you 3

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this is the last part and as I already wrote it got unexpectedly long, but I'm posting it as it is just as you voted. I really got so caugh up in this story 😅 I hope you'll enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT 18+

Word Count: 7,5 K

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

You woke up with a throbbing headache, having struggled to find sleep until the early hours. The walls of the old house seemed as thin as parchment. Every sound penetrated your room – the laughter, the chatter, the clinking of mugs, and the crackling of the fireplace, all blending into a cacophony that grated your weary senses.

But it was the faint noises from the floor above that truly disrupted your rest, igniting your imagination. You briefly wondered if Eanflaed had deliberately placed your bed right beneath the room where Sihtric and Ealfwin spent the night. The thought was quickly dismissed, but couldn't you hear his voice through the thin ceiling? The blurred sounds of the muffled moans and passionate groans seemed to reach you even as you tried to block them out, covering your ears with your hands and burying your head under the pillow. It was almost dawn when your exhausted mind finally succumbed to a restless sleep, only to be woken soon after by the bustling sounds of morning chores.

"You've certainly looked better," Eanflaed remarked as she noticed you stepping into the main room, wincing when the bright daylight hit your red and swollen eyes.

"By the saints, I'd almost forgotten how thin these walls are," you grumbled, sinking into a seat and propping your aching head up with your hands. "I've ruined everything, have I not?" You added after a pause.

"Hold on, don't lose hope so quickly. Regarding Sigefried - you haven't acted in a manner unbecoming of a modest maiden. It was he who overstepped. If you wish, I can speak with him. But the real question is, do you truly want that?" Eanflaed said, a chuckle in her voice as she placed a plate of bread and cheese before you.

Her offer didn't surprise you. This was typical of Eanflaed, always resilient. Despite the hardships life had thrown at her, including losing her husband and being left to raise three young children while running an alehouse, she never faltered. Her approach was always pragmatic and thoughtful. She had a unique ability to balance her steadfast resilience with a protective nature towards her friends and the girls at the alehouse. They were like family to her, each deserving of her unwavering support.

But as much as you wished Eanflaed could solve this problem for you, you realised it was something you needed to address yourself.

"You are right, but I need to handle this myself. I have to speak with him," you said, nibbling on a piece of bread, lost in thought.

"Are you certain this is what you want?" Eanflaed's question caught you off guard, and you looked up to meet her probing eyes.

"Of course, I want it," you asserted, a hint of frustration in your tone. "I turned away a good man for... for a fleeting dream, for... nothing."

"Listen," Eanflaed said, sitting beside you and taking your hands in hers. "Who are you trying to convince? I've known you long enough. This isn't you. I know you're hurting now, but think carefully. If you accept Sigefried's proposal, it's a lifelong commitment. Don't make this choice out of hurt. You won't be able to bear it; your heart isn't made for such compromise, and I say that as a compliment.”

You gazed at Eanflaed in astonishment, trying to comprehend her words. The usually rational and sensible Eanflaed, who had often chided you for impulsively following your heart, was now advising you to reconsider what seemed like the most reasonable decision you had ever made.

It had been foolish to reject Sigefried. You had allowed yourself to be swept away by fleeting emotions and silly dreams, ignoring the stability and future that Sigefried offered. The thought of what you had almost thrown away for someone who didn’t even acknowledge your existence left a bitter taste in your mouth. It was time to face reality, and though the prospect of apologising to Sigefried was daunting, it was an unavoidable step unless you wanted to spend your life scrubbing mugs in the alehouse. If your fate was to be a whore in the disguise of a wife, you were ready to embrace it. At least you’ll be a modest and well-fed one.

With a gentle but firm motion, you freed your hands from Eanflaed’s hold and stood up from the table. “There's nothing left to think about. I had the whole night for that. I’ve made my decision.”

—--------------------------------------------------

"Look what I've got," Ealfwin announced, descending the stairs with a satisfied smile on her lips and dropping two golden rings onto the counter. Her smile widened as she watched them roll and clink across the wooden surface. Eanflaed's eyes widened in surprise.

"It was the strangest night of my life," Ealfwin laughed.

"What happened? It was that young Dane who took you upstairs, wasn't it? What did he want?" Eanflaed asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Oh, don't worry, it wasn't anything bad. He was so passionate, kissing me like a desperate starving man, right here at the table. But when we got upstairs and I started to undress, he suddenly told me he wasn't in the mood," Ealfwin explained, shrugging. "I was about to leave, but then he took off two of his rings and asked me to have a drink with him and stay the night. He said he didn't want to be alone."

"And then what happened?" Eanflaed probed, her curiosity evident.

"We just drank and talked. About life, the alehouse, all sorts of things. Then he asked for another pitcher of ale and told me to go to bed. I couldn't turn down such a generous offer. Just look at these rings – they're solid gold, and look at how thick they are."

"Yes, the rings are impressive. But what was he doing all this time?" Eanflaed inquired further.

"He just sat there, drinking. And this might sound odd," Ealfwin paused, licking her lips nervously before continuing, "but if I didn't know he was a Dane and one of Uhtred's fiercest warriors, I'd think he was crying."

"Crying?" Eanflaed's tone was filled with disbelief.

"Yes, crying. It was late already when I woke up to some odd noises, and there he was, still at the table, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as if he were sobbing," Ealfwin's voice dropped to a hushed tone, and she glanced around cautiously, as though worried about being overheard. "It must have been something else, perhaps I was still half-asleep. He's a Dane, after all, and just yesterday I heard Uhtred praising his prowess in battle. Such men don't cry, do they?"

"No, they usually don't," Eanflaed agreed, though her response came with a hint of hesitation as she slowly shook her head, seemingly lost in thought.

"Yeah, and by the time I woke up this morning, he was already gone," Ealfwin concluded, her gaze still fixed on the two gleaming gold rings resting on the counter. "I really need a new dress; this one's seen better days."

Eanflaed picked up the rings and slipped them into a small pouch at her waist. "I'll get these exchanged for money. Last night was really a good one. We should now have enough to restock for the winter, and I'm sure we can manage a few new dresses as well."

—-----------------------------------------------

"It's a bit early, isn't it?" Eanflaed chuckled, glancing towards the door as it creaked open. It was still morning, edging towards noon, and she had only just finished cleaning the main room.

"I'm here to talk to Y/N, to offer congratulations on the engagement," slurred the young man leaning heavily against the door frame. Clearly drunk, he staggered towards Eanflaed and grabbed hold of the counter for support.

"What in the world?" Eanflaed blurted out, her stern gaze and furrowed brows fixed on the intruder. Her sharp retort was cut short as she recognized the young Dane from Uhtred’s company.

"Oh, I forgot to bring flowers. Isn't it customary to bring flowers for such occasions?" he mumbled, hiccupping, his clouded mismatched eyes boldly meeting Eanflaed's.

"What are you doing here?" Eanflaed demanded, eyeing him critically from head to toe.

Sihtric felt a sobering jolt from Eanflaed’s tone. Despite his drunken state, a wave of embarrassment washed over him. What was he doing here, indeed? He wasn't even sure how he had managed to find his way here in his current condition.

Compelled by the fear of encountering you again, he had stealthily slipped away under the cover of night, heading to the inn where Uhtred had secured rooms for them. There, he had joined the few remaining guests in their drinking. The ale had bolstered his courage, fueling his burning need for answers, and his legs had unwittingly led him here.

That brief moment the previous evening, when your eyes had met his, had unsettled him deeply. The surprise and pain etched on your face as you looked at him had caused him to nearly stumble and drop the girl he was holding. Why had you looked at him that way? Weren't you supposed to be happy and content, ready to start your new life without any place for his unrequited affection?

"I'm not sure," he mumbled, his momentary boldness fading into abashment.

"After what you did yesterday, you have the nerve to come here asking for her? You... you drunken fool," Eanflaed said, her voice rising in anger as she dropped the rag she was using to clean the counter. She advanced towards Sihtric, her smaller stature no match for her palpable fury. Sihtric instinctively began to retreat until he backed into a bench and clumsily sat down, trying to avoid tumbling over it, his warrior’s poise nowhere to be seen under Eanflaed’s fiery gaze.

"I don't know what tales you spun before leaving, but she waited for you all these long months. And just yesterday, she rejected a marriage proposal because of you. Do you grasp that, you fucking fool? She rejected Sigefried and ran off just to see you parade off with Ealfwin, ignoring her as if she were a complete stranger. And now you want to talk to her?" Eanflaed hurled her words at Sihtric with the force of thrown stones, growing louder as she jabbed her finger into Sihtric's chest.

"She did what?" Sihtric's eyes widened in shock, his mouth agape as he stared at the angry small woman before him. Her words had sobered him like a bucket of cold water on his head and in that moment Sihtric wished for nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "By the gods, what a fool I am," he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Leave now, or I'll call the town guards, and you can sober up in the sheriff's cell," Eanflaed threatened.

"Wait, please, let me explain," Sihtric pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I don’t want your excuses. Just leave! I won’t let you disrupt her life again. She might be reconciling with Sigefried as we speak..."

"I saw them! Yesterday, before coming here. I witnessed the proposal," Sihtric interjected, his voice rising in frustration. "I love her, I came back for her but I thought I stood no chance against him. I wanted to spare her the burden of remembering me. I never imagined she might still care."

"Oh, boy," Eanflaed sighed, her anger subsiding as she slumped onto the bench beside Sihtric. "That explains Ealfwin's odd night with you."

"What should I do?" There was such a despair in Sihtric’s voice that Eanflaed unwillingly felt sympathy with the boy. “Where is she? Please, I need to see her,” he pleaded.

"She's gone to speak with Sigefried," Eanflaed replied reluctantly, watching Sihtric's shoulders slump in defeat. After a moment, she added, "I’ll tell her you were here asking for her. But that’s all I’ll do. It’s up to her whether she wants to see you or not."

"Please, tell her I'll be at the White Goose inn, upstairs, last room on the left. I'll wait for her," Sihtric said, a hint of hope flickering in his voice.

—--------------------------------------------------

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," Sihtric said, taking a hesitant step back to let you into the room. A timid smile touched his lips. As you stepped inside, removing the hood of your cloak, your eyes took in the modest yet orderly room. Sihtric shut the door and faced you, his fingers nervously running through his hair while his gaze fell to his feet. "I... I..." he faltered.

"I honestly don't know why I'm here," you admitted, surprised at the calmness of your voice despite your heart pounding wildly in your chest. What were you doing here? You hadn't intended to come. When Eanflaed had conveyed to you Sihtric’s message, you knew instantly it wasn't a good idea, you knew it was only going to hurt and you had decided against it.

It's no use crying over spilled milk, you had told yourself as you headed towards the small street leading to your home. You rented a tiny attic room in an old, crooked house, owned by a landlady as aged and bent as the building itself. Evening was drawing near, and after last sleepless night, you longed for some rest before tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The word struck you like a bolt, a piercing realisation. Tomorrow was your wedding day. The cool autumn air filled your lungs, each season with its unique aroma, but autumn's – with its scents of rain, fallen leaves, and chimney smoke – was your favourite.

Faint, hazy memories of a warm fireplace in a spacious room and the comforting chatter of gathered people lingered at the edge of your consciousness, as you slowly wandered along the empty and quiet streets of the drowsy town. Your yearning for sleep had slowly vanished. Tonight, nobody awaited you at home, a fact that would change tomorrow. Everything would be different then. But for now, the night was yours – the last night of freedom, the last night you could choose to do whatever you wished. Slowly lifting your eyes, you found yourself staring in surprise at the sign of the White Goose inn, gently swaying in the breeze above.

You were unsure how you found yourself there, but there you were, almost dreamlike, extending your hand to push open the large wooden doors leading to the noisy, crowded main room. Pulling your cape further over your head, you moved unnoticed through the busy, half-drunk crowd, heading straight for the stairs.

“Last room on the left,” you murmured to yourself, repeating Eanflaed’s words. Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, resonating through you like a bizarre war drum. “What am I doing here?” you questioned yourself yet again, halting before the door. Nonetheless, your hand seemed to move on its own, lifted as if by an unseen force, and three loud knocks rang out.

You gasped in surprise as the door swung open almost instantly, cutting off the sound of your last knock. You were met by the deep, slightly startled gaze of two mismatched eyes.

Sihtric’s voice was as soft and melodic as you remembered. “At least that hasn’t changed,” you thought fleetingly, as you stepped inside, only for the sound of the door closing behind you, sharp like the snap of a trap, to jolt you back to the reality, the sheer absurdity of the situation you had just brought yourself into washing over you like a rainstorm.

“It was a mistake. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” you stammered, trying to edge past Sihtric in a quick movement back toward the door.

He hadn’t expected this. After spending hours and hours pacing his small room, he had finally lost all hope of you showing up. Muffled curses and groans kept rolling over his lips as the shadows lengthened with the setting sun, his arms alternating between clasping his head and hanging listlessly at his sides, his fists clenching and unclenching, fingers raking through his hair or covering his face in frustration. The knock had taken him by surprise, standing by the door, rhythmically bumping his head against the wall, his elbows propped against it, fingers interlocked behind his head.

He had yanked the door open, fueled by frustration, only to be completely caught off guard by the sight of you standing there, your hand still raised from the last knock. Fighting the impulse to pinch himself, to verify that he wasn't dreaming, Sihtric watched you hesitantly stepping into the room. His gaze fell to the floor, while his mind scrambled for something coherent to say. Throughout the long hours of waiting, he had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, imagining all the things he wanted to say, just to find his mind empty as a blank sheet of parchment.

His gaze still fixed on his feet, Sihtric almost didn't notice your sudden dash for the door. You were close to escaping, your hand nearly grasping the handle, when he realised your intent to flee and instinctively reached out, catching your arm and turning you around. You attempted to pull away, struggling to free yourself from his grip, but in the rush, Sihtric made another step toward you, and suddenly, you found yourself pressed against the door, his towering figure looming over you.

“Please, don’t go,” Sihtric’s voice was deep and hoarse, a noticeable tremor running through it. His eyes finally met yours as he placed his hands on your shoulders, immediately feeling you tense up, panic and fear evident in your wide-open eyes. It was a look he recognized all too well, one he had seen too often, but never expected to be directed at him. Yet, there you were, staring back with a deepening darkness in your eyes and quickening breath.

"I’m sorry," he quickly stepped back, letting go of you and raising his hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry. I…I’m getting this all wrong, aren't I? Please, just don't go yet. Give me a moment," the pleading tone in his voice washed over you, but amidst your rising anxiety, you barely absorbed his words.

Averting your gaze and driven by instinctive fear, you reached behind your back, your hand frantically searching for the life-saving door handle. Your fingers finally found it, gripping it tightly, poised to push it down and open your path to escape as you looked back up at Sihtric and froze, surprised by the lost, sorrowful expression on his face, his large, expressive eyes shining with warm tenderness. There he was, the same insecure, alarmed boy, who had so trustfully followed you, squeezing your hand in his sweaty palm, his anxiety barely concealed.

"I won't hold you back. If you want to leave, you can," he stated, stepping further back, giving you ample space, as if to emphasise the truth in his words. His gaze remained intently on you, earnest and unwavering. "You are safe with me. I'll never hurt you, you know that? Never."

Your expression softened, and the fear in you slowly ebbed away. You let your arms fall to your sides, though your chest continued to rise and fall quickly as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. Time seemed to stretch out, the two of you locked in a silent gaze, the air around you thick with unspoken words and anticipation.

"What do you want from me?" you found the courage to break the silence.

"I missed you," came Sihtric’s immediate response. "Every single day since I left, you’ve been on my mind. I couldn't escape the thought of you."

"Then why…" you began, but Sihtric quickly cut you off.

"I saw you with Sigefried," he blurted out, his voice unsteady. "I heard his proposal, and then I saw him kiss you…" His voice faltered and broke, pausing for a moment to gather himself. "I... I had brought you flowers, and there he was, offering you a home, a future. I... I didn’t know what to do... I…" He stumbled over his words, his voice trailing off, as he struggled to continue.

"You brought me flowers?" you asked, a quiver in your voice, recalling your surprise this morning when you had seen the delicate blooms crushed in the dirt outside the alehouse. A sudden moisture gathered in the corners of your eyes, and it took all your willpower to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"Is what Eanflaed said true?" Sihtric's gaze dropped to the floor, and even in the dimming light of the setting sun, you could see his cheeks redden. "She said you waited for me, that you turned him down because of me. Is that true?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Words seemed to lodge in your throat, making it difficult to speak. "Yes, I did," you finally managed, your voice emerging faintly. "But it doesn’t matter now. I accepted Sigefried’s proposal this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow after the morning sermon."

"What? Why?" Sihtric exclaimed, lifting his head, a look of pain crossing his face.

You gazed at him, a sad smile tugging at your lips, still leaning against the door. You wondered if he really expected an answer. He looked striking in the fading sunlight, the sharp contours of his face thrown into relief by the encroaching shadows, his beautiful, captivating eyes locking with yours, making it impossible to look away. A silent curse escaped your lips, your hands slowly balling into fists as you fought to regulate your increasingly shallow breathing. Your cheeks warmed under Sihtric’s intense gaze, a familiar heat spreading from your stomach through your veins, tingling every cell in your body, clouding your thoughts.

There was a part of you that knew there was nothing more to be said, it was time to leave, a distant voice in your consciousness urged you to go. Instead you straightened up, stepping away from the door, and hesitantly moved towards Sihtric. With each step, the distance between you lessened until you were standing right in front of him. Your hand trembled as you reached up, gently cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing his lower lip.

"Thank you for the flowers," you whispered softly.

"But, I didn’t..." Sihtric began in a hushed tone.

"You are the first one," you gently cut him off, a tender yet sad smile on your lips, "The only one who ever thought to bring me flowers."

Closing his eyes, Sihtric leaned into your touch, his hand coming up to cover yours, pressing it more firmly against his cheek, a deep sigh escaping him. In that moment, he seemed to straddle the line between boyhood and manhood, like a young soul yearning for love and affection, yet hesitant to fully express it for fear of exposing his innate kindness as a vulnerability.

"I… I shouldn’t be here..." you stammered, your resolve wavering.

"Stay… please, stay with me," Sihtric's plea was soft, his other hand gently cupping your cheek, drawing you closer. He leaned in slowly, deliberately, giving you the chance to pull away if you wished.

You wanted to turn away, to step back and withdraw. It wasn't Sihtric's hold that restrained you – his touch was so featherlight and delicate that you could have easily slipped away at any moment. It was your own body that betrayed you, refusing to comply. With your eyes closed, you felt Sihtric’s lips tentatively meet yours, grazing them in an almost imperceptible touch, his breath warm and trembling against your skin.

“I can’t,” you murmured softly against his lips, but the involuntary whimper that followed told a different story. Despite your words, your hands seemed to act of their own accord, as they found their way to Sihtric’s neck, then upwards, weaving into his hair. The fervour with which you responded to his kiss, parting your lips in an eager, almost desperate need to taste him, betrayed the falsehood in your words.

Emboldened by your response, Sihtric deepened the kiss. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. And this time he knew exactly what he was doing, his movements were assured, his lips moving over yours with purpose. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, teasing and exploring, savouring the moment.

Your senses reeled. The sensation of Sihtric’s lips pressed against yours, his tongue entwining with yours, the mingling of your breaths, ignited a fire within you that you could no longer contain or deny. You kissed him back passionately, desperately, matching the intensity of his own need.

Sihtric let out a soft moan as you gently bit his lower lip, stirring sweet memories of your first time together. His hands cradled your face, drawing you closer to his eager yet tender lips. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and quick, and you felt utterly swamped by the intoxicating depth of his kiss, wishing this moment would last forever, that his lips would never part from yours, his hands never release you.

Your fingers began to fumble with the laces of his armour, impatient and desirous they tugged at the fastenings and Sihtric helped you to free him from the layers of the thick leather that kept your heated bodies apart.

"May I?" he asked, his hands hovering over the laces of your dress. You smiled, recalling how you had once asked him the same question.

"Yes, please," you responded, your voice quivering with anticipation. You held your breath as Sihtric's rough fingers began to undo your simple dress, first brushing it off your shoulders, then tracing kisses down your neck to your collarbone. With a firm tug, the dress fell to your feet, eliciting a sharp exhale from Sihtric that made you blush.

Sihtric's palms cupped your face again, and he pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you want me?" he whispered, his voice husky and slightly hoarse, his breath unsteady.

"Yyyes, I do," you whispered back. That was the undeniable truth, the sole clear thought in your mind. You wanted him, needed him, like a budding flower needs the rain. Yes, tomorrow everything would change, everything would be different. Tomorrow you would be married, embarking on a new life, but tonight, you were here and you were his and only his.

The soft moan that escaped Sihtric as he claimed your lips again in a gentle yet urgent kiss sent a flutter through you. Sihtric continued to cover your face with soft kisses, starting from your forehead, then moving to your cheeks, and finally trailing down to your jawline. His large hands settled on your hips, pressing you firmly against his pelvis as his hips gently rocked against yours, letting you feel his fully hard cock. “Do you want all of me?” he asked again.

Throughout your life, you had encountered many men, but none had ever made you feel as desired, cherished, and loved as Sihtric did at this moment. And never had you yearned for someone as intensely as you yearned for him now. It wasn't just lust or affection for this young man clouding your thoughts; it was something deeper, a profound and new sensation unfurling within you, so intense it was almost frightening.

“Please, say it. I need to hear it,” he urged, his voice strained between heavy breaths.

“I do, I want you, all of you, every part of you,” you moaned hungrily, your by now completely soaked pussy throbbing for him as your fingers went down to the laces of his breeches, unfastening them quickly, slipping inside and wrapping around his hard length, giving it a needy stroke.

Sihtric groaned, his hands quickly gathering your undergarments, pushing them up your hips and smoothly lifting them over your head in one fluid motion. His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders again, pulling you close to his bare chest. The warmth of his body enveloped you, seeping into your skin as his mouth traced a path from your jaw down to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses and gently nipping at your skin. A loud whine escaped you, your skin tingling under the heat of his touch.

Sihtric placed his hands under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You pressed against his broad chest, your arms encircling his neck, marvelling at his strength. He carried you easily, without any sign of strain, and gently laid you down on his bed.

You quickly scrambled up to your knees and reached for his waist, pulling down his breeches and freeing his fully hard cock. You licked your lips as you wrapped your hand around it, giving it a slow stroke and moving your head closer to his dripping tip. Sihtric’s head snapped back as he groaned loudly at your touch, but his hand firmly took hold of your chin, stopping you.

“This time it’s my turn,” he said firmly, his eyes looking down at you dark with lust. “Let me make you feel good,” he murmured, gently pushing you back on the bed, moving his body over you and settling between your legs as he started placing soft kisses down your neck.

He paused at your breasts, suckling slightly at your hard nipples, before going further down, each sloppy open mouthed kiss making you writhe beneath him. Muffled whines rolled over your lips as he continued kissing his way down to your belly, until he reached your pulsing core and the first lap of his tongue over your folds made you arch your back and dig your nails into the mattress, a heavy moan escaping you.

“Oh God, it feels so good,” you whined, and Sihtric let out a satisfied groan, his hot breath tickling you and making the pleasure even more intense. His hands were on your hips, keeping you firmly in place, as he sucked hard at your clit and circled it with his tongue. You felt your climax building up quickly, each lap of his tongue bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You whined and whimpered, rocking your hips against him, mewling his name and begging him not to stop and the moment he pushed his tongue inside you, you felt a hot wave of pure bliss washing over you. Everything around you faded away, consumed by the inferno of ecstasy running through your veins and burning everything in its path, erasing all your doubts and possible regrets.

Sihtric let you savour your high, his tongue gently lapping over your clit, waiting until your body stopped shaking. "Was I good?" he asked, as he moved back on top of you, a slightly sheepish look on his face paired with a mischievous, boyish glint in his eyes, clearly seeking praise and affirmation.

"Holy shit, you were sinfully good," you exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as you were taken aback by the profanity of your own words. You pulled him into your embrace, your legs wrapping around his waist. In that moment, nothing else mattered. All that was important was the soft press of Sihtric’s lips against yours, the comforting weight of his body pinning you to the mattress, and the delightful sensation of his breath tickling your skin.

“I want you, I want to be inside you, to feel you around me,” Sihtric murmured in your ear, breathing heavily, his hard, leaking cock pressing against your core. “Will you have me?”

“Yes, please! I want you. Oh my God, I need you… I need to feel you again,” you moaned, shamelessly rolling your hips up against him. That was all he needed to hear, and in the next instant he was pushing inside you. His hands firmly grasped your wrists, securing your arms above your head, while he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savouring every scent like a dying man cherishing his final breath.

He pushed into you completely until the very end of his shaft, freezing for a moment. “Gods, how good you feel!” Sihtric groaned against your skin, his lips sliding over your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips impatiently, grinding against him, showing him how much you wanted him, how much you needed him and he instantly got you, starting to move, slowly in the beginning, but fastening his pace with each thrust until he was fucking you relentlessly into the mattress, wild growls rolling over his lips.

You met his thrusts with equal eagerness and passion, moving your hips against him, matching his pace. You felt impossibly light, as if soaring, your body seemingly weightless, free from all worries and sorrows. In that moment, there was no past, no future, just the present, blissfully unaware of your surroundings, even the image of the impending wedding had left you as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure surging within you, consuming all your senses.

Your eyes met Sihtric's, and you revelled in the way he gazed at you with such tender fondness, mixed with an unspoken, elusive depth, the softness in his eyes, a trait you never expected to find in a warrior, making your breath hitching in your throat.

You moaned his name, feeling your orgasm approaching, and dug your nails in his back. “Let go, my love,” Sihtric groaned, pounding into you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Let yourself fly. I want you to cum for me. I want to see you falling apart,” he murmured, reaching between your bodies and pushing his fingers at your clit, rubbing it gently.

You gasped loudly at the sudden feeling of exhilaration washing over you and then you were falling or maybe flying, you couldn’t tell, as your back arched against the mattress in the most intense orgasm you had ever had. Your walls clenched around Sihtric’s cock and, watching your face lighten up in pure happiness, he followed you spilling deep inside you with a loud groan.

“You are so beautiful,” Sihtric moaned, crashing against you, and you wrapped your arms around him with a blissful smile gracing your lips.

“Don’t move,” you purred in his ear. “I want to feel you a little bit longer.”

"As long as you want. I don’t want to let go of you, anyway," Sihtric replied with a deep sigh. "I want you to stay here with me. Will you?" The pleading tone of his voice was tinged with uncertainty.

"I will. I'll stay for the night," you whispered, cradling Sihtric’s face in your hands, gazing deeply into his captivating eyes, and sealing your promise with a tender, soft kiss. You held back a sigh that threatened to break free, grateful that the fallen darkness helped you to conceal the tears that shimmered in your eyes from Sihtric’s view.

Sihtric had so much he wanted to tell you. His wish wasn't merely for you to stay the night; he wanted you to stay with him forever. He longed to awaken each morning to your face, to the feeling of your warmth beside him. He told himself there would be time for those words tomorrow, and every day that followed. For now, you were here, with him, and his happiness was too profound for words, his contentment too deep to break the peaceful silence. Gently, he wrapped the blanket around you, just like that first time, and drew you into his embrace. Your back pressed snugly against his chest, your hair spread over the pillow, he inhaled your exhilarating scent and let the comforting fatigue seep into his bones, lulling him into a restful sleep.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric awoke to a strange sense of emptiness and a chill in the air. Instinctively, he reached out, expecting to find the warmth of your body, but his hand met only the cold, thin air. His eyes fluttered open to a room bathed in the golden hues of sun long risen above the horizon. Your scent lingered, yet you were nowhere to be seen.

Leaping out of bed, Sihtric looked around in confusion.

"Damn it, no... it can’t be. Damn it!" he muttered as he paced the room. "Why? Why is she doing this to me?" he groaned, his hands balling into fists. A wave of despair and a sense of profound failure overwhelmed him. What had he done wrong? Did last night mean nothing to you?

Glancing quickly out the window, Sihtric saw the small town coming to life in the new day's light, and his ears picked up the distant sound of church bells ringing. A painful realisation struck him, and he raked his hands through his hair, cursing softly.

"Fuck, no…" Sihtric exclaimed, scrambling to gather his clothes strewn about the room. Dressing himself hastily, he then stormed out of the room and pounded on the door down the corridor with both fists.

"What's going on? Sihtric, have you lost your mind?" Uhtred's sleepy face appeared in the doorway.

"Lord, I need your permission. I need your permission to marry," Sihtric nearly shouted, and Uhtred's annoyed expression shifted to one of complete amusement.

"You want to marry? Now? Are you drunk?"

"Yes, lord. No, lord. Now, or it will be too late," Sihtric implored, desperation in his voice. "I've been too late twice already. I can’t miss another chance."

"Wait, slow down! Explain what's happening," Uhtred said, fully opening the door and gesturing for Sihtric to come in.

"Lord…" Sihtric began to protest, but a stern look from Uhtred halted him. With a heavy sigh, Sihtric stepped inside.

—------------------------------------------------

"Should anyone here know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace," the priest intoned, and you held your breath in anxious anticipation.

Stealing a glance beneath your lashes, you looked hesitantly at Sigefried beside you. His gaze was locked on the priest, not on you, his fingers tapping against his palm with an air of impatience, as if eager for the ceremony to conclude.

A wave of nausea began to stir in your stomach. Was this the right decision? Was there even such a thing as a right decision? Your feelings for Sihtric were undeniable – profound and inexplicable, intense beyond words. Yet here you were, at the altar.

The hardest part had been slipping away from Sihtric's warm embrace. You had shifted carefully to free yourself from his hold, withdrawing your breath as it seemed you had awakened him. He had moved closer momentarily, his arm tightening around you. You waited, but his steady and rhythmic breathing soon told you he was still asleep.

Finally out of bed, the cool air bit against your naked skin. You quickly picked up your clothes, and dressed. You were already at the door, your hand reaching out for the handle, as you stopped and turned, casting one last look at Sihtric. He appeared so peaceful, content, and serene in the ethereal light of the dawn's first rays, looking so young and innocent, like a prince from a fairy tale. But as much as you wished for it, this fairy tale couldn’t have a happy ending.

You couldn’t stay. Despite the ache in your heart, it was impossible. He was from a different world, he was a stranger, a passer by in your life. The events of the past days had made that painfully evident.

Today he was here with you, but tomorrow he would leave again, bound to follow his lord wherever fate led. What would remain for you? Only waiting. An endless, uncertain wait, shrouded in doubt and suspense, without even knowing its purpose. His absence turning into eternity you would never know whether it was because his gods had called him from this world or because he had chosen to marry and settle down with someone else. And nobody would ever tell you, for you were not a part of his world.

You struggled to contain the tears welling up, but realising there was no one around to witness them, you allowed them to flow freely as you gently closed the door behind you. As much as it tore at your heart, you were grateful to fate for having your paths crossed with this sweet, passionate, and kindhearted young warrior. He had awakened emotions within you that you were certain would stay with you for the rest of your life, giving you warmth and strength to face what you must do.

"Please face each other and join hands," the priest's voice pulled you back from your thoughts, and you turned towards your soon-to-be husband, extending your trembling hands. A shy smile touched your lips, but it failed to reach your eyes, where tears shimmered.

The priest drew breath, and opened his mouth to speak as a loud voice suddenly cut through the air "I object!" echoed through the vast hall and a figure blocked the light streaming through the open doors of the church. You flinched, as if stung, immediately recognizing the voice. Panic welled up inside you as you turned, already knowing who you would see, the voice having been unmistakably familiar.

Why was he doing this? Was it an act of revenge for wounded pride? Was he about to reveal that you had spent the night with him, just to shame you? Could he really be that heartless? Questions fluttered through your mind like alarmed birds as you saw three men, three warriors, stride down the church aisle, stopping just before you.

The priest shifted nervously, his robe rustling in the sudden, uneasy silence. No one spoke. You didn’t dare to lift your gaze, acutely feeling the stares of Sigefried and the few witnesses he had brought, as if they were piercing through you.

"I object," Sihtric repeated, this time more quietly, a strange tremor in his voice.

"What matter do you wish to raise, young man?" the priest inquired, casting nervous glances at the three men, his eyes widening with apprehension upon noticing Thor's hammer around the necks of two of them.

"You can't marry him," Sihtric said, now addressing you directly. His voice was soft, almost imploring, devoid of any malice or anger. Sigefried cleared his throat, seemingly about to interject. He moved a step towards Sihtric, but the firm stares from Uhtred and Finan caused him to reconsider, and he stepped back silently.

"Why?" your question emerged as a faint whisper under your breath as you still didn’t dare to raise your eyes.

"Because I love you," Sihtric's answer struck you like a bolt from the blue.

"You love me?" you echoed, the concept feeling foreign and almost unreal. Love was a notion that had seemed absent from your life. Even recognising the feelings you had for Sihtric you had never dared to call them love. Could it truly have a place now? You lifted your eyes, meeting Sihtric’s earnest gaze.

"I love you and I know that you love me too, even if you try to hide it. Can you deny it?," Sihtric’s voice resonated with unwavering certainty, free of any doubt or hesitation, as he knelt before you, extending his arm towards you. "I may not have much to offer, but I offer you my hand, my heart, and the promise that I will love you until my last breath. Will you marry me?"

You struggled to speak, but a lump in your throat rendered you silent. The church was steeped in a suffocating silence, and you stared down at Sihtric in disbelief. His gaze was steady, his hand outstretched and waiting.

Inside, Sihtric’s heart pounded at an alarming rate. He summoned all his willpower to appear calm and composed, concealing the storm of emotions within, striving to keep his outstretched hand from trembling. As the silence stretched, doubts began to cloud his mind. Had he been mistaken all along? Had he seen only what he longed to see, even if it wasn't true? Was he merely deceived by his own foolish heart, seeking love and acceptance in a place where none existed? His eyes darkened with shades of doubt and disillusion.

“Yes, I will,” your words emerged as a faint whisper, a light breeze carrying the soft clang of your shaking voice, yet he heard them. Those three words seemed to breathe life back into Sihtric, his eyes brightening with hope and happiness.

“Yes, yes! Oh my God, Sihtric, I love you! I will! I will marry you!” You found your voice again, repeating the words, thrilled by their sound. You placed your trembling hand in Sihtric’s, seeking stability as the world seemed to spin around you. In seconds, Sihtric was on his feet, closing the gap between you, wrapping you in his embrace, showering your face with kisses.

“I knew it, I knew you loved me. I saw it in your beautiful eyes. I could feel it, ” he murmured into your ear.

“Hey, priest, snap out of it. We’ve got a wedding to conduct,” Uhtred’s distant voice seemed to come from another realm. You looked up at Sihtric questioningly, only to be met with his reassuring smile.

“I will marry you here before your God, and when we return to Cochem, I’ll marry you again before my gods. Nothing in this world or the next will ever tear us apart.”

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric smut #the last kingdom fanfic

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blue-slxt · 6 months

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Kinktober 28

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Kinktober Masterlist

A/N: This one is another personal favorite of mine! Praise is my shit lol. I also couldn't help but sneak my breeding kink in there too. I hope you guys enjoy! All characters are aged up.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, Praise, Breeding kink, Creampie

You hear footsteps enter your kelku and don’t even bother to turn around and see who it is. “Welcome home, Ma Teyam.” You call out over your shoulder and continue letting your fingers work on sewing the small satchel in your hands. Neteyam walks over and sits down behind you wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you working on?” he asks resting his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

“I heard that Tuk needed a new skin because hers tore so I was making this for her.”

If there was one sure fire way to Neteyam’s heart, it was showing that you loved his family. Nothing made a buzz go straight to his head faster.

He nuzzles his face into the side of your neck and presses light kisses into your skin. “I love you. You are too sweet, you know that?” he mutters.

You smile feeling his lips on your neck knowing where he was going with this. “Neteyam…” it’s supposed to be a warning, but it comes out more as a moan which just spurs him on even more.

“You are so beautiful. So skilled…” his words come through between kisses he trails over the skin of your neck and shoulder. His hands start to roam and grope at your body. Neteyam knew you well enough to know that all his little praises were turning you on. He always does this. Not that you mind, though. Your hands fall and your breathing gets heavier in your chest.

“You’re always so good. Makes me want to give you a baby.” He continues getting lost in his own desire for you and letting his fingers play with the waist band of your loincloth.

“And here I thought you said you wanted to wait a little bit longer.” You tease letting your head roll to the side and give him more access to you.

“Screw that. I want it now. You’d make such a pretty mama. So beautiful carrying my baby.”

You bite your lip feeling his cock already grinding against your back.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

His fangs graze your skin when he smiles and a low groan leaves his throat. One of his hands pushes you forward so that you’re on your knees and elbows in front of him. Your tail waves teasingly at him inviting him in. He wastes no time getting your loincloth off and his own. He gives himself a couple of strokes while staring down your dripping cunt fully on display for him. He can’t help himself from leaning down and tongue kissing your pussy and moaning at your taste.

“Mmm so pink and pretty. And you always taste so sweet. Is this all for me?” he says when his tongue isn’t busy burying itself inside of you.

“Mmhm, it’s yours”

“Good girl” he purrs as he finally sinks his dick into your waiting walls.

A filthy moan drops from your lips while Neteyam starts a steady pace thrusting into you. The constant sound of smack smack smack of his hips against yours made him dizzy with lust.

“Ah, you feel so good, yawne. Taking me so well. I love watching the way your pussy stretches around me. Fuuuck…”

Your head is absolutely spinning between the way his cock is kissing your cervix and how his words are tingling down the back of your neck.

“Haah, more Neteyam! Please!” you cry out.

He leans over right next to your ear, “Look at my good girl using her words.” He can feel himself getting closer to that edge, but he will be damned if he doesn’t get you to finish first. “My special girl, you’re so good letting me use you like this. Making me feel so good.”

“Fuck! I’m going to cum, Neteyam!” the pressure is about to overflow out of your body feeling his cock dragging against that special spot deep inside. “Cum inside of me, please! I need it! Need it so bad!”

A deep growl rumbles in his chest listening to you beg him for his seed. It made him inconceivably hard.

Your chest presses into the ground when your back arches and your thighs tremble feeling your mind and body crash into your orgasm. Neteyam’s name rolls off your tongue like a thankful prayer.

“There you go, yawne. Just like that. Show me how good you feel. Now, take all of it.” His thrusts grow sloppy and lose their rhythm just as he finally lets go and spills his cum into you. Your walls are still pulsing from your release and it feels like he’ll never stop cumming with you coaxing more out of him like that.

His hands hold your hips in place and he stills inside of you hoping to keep as much of his seed inside of you as he can. He leaves kisses up the back of your neck and shoulder whispering about how well you did. An exhausted smiles crawls onto your face while Neteyam brushes some of your braids out of your face.

“I can’t wait to see you pregnant” he says subtly scenting you.

“That’s if it takes.” You mumble out absent mindedly.

“Hmm, good point.” He says wrapping his tail around your thigh and pulling you back with him so that he was lying on his back and you were sitting on top of him backwards. His hand falls in one swift smack on your ass making you yelp out in surprise.

“Guess we should try a couple more times just to be sure.”

Kinktober Taglist: @pandoraslxna @ashlatano7567 @sincerelykaib @jamies-wh0re @quaritchsluts @jakescumdump @delacruzyari @onlyloaksgf @skywonder @taintedlovesworld @myloveforyouisforever @angie-1306 @moodays @childofgod-05 @hadesbabygurl @daddysmurfslefttoenail @loaksulluyswife @y4sm1nsstuff @thewhiltedpeony @lovefrommeelise @neteyamssyulang @rosyjn @imintoomanyfandomscuzihaveadhd @anaclaudiasugar @xxwelshqueenxx @hania11 @xylianasblog @idkanymoregirl @eyrina-avatar @biscuitsaredelish @quinn-sadilla @the_mourning_moon @eyweveng @puddleswimmingnerd-blog @xaxsir @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @navilover24 @sulieykte @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @ntymavtr @fifilynn16 @kiri-tuk @mstocky78 @neteyamyawne @randumfanfics @sliqeramx @bluewonder @the-morning-moon @nerdfacesposts @vip-btxch @neteyamsyawntu @teyamsatan @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @dixonjunkie

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut #avatar way of water #lunaskinktober2023

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andorerso · 2 months

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Rebelcaptain Fluffbruary: Day 28

for the prompt "Shelter" interpreted quite loosely because I just wanted to write the specific scenario in my head

The underground bunker is a shelter, Jyn reminds herself — not a prison. It’s not Lah’mu, waiting for someone to come save her, the memory of Mama falling in the grass still fresh on her mind. She’s twenty-two and she’s a soldier, not a frightened little girl scared of the dark. There are lights here, there’s Cassian here…

Even if Cassian continues to ignore her under the guise of cleaning his blaster. He can’t hide his frustration as easily as he can avoid looking at her. It’s in the stiffness of his movements, the tightness of his jaw, the tension in his posture. It’s in the way he handles his pistol, rougher than usual. The permanent frown etched onto his lips is different than the one he normally wears; it’s not just his resting face, it’s real. Though he won’t say it, the disapproval is radiating off him in waves.

Well, fuck him too. If he thinks she’s going to apologize for anything, he’s got another thing coming.

Good, that’s good, Jyn tells herself, focusing on the burning embers of her anger, rather than the icy fingers of her past. Something to distract her. That fire has kept her marching for two decades and will keep her going for longer if she has anything to say about it.

Throwing one last spiteful glare in Cassian’s direction, she turns towards the hatch above and listens for any sign of life outside, but she can only make out the steady pitter-patter of the rain.

It’s been… what? Three hours now? Those troopers must have given up looking for them.

“I think they’re gone,” Jyn says without withdrawing her gaze from the hatch.

“We should wait a few more hours to make sure,” comes Cassian’s response, smooth and even. You wouldn’t notice how tightly he’s grasping at his self-control with both hands unless you knew what to listen for. “It’s dark outside anyway. We might as well spend the night and leave as soon as dawn breaks.”

There’s one rickety old bed propped against the wall with a single pillow and sheets with suspicious dark patches that look like dried blood, but it isn’t the state of their accommodation that bothers her about the idea. It isn’t even the fact of being underground and in half-light.

She simply cannot take another second in his presence like this.

Jyn’s silence stretches on, but she doesn’t have to voice her displeasure for Cassian to know it. She can practically hear him raising his eyebrows at her in a challenge. “You have somewhere else to be?”

“Anywhere not here,” Jyn says through gritted teeth. It’s a quiet thing, not meant for him in particular, but she knows he heard it anyway.

He doesn’t respond. In the background, she can hear him continue tinkering with his blaster (it’s fucking clean, for star’s sake!), and something in her just snaps.

Shouldering her backpack, she climbs up the ladder and opens the hatch.

“Jyn!” Cassian calls after her in alarm, but she’s not listening. She can make it back to the ship just fine on her own. He can come if he wants; if not, she’ll just wait for him there in the morning.

The rain has picked up from a light drizzle to a heavy downpour, and she’s soaked before she even fully makes it out of the bunker. But she’s not that easily deterred. Jyn straightens, squinting against the heavy sheet of rainfall into the darkness of the night around them. There are no headlights tearing through the trees, looking for them, no chatter between troopers as they trek through the woods, no squishy footsteps in the mud.

They have long abandoned their hunt, Jyn’s sure, and if they haven’t, they surely would now. Visibility is low in these conditions, rendering a search party virtually pointless.

Cassian, carrying his own larger backpack, emerges from the hatch hidden on the dirt floor.

“Where are you going?!” he calls out to her, trying to out-yell the storm raging around them. Thunder grumbles overhead, and a flash of lightning illuminates the forest for a fleeting second.

Shivering, Jyn begins to walk towards the direction of their ship. “They’re gone, Cassian.”

“It’s pouring!” He follows after her, though not before covering the entrance of the bunker with leaves and dirt.

“So what?!” she yells back as he hurries to catch up, but she’s aware she’s being slightly unreasonable. The stupid storm just had to pick up, didn’t it? Well, too bad, she’s not turning back now. “Let’s just get back to the ship and go.”

“This is ridiculous.” Cassian, finally close enough to touch, grabs her elbow to bring her to a halt, and it’s a testament to her respect for him, even still, that all she does is yank her arm out of his grip and glare at him with the fiery rays of the sun instead of breaking his nose.

“No, you're ridiculous!” Great comeback, Jyn. Now you’ve really told him.

He positions himself directly in front of her in an attempt to keep her from advancing and pushes his sodden hair out of his face.

“Jyn, you’re gonna get pneumonia. Let’s go back to the shelter.” His words are stronger than a suggestion, but not quite a command. Still, something in her burns with righteous fury.

“I don’t have to follow your orders,” she snaps, and his eyes darken with the echo of their previous argument. The real heart of the problem.

“I’m not just your friend, Jyn. If we’re on a mission, I’m your superior officer. I can’t work with you if you can’t follow my orders.”

Of course, they are no longer talking about going back to the bunker.

“I can’t work with you if you’re going to tell me to leave you behind!” she snarls, fury spilling over and scorching the earth under them.

His orders — Jyn wants to spit at the word —had been clear. He was cornered and trapped, and she was to return to the ship, bring back the information they came for, and let Intelligence know that he’d been killed in action. That was what he’d asked of her.

Jyn didn’t hesitate a second to disobey him and would do so again in a heartbeat. Let the mission be for nothing, let the rebellion throw her out or put her in a jail cell, whatever. None of it was worth more than Cassian’s life.

Of course, he’d been less than pleased with her decision, especially when a blaster bolt grazed her arm during their escape. He’d patched her up after they holed up in the safety of the bunker, made sure she was okay and not dying, and didn’t say much to her since. Jyn, stilled riled up from the audacity of his orders, was just fine with that.

But this confrontation was inevitable.

“And you’re right, we’re not just friends. You… you’re…” She trails off, swallowing down the vulnerability that threatens to choke her, and tries to find a word appropriate enough to convey what he is to her. “You’re family. And that trumps superior officer — even on a mission. Sir,” she adds after a slight pause, venom in her voice, before sidestepping him to continue her trek.

“Jyn,” he calls after her.

“What, we’re on a first-name basis now?” she shoots back without turning to look. He starts to follow her again.

“That’s not —” He appears in front of her, halting her in her tracks. Again. “When we’re out there, that’s different.”

“It’s not for me. I can’t be like that.” She looks him in the eye, takes a deep breath, tries to temper her anger. “Look. We clearly won’t see eye to eye on this so let’s just go —” She tries to bypass him again, but he moves to stand in her way, and even that small thread of civility snaps in her. “What?!”

“Can’t you at least lie and tell me you’ll follow orders next time?” he asks, irritation coloring his voice.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to live if you die!” she bursts out, then wonders a second later if she said too much. Caring about him, not wanting to see him dead, that’s normal. Platonic.

Expressing a lack of desire to go on if he was killed… not so much.

A long silence follows her words. The storm hasn’t let up, battering them mercilessly with large raindrops, the sound of her own breathing too loud in her ear. Her hair sticks to her cheeks, cold seeping into her bones as they stand there, frozen in time and place, while the world spins on around them.

Cassian looks shaken. She sees, more than hears, a small quivering breath rattling out of him, his eyes suddenly large and shining with a quiet sort of hope she wasn’t prepared for. But she can read it clearly. It’s as if his walls had been knocked down with a single blow, leaving his soft parts exposed and vulnerable. Begging for a cruel blade in his gut. It’s an ugly thought, but she thinks, unbidden, I could crush him. It’d be easy.

Instead, she takes a step forward, reaches out a hand tentatively, and it’s the only invitation Cassian needs. He grabs her waist and hauls her to him, crushing his lips against her own. Jyn isn’t even surprised. She clutches his cheek and drags him ever closer, a year’s worth of pent-up desire, frustration, and pining spilling into that kiss. Rain pours down on them, but she feels nothing of the cold, nothing of the wind, nor of the wet clothes sticking to her skin. Cassian’s fingers tangling in her hair currently take up all of her brain capacity.

Finally, he pulls away and breathes against her mouth, “Thank you. For saving me.”

His eyes are still closed, but Jyn quirks a brow at him. The warmth of his lips is too fresh on her mind to stay mad at him. “You’re giving me mixed messages.”

“It was the wrong thing to do for the mission,” he starts, and Jyn almost growls in warning, don’t fucking ruin the moment, but he hurries to continue. “But it’s not always about the mission. I would have done the same for you. I’m just not used to... I’m not used to people giving a shit about what happens to me.”

I’m not used to people sticking around when things go bad.

Yeah. She and Cassian are kindred spirits — the same picture but painted in different colors.

“It’s what family does,” Jyn tells him, echoing her words from earlier because they hadn’t been untrue. Whatever he is to her, above all — he’s family. A family of her own choice.

“Draven won’t let us work together if I tell him what happened,” he points out, but his face is still doing that thing where he smiles with his eyes, if not his lips.

Jyn shrugs, entirely unapologetic. “So don’t.”

Cassian kisses her again, but he breaks away a lot sooner when she can’t suppress a shiver against his lips. Damn weather. How long have they been standing outside in the rain? Cassian’s warmth is exhilarating, but she fears they really will get pneumonia.

“We should go back to the shelter,” he tells her gently, and this time, she has no objections.

#rebelcaptain fluffbruary #rebelcaptain #rogue one #therebelcaptainnetwork #dailyrebelcaptain #my fics #it's not pure fluff tbh like... they ARE arguing for most of it #but i don't think it's truly angsty either and it has a happy ending so hopefully it qualifies <3 #i mean... it's not february anymore anyway might as well break the rules agfdhgfd

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elvisalltheway101 · 3 months

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————Little Green Apples————

•-• A Someday We’ll Be Together Segment•-• Summary: Just another drabble from “Someday We’ll Be Together.”As thoughts continue to swarm in his head about you. He starts to question his feelings, lying in bed as he sorts his mind.

author’s note: this is all to @jhoneybees, for literaly everything that the chapter got to offer. It goes on the appearance pic (idk what they’re called BUT ITS LITERALLY SOO CUTE. ADORABLE. But ahem, remaining professional, she also introduced me to this darling song. It’s so soft and sweet, and just. AH! I cannot 🫠🫠. So all thank you, thanks, appreciation, go to @jhoneybees!!!!!!

author won’t zip it: I’m literally obsessed with this song. I was listening to this ish while writing this! AHHHHH. But ahem, I’ll be putting out requests after this bit that have been biting dust 🤗

•••••••••••••••••••

Nothing can help. And nothing will.

As Elvis tosses and turns in his stiff, cool white sheets, the blanket riding down to his waist, he just can’t fall asleep. Not with all these thoughts that are just flooding and seeping into his head.

It’s ever since that date. He groans and thinks to himself, running his hands over his face. With his mama working out late til morning, no one’s there to comfort him. Especially not you. He can’t go over at this time of the night, also since the issue is about his thoughts of you.

He flutters his eyes close and crosses his arms of his chest. “Maybe if I just let mah thoughts run, the mind motor will eventually stop, get tired and lemme sleep.” He speaks out loud to himself and nods with a satisfied hum. “Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.”

He lets his mind run and wander. It’s only you.

A whole flash of his imagination sparks into action. Thinking of you on a Sunday at church in a gorgeous white dress, a lacy veil a front of your face that’s nearly see-through. As you and him both stand in front of the beautiful alter, interlocking hands and nodding with grace and confident love. “I do.” Are the only words that ring through his head, and makes his mind hazy in love.

He smiles to himself, maybe letting his mind just think was a good idea. It seems to be relaxing, as he pulls his scruffy, thick blanket to his chin.

It’s you, carrying a darling child that’s bundled in layers of fabric, in your arms. He caresses you into his longing embrace, and looks ahead. Tucking his chin over your shoulder and glancing down at the child you and him have made, nourished and brought into this world. Pressing the tip of his nose to the crook of your neck, inhaling the floral, sweet scent of freshly cut, and juicy green apples.

Little Green Apples.

This was your favorite perfume now, he remembers vividly. In his imagination of the moment, he runs his hand along the immaculate stretch marks that has stretched across your stomach, love handles, and thighs. It’s all from the wonderful, brave birth of your child. He can just hear your sweet giggles and hums as he peppers kisses all over your tummy.

Oh, why did this just have to be his imagination? Wouldn’t it be nice if we were older and we didn’t have to wait so long? He frowns but his eyelids flutter drowsily.

His feelings of slight frustration subsides when he suddenly thinks of going through the door of the place you and him both call home. His cheeks gruffy and covered with oil grease and filth from the works of his plumbing job. Looking everywhere with wooden toy blocks across the floors, scribbles of the children’s art drawn along the wall and he giggled to himself. Only to be met with the comforting sight of you, all round and swollen with another joy inside of your womb, and your arms busy with carrying the two children that you’ve both brought to this earth.

Your tired but delighted eyes, smiling up at him, setting the two offspring duplicates of their parents, and your small, loving arms wrapping around him. He’s completely intoxicated with the sweet smell of your perfume. The perfume that he’s watched you apply all these years. From getting ready to go to parties while babbling to him about whatever gossip, to the day he brought you to the lake around on the first date, and now to here in this imagination.

Little Green Apples.

He nods. Answering and repeating the name of your favorite brand of perfume to himself softly, before drifting off to dream land. Laying cozily on his pillow, and now restful.

“Little Green Apples.”

••••••••••••••

author’s note: I hope you’ve enjoyed this! Especially hunny doll, @jhoneybees. This’ll be the last of the “Someday We’ll Be Together,” segments unless ppl ask for more than sure! But anyway, mwah, mwah dears!

#Spotify #Elvis Presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fluff #elvis presley imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis x reader fluff #elvis imagine #50s Elvis #someday we’ll be together

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nakachuchu · 10 months

Text

Blue | Gojo Satoru

SYNOPSIS: A banished Kamo member who became a single mom was just what Gojo needed in his life.

WORDS: 1.1k

WRITTEN: 07/15/2023

WARNING: alludes to SA/R@PE (not from gojo dw)

NOTE: Thank you for requesting! This was the first request in months that I wanted to write. I've been in a gojo mood

You were a Kamo clan sorcerer and a single mother, facing disapproval and isolation from your own clan due to your situation.

Though you carried the weight of their judgment, you remained determined to protect and provide for your child, shutting off any distractions that might divert your focus.

You were a semi-strict mother, as you wanted the best for your child. You blamed part of your rigid nature on your upbringing in the Kamo clan.

In the midst of this, Gojo Satoru, the enigmatic and powerful teacher from Jujutsu High, caught wind of your existence.

Intrigued by your strength and resilience, he found himself drawn to you. Gojo was used to captivating others effortlessly. But to his surprise, you remained unyielding, refusing to give him the time of day.

You hated how flamboyant he was, and the mere mention of him had a vein on your forehead bulging.

However, your son was a different story. He was utterly enamored with Gojo—mesmerized by his cool demeanor, incredible techniques, and the way he effortlessly wielded his cursed powers.

You never taught your son of Gojo's existence, so you were sure he caught wind of it through his evolving technique — 'Hear ye, hear ye,' the technique to be able to hear anything that is happening from anywhere.

Your son's admiration for Gojo was undeniable. As Gojo continued to pursue you, he began to understand the depth of your determination and the walls you had built around yourself.

Gojo's pursuit of your affection became an intriguing dance, his attempts to impress you met with your resolute indifference. But deep down, he couldn't help but admire your fierce independence and the unwavering love you showed for your son.

Though you resisted his advances, Gojo remained undeterred. He knew that breaking through your barriers would require patience, understanding, and proving himself to be more than just a charismatic and powerful sorcerer.

"Go away."

Gojo pouted, tucking out his shiny lip-gloss-coated lips at you. "Y/N," he cried.

You rolled your eyes. "I've things to do."

"I can do them with you."

"Please don't."

"Why not, Mama?" your son questioned, eyes twinkling in the same way Gojo's eyes were.

Just from the way they both looked at you, you would have thought Gojo was the father of your child.

Your shoulders sagged as you let out a loud sigh. "Fine."

One thing about being banished from the Kamo clan was you weren't under their protection and they were constantly finding ways to wipe you off from their family roster.

A disappointment was not needed in a clan where men ruled. To them, you had fooled around too much and gotten pregnant in the process.

No matter what you told them, they would not listen to you. Zen'in Naoya was someone they would not mess with and pointing fingers at him would harm their clan.

'But, I'm telling the truth!' you had shouted.

Your face stung from your mother's slap. Your ear was perfectly turned toward her now for her to yell at you.

'You think we would believe that Zen'in Naoya would lay a hand on you? You're not that special.'

You left with the clothes on your skin that night. You had been alone for months, giving birth to your son alone in a shabby apartment. You named your son Ao — 'Blue.'

His eyes were as blue as the sky you yearned to fly away to. He was the only one keeping you grounded.

At the sound of a banned Kamo member birthing her son alone, Gojo Satoru became interested in you. That was nearly a decade ago.

Ao's eyes ceased twinkling. He turned around in the direction of a line of trees.

"Mama."

You hummed, snapping open your fan. A slash of blood flew through the air, tearing off branches and leaves in the direction Ao was looking.

A difficult thing about trying to assassinate you was that you were not weak and neither was Ao. As much as he hated his father, he knew the combination of you and Zen'in blood contributed to his technique.

"You'd think they'd wait until you left, Gojo," you commented, amused.

He shrugged. "I guess they promised a big pay."

"You'd think they'd stop after a decade," you said. "Gojo, I trust you can take care of them? Ao and I have errands."

"Hey, what about me?" Gojo questioned.

You already turned to leave with Ao next to you. You looked over your shoulder and offered him a soft, cruel smile.

"Hurry up then."

Gojo grinned, and before you could even blink, he had already disappeared into the line of trees.

“Mama, why don't you just tell him you like him?” Ao asked.

“I think he knows,” you said.

“But what if he doesn't?”

“You should know, Ao. Gojo Satoru knows everything.”

Ao grinned. “You're right! I forgot.”

You chuckled. “How could you forget? You've idolized him ever since he came into our lives.”

Ao shrugged. “He's just always around us.”

Your son was right. Gojo Satoru was an extremely important figure in the Jujutsu world, but he chose to spend his time around a banished Kamo member who cried wolf and her illegitimate son.

Gojo was blessing you and your son with his presence unintentionally, but a blessing was a blessing nonetheless.

The first time Ao saw Gojo was when he was two. He was too young to know anything, but that sealed his fate. Gojo Satoru would be bonded to him.

The first time Ao spoke to Gojo was when he was six. He called out to the man whose thoughts he couldn't hear. Gojo was the only person in the entire world that Ao couldn't hear.

Drawn to the man who was a god in every way, all your lives were interwoven. There was no escaping your threaded destiny to Gojo Satoru. From one distinguished clan to another.

“I'm back!” Gojo exclaimed as he appeared next to Ao, putting your son in between you.

“So slow,” you said.

“Hey, that was fast,” Gojo retorted.

“I expect more from you, Gojo,” you said. “Right, Ao?”

“Right,” he said.

“So mean,” Gojo muttered.

“You're slowing down with age, Gojo. Though I suppose I can't tell gray from white,” you said, amused.

“Are you saying I have gray hairs?”

The man’s hands immediately went to his soft hair, patting every inch of it.

“I'm not saying you don't.”

Ao looked between you and Gojo as you two bickered. He smiled and squeezed both hands. You and Gojo stopped bickering and looked down at him.

At your quizzical stare, Ao shook his head and smiled. At Gojo’s bright laugh, your stare became even more confused.

The two boys who knew everything would keep their thoughts to each other: you were in love with Gojo Satoru.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk kamo #gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #Satoru gojou x reader

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wishesunderthestars · 1 year

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 24

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isn’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 8.2k+

Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse, cursing, past violence, mentions of blood, panic attacks

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23

If you read this, please take some time to vote for BTS at the MAMAs on the Mnet Plus app and for the AMAs on the website VoteAMAs.com or on Twitter.

The taglist is now closed.

There was a deep lull after dinner, surrounded by fairylights on a late summer night with your bellies full of delicious food. You and Seokjin had cooked Michelin-level lasagna and for dessert the best custard tarts you had ever tasted. Seokjin truly was extraordinarily talented at cooking and baking. He could have been one of the best chefs in the world. The only obstacle was his DNA. There were no famous hybrid chefs, probably there were no hybrid chefs at all. For most people it was near impossible to look past the animal ears and tails.

“What are you thinking about?” Seokjin asked. You were the only ones left at the circular bench around the table. You were laying with your back against his side and your head on his shoulder.

“Nothing. Everything,” you said.

You couldn’t see his smile but you imagined it lighting up his face. Seokjin was always beautiful, he was one of the most beautiful people you had ever met. But when he was smiling, he was magical.

“You can never turn it off, can you?” he asked, bumping his hand with yours. You didn’t hesitate to take hold of it and intertwine your fingers.

You looked up at the stars. Away from the heart of the city, they were bright and endless. “I don’t think that’s possible. It’s part of my charm.”

That pulled a laugh out of him and you reveled in it, in the ordinary sanctity of the moment. You took in the view of the garden and hybrids scattered around.

Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting by the pool, their feet dipped in the water, while Hoseok spoke excitedly about something moving his hands around, his tail wagging behind him. Namjoon listened to him like he didn’t want to miss a word falling from his lips. Jimin was curled around Yoongi on the grass, his eyes were closed and you could tell that he was purring without having to hear him. Yoongi was gazing at the stars peacefully, his arms at his sides. Further away, Jungkook and Taehyung were flipping through Jungkook’s latest sketchbook. Taehyung would stop him from turning the page sometimes to run his fingers over a sketch.

Taehyung was still reserved but he was slowly but steadily bonding with the other hybrids. Jungkook had happily told you that they had spent the afternoon painting together and proudly showed off their masterpiece, an artistic mess of colorful lines and funny faces that wouldn’t have looked out of place at a modern art gallery. You had said you were going to hang it up in the gallery unless Taehyung—whose cheeks had turned red for the first time—wanted to keep it. Timidly and in the best english he could master, he asked if he could take it to his room. While the lasagna was in the oven, you and Jungkook put it up on the wall above his bed.

“Summer is ending and I barely felt it,” you said. When you were younger you used to spend summer days swimming and chase the nights until you found the sun with your friends. This year you had only seen the sea from afar or through the window of a plane. “I miss the sea. I miss swimming in water that isn’t in a pool. We should have gone on a trip somewhere with a beach and not as many people as Los Angeles.”

“We can do that next year or whenever your next break is. We can find a place that will be warm enough to swim, can’t we?”

“I’m sure we can.” You had no idea when your next break was. Autumn and winter were full with filming, premieres and press tours. The small breaks in-between were for one or two days and you would usually spend them going over emails and talking with executives. But you would make this happen. “I haven’t been on a leisure trip in a while. It would be fun. We could rent a place by the beach, we could go swimming whenever we wanted, spend the day there. I would drag you into the sea because you would be too afraid to go in.”

“I wouldn’t!” Seokjin protested.

You pushed back against him to tease him. “You totally would. You were terrified to get into the pool where you can clearly see the bottom and there are no currents to be afraid of.”

“I didn’t know how to swim then! And I wasn’t terrified, I was a little scared which is normal, that’s all,” he defended himself.

“A little scared isn’t what I would describe it as.”

“I wasn’t terrified! I wouldn’t have got in the pool if I was!”

You laughed at how defensive he was. It was funny to rile him up, if only just to hear how quickly he could speak. You were too focused on him that you didn’t notice that Jungkook and Taehyung had got up until they had almost reached you. Taehyung was hurrying after Jungkook, struggling to keep up with his fast strides.

The bunny called your name excitedly before they stopped in front of you. “Taehyung wants to go to the lake. Can we please go before your break ends? You said we can go swimming in the summer.”

You had been planning to go to the lake but something always came up. It was only around thirty minutes from your house but you hadn’t been there since early spring.

“There is the trip you wanted,” Seokjin said.

Sometimes, it was hard to believe everything was a coincidence.

“Well, it isn’t the sea. But you can prove to me that I won’t have to drag you into the water there.” At his indignant expression, you turned to the two hybrids. “Of course we can go. There aren’t many days of my break left though. We can go tomorrow if you want, stay there until nightfall.”

Jungkook smiled widely and clapped his hands. You caught the twitch of Taehyung’s lips although his head was bent. “Yes! Thank you! I have never gone swimming in a lake. It will be amazing.”

His excitement was contagious, it got your mind brimming with ideas on how to make tomorrow special. “You should ask the others first. See if everyone agrees about tomorrow.”

“They do,” Jungkook said.

You chuckled. “Okay, ask them just to be sure.”

“You could invite John too,” he added quietly. “And Alice. We haven’t seen her these days and Taehyung hasn’t met her yet.”

You weren’t surprised that John was being missed, he was such an important part of your life and as an extent he was an important part of your family’s life as well. Like you, he was on a well-deserved break and it was almost two weeks since the last time you had seen him and the messages you often exchanged didn’t make you miss him any less.

However, you were worried about overwhelming Taehyung. He had met John back in Seoul but those were memories you didn’t want him revisiting and although little Alice was a charmer she hadn’t developed a filter yet. She was a curious child and you wouldn’t be able to answer all of the questions she was bound to have. Not honestly, at least.

“Inviting Alice isn’t a bad idea,” Seokjin said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “If Taehyung is okay with it, of course.”

Jungkook turned to Taehyung then and proceeded to try to explain to him with simple english and a few hand gestures who Alice was. He didn’t fail to mention that Alice was very cute and gesture how tall—or short in her case—she was. Taehyung seemed thoroughly confused in a way that had you wanting to squeeze his cheeks.

“Hobi,” you called. “We need your help!”

Hoseok’s fox ears twitched. He shot up, ran barefoot across the garden and tackled Jungkook, who was delighted to be in Hoseok’s arms. Both of them laughed wildly, bumping their foreheads together.

“What can I help you with?” he asked, his mouth forming a heart.

“We are planning–” you started but were swiftly interrupted by Jungkook.

“We’re going to the lake tomorrow!”

Hoseok’s face lit up. “Are we? I’ve never been to the lake! Are we really going?”

“If everyone agrees,” you conceded.

It had slipped your mind that Hoseok and Yoongi hadn’t been there on your last trip. It had been only a few weeks after adopting Seokjin as a means to put a pause on your workaholic tendancies. It wasn’t likely that they had ever visited it. Other than Namjoon, no one was very keen on treading the treacherous ground that led to the lake on their own. The trip was a chance for the hybrids to get out of the house and experience something they didn’t get to do often.

Seeing John and Alice was an added bonus. Hoseok lit up like the sun when you told him to ask Taehyung if he was comfortable with them joining you. Taehyung looked at you, his gaze heavy with thousands of things he didn’t say. He averted his eyes too soon as if he caught himself doing something improper.

“He said if that’s what you want,” Hoseok translated.

You cursed the language barrier. There were thousands of things you wanted to say too, you could build mountains with them and watch them grow taller and taller until they crumbled. There was no point in them, not when he couldn’t understand. It wasn’t the same hearing it from someone else.

“It isn’t about what I want. It is about what he wants,” you said. Hoseok translated again and Taehyung looked confused like there was something he couldn’t understand.

“He doesn’t mind,” Hoseok said in the end.

Even if he did, you doubted he would tell you. There wasn’t anything more you could do.

Jungkook looked at you expectantly, his eyes wide and sparkling. You gave in, “Alright, go tell Namjoon and Yoongi and make sure they agree. I will text John to see if they can make it.”

He jumped up and down—a reaction that could be due to his bunny genetics and was way too cute for you to handle—before running off to tell them. By the way they were looking at you and their superior hearing, they had already heard most of your conversation.

You leaned back against Seokjin again as Hoseok took Taehyung by the hand and followed Jungkook, gesturing at the direction of the lake as he spoke.

“Looks like we’re going to the lake tomorrow,” you said, typing a message to John. “You’ll have to brave the forest again.”

"Sadly, there isn't. Unless you can fly."

He groaned purely for show. “Not again! What have a done to deserve this? These feet weren’t made for dirt and roots. Isn't there a way to get to the lake without walking through the forest?"

A new message appeared on your screen. John was as diligent at texting as he was in every other aspect of his life and he disapproved of your tendency to see the messages but leave them unanswered until later.

“They don’t have anything planned for tomorrow and Alice is apparently jumping all over the house right now, singing that she will go to the lake tomorrow to see all her new friends.”

“She is adorable,” Seokjin cooed. “I want to squeeze her.”

“You can do that tomorrow. She likes the attention.” You straightened and grabbed his arm, wrapping it around your waist before sinking back. “Better.”

Not many preparations were needed for a trip to the lake. After all, it was only a relatively short walk from your house. If you needed anything, you could send Namjoon who could make it back in half the time compared to the rest of you. That of course didn’t stop Seokjin from waking up before the sun had risen to make an array of snacks and baked goods to take with you.

You found him in the kitchen, wearing his cute pink apron streaked with flour. He was determined to make the best cheesecake any of you had ever tasted because you had mentioned it was Alice’s favorite. There was no chance you could changed his mind so you joined him. You worked together in the chef’s kitchen for about thirty minutes before Jungkook and Jimin arrived set on helping you.

The cute baskets with the blue and white ribbons you had brought back from Virginia were filled with sandwiches, pies, croissants, cupcakes and the much-anticipated cheesecake. The delicious aroma lured the rest of the hybrids to the kitchen. Hoseok batted his eyelashes at Seokjin who fed him a cupcake while a few more disappeared mysteriously.

Helen and her team would be arriving soon to do a deep cleaning of the bedrooms and the main rooms. The Castle hadn’t had a good cleaning since you arrived from Seoul. At first, you were worried about raising any questions about Taehyung’s presence and after his papers were ready, you were worried about him feeling uncomfortable with new people in the house. Your trip to the lake was the perfect chance for the Castle to get a good day of cleaning. You had also asked the company that made the piano currently residing in Jacob’s studio to send some people to move it to the living room and they would be coming later in the day.

The doorbell rang for the first time this morning. John had texted you that they were on their way so you knew who it was without looking through the peephole. Alice trapped you in a tight hug and you picked her up, turning around in circles to hear her laugh.

“Put me down! Put me down,” she said, her breaths short and mirthful.

“Should I? Are you sure?” you asked, bumping your noses together.

Alice scrunched her nose, nodding. “I need to say hello to my friends. I said hello to you.”

You chuckled and put her down. “You’re right. Go say hello to them, they’re waiting to see you.”

Jimin and Hoseok had followed you into the living room and they were the first ones to be attacked by Alice’s super tight hugs. She might be tiny but her hugs were inescapable.

“She likes them a lot,” John said. A pink sparkling backpack, a stuffed mermaid hanging from one zipper, was slung over his shoulder.

“Alice likes everyone a lot.”

Hoseok had picked her up to take her to the kitchen and Alice placed a large kiss on his cheek to thank him.

“She has good instincts about people. She disliked that Walker guy the moment she met him.” Josh Walker was a producer you had worked with twice in the past and vowed to never work with again. A huge gossip in the worst way possible and a master at avoiding responsibilities. “And she didn’t–” He cut the sentence in the middle.

“She didn’t like Jacob either,” you finished for him. Alice was a polite kid but it was obvious when she disliked someone. She hugged you, held your hand and sat on your lap and she only spoke to Jacob when it was necessary. And it wasn’t just you, it was the same with Taylor and Zayn, who she both loved very much. Only Jacob didn’t get the same treatment. “You can say it. I’m over him, you know.”

John’s smile said more than any words could. “I believe you are.”

You believed you were too. You had been for a long time. He was a part of your past and you were done living in it. Sometimes you forgot about him now when once his name was was written all over the Castle. The memories were faded, more radiant ones taking their place.

“I think out of everyone she was the happiest when she learnt we broke up,” you said. “She was so pleased she’d never have to play nice with him again.”

At the time, although it had seemed funny to you, it had also hurt a little. In the end, it was for the best.

“She was trying to play matchmaker and get you together with her favorite teacher. It was one obstacle out of the way.”

You laughed remembering how she would show you pictures of him, telling you he was very handsome and very clever and he liked reading books just like you. One day you had been with John when he went to get her from school and Alice had dragged you inside to meet a very much awestruck teacher.

“At least she has forgotten about that now,” you said.

John sent you an amused look. “Wait until she gets back to school and she remembers how dreamy her teacher is and that you are still single.”

“Let’s go find your little troublemaker before the boys kidnap her,” you said, eager to end the conversation. John was gracious enough to grant you that.

In the kitchen, Alice had spotted Yoongi and climbed on the chair next to him. She had developed a soft spot for the panther hybrid since her last visit. On his part, Yoongi didn’t know what to do with a small human and how to entertain her. To his credit, he was doing just fine.

Hoseok was doing silly dance moves to make her laugh and Jimin was sitting on Yoongi’s other side dragging his nails down the panther’s back. Yoongi didn’t react. Jungkook and Seokjin were tying the ribbons on the baskets into bows and Namjoon was attempting to do the same unsuccessfully.

The only one missing was Taehyung.

“Okay, we’re almost ready to go,” you said, calling everyone’s attention. “Can someone go get Taehyung?”

“I’ll go. He must be awake by now.” Hoseok offered and left to fetch him.

Alice’s large eyes turned to you. “Is Taehyung the tiger hybrid daddy told me about? He said to be extra polite to him. Is it true that he doesn’t speak english?”

“He understands the basics, Hobi helps with the rest. He translates what we say to him so we can all understand each other.”

She nodded like it was the most important thing she had heard today. “But why don’t you learn korean? Won’t it be easier to talk to him then?”

You stared at the six-year-old for a long moment, speechless. “That would make things easier, wouldn’t it? Maybe we should try.”

Alice smiled widely, showing one missing tooth and one half-grown. “You should. Mommy says understanding others is important.”

“She is right,” John said, patting her head. “You should listen to others and understand them.”

“Mommy is always right,” Alice emphasized. “More often than daddy.”

John sighed in a ‘I’ve-listened-to-that-many-times-and-I-am-not-going-to-argue’ way. “Thanks, monkey. I appreciate it.”

Alice giggled before her attention swiftly shifted, like children’s attention tended to do, to Yoongi’s tail and the way it moved. Luckily she didn’t try to pet it and didn’t ask either, remembering how John had told her it was rude last time. She restricted herself to asking questions like if he could move it at will, whether it hurt if he accidentally sat on it and more. Yoongi answered willingly, if a little flustered at the attention.

John weighted the baskets in his hand. They were full to the brim with delicious food and if you had let Seokjin get his way, there would be more. Enough to feed half the city.

The doorbell rang again, signaling that Helen and her team were here. John followed you to the living room to greet her and catch up. It was strangely like they were your parents when they talked about you. They acted like you weren’t standing right there and listening to everything.

Since you were little more than a ghost in this conversation, when Hoseok and Taehyung climbed up the stairs, you went with them back to the kitchen. Alice had gotten her hands on a vanilla muffin and her mouth, nose and cheeks were smeared with blue icing.

You put your hand on your waist and regarded her. “You can get anything with your puppy eyes, can’t you?” Alice gave you an innocent smile, her lips painted blue. “Who fell for it first?” She pointed at Yoongi and your stern facade cracked. Apparently it wasn’t only Alice who had a soft spot.

“It’s just a cupcake,” Yoongi said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“It is just a cupcake but it will fill her stomach with sugar and then she won’t eat the food Jin worked so hard on,” you said, grabbing a napkin.

Alice licked her lips. It didn’t make them look any less blue. “Jin worked hard on the cupcakes too. They are super good. So good I could eat ten of them.”

“Thank you,” Jin said, his cheeks bunching up in an adorable smile. “But eating ten of them will make your stomach hurt.”

Alice opened her mouth to speak while you wiped the icing from her face before her eyes landed on the hybrid she hadn’t met. “Is that Taehyung?”

“Yes, this Taehyung,” you said, still trying to clean her face as best as you could. “And right now you look like the Cookie Monster.” Alice giggled like fairy bells.

Taehyung was looking at Alice in wonder.

“Taehyung, this is Alice. She is John’s daughter,” you said, getting up to throw the now blue napkin away. Alice’s face was as clean as it could get without washing it with water.

Hoseok didn’t translate, it was simple enough english for Taehyung. “Hi,” he said, waving at her shyly. You resisted the urge to coo at him.

Alice waved back enthusiastically. “Hello! You are very pretty.”

Taehyung’s lips parted in surprise. “Thank you,” he said shakily.

Helen and John walked in then, a broom in Helen’s hand. For her, it was an accessory. It didn’t mean she would start cleaning by sweeping the floors.

“Goodmorning to everyone,” she said in greeting. Her smile had a motherly quality to it that made people want to be on their best behavior around her. “I see you’re all ready for today. And someone has already dived into the food.”

John eyed his daughter and the pink and white dotted cupcake liner left on the table. “What did we say about sweets in the morning?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Morning is for fruits, we eat sweets after lunch,” she recited.

“What is that then?”

She put her elbows on the table and cupped her face with her hands. “It is a special day today. On special days we don’t have to follow that rule. We ate cake in the morning of your birthday.”

“You’re too clever for your own good,” John said then looked at you. “She’s starting to sound like you, finding loopholes.”

Alice giggled, pleased at that.

“I don’t do that,” you protested.

“Oh yes, you do. And you know that you do it,” Helen said, pointing at you with the broom. “You can get out of anything by talking. I remember Amelia telling me that those poor professors of yours at University had no idea what to do with you. You used to send them those emails when you were absent, right?”

You glued your lips together, searching for a way to get out of this. “I was practicing diplomacy.”

“Is that what we call that now?” John asked, amused.

“Forget it,” you said. “Let’s go, let’s go. We have a lot of walking to do and it’s best to be out before the heat spikes.”

It was a beautiful day, the kind of Californian weather you would see on postcards. The sky was clear except a couple of fluffy white clouds gliding across. The perfect day for a small adventure. You had worn your bikini underneath your clothes, planning to go in for a quick dip in the lake and you had persuaded Seokjin, Jungkook and Hoseok to put on swimming trunks. Alice was also wearing her swimsuit, the wide neck of her shirt didn’t cover the hot pink strings.

In your backpack, you had packed a first-aid kit, two bottles of sunscreen, a pen and a notebook—just in case you got inspiration—, a towel and anything else you thought you might need. You had written down a list last night on your phone and you hoped you hadn’t forgotten anything.

Your way down to the lake was filled with laughter as you stepped over protruding roots and each of you tripped at least once. Excluding Namjoon, who in his many walks had memorized each stone and root. John was carrying both a basket and the small portable fridge stocked with water bottles, fresh orange juice and lemonade, coca cola bottles and a few cans of beer. Jungkook, Namjoon and Yoongi were holding the other three baskets.

The moment you emerged from the trees, Alice sprinted to the lake and dipped her hands in. “It isn’t cold!” she shouted. “Can we go swimming?”

“Why don’t we rest for a bit first?” you asked. Swimming would be a great relief from the summer heat but your legs were tired from walking and your throat dry.

Namjoon stood next to you and placed a hand on your back. It sent a pleasant tingle up your spine. Wordlessly, he handed you his water bottle and you gulped down half of its contents.

You and Jimin laid down the two large checkered blankets, one in red and white and one in blue and white. On top of them, you placed the baskets to stop any sudden gusts of wind blowing them away. It was too early to unpack the food. You had finished breakfast not an hour ago and you weren’t hungry yet.

Alice bounced over to the fridge and rummaged through it for a drink. Victorious, she held up a bottle of coke like a trophy.

In the hour you hadn’t checked your phone, a line of messages had filled the screen of your phone. You had pulled it out to look at the time. Nine thirty. Seven emails from work and four texts, two from the producer of the Raven Cycle and two more from the showrunner. A reminder that soon, this would be over and you would go back to leaving as the sun rose and returning when it had long left the horizon.

But it wasn’t over yet. This was a day of relaxation and you wouldn’t let yourself ruin it. You put your phone on silent and shoved it deep inside your backpack.

Hoseok shouted your name before he was crushing on you, sending you down on the blanket. His laughter filled the air as Alice also jumped on you. She was as light as a feather but you both groaned when she landed on you.

“I caught you,” Alice proclaimed. “I win!”

You were roped into playing hide and seek with the two of them, Jimin and Jungkook. Taehyung sat on the edge of the blanket watching you. He looked like a painting by a long dead artist, whose name was shadowed by his art. Someone who dreamed of beauty but lived in pain.

In a truly unpredictable turn of events, Alice got Yoongi to join you. He was quick, much quicker than you. To run away from him, in a childish fit of desperation, you took off your shirt and your shorts in record speed and dove into the lake. Only a few steps from the shore, it was deep enough for you to disappear in the water. The shouts and the laughter got muffled. Water took over your senses, they were dull under the surface but the world was so vibrant.

You emerged and swallowed mouthfuls of air. You must have stayed under longer than you’d thought because your lungs ached for it.

When she saw you, Alice cheered. “I’m going in,” she told her father and John didn’t oppose her. He helped her take off her clothes and she ran to you, water splashing everywhere. You swam to the shallow part and she fell right into your arms. Over her head, your eyes locked with John’s. He trusted you with her.

You goaded Seokjin into getting in the water too, reminding him what he said to you last night. It took a few tries but soon he was in the water with you, Alice clinging to his waist like a koala. You didn’t stray far from the place that your feet could touch the ground just in case. You were a great swimmer, good enough to act as a lifeguard, but you took care so it wouldn’t come to that.

After a lot of playing around, throwing water at each other and seeing who could swim the fastest—Alice won each time, complaining that you were letting her win—you climbed up the rocks and rested back on your elbows. Your skin and hair were dripping water, the sun slowly drying you. You watched Jungkook and Seokjin chasing each other as Alice and Hoseok acted as what looked like referees. For what, you weren’t sure.

This would be one of the first scenes of a movie. Bright, beautiful and full of life. Summer music playing in the background, a soft but happy song. You could see the montage in your mind, the way they would cut and stitch together the scenes. The close-ups and the movement of the camera.

Or it could be the Supposed Victory, just before the disaster. Before everything went wrong and the world crumbled. A moment of unrestrained joy when the protagonist believed everything would work out.

Or it could be the ending. It didn’t feel like one.

Alice was sitting next to Taehyung the next time you looked for her. His mouth wrapped clumsily around english words you couldn’t read as he pointed to her hair. Alice touched her head before a bright smile took over her face. She unclipped one of her rainbow butterfly clips and offered it to him. He held it reverently like it was a small miracle, unsure what to do with it. Alice took it again and clipped back the strands of hair that were falling in his face.

She was a force of nature, sweeping up everyone in her path. You longed for the sweet innocence and her pure heart. She was everything that was good in this world.

You wondered who you would have become if you had parents like John. Parents that would always be there for you, do everything for you, give you everything they could. How different would you be? Would you have the same drive? The same unrelenting ambition? If your parents had cared, would you be there, in that moment?

No, probably not. You decided you didn’t want that then. You had found your own family. You weren’t connected by blood but by choice. They had been there when you needed them in all the ways your biological family failed to be. You didn’t want to be any other version of yourself but this. The one who had them, who loved them, the one who was loved by them.

Seokjin, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket, wet hair falling in his eyes, called for you to climb down to eat. The food was piled on the blankets and Jungkook was already munching on a piece of pie. Dutifully, you descended, pinching Seokjin’s cheek passing by. He complained but it was drowned by the delighted noises as the food was revealed.

“Wait, wait,” you said, getting up not a full minute after you had flopped down on the blanket. “I want to take a photo before the food disappears.”

“Quickly,” Jungkook begged, eying a sandwich lovingly.

“For you, as quickly as I can.”

That seemed to make him happy. You reached into your backpack for your professional camera, it was in a padded case that had cost you as much as a regular camera would. In University, you had taken a few classes of photography as a part of your degree. It was useful for your profession and for your social media presence. Most of all, it was good for memory keeping.

You rushed to a spot a few meters away from the blankets and lowered yourself to find the best angle. “Smile!” you called.

You captured around five photos and looked through them. Taehyung was smiling, tentatively at first, just a tiny tilt of the lips and wider in the last ones, following the others’ example.

The photos were beautiful. As magical as a fleeting moment of happiness you would never forget. You were going to frame them.

“Give me the camera,” John said, getting up.

You gazed at him suspiciously. “What are you going to do with it?”

“Take a photo. What else would I do?” he joked. “Go sit with them. Get in the frame."

You giggled, sitting down at the blanket. Alice didn't waste any time and climbed into your lap. You wrapped your arms around her waist and she leaned back into you. On your side, Hoseok threw an arm over your shoulder and smiled blindingly.

John handed you back the camera and everyone gathered around to peek at the photos. Alice pointed to every photo and said it was her favorite until she concluded that her favorite was the one that you were kissing her cheek because you were in it and it was cute.

"I see how it is. The photos she is in are the ones I'm not in," John said.

"I have so many photos with you," Alice shot back, opening her arms as if to show how many they were. "You can't have it all."

Not even John could stop himself from dissolving in laughter. Alice was an expert at throwing your words back at you.

When everyone was satisfied with the photos—you put your camera by your side, easy to reach in case you wanted to take more photos—lunch began. Swimming created a weightless hunger, a kind you hadn't felt in any other circumstances. Food tasted ten times better after you had been swimming. Seokjin's food was already delicious so it tasted like magic, the way you imagined all that mouth-watering food from movies or books would taste.

You were filled to the brim yet when the desserts were out, you couldn't stop yourself from accepting the piece of cheesecake Seokjin thrust in your direction. The cream was soft and light and the homemade blackberry jam elevated the taste.

Alice was attacking a bowl of fresh strawberries and dipping them in chocolate. The chocolate dripped, staining her mouth and hands but she didn’t care.

“Are they good?” you asked.

She nodded enthusiastically, giving you a big smile that showed off her chocolate teeth. She lifted the bowl towards you.

“That’s too much sugar for one day,” John said but didn’t say anything else to stop her.

Jimin was laying his head on your shoulder, drowsy after a big meal. You picked up a strawberry from the bowl Alice was holding up for you and dipped it in chocolate. Acting thoughtlessly, instead of bringing it to your mouth, you nudged it against Jimin’s lips, coating them with chocolate. His mouth parted easily, letting you feed him. A blush tinted his cheeks as he bit down.

His pink lips looked sinful covered in chocolate. His tongue darted out to lick them clean. You couldn’t take your eyes off him.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Can I… Do you want one?”

Your heart was beating louder than it should. Alice had turned her attention back to Yoongi. When your eyes locked, you couldn’t read them. You never could.

You turned back to Jimin, his eyes mirroring the sky. “They do look delicious.”

Jimin picked up a strawberry and—a little clumsily—fed it to you. Your lips nearly touched his fingers, only a breath away. It was the best strawberry you had ever tasted. Nothing could ever compare to it.

“I want a strawberry too,” Jungkook said, timid in a way he wasn’t often anymore. Like he wasn’t sure you would indulge him.

“Come here then, bunny.” As soon as you finished, Jungkook crawled across the blanket to sit on your other side. He opened his mouth, waiting. Your brain was a train wreck, going off the rails, jumping off bridges.

You lifted a strawberry to his lips the way you had done with Jimin. He munched on it slowly, his eyes not leaving yours as if he were hypnotized.

You should snap out of it.

“You’re so messy,” you joked to lighten the atmosphere between the three of you. “How did that chocolate get on your cheek?”

Jungkook stammered and you grabbed a paper towel laughing. Everyone soon followed and Alice managed to get a photo of Jungkook with your camera before you could clean his face. It had to be enough.

"I'm going for a walk," you announced a while later, feeling bloated. "I need to move. I feel like I ate a small town.”

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He was stretched on the grass, his head laying in Seokjin’s lap. Seokjin’s fingers were tangled in his hair.

You shrugged. You hadn’t thought of where to go exactly, only that you had to get up or you would fall asleep with a heavy stomach. “Just a walk around here. There are some parts of these shores I haven’t seen in a while.”

“Don’t be too long,” Jimin said.

“If you’re gone for more than thirty minutes, I will send a search party,” John remarked. He was braiding Alice’s hair back because she had been whining that it was getting in her face. Meanwhile, she was drawing with Taehyung in his new notebook. He didn’t look like a doll then but a little confused, a little fond. A little happy, if you dared to hope.

You pocketed your phone and made a note to yourself to check the time. You wouldn’t put it past John to actually send a search party after you.

“I’ll go too,” a voice spoke up, surprising you. Yoongi rose to his feet smoothly like a predator, his tail curving behind him. Everyone was staring at him but he pretended he didn’t notice.

You couldn’t tell him no. You didn’t want to tell him no. Going on a walk alone with him didn’t spark the same anxiety it would have a month or so ago. You were a little nervous but the flutter in your stomach wasn’t unpleasant. He had changed and maybe you had too.

“Okay, then, let’s go,” you said, inclining your head towards the forest. “We will be back soon.”

Yoongi followed you silently into the labyrinth of trees. There must be something he wanted to talk to you about. You didn’t believe he had joined you simply because he wanted to go on a walk. Yoongi was more solitary than any of the hybrids and although you were getting along better now, you weren’t his first choice of company.

Of course, your mind jumped to the worst possibilities. He had noticed what was happening between you, Namjoon and Seokjin and he was going to confront you about it. Growl and snarl at you the way he had done so often in the past. And what would you do then? He wasn’t going to harm you, you were sure of that. He wasn’t. But his words sneaked underneath your skin so easily, burrowed deep inside you and refused to budge.

It didn’t have to be something bad, you reminded yourself. It could be something else but you couldn’t think of anything.

He would find out about the three of you either way, regardless of how long you put it off. You were a family, you thought of them as your family even if Yoongi didn’t—you had a feeling the rest of them did. It was important for you to be honest with them. If he exploded, if he sneered and accused you of manipulating them, it would hurt too much. You had grown too comfortable with this new Yoongi and it would shatter a piece of you to go back. But you would try. You would get over it. You would have a few new cracks but that’s how life was, you got a little more broken as time passed.

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi disturbed the silence between you.

“Nothing interesting,” you said, ducking underneath a low hanging branch. The summer heat was muted in the shade of the forest. In there, you could forget that you were in California.

Yoongi’s footsteps echoed yours on the drying soil. “You are making that face you make when you are troubled.” Sometimes, you forgot how observant he was. He may not speak much but he was paying attention.

"It's just…" You weren't sure how honest you should be with him. "It's everything. There's too much going on and I've been too much in my head about it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Talk? Right now?" you asked. The walk was supposed to help you clear your head and contemplate the situation you found yourself in. Now, one of the main characters starring in your worst case scenarios was offering to listen to you. “Are you sure you want to listen to me rant?”

You saw Yoongi shrug from the corner of your eye. “Are you going to?”

“Don’t feel like ranting today.” You looked up at the mosaic of the sky through the branches. “It’s too good of a day for that. My problems will be right where I left them when we get back home. I should let them go for a day.”

Yoongi hummed. “You should but you don’t look like you’ve let them go. They are still there.”

“I’m trying. It isn’t my fault they won’t go away. It’s too busy in here,” you tapped the side of your head with a finger, “and it’s a headline. It’s hard to look past it.” You had never been good at letting go of things easily. Fears, relationships, people. Your therapist would tell you to find the root of that and unravel it. You hadn’t touched it yet.

“It’s your head,” Yoongi said. “You should be the one to decide what are headlines and what is the fine print. Hell, throw away pages if you don’t want them there. Or hide them away to look at some other time.”

Your fingers grazed the rough bark of a tree. That wasn’t how you looked at it. Your brain threw things at you and you had to deal with them. Most of the time, when it came to matters like this, you weren’t the one controlling it.

“I hadn’t thought of it like that,” you admitted. “I guess I could make a new headline. A better one. Something like ‘Family trip to the lake. Everyone is required to have fun.’ How does that sound?”

A smile tugged at his lips. “It doesn’t sound too bad. It could be worse.”

The trees thinned as you got closer to your destination. This part of the shoreline wasn’t open and spacious the way the place you had picked for your picnic was. Trees dotted the ground and the the water was lower than the ground. A deck that had fallen in disrepair stood alone at the edge.

A path half overrun by vegetation led up to a house that didn’t fare much better. Vines were growing up its wooden walls and a large tree was leaning precariously on its side. It must have been abandoned for years, ten or more if you had to guess. Mold, stale and earthy, permeated the air. Two of the windows were broken. The one remaining curtain was moth eaten.

You liked to imagine its history and the reason it was abandoned. A family lived there for generations but when the times got faster and industrial, they left it in favor of the heart of the city where opportunities were said to lie. A grandson inherited the house but didn’t have the means to take care of it and no one would buy it. A family spent their summers there, swimming in the lake and lighting fires at night, the kids grew up, got jobs and forgot about this place. Memories weren’t enough to keep it alive and even they were gone.

That’s when your inner-storyteller jumped out and the stories turned darker, more interesting. Embroidered with intrigue, isolation, curses, ghosts and death.

Yoongi looked at the house in curious interest.

“I discovered this in my first trip to the lake. There is something compelling about it that makes you want to learn more about it, about the story behind it,” you said. “Who it belonged to, why it is abandoned.”

“Everything is about stories to you,” Yoongi observed.

You followed the overgrown path up to the house. “We are stories. Each day, each moment, many moments together. The world is a story. Sad and happy, exciting and boring, sometimes disappointing. Who we are is a collection of stories. The ones we tell and the ones we keep locked deep inside us. They shaped us, even the ones we don’t remember.”

“If the world is a story, is that why you do what you do? Because you don’t want to be a villain? Someone the audience won’t like?”

Birds chirped in the distance, the song of summer’s passing. The lake was calm but you thought you could hear it licking the rocks and the old deck.

Your whole life you had studied stories. You were fascinated by them, the feelings they evoked, their messages, their hidden meanings, their structure. It was why you were a good director and screenwriter, why people were drawn to your movies and shows. You could fundamentally understand stories, pull them apart until you reached their bare bones and build them up again. Everything was about stories.

Your life had to be the same then. You were a story like all the others. What set you apart?

You weren’t the villain, you couldn’t be. You didn’t want to be.

You remembered all the times in your life you had likened yourself to a character trope or thought how a situation would have unfolded if it were in a movie. Perhaps you were too focused on stories, too deep in worlds that didn’t exist. Did that influence the way you acted? The decisions you took?

“I’m not a movie hero,” you said instead. “I don’t think I try to be one. I try to do my best. Stories are about morality in a way and everyone can perceive them differently. Everyone will have their opinions.”

Yoongi stood next to you, your shoulders touching. “You act like a movie hero. Who would go into a hybrid auction, put themselves in danger, with nothing to earn?”

“Someone foolish.”

His lips quirked up, untangling something in your heart. “That too, I guess.”

“I went in the first time,” you said, looking at the rundown house. “The roof looked like it would fall down any moment but I went in anyway. I wanted to see what was inside, what life was left in it.”

Yoongi snorted. “You went into a house knowing the roof could fall down on your head?”

“I told you, I have my foolish moments.” There were too many of those to count. Little ideas overtook your rational side and tempted you. “I wasn’t alone though. At least I had that much common sense.”

You didn’t say that you had been with Jacob. It felt weird to mention him like his name would be intruding.

“Did you find anything?” Yoongi asked like he really cared about the answer.

“Not much. A few pieces of rotten furniture, a couple broken plates in the kitchen, a very very old vase. Little signs of life. There were lines carved on the wall, horizontal, like they were measuring children’s heights. Scratches on the kitchen counters. There was a frame broken on the floor, I couldn’t see the photo well, it was yellow with age.”

Together, you looked at the house quietly, picturing the life it once held.

“Let’s walk some more before our time is up and John sends a search party for us,” Yoongi said, his fingers brushing the delicate skin of your wrist. The touch was light as a feather. Autumn and winter rolled away and it was spring again. The melting of snow, the first flowers blooming.

“Don’t underestimate him. If we’re late, he is going to call a search party.”

“I don’t underestimate him. I know he will.”

Please comment and reblog it motivates me to keep writing

#castlebangtan #bts #bts x reader #bts hybrid au #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts #poly!bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts hurt/comfort #bts angst

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miracles-and-butterflies · 5 months

Note

How exactly Mirabel reacted to Luisa's snapping? And did Parce find Tío Bruno? Does Dolores listen to what's going on right now?

All will be revealed presently.

Warning, potentially sensitive topics below.

~~~~~~

Mirabel flinched, looking away.

Luisa quickly realised her mistake.

“Mirabel, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean… I’m not mad at you, hermanita.” She tried to ignore the yellow tags scratching against her chest and arm as Mirabel moved her head - they must be scratching Mirabel’s neck raw on the other side. It’s so rough and jagged.

She turns on the spot, trying to think of where their mother might be and catches Isabela just watching in the doorway.

“What the fuck do you want?” She growled.

“That’s why you…” said Isabela, quietly.

Luisa was fully ready to smack her older sister aside too, but Isabela was already walking over.

“Hold still, sis,” Isabela instructed, reaching for the deer tags, one at a time. “I’m gonna try get these things off, okay?”

Mirabel sucked in a breath, closing her eyes and curling further inwards to Luisa. But, she seemingly gave Isabela permission to get close. Isabela removed each of the tags easily enough, tossing them to the bloody puddle on the ground.

Luisa didn’t know how to react.

“Walk, Luisa.” Isabela snapped, swatting her shoulder when she didn’t move. “We don’t have time. Walk.”

Luisa huffed and started walking.

Isabela trailed along beside her, equal paced, trying to keep focus on Mirabel, who was just a bloody bundle of nerves and lightheadedness.

“Glasses,” Isabela prompted next. “Where are your glasses?”

Mirabel hesitantly opened her eyes again. “I don’t know…”

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Um… just keep talking. Tell us about something.”

“Something?”

“Anything. Just keep talking until we find Mama. We don’t want you passing out. So talk. Whatever you want. The French Revolution or something.”

Mirabel took a breath, wincing through the pain, but not even that could stop her from giving a historical lectures.

“In 1789, the people of France—”

Luisa nudged Isabela with her elbow.

Isabela raised an eyebrow, briefly glancing over, but tried to keep as much of her focus on Mirabel as possible.

She clearly expected Luisa to push her away.

“I, um… thank you.” Luisa muttered. “I wouldn’t have thought to do that.”

“You’re welcome, mi hermanita.”

“Okay, that’s too far.”

~~~~~~

Dolores had raided the medical cupboard that Julieta kept in case of emergencies, dumping the supplies beside her brother.

Camilo shifted himself back against the wall, mumbling some gratitude but nevertheless remained quiet and let Dolores do whatever she needed to.

He had no understanding of this stuff. And he trusted his sister.

Who didn’t?

Older sisters can be so protective.

If there’s anything Camilo has learnt in the last five minutes, it’s that.

“What happened?” Dolores asked, gently.

He shrugged, groaning in pain. “I don’t know. Luisa just came in from nowhere.”

“What happened?” Dolores asked again. This time it wasn’t as gentle. Almost flat and cold and even disbelieving as she said the words.

Camilo wasn’t stupid enough to realise Dolores would eventually hear something.

“It was just a prank that Mirabel has worked herself up about. You know how sensitive she is. And all her overthinking. It was just a joke!”

Dolores sighed, “And we all know Luisa can be overbearing.”

That’s when the sound of claws against tiles were heard and Parce skidded into the room with Antonio on his back, several rats following along behind (some clinging to Parce and Antonio), just as Bruno stumbled in.

Bruno ran a hand through his hair. “Holy shit.”

“Camilo! Camilo, are you okay? Are you sore? Should I send Parce to get Tía Julieta?” Antonio rambled, worriedly.

Bruno ran a hand down his face. “Holy shit.”

“Yes, please. Thank you, Antonio.” Dolores answered. “Why don’t you go with him?”

Antonio didn’t need telling twice. He carefully directed the rats to stay and help Bruno (alongside Dolores with Camilo), while he and Parce quickly left in search of the healer.

“What happened?”

“Luisa. Overprotective, again.”

“When?”

“Just a few minutes ago.”

“Is she done?”

“Isabela managed to get her to stop.”

“Where is she now?”

“Outside, somewhere.” Dolores clicked her tongue in frustration. “Are you going to help or are you going to keep distracting me, Tío? Because right now I would be more grateful for the former.”

Bruno shook himself, sitting down. “Yes, yeah, yep, of course.” He offered a sad smile to Camilo. “You look to be in a rough shape, sobrino.”

“That’s Luisa for you,” Camilo wheezed as Dolores pressed a cloth against his nose.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have words…” on second thought that idea didn’t sound great. “With Julieta and Agustín,” Bruno amended. “They’ll sort her out. Stop things like this happening again.”

#encanto #ask me anything #my writing #luisa madrigal #isabela madrigal #mirabel madrigal #dolores madrigal #camilo madrigal #antonio madrigal #bruno madrigal #julieta madrigal #agustín madrigal #encanto karma au

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fandoms--fluff · 2 years

Note

Hi I’m this my first thing I’m doing on here but anyway could you do little fem reader x mama Nat x mommy wanda where all of the team has gone a mission and the villain brings something up about our pass and then our powers get out of control and we go into our little space and m..maybe go for Wanda’s milkes 👉🏼👈🏼 you don’t have too but if you can thank you

We're here baby

Little!Reader x Mama!Nat x Mommy!Wanda

Summary: everything in the request

Warnings: swearing, mention of blood, breastfeeding, death?

a/n: I'm getting back into writing so expect more fics

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You guys are currently facing a group of assassins from Bulgaria in their compound. You are in one of the many hallways fighting a man twice your size. Your currently trying to take him out with your dark green glowing power until he started speaking.

"Сега да/не, не помниш ли цялото забавление, което се забавляваш тук? Винаги вързани на една от онези метални маси с вериги или висящи от тавана със същите вериги? Защото със сигурност го правя, беше толкова жалко, ти крещиш за цял живот." (Now y/n don't you remember all the fun you had here? Always tied on one of those metal table with chains or hanging from the ceiling also with chains? Becuase I certainly do it was so pathetic, you screaming for life).

At that you started to freak out, getting flashbacks from the time you were with them against your will. You couldn't breathe right, mind fogging up and starting to slip into little space.

"y/n?" Nat asked through comms.

You started to sob and couldn't control your powers. Glowing green swirls coming out of your hands and more of the guards or assassins - doesn't matter, came running towards you. No one there you recognized and started to freak out more.

"y/n? Baby girl what's happening. Are you okay?" Wanda asked, concerned.

Wanda looked over to Nat who was next to her and they started to run towards you since your sobbing was getting more clear the closer they got.

Right before they got to you a blast of flowing green power came from the hallway, everyone falling down. Dead. Blood scattered all over. Quickly they ran faster to see you on the ground, leaning against the wall with your legs tucked into your chest, tears running down your face and entire body shaking.

"What's happening Nat?" Tony said through comms.

"Shut the fuck up" Nat whispered fast back back him through comms, him immediately listening not wanting to come to face with 'angry momma Nat' as he called it.

They made their way towards you and each of them sat on one side of you. "Hunny, you can open your eyes" Nat said softly and wiped the tears of your face.

Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at Nat and Wanda, them seeing the change in your eyes how your in little space right now.

"Mama, Mommy. Huwrt" you cried out and then saw all the dead bodies around you, starting to hyperventilate again.

"Let's leave and then we can go home and have a relaxing night" Wanda whispered into your ear, though Nat can hear her just fine.

You slowly nodded and started to stand up with them, clinging to your Mama's side, barely able to walk, with how much your body is still shaking from being remembered about your past.

Once all three of you were sat in the quinjet, it was very quiet with you inbetween Wanda and Nat, snuggled with a blanket. Tears were still streaming down your face. Nobody dared talking so they didn't send you into a meltdown.

The quinjet finally landed and Nat slowly lifted you up to her hip and carried you inside while Wanda walked beside. When you got to your guys' shared room, your Mama set you down on the bed and quickly got changed into a cotton grey t-shirt and matching shorts. And your Mommy also quickly changed into the same set, but in a deep blue. She also grabbed a soft green hoodie and a Mickey Mouse pull up from the dresser, placing them beside where you're laying down.

"Alright, let's get you changed out of this uncomfortable suit" she said comfortingly while stripping you out of it.

While she's changing you, you lifted your hands up and pulled a small section of your hair down. Playing with it by twirling it around your fingers.

Wanda finished and stepped away for a second to place your suit in the pile where her and Nat's are on the floor in the corner of the room to be dealt with tomorrow.

Nat came over from the bathroom and sat down beside you, helping you untangle the fingers caught in your hair.

"You comfy baby?" She asked once all three of you are laying under the covers in bed.

You nodded, sleepily but still wanted one thing. "Mommy, milk? Pease" you mumbled looking over at Wanda with puppy dog eyes.

"Now how could I say no to that adorable face" she smiled and pulled up her shirt, revealing her breasts.

You leaned against her and attached your mouth to her left nipple, suckling at a slower pace than usual but that's just because you're tuckered out from today. After a bit of time you fell asleep with your head pillowed on her now covered boob, since Nat carefully lifted your head not waking you up while Wanda pulled her shirt back down.

Before they followed and fell asleep, they leaned over carefully and kissed softly.

#fanfic #imagines #writing #cute #marvel #natasha!romanoff #natasha romanoff #mommy!wandaxlittle!reader #mama!nat #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wanda!maximoff #mommy wanda x little reader #mama nat x little reader x mommy wanda #little!reader #little reader #mcu imagine #scarlet witch #black widow

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negansworld · 2 years

Text

Play with me

Negan has been growing frustrated the past weeks. More than fucking usual after he got fired. Zapping through the TV he watches some old basketball game and only gets iffier as he frowns. Boooring, that shit is boring as fuck.

Not even the beer is fucking good and his girl is at work. His sweet little girl working her even cuter ass off to pay the bills. What a damn joke he is. He feels his ears turning warm from the embarrassment seeping through his body.

His mood is lifting up as they show a commercial about the newest gaming console. Some PlayStation including the game for fucking free. Shutting off the TV he grabs his car keys and off he drives, knowing damn well that his lady will be mad.

Oh fuck, she's pissed like really fucking pissed. She actually looks like she'd swallow her chin next as she cusses him out. All he can do is grin, because he knows how good she screws when she's in a mood. For now he's listening, grinning at her red apple cheeks and eyes on fucking fire.

"Babygirl." His voice is a dark purr. "C'mon daddy paid it from his fuckin' savings."

"That's not better, Negan. You're ir-fucking-responsible." She sighs.

Damn, he taught her so damn well. He's snickering.

Grabbing her hips he tugs her close while she pouts. Giving his chest a smack he just fucking ignores it as he leans down to rub his scruff against her cheek. Against her neck, because he knows how much she fucking likes it and how wet her pussy gets.

Still it's his turn to get pushed against the wall as she cups his crotch. "I think daddy has some apologizing to do."

"Fuck yea, he does." And down on his fucking knees he goes.

"You bunch of pussies, l'm just gettin' started." Negan is shouting and hollering in the mic, cussing and flipping off the TV.

"That's all you got? Did you just logged the fuck off?... yeah, go crying to your mama.

Give her tiddy a good ol' suck from uncle

Negan."

He's having a blast, occupied the basement like it's his kingdom. Snacks on the table, some cans of beer and soda, a clock so he wouldn't go to bed too fucking late.

It's 1:34. AM, not PM.

From the outside he hears shuffling and he prepares himself for his lady to throw a damn lasso at him and drag him to bed.

Laughing quietly at the image in his head he looks over to the door as she appears there.

And like always her sight takes his damn breath away.

"Daddy." Mhmm, he fucking likes when she calls him that. "Daddy, l'm lonely."

"Well, then c'mere."

Opening his arm she straddles his lap, arms wrapped around his neck. Her middle touches where its fucking best and she's clearly not wearing any panties. Pulling off the headset he throws it aside.

"Are you a lil slut tonight?" He whispers and she nods. "Do you want to keep daddy warm while he games?"

Again she nods and already goes to business as she pulls down his sweatpants.

By now he's hard, now twitching in his fist as she rubs him. She slides down, hugging him tightly in her wet vessel while they both moan.

Automatically his hips jerking up, his hand fisting her hair, kissing her deeply. Abusing her mouth she keeps swinging her hips down until he stops her with a harsh slap on her ass.

Instantly she stops, whining quietly as she goes back to sliding down completely on him. Closing his arms around her he starts the game again, now and then pressing a kiss to her cheek or shoulder.

"Y'know what? You aren't daddy's baby tonight, but his queen. I mean, look at ya sittin' on the damn throne." He whispers and feels her smile. Maybe that shit isn't too fucking bad, at least for now.

#negan #negan x reader #negan x y/n #negan x you #jeffrey dean morgan #negan smut

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jaehyunsbreadbasket · 2 years

Text

Kinktober '22 Day 18- Mark Lee

Prompt: Phone Sex

Word Count: 470

Synopsis: Mark is stressed out and all he wants to do is relax. With his girlfriend thousands of miles away, he'll have to settle for getting his needs over the phone.

Consists of: Sub!Mark, FemDom!Reader, Mama/Mommy kink, Phone sex, Masturbation (Mark), Mentions of Mark and reader being overworked, Mentions of exhibitionism, Brief mention of reader being creampied by Mark

"Feels so good, Mama," Mark moans out to me as I listen to the slick sound of his hand sliding over his cock again and again.

"I bet it does, Baby. Finally being able to relax after such a big day," It had been another concert day for Mark, which is often accompanied with interviews and practices. You'd think he'd be tired, he has to be. But instead of getting his well needed rest, here he is: jerking his cock for me over the phone.

"I miss you. Need you so bad. Wish you were here."

"I miss you too, Honey. I wanna be there too, Baby. Kiss you, run my hands along your pretty little body. God I wish I could see you, see the way you stroke yourself. I'm getting so wet just thinking about you." Mark had dropped his phone and broke his camera recently and hasn't had the time to get it repaired with all his busy schedules. Stopping me from being able to watch him fall apart. Yet if I could see him, the work on my desk that I've brought home would be severely neglected.

"Shit, Mommy. Play with yourself too, please. Play with me," Mark begs, I can hear how he speeds up his thrusts.

"I can't right now, Baby. I'm working. Just here to listen; keep going."

"You like it yeah? Touching yourself for me, being all desperate over the phone? You're so sexy when you get like this." Mark whines on the other end of the line. I can hear his bed begin to squeak and his grunts get harder, I wonder if the other people in the hotel can hear him through the walls. If the members now know what he's snuck away to do.

“‘Like it so much, Mama. I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

"Go ahead, Baby. But I need you to be loud for me, okay? I want the whole hotel to know how needy you are. ‘Everyone to know how slutty you can be.”

"Shit! You’re so fucking hot, Mommy! Oh, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Wish you were here to take it, wish I was nutting inside of you. Oh my fucking god!” Mark yelps as I hear the sound on his end getting wetter and wetter.

And then all of a sudden...silence. A moment later heavy breaths can be heard, "Mama, I made a mess. I came all over myself." Mark slurs his words, immediately sounding drowsy.

"Well you better go clean up then, Baby. Then you're gonna go to bed yeah? You don't rest enough."

"Yeah, I guess I probably should. I'll call you tomorrow okay? Good luck with your work. You don't stay up too long either little Ms. workaholic." Mark laughs at his own joke, "I love you."

"And I love you. Goodnight, Baby."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

My Kinktober 2022 Masterlist 🎃

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corrodedcoughin · 2 years

Text

some eddie and wayne hc for those in need

When he was really young Eddie made potions in a tin outside using leaves and rainwater and whatever he could get his hands on. Rocks? Throw them in, coffee granules? In the potion! Pepto bismol Wayne left lying out one morning? Stick it in there! Ediie tried to take little bottles of it everywhere, convinced it would offer him 'protection'. Wayne caught him trying to drink it once. He kept a closer eye on the kid since then

Before moving to Hawkins Eddie and Wayne used to live with Eddie's Nana. They both absolutely adored that woman. She and Wayne instilled that 'Munsons have manners Eddie!' so even now Eddie remembers his 'please and thank yous', his 'sir and ma’ams' even when painfully sarcastic and in the face of authority

Both Eddie's grandmothers were called nana Eddie started calling his favourite nene which eventually morphed into 'nees'. She laughed when he called her 'nee' for the first time 'what?! knee? i don't even get 2? At my age I need all the knees I can get!'

When they all lived together eddie used to put on ‘shows’ of whatever he was obsessed with at the moment. This quickly turned into a full dramatic retelling of LOTR that required extensive audience participation. He’d make it as ‘immersive’ as possible chasing Wayne and Nees around the garden to show them how terrifying the orcs really were

Nees, Wayne and Eddie all play guitar. Nees taught Wayne but they both taught Eddie. They all used to play together, each with their own acoustic, before Nees arthritis got too painful. Wayne still plays from time to time, when he's missing her and Eddie will listen through the walls.

They moved when Nees died. Couldn’t face being in the same place without her, her house was an extension of her and being there without her swears worthy of a sailor or her perfume and tabacco smell was too painful.

Wayne and Nees introduced Eddie to music. She might have been older but loved hearing whatever new record Wayne brought home. So now when Eddie hears Creedance clearwater revival, the animals, the supremes, crosby stills nahs and young or the mamas and papas he has to take a seat and let the emotions run wild. On her brithday Eddie and Wayne play her favourites and drink some gin in her memory.

Wayne doesn't know how he'd be alive without Eddie. That boy saved him, gave him a focus during the hardest parts of his life. They clung to each other when it hurt too much for words and he just hopes he can do right by him and give him the love he deserves.

They don't have a lot of money but he likes to get things for Eddie where he can, maybe its a nice lighter so Eddie doesn't have to rely on matches, maybe a new diary when he notices Eddie coming to the end of his current one. They aren't big gestures but they say 'i'm looking out for you kid'

Eddie day dreams a lot, nobody ever really asks what he's thinking about. Asuming it'll be dragons and guitars and epic high fantasy stories. Adn yes, some of the times they are right but sometimes Eddie just sits and remembers his time with his Uncle and his Nees and it helps to level his emotions, reminds himself of Wayne and what they've been through and lets his mind finally relax

#stranger things #eddie munson #wayne munson #nees munson #yes she’s getting her own tag becasur I have so many thoughts about her #Eddie tells Steve stories about nees when he finally accepts that he can trust him #Wayne hears him talk about her and feels her legacy live on. he pats Eddie on the shoulder and says ‘she’d have loved your boy kid’

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vibratingskull · 7 months

Note

Idk if I’m accidentally spoiling but my mind has wandered to what the Great mothers were bringing out could be coffins. The remains and then Thrawn is bringing them back to life.

Could you do Dad Thrawn platonic x reader child( daughter). Their mother is in a coffin half covered in gold. That is the only one he won’t let the Great mothers touch. How would the kid grow up on that type of a planet/ environment. (Can totally picture them having a puppy howler).

There you go sweetheart

Thrawn&Daughter!reader

You’re playing with your ball against the wall of the dojo of your papa when you hear something. Like a chant. You stop your movements and listen. It’s… Your papa’s name? You pass your head through the door. Nobody’s here. Where is everyone?

Torr, your howler yaps as you start to move away from. Your papa offered him to you when you were 5 to protect you. He was just a young puppy back then but now he’s a head taller than you and you can ride him no problem. You’re the only one he tolerates to be mounted by even. He grabs you by the shirt and pulls you back inside where it’s safe.

“It’s okay Torr, I just want to see what’s happening.” You grip his hair to hoist yourself and ride him. You trot in the corridors of the Chimaera without any saddle, you don’t need it, nobody crosses your path. You frown. Usually you should have seen someone by now, but the Chimaera seems empty of any soul.

You finally reach the hangar and understand : everyone is here, in full armor and weapons. You notice your papa in the center, he’s talking with the Great Mothers.

You don’t like them.

They scare you.

Torr doesn't like them either, he keeps growling at them.

They’re always doing something weird that you never understand, and your papa never explains to you what they do together, because you’re too young. But you’re 7! You’re old now, adults should talk to you, you pout. Your papa only told you that he keeps them around until he’s finally able to bring everyone home.

But this is home!

You never knew anything else than the Chimaera and Peridea, why would you want to go anywhere else? But papa says he wants to go back, that he has important duties to fulfill, he says mama would have wanted you to go back home with him. You don’t know, you never met her, you don’t know what she would have wanted…

Torr growls.

There are other people with them you notice.

You don’t know them.

You press yourself against the wall more and peek to look at them. A woman is bowing to your papa with a satisfied smile, and a man and a young woman with weird clothes. You wince, you can’t hear a thing of what they say. You lean forward like that would change a thing, and suddenly the three Great mothers turn their heads towards you like they knew you’re here. You yelp in surprise and hide behind the wall. Something tells you your papa doesn’t want you here, with them.

Torr growls louder, you see his hair bristle. He really, really doesn’t like them.

“It’s okay Torr.” you caress his head, “it’s okay. Let’s go see mom.” you look one last time at the hangar before heading towards your mother’s chamber.

------------------------------

It is a large room, dimly lit, each sound resonates and it’s cold. Your mama’s coffin takes the center’s stage on a pedestal, it’s different from all the other coffins you usually saw everyday. This one is golden and made of real stone, the Great Mothers have the absolute interdiction to enter this room, your papa explicitly forbidden it. When one of them said something about needing each and every soul available for a plan your papa changed expression.

It terrifies you to this day.

You never saw him this angry and you were so scared you cried right here and there. For some reason you thought he was angry after you. Because your mama died soon after giving you birth. You thought he held you responsible.

But he kneeled down and hugged you tight, speaking to you calmly and comfortingly. He was not even mad you slipped out of bed to find him.

The only other times you saw him this made was when another Great Mother tried to talk to you alone, about a thing called the Force. She said you will have a promising future if you listen to them. You didn’t respond, feeling an uneasy sensation in your stomach, instead you ran to your father as quickly as your little legs could carry you and told him. His face hardened instantly and his gaze became murderous.

“You did well to warn me, seatisv.” He simply said, caressing your cheek “I will have a discussion with the Great Mothers, do not worry. Go find Enoch and stay with him until I return.”

You didn’t witness the discussion but visibly the Mothers lost their right to roam around the Chimaera, your papa let them at the stone citadel and chose to travel to meet them instead of keeping them around.

It didn’t please his troops, the last living soldier, they argued it was a waste of fuel and time and they could use the dead soldiers to create chaos.

“Is it my fault they are mad? Are… are they gonna kill us?” you asked with a little voice as your father came tuck you in bed.

“No, seatisv.” he pushed a strand of hair out of your face “They need my help as much as I need their magic, they would not dare do anything against us. You can sleep soundly.”

“And Enoch? He has trouble containing the others.” That, it didn’t escape you. That’s how bad it is. Your father remains silent with a sad smile. Sometimes you wonder if he would be able to keep control over his men…

“Everything will be alright, I am working with Enoch to bring us back as swiftly as possible. It should appease our troops.”

He kissed you goodnight and left you in the dark, the head full of questions. The only thing you knew with absolute certainty is that your papa did this to protect you. He always does. Keep the baddies and monsters away from you twice as hard because your mama can’t do it anymore. He sweared it to her on her deathbed, Enoch told you, apparently you’re not an only child by choice but because the Maker didn’t wanted it in any other way so your papa has to protect the only baby they could ever have. That’s why he calls you “seatisv”, because you’re his rainbow baby. He will protect you until his last breath.

“Hi, mom!” you exclaim climbing the coffin. “We got visits today!”

You sit down and cross your legs on the cold stone, placing yourself in front of the sculpted face of your mother to speak to her. Torr remains on the floor, laying down to take a nap.

“I think it’s the people papa expected to meet. The ones the Mothers told him about. I think that means we’re gonna go home? Papa told me he absolutely wanted me to see your planet, I hope pop and nanna are still alive, I would like to meet them.”

You remain here, recounting your day and your thoughts to your mother like you do everyday. You know she’s dead, but sometimes you could swear she’s listening and trying to respond to you. It is a bit hard to describe, but you feel like a warm presence wrapping itself around you and you feel at peace, like someone is hugging you. It makes you feel light and fluffy. You like coming here, especially knowing that the Great Mothers can’t. Your mother can sleep in peace.

“I know you would be here, seatisv.” your father calls from the other side of the room.

You turn towards him, surprised, and open your arms for him to come hug you. He crosses the room with long strides and circles his arms around you with a smile. Torr jumps around, rubbing himself against the legs of your papa.

“I love you, papa.” you say, squeezing him.

“I love you more.” he responds.

He parts with you and sits next to you, an arm around your shoulders.

“Fate is on its way, seatisv. Soon we will be home.” he tells you.

“Thanks to the new people?” you can’t help but ask “Are those the ones the Mothers told you about?”

“So you did come, you little mouse. I suspected it.” he chuckles, “You are right, this is thanks to them.”

You lean against him with a sigh, feeling his warmth around you.

“Seatisv.” he says imperatively, you raise your gaze to meet his “I do not want you near any of them. Do not trust them, I will get rid of them all soon enough.”

“Even the Great Mothers?”

“Especially the Great Mothers.”

You lower your gaze, obediently.

“Alright, dad.”

“Good.” he squeezes you and lowers his tone like he would tell a secret “I do it for you and your mother.”

“I know, dad.” you squeeze him back. “I know…”

You let a moment pass, with a question burning your lips.

“Papa? Why… Why do you never let them resurrect mom?”

He sighs like he is exhausted.

“Because they do not resurrect the dead, they reanimate them.”

You frown.

“What’s the difference?”

“Free will, seatisv. When they resurrect someone they become a puppet in their hands, obedient to any orders and loyal to a fault. It is not the same person as when they lived, all personality and free will disappeared, forcing them to obedience.”

“Like… a slave?”

“Exactly like a slave. I would never subject your mother to such a thing.”

You slowly nod.

“Alright. It’s just… I was hoping to meet her in some way one day.” you whimper.

“I know, seatisv. I know you miss her, but the most respectful thing we can do for her is let her sleep for the rest of eternity.”

“Okay…”

He kisses your forehead and stands up, extending his hand to you.

“Come. It is soon time for you to eat and sleep.”

You pout, crossing your arms

“I’m 7! I can stay awake!”

He shakes his head with a grin.

“No, seatisv. You can not. Come, I will make your favorite.”

“You won’t burn it this time?”

“Promise.”

You take the hand of your papa, the discussion behind you.

@Bluechiss, @thrawnalani, @justanothersadperson93,

@al-astakbar

#thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth’raw’nuruodo #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn x reader #fanfic #vibratingskull

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