#she's had more than enough time to think about the journey she has decided to take

[born-to-lose]

I love being the always single person in my family, mad respect to my sister for constantly dating guys for the last 8 years, I would have shot myself

[hedgehog-moss]

Last time I went to the village to buy bread I saw a woman in the street who was dressed like a 19th-century peasant, complete with a thick old-timey accent with dialect words no one uses anymore—she was telling a little group of people to follow her so of course I had to drop everything and follow her too.

And it turned out she was a theatre actress who has read a lot of local archives in libraries and town halls, and offered her services to organise guided tours of various villages to tell people about local history in a fun way, by playing characters who lived here in the Middle Ages, the 19th century, or WWII. It's such a cool idea! I talked to her for a bit after the visit and she said she wasn't sure it'd work / attract enough people, but she had groups of tourists + local families show up for the visit every week, in every village where she did this, so she think she'll be hired again next summer.

When I joined their group she was talking about WWII, and how my & other nearby villages were known by the Nazis and Vichy as a hotbed of terrorists, with some Gestapo officers killed in bomb attacks. (In retaliation the Nazis eventually rounded up 100+ locals and deported them to camps, as well as shooting a few.) I was mostly familiar with WWII anecdotes from the North-East, where my grandparents lived during the war, and I found it funny how different they sounded—my grandfather made Resistance activities sound well-planned and careful (espionage, sabotage, underground presses, infiltrating railway services etc) while oral histories around here make them sound a lot more spontaneous and—handcrafted? like "Emile brought what we needed for the bomb in his wheelbarrow hidden under a layer of straw and we exploded 2 Nazis."

We then went to visit the former girls' school, and I learnt a lot about my country's history of education for girls! Also it was really sweet because there was an old lady in our group who had attended this school as a child and had lots of school memories to share. Most of them were very wholesome, until eventually our tour guide went "Surely you also have some School Mischief to tell us about" and the old woman at first was like no no no no, I was a good girl. And then she conceded that when she had to sort lentils for the nuns' dinner and she resented one of them for berating her in class, she'd do a shit job on purpose and leave some little stones in the lentils.

Then our last step was the fairground where the town fair was (and is still) held, and our tour guide told us little 19th-century anecdotes (in-character, more like acting them out) that she'd found in old postcards and letters in the archives—how the town fair was where you'd go for your dentist appointment (i.e. to have your bad teeth pulled with pliers with no pain medicine) and to get any object repaired, like damaged pans or clogs; how there were dancing bears and performing monkeys; how one year the merchant who sold linen for women's trousseaus had her linen display trampled "by 300 cows" (might have been an exaggeration) and she hit the cow herder and it started a massive brawl.

My favourite anecdote was how back in the 1800s the local innkeeper was frustrated by the fact that the nearest village is just 10km away, and people who came to the fair often decided to go spend the night there so their journey back the next day would be less long, and so he started to tell them about the beast that lives under the bridge between the two villages. Travellers say horses go mad when they see it and just jump into the water. Some say the beast has dug up corpses from the cemetery because it likes human flesh, though of course it prefers it fresh. I'm now convinced half of local legends were single-handedly created by business savvy innkeepers determined to get more customers than the rival inn 10km away.

I'm sad I only learnt about these visits at the end of summer when they're coming to an end, but I'll definitely follow this woman around again if she returns with more stories next year!

[kyseya]

Ancient Mummy

Imagine working as an archaeologist for a museum. However things hasn’t been going so well lately and there are hardly any visitors during opening hours. Sadly, you’ll be forced to close multiple exhibitions and if conditions are not met, the entire museum might have to shut down.

But by some miracle, a new tomb has been discovered in Egypt; undisturbed, unexplored and completely untouched by humans for centuries. It’s said to be the grave of an ancient king- a pharaoh- who was betrayed and murdered by his own cousin.

It’s the perfect opportunity! Maybe you’ll find something that can bring back interest and by extension, save the museum.

You go along with a few other colleagues to the site in Egypt. The journey was a bit tough but it was a hindered percent worth it. With avid curiosity you explore alone and with the others, the different things to find inside the tomb; artifacts and additional discoveries. It’s all very interesting. Wanting to save the best for last, you finally get an in-person look at the grave itself- the sarcophagus.

You have already heard the main tale of the pharaoh within, so you are a little surprised that there is more to the story than you previously believed.

Over the entire stone coffin were multiple hieroglyphs, each one helping and becoming a story together. Your collegue read some inscriptions and told you a basic summary of what it’s about.

Centuries ago there was a king. He had a wife whom he adored more than anything. She was provided with riches, glory and honour. There was nothing he wouldn’t accomplish for her. The people saw the care he held for his wife and therefore both respected and feared her as well, since any ounce of rudeness might end up with their heads spiked on a pole. It was a punishment fitting for those who dare disrespect his queen.

Unfortunately tragedy struck- a disease, more specifically. It took the lives of many and left whole villages empty. That hardly mattered to the pharaoh though, all his focus went to his ill wife; she, too, had been snatched by death. Up until the moment of her demise the pharaoh spent all day and all night at her side, attentively worrying about her needs. When she was gone he was ruined. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t even have the energy to clean himself. What was the point? His beloved was gone so there wasn’t really anything left for him.

It was after this that everything took a turn. It appeared that the king had enough with laying around and decided to do something. There were records of him behaving strangely- even by ancient standards- and drabbling in dark magic. He was later overthrown by his brother, who ordered him to be buried alive. It was quite the terrifying penalty go give one’s sibling. The brother didn’t want the darkness to spread out into the world from the old pharaoh, so he locked him inside the sarcophagus and sealed him far away.

What a tragic story, you thought. Well it was back in the old times and a lot of things were practiced then that aren’t okay in modern day. You suppose it wasn’t the most horrible incident that have happened.

It hadn’t been long since your colleague told you the backstory of the tomb and its inhibitor, but now the others wants to get to the good part and open up the stone coffin. You don’t think it’s the best idea in the world- of course something like this needs to be examined closely and so on, but there is something special about the tomb.

Ever since you’ve arrived, you have had a strange feeling following you around. It’s hard to explain. You feel almost drawn to the sarcophagus or perhaps it’s because it feels as if it is looking back at you. You tried ignoring it, however, the feeling came back stronger than ever the moment the others began preparing to open it up.

You should have told them of your concerns. If you did, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The first few seconds after opening it everything was fine. All was as it should be; people flocking around to see the discovery and fawn over it while being mindful of its fragility. Then it changed. Your colleague who had been the closest had suddenly been strangled by the thin, dirty arm belonging to none other than the ancient corpse that previously had been resting in death. Everyone was silent as her face turned blue from the lack of oxygen. It was only after she fell to the floor dead that people began panicking. It was hard to process what had just happened, after all.

There was chaos.

Folk ran around like chickens fleeing from a fox that’d managed to get inside the coop. In a way, that was exactly what was going on, though. You had watched as the mummified corpse sat right up and climbed its way out of the cold coffin. It stumbled on its bony legs and quickly found a cornered man and approached him. He screamed when the mummy grabbed ahold of his face and brought it before its own. The creature started sucking the life out of the man- literally.

The man who had previously been a healthy and active person was now shrivelled up like a raisin. His face was dry and wrinkled. He died soon afterwards, only a soft wheeze leaving his lips as he passed.

The opposite seemed to happen to the former-corpse, though. It attacked more and more people and for every kill, it appeared to revert to its original state- a man, pharaoh of an ancient kingdom. The flesh grew back and filled up in the right places and he seemed human again.

How can that be? He had been dead for centuries. Although, just about everything was pretty fucked up in this moment, so his make-over is the least important factor.

You backed into a corner. Your eyes followed the mummy’s every move, it was impossible to look away. There was hardly anyone left apart from you. The one person that was still there was getting attacked by the monster and it wasn’t long until they were reduced to nothing.

Now it was just you and the creature, and it appeared it knew that too.

It turned to look at you. The mummy had now completely reverted back into a man and he was nothing short of breathtaking(and very naked, but you tried not to think about it). It pained to to admit it but it was the truth. He was easily the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on. His long, dark hair flowed when he stalked towards you. Despite his outer beauty, you couldn’t forget what you’d just witnessed him do.

Trembling, you pressed yourself against the wall. “Stay away.” you weakly mumbled.

‘This is it. My time is over.’

You closed your eyes in fear and braced yourself for the pain that would undoubtedly come; only it didn’t. Instead of death, a hand grazed your cheek. It was a light touch, one reserved for something valuable and fragile.

A raspy voice talked, “…My love..it is you..”

You had no idea what he said, it sounded like an ancient language. You had studied hieroglyphs but did not know anything about what speech might’ve sounded like. You decided to be brave and slightly opened your eyes.

The mummy was staring at you, but there was no malice or hatred in his expression. In fact, the only emotion you could find on his face was amazement, shock and….love? No, that can’t be. This is not some ‘lovers reunited’ situation.

“How can this be? Death took you and left me all alone- not that I hold you accountable, of course. I know you would never seek to hurt me.” the mummy kept muttering to himself. “Perhaps….the magic worked after all?”

His face brightened and he smiled gently at you. Whilst he happily went on about something, you became more confused than earlier. What the hell was going on? He committed multiple murders in one swoop and now, suddenly, he is acting like you’re friends talking about your day. He isn’t even human! Or at least not anymore, not really.

You voiced this opinion weakly, “Ummm, could you let me go?” You tried pulling away from his touch, uncomfortable at his caresses.

His brows furrowed at your reaction. From the look of it, he didn’t understand you any better than you did him. He focused at the subtle way you attempted to peel his hand off your arm. You let out a yelp when his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you into his embrace.

He leaned down and whispered into your ear, petting your hair at the same time. “Wife, why do you seem unhappy at my presence? I do not understand. Are you not joyous at our reunion? I love you so, I cannot comprehend any reason why you would not wish to see me.”

Even if you didn’t know what he was saying, you could hear the sadness in his voice. The pain and desperation. No! You couldn’t feel sad for him. He had murdured multiple of your colleagues, he’s evil! Although, why hasn’t he killed you yet? It’s very strange indeed.

The mummy continued, “I can sense things are not as they used to be. Things are different now. Although I do not know the extent of it. However I am most certain of one thing; I have miraculously been reunited with my love and I do not plan on letting you fall through my grasp again.”

He held you in an almost suffocating hug.

“I shall make you my queen once more.”

[ldrfanatic]

this happens once every few lifetimes

mattheo riddle x reader

synopsis - reader transfers to hogwarts from ilvermorny. she and mattheo fall in love with each other at first sight.

warnings - none, i think?

listened to while writing - the alchemy by taylor swift

i have a clara bow theo one in the works right now that i'm excited to drop at some point. ngl this gif of benjamin in deadly class inspired this idea A LOT.

part two?

slytherin boys works

you waited with baited breath outside of the great hall.

any moment now the doors would swing open and albus dumbledore, who you knew only through legend, would announce your transfer to hogwarts.

it was terrifying honestly. leaving ilvermorny was indescribably difficult. but when your father got a job opportunity at the british ministry of magic, it was decided. already you were feeling overwhelmed. you'd done your research but hogwarts was much larger than ilvermorny. it was much older as well, and thus had gained a reputation over a thousand years of producing some of the greatest witches and wizards the world has ever seen.

the large magnificent doors opened and every pair of eyes was on you.

you walked forward with sweaty palms, subtly attempting to dry them on your plain, black hogwarts robes. another change. the wardrobe was much more strict here than back in america. and where every student at ilvermorny wore the same blue and gold, students at hogwarts wore colors representative of their house.

finally, you reached the end of the walkway and stood face to face with a dusty and rather ancient looking hat. to your light surprise, it spoke. a woman whom you'd met briefly beforehand, professor mcgonnagall, picked up the hat gently and motioned for you to sit on the stool.

it was time to be sorted into one of hogwarts four houses. you'd been in wampus, the house of the warrior, at ilvermorny, and despite hours of research, you couldn't distinguish what the hogwarts equivalent would be. all four houses seemed to be good choices but there was one in particular that stood out to you.

no shorter or longer than exactly fifteen seconds after the sorting hat touched your head, a declaration was made.

"slytherin!"

an older student in green robes gestured you over to the table on the far right. not wanting to sit at the very front and continue to be gawked at, you briskly walked a little further down and took a seat at the middle of the table.

once you'd taken your seat, dumbledore began to explain that hogwarts would be hosting the triwizard tournament this year. after a flashy introduction from beauxbatons and durmstrang, you effectively decided that you were not the most interesting shiny new toy at hogwarts this year and silently thanked the universe for this turn of events.

at last, it was announced that you could eat and the tables filled with food. all around you students' plates began magically creating complex dishes. there were even some dinners that held food that you were sure you couldn't see anywhere on the table.

frustrated, you stared down at your empty plate. it was a long journey to hogwarts. you were hungry and quite frankly tired of things being so different. if one more complicated situation made its appearance at this school, you were undoubtedly going to lose it.

"just think about a food you really want to eat. it can be anything."

a boy next to you with brown hair and bright blue eyes leaned over. a thick italian accent levied on his deep voice.

you closed your eyes and thought about a delicious juicy cheeseburger with golden-crisp french fries. sure enough, when you opened your eyes, your plate had filled with food.

absolutely giddy with glee, you turned to thank the mystery man.

"no problem. i'm theodore nott. this is draco malfoy next to me."

the platinum blonde boy didn't even look up to acknowledge your existence. theodore, seemingly sensing your mild displeasure, spoke up.

"don't mind him. welcome to slytherin house. riddle, say hello to our newest recruit."

the dark haired boy directly across from you who you assumed was 'riddle' did in fact look over from his conversation with a boy with a chestnut colored complexion. yet, when your eyes found his, he didn't say hello.

he didn't say anything actually. he just sort of stared. as you held eye contact, it was like lightning running through your veins and sizzling at your fingertips.

for a moment, you wondered if he'd ever seen a person before.

then, as if he'd snapped out of a daze, a gentle smile played at his lips. dark curls fell over his brown eyes that seemed to sparkle the longer you looked at them.

his large hand crept over the table until it was outstretched towards you with a kind smile.

"mattheo."

you shook his hand with a shy smile. mattheo was currently looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered. in fact, your little interaction had gone on so long that theodore and the boy mattheo had been speaking with had both strucken up conversation with other students at the table.

"y/n."

mattheo eyed your appearance. his gaze flickered across your face, then to your hair, and all over the parts of your body he could see.

"sorry if this is a little awkward, but i can't remember the last time i was this captivated by someone." mattheo finally released your hand and you had to stop yourself from begging him not to.

"welcome to slytherin house. you're in the snake's nest now, beautiful."

---

7.8.2024

[linderosse]

Guys.

Super long post; read at your own peril (tl;dr at the end).

But I just had a brilliant possible idea about where Echo (the new Zelda from Echoes of Wisdom) fits in the Wisdomverse, so I’m documenting it in case I decide to use it.

See, merging Echo into Fable would be cool. They seem very similar already (relevant post), and it’s a good option.

Yet there are a few small problems with this. I can get around them, but they’re still something to consider.

Fable’s already in four separate games (Most Zeldas get one game or less). Adding EoW makes a fifth.

Fable is already quite powerful amongst the Zeldas. Adding EoW makes her a bit OP. I’ll have to balance that carefully.

Fable has a planned story arc in the Wisdomverse. This might conflict with EoW (for example, this is why LU decided against adding TotK to Wild)

So while I still think it could be cool to merge Fable and Echo, I’m also looking for other possibilities. I don’t want to introduce a new Zelda between Fable and Dawn unless I have to.

And then I realized:

There is already a canon Zelda between Fable and Dawn.

I’ve literally already introduced her.

I have plans for her that could totally work with what we see in Echoes of Wisdom.

She’s vastly underpowered and could use the abilities from EoW very well

I could totally see myself writing her personality into EoW Zelda— it’s a different take than how I’ve depicted Echo before, but it would work equally well imo

And she’s also the Zelda with the least canon information; the one we know the least about overall— especially since we never meet her in her own time.

Guys, if Fable doesn’t work out, I think it might be awesome to merge Echo with Aurora— Hyrule’s second Zelda.

Imagine this:

Aurora woke up centuries in the future, after the Great Decline. She’s trapped in a vastly different world with Dawn and Hyrule as her only solace. She loves them, but she’s not from here; and she can’t shake the dread that she’s left everything behind: her friends, her realm, her brother, who she still cares about despite everything he did to her— and also, of course, her Link, who she loves, and went on an entire adventure to save.

When she was Echo, she was a hero. But as Aurora, she’s an echo of the past; a mournful ghost of a bygone age

Tl;dr: What if Echoes of Wisdom is the era Aurora came from— and where she desperately longs to return?

Masterpost

(More thoughts on the timeline under the cut.)

So— Echoes of Wisdom seems (so far) to take place around the time of Legend’s era, with enough ambiguity that it could be either before or after Legend’s era of ALttP/Oracles/ALBW/TH.

Currently leaning towards “EoW before Legend” considering the similarities to OoT, but I could very well go with “EoW after Legend,” which would be necessary for the Aurora merge. The Oracle games, after all, have a lot of similarities with OoT in terms of races and characters present (Zoras, the Deku Tree, Zelda’s design, etc), and they come after ALttP, which doesn’t have quite as many. Same thing with FSA, which is canonically after Twilight Princess but obviously resembles Four Swords more, and both Wisdomverse and LU have shifted the timeline to match. So there is precedent for similarities to skip a generation or two, even in canon.

I also doubt EoW is going to include a Prince of Hyrule (the one character we know of from Aurora’s backstory). This is fine, because I’m confident I can come up with a reason the Prince was away during the events of EoW. Perhaps during the events of EoW, the Prince left on a journey of his own and first encountered the Wizard that leads to Aurora’s downfall.

Anyways, these are just tentative plans. We’ll see what happens when the game comes out!

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[helenofsparta2]

Percy, Nico, and Jason should have fallen into Tartarus together, while Annabeth should have remained with the rest of the Seven in House of Hades. Please hear me out.

1.

For one, this way Tartarus would have been much more intimidating. At least in my opinion, it has pretty much lost this aspect, especially after Sun and Star. Tartarus is the prison of the titans, a place so scary and so dangerous, that only the best of the best can make it through. Homer described it as being as far beneath Hades as heaven is above earth.  Overcoming it should be the ultimate challenge.

Yes, Annabeth is smart, incredibly so, but, I feel like, because Rick wanted her to be useful in Tartarus, he used a lot of cheap tricks in her POVs to get her and Percy over obstacles, which seem a bit too simple to really work against beings like Nyx. This took the heaviness away from them being down there and felt at times even anticlimactic. Don’t get me wrong, again, because I know this is a sensitive subject, Annabeth is smart, has a strong resolve and is great at hand to hand combat, but that’s it. And, in my opinion, that should not be enough to overcome Tartarus. If it would have taken a child of each of the big three working together to only barely make it out, it would have definitely reinforced that status, and also the gods’ belief that such children can become too powerful.

2.

Secondly, Percy not letting go of Nico’s hand, would have done wonders for the development of their relationship and for each character’s individual arc.

Imagine, Nico dangling from the edge, instead of Annabeth. Nico, who had only days prior pretended like he didn’t know Percy, who is so full of self-hatred, he thinks the entirety of camp half-blood hates him, who is already weakened by being imprisoned in the jar, and who is scared out of his mind by the idea of being alone in Tartarus again.

Imagine Nico staring up at Percy, clasping his hand, while Percy looks up at Annabeth, the love of his life, whom he had been separated from for months. Imagine Nico being convinced, that Percy is going to let Nico fall down to stay by her side.

But Percy refuses to let go.

He refuses to let go, even after Nico tells him he should do it, and decides instead to fall together with him into the worst place on earth, just so Nico doesn’t have to endure it alone again. It would have further reinforced Percy’s self-inflicted role as Nico’s protector which he already had in the original five books and his fatal flaw of loyalty. To Nico, it would have given him a worse inner conflict about having a crush on him, which could have been revolved while they were travelling together.  The confession scene would have been much more impactful and healthier, if it would have come from Nico himself, and if he and Percy would have had a more in depth talk about it.

And if Jason would have flown after them in a moment of desperation, it would have reinforced the sense of loyalty and protectiveness that he had already shown when he had saved Piper at the grand canyon. The scene with Polybotes could have also taken place in Tartarus instead, and him and Percy working together, and putting all of their differences aside would have been a much more interesting dynamic than the stupid, out of character, rivalry bit they’ve got going on in Mark of Athena.

And, to be honest, just having Nico, Percy and Jason go all out, would probably be one of the coolest scenes in the entire Riordan verse.  

3.

All the while, Annabeth could have really cemented her role as a leader. I love her character, but to say that she has more leadership capabilities than Percy is laughable to me after reading the original five Percy Jackson books. These books are, after all, about Percy’s hero’s journey from an inexperienced kid to a smart, powerful and wise hero and the leader of camp half blood.  Annabeth, in comparison, shows relatively little of that. (Obviously this makes sense, considering that the books are from Percy’s POV and revolve around him, but the complete switch-up to saying that Annabeth is the natural choice as leader of the seven just felt a bit out of the blue to me in Mark of Athena)

Her leading the rest, in a moment of such a tragedy and remaining strong would have really reinforced the strong resolve that she had already shown in holding the sky in titan’s curse and in remaining steadfast despite all the horrible things that happened to her with her father’s rejection and luke’s betrayal. Annabeth’s relationship to Piper, Leo, Hazel and Frank, which is painfully underdeveloped in the books, could have also been given some much needed attention. Like, I can’t remember a single scene where she and Hazel, or she and Leo really talk to one another, which is a shame, because they could have had really interesting dynamics with one another.

It also would have also been a powerful statement about Percy’s and Annabeth’s relationship, if they, while separated, still believed in each other and trusted that the other person would get the job done.

Without powerhouses like Jason and Percy on board of the Argo II, Hazel and Frank could have really shone as individual fighters. Hazel is probably the second, or third most powerful demigod in the entire franchise, but barely gets any attention, and for a guy, who is apparently so powerful his life had to be tied to a stick, Frank seems, outside of one or two scenes, also pretty underwhelming.  

Without Jason, Piper’s and Leo’s friendship could have also gotten some more attention, and generally the reunion scene at the end of House of Hades could have been much more impactful with these character dynamics. I mean, Hazel, and Nico being reunited, Jason, leo and Piper, and Percy and Annabeth, and Percy, Hazel and Frank.

One of the biggest problems, I have with Heroes of Olympus is the extreme focus on romantic relationships. Having some couples be separated from each other like this, would have also solved this and given the only couple still together, Frank and Hazel, more room to develop.

[absurdthirst]

Do you think you could do one with the Pedro boys who are a/b/o and who have a omega reader in heat but she doesn't want to spend it with them but just be alone? If not that's totally cool and I love your writing:)

When You're In Heat & Want Nothing To Do With Him:

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

**Female Reader

Javier Peña: Pouty for sure. He had even told Steve he was taking off work, dreaming of having you on his cock the entire time. Now his ass is traveling back to Medellín with Murphy in the passenger seat. Deciding that getting out of town was the best option.

Ezra: Now that's just not going to work for him, little bird. The aphrodisiac that your body produces calls to him like a siren. Beckoning him to take what your very nature wishes to give him. In that tent, there's no privacy. While Ezra might not lay a hand on you, he will not shut up about what he would do if you would give him permission.

The Mandalorian: Takes the kid, engages the ground security protocols on the Razor Crest and leaves. He will be back in 3-5 business days, with multiple bounties to throw into carbonite and then takes off for the next world on his parsec tour. He doesn't even seem mad about it, it just is what it is.

Pero Tovar: He still expects you to ride your horse. If you aren't needing to be holed up in a nest with his body wedged between your thighs, then you must be moving. He cannot lose more time on this journey to the East and you are attracting more alphas that he will just have to kill.

Frankie Morales: Confused. Wondering if everything that has happened has made you think that he's no longer your alpha or maybe not the alpha you want. He wants to talk to you about it, but he knows that you are vulnerable right now, so he packs up the kids and they all go stay at Uncle Benny's for a few days so you can be alone like you want.

Marcus Pike: He's disappointed. He had everything planned. He was going to make sure that your every need was met and you were in as little pain as possible as you worked through you heat. Instead of being able to do it in person, he decides that it might be best to sleep at the office until it passes so he doesn't overstep. However, he has meals delivered to you and your favorite ones at that.

Max Phillips: Tilts his head at you and gives you that fake pouty look. The one that says he doesn't believe you for a second. You don't want orgasm after orgasm? That's strange, and people said he's the one without a beating heart.

Dave York: Angry. He is not happy that you want nothing to do with him. He needs to take care of you and you are denying him that. In a huff, he takes on a target and takes his aggression out on them. It's a little more messy than his normal jobs.

Oberyn Martell: Finds it fascinating. You are a mystery. An omega who doesn't wish to be cared for by an alpha. He sighs, thinking that it's a pity, it would have been fun, but he leaves you in peace. He will spent the time in the whorehouse, drinking and fucking while you have your wish.

Zach Wellison: It hurts. It makes him think that he's not good enough and it will definitely tap into that inferiority complex that he had. But he will give you what you want, you won't see him for days while you are going through your heat.

Marcus Moreno: Doesn't understand it, but that's not for him to decide. If you don't want him around, he needs to figure out a game plan. Do you want to stay somewhere else? Do you want him and Missy to go to his moms? Once you tell him exactly what you want, he's doing that and nothing more.

Max Lord: You were in heat? He didn't even notice. He was too busy trying to save his company.

Javi Gutierrez: Heartbroken that he cannot take care of you himself. He wants to pamper you and comfort you. Instead, he sends you to one of the best resorts for Omegas who wish to ride out a heat without an Alpha. Leaving them to pamper you.

Dieter Bravo: Whiny. He can smell how horny you are. How can you not want him to fuck you? Keep you full of his cock and cum? Aren't you about to tear your skin off???? You actually have to throw him out of the damn house in order to have a moment's peace.

Tim Rockford: Honestly? That's a relief. He's got this case that is eating up the hours and he doesn't have time to focus on you. He ends up sleeping at the office for two weeks straight and you have to call him to come home.

Joel Miller: He thinks you're stupid. He knows you will suffer more, but if that's what you want, be stubborn. He will give you the space you need, but he will also be standing guard around the decrepit house you are holed up in, making sure that no other alpha gets a whiff of you.

Marcus Acacius: Doesn't understand why you would not want him to be around you. But he's not going to fight you on this. He has his most trusted guards posted around his villa, they are betas so you will not be harassed by them. They will protect you because he has already been called before the emperors to discuss yet another bloody campaign on behalf of Rome's glory.

[khristie16]

A Game On Red

about: two ferrari boys are madly obsessed with you, they do whatever it takes to keep their pr manager just for themselves. warnings: daddy kink, size kink, guys are toxic, reader is innocent, jealousy, kidnapping, primal play, cnc, smut, choking info note: if you’ve been waiting for the twisted wedding, there it is. This is the last part and I hope you enjoyed reading this short story, you’re free to let me know how you liked it, if you'd like something similiar, my requests box is open and I always read all of them, trying to work with time so I can provide what you want, love you all so much words count: 3K Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

After your desecration of the leather seats in the car, you collapsed into exhaustion as Carlos' arms comforted you. You lost the sense of time and surrounding. You’ve let them do whatever they please and you hoped just for a little bit of break, you had this deep feeling in your gut that you’re not gonna be definitely bored with them.

During the journey somewhere, you were slightly aware of your surroundings and the only thing that mattered to you was whether you had your boys around you. The rest you couldn’t bring yourself to care about. And this lead you to thinking of how this all is even possible, but you couldn’t come up with any good explanation and perhaps you didn’t want to know any. All your life you were in fear if you being good enough and doing good enough in the eyes of others. With them,…… you don’t have to feel that way, you don’t even think that way. All you thought about and knew was that you grew to them just as quickly as they grew to you, with the only difference being that they had been obsessed with you for a much longer time.

You felt something unfamiliar to your skin and your thinking has to come to an end. You could feel the soft material under your left hip and the wonderful scent wafting past your nostrils. You fluffed the scented thing more and fell deeper into sleep.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

“She's a sleepy head.”

“Indeed.”

You grunted softly on those voices that slowly woke you up and with gaining some consciousness you began to stretch your arms and legs. You were like a purring cat, satisfied with how well rested your body is. After a moment of orientation, you saw your rested yet still weak body lying on the couch, which to your surprise was more comfortable than your bed at home. And then it all hit you again because you saw boys behind the kitchen island standing with their backs to you doing something on the kitchen counter in front of them. You no longer payed attention to them and decided to take a look around and to your surprised, it was dark outside. Have you even slept?

“You've decided to finally wake up cariño?”

“Oh come on Carlos, she was tired.”

A sign left Carlos’s mouth only. This man definitely does not like any kind of weakness, even human weakness. Which is just right from him, half the time since you were kidnapped, all you could hear from him was an animal growl. The audacity of this man got you mad. But you knew it’d only invoked a reaction from him, a reaction that you couldn’t take this right moment, your body was still sore and you were glad for some chill time. Not being in the mood to add any kind of comment on him, you focused back on Charles.

“What are you doing guys?”

“Your favorite food cherie.”

“My-my what? Favorite food? How do you know which one is it?”

Carlos folded his arms and gave you a significant look. Like you are a little girl who kicked someone's little dog. It only took that little and you were embarrassed again. Yet you didn’t have anything to embarrassed about! Carlos was hitting your last nerve. You’ve never had a problem with anger of some sort, and since you got Carlos to know more, you went burning. Both from the pleasure and the anger. Yet you didn’t have any chance to show them, because all you did was running from them, from it.

“You think we want this with just anyone? Someone we don’t know anything about cherie?”

You moved your look from Carlos to Charles, leaving the previous thoughts behind.

“Guys I'm -.”

“Sh sh cariño.”

You snapped at Carlos. The audacity! You frowned your eyebrows at him and were prepared to call him out. But Carlos was at your side in a second with his finger in front of your mouth.

“We are no guys for you, baby girl.”

You blinked at him a few times and kept staring.

“And drop the attitude.”

You were sooo ready to fight back but Charles appeared by your side too, soothing your skin on your bare shoulder. You immediately relaxed under his touch.

‘‘Come on, let's eat and then we'll bathe you.’’

The warm feeling that spread through your body indicated that this is exactly what you want. You don't know how long you could last without some rest and Carlos never seemed to give you that rest. You were grateful for Charles being here.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

After eating and talking to boys, which reminded you of the old days when you were waiting together for the press and discussing whatever came to your mind right before they had to talk with the press, just enjoying the good company together, you were forced to forget for a moment of the overall situation in which you all found yourself. Even though the boys felt that way too, they were always thinking about what would come next and were incredibly excited. They knew what will to come. You were still their prey, and prey doesn’t know the plan of hunters. Therefore, as soon as you finished eating, they sped up the whole process and Carlos was  already carrying you in his arms to the bathroom. You laughed as a little girl and kicked your feet to the rhyme that was playing in your head. At that time, you completely let go of the world around you.

‘‘We want you to be perfect for it.’’

‘‘What for?’’

Carlos gently sat you down on the bathroom counter and went off to the side to find what he planed to use on you. Meanwhile, Charles walked up to you and smiled at you with his beautiful smile accompanied by his dimples. He lowered his eyes as he started caressing your thigh.

‘‘For the ceremony. When it's all over, I'd like you to get them pierced.’’

It took you a moment to understand what he meant. He helped remind you when his fingertips moved to your nipples, which still had the rings he had given you in the car. How long have you had them?

‘‘How long did I actually sleep?’’

‘‘The whole day.’’

‘‘What?’’

Charles chuckled at your reaction and stroked you all over your body.

‘‘Carlos was already getting impatient. Sometimes he can be a pretty pain in the ass, but it's only because he wants to have it confirmed.’’

‘‘What confirmed?’’

Charles still had his eyes downcast, so you plucked up the courage and reached  to touch his face. You laid your hand on his right cheek and he immediately gave you his gaze and seemed to melt away under your touch. His eyes went a little warmer as well. You swear you could get lost in them. And this was the first time you touched him with such warm intensity. You could get use to it.

‘‘That you are ours.’’

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

The boys bathed you and they left you in the next room afterwards. They told you instructions, something to the effect that there is something waiting for you on the bed. And that you should wear it. But the most odd thing they said was Pay attention to your instinct. You didn't quite understand that. But you left it without comment and walked away. The door immediately closed behind you and you heard the lock. You ran back to the door to find you locked in the room. Those fuckers! When conquering the door didn't help you, you decided to give it up and pay attention to your surroundings. A white dress was lying on the bed. The lace made them look like wedding dress. They can't possibly be serious. You took them in your hand to take a good look at them. The length could be halfway up your thighs and the neckline was lined with lace that looked a lot like a veil. You suspected that you wouldn't be strolling anywhere in these clothes on a clean laid carpet in woods, but that you would be running for your life and especially the freedom that the boys wanted to deprive you of now. But your emotions were conflicting. You did want it, because it was exciting for you, but was it the right decision? You slowly put on your dress and had the opportunity to look at yourself in the mirror. You looked like a perfect bait, again. The wind blowing through the open window reached you and you started to get goosebumps. And at that moment you remembered Carlos's words from yesterday exactly at the same moment you started to get cold, that you would warm up by running. And if they locked your door, the only way out was through the window. When you reached to the window and looked at the height of the jump, you hoped you could make it without injury.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You've been running for a while now, you don't even know where, but you knew that the further away from the house, the better. Ever since you hit the ground and your right ankle slightly protested against such a fall, you told yourself that the worst was over. But that was before you heard the strange noises coming from somewhere below you. When you felt a hand around your ankles trying to pull you down, you started screaming and running because right where you were standing was the basement. And basements are your nightmare, thanks to the countless horror movies you've seen.

In a dense forest you're running for your life. And for your freedom specifically. You knew what was coming, because sucking your clit in the forest wasn't the only thing they wanted to offer you. Or more so needed from you. Your white dress, which was a definite symbol of the wedding and marriage and being theirs as long as they wanted, once a symbol of love and happiness, is now torn, dirtied, and stained with tears. Your heart pounds like a drum in your chest, echoing the urgency of your escape. Twigs and brambles claw at your bare legs, leaving angry red marks.

You haven't heard them for a long time. But you knew they are close. They always are. But despite your exhaustion and the odds stacked against you, you refuse to give in. And so you continued on, the trees stopped being so dense and more light began to shine through them. You saw something in the open space in the distance that gave you hope. You ran even faster and found out that there was a cave with a lake underneath it. It would take you a long time to climb up, and most importantly, it is likely that you would fall. You don't have as much strength as you did in the beginning and pulling your tired body up made you forget about this plan for now. Hiding underwater was also a bad idea, now you needed to oxygenate your body and not stop breathing. You didn't know what to do so you went back to plan number one. You couldn't run no more. You had to risk something, and you'd rather fall and break something than voluntarily drown.

Your footsteps falter, and your breath comes in ragged gasps as you approach the rocky sanctuary. Your trembling hands fumble for a small, concealed crevice in the cave's wall. And so you climb on. It took you a lot of energy and most of the time you felt unconscious, as if someone else was doing the work for you. Whether it was the body itself or the mind, you were glad you climbed all the way to the top. On the final tackle you rolled to the side and rolled away from the edge, unable to believe what you had just accomplished. And that you didn't help yourself at all.

You were lying on your back with your eyes closed. You knew you had some time left, and if the boys didn't find you at all, you'd be here the whole time. But did you want to voluntarily freeze to death in a cave? No matter what you did, you needed boys for comfort. And you got yourself into it. If you refused to play this game yesterday. This sick game! But your career was at stake and you didn't want to lose it. You were so mad at yourself now that you didn't think it through. This is exactly what the boys didn't want, because you would reject them and negotiate that they can't threaten you. Unless they have something on you... As you were thinking, the wind changed direction and was now playing with your hair. Although cold, at least the gentle caress of the breeze forced you to relax your tense muscles. But something was wrong because you smelled something familiar. You opened your eyes with lightning speed and looked under the cliff to see if anyone was there. You didn't see anyone and you thought you were starting to have delusions. But your ears serve you well as you remembered.

‘‘Miss us cariño?’’

In disbelief, you slowly turned around to see the two of them sitting far away in the dark in a cave. Somewhere you didn't look. It means they were here long before you or you fell asleep for a while?

‘‘Guys.’’

‘‘Sh Sh, we do the talking.’’

Carlos came closer and the moonlight reflecting off the water illuminated his smile, a wicked smile that filled you with terror. You started crying, this was scary.

Charles appeared right next to him with a face you couldn't make out. You hoped you would at least find comfort in Charles, but he was now looking at you as if you had committed something heinous. Tears streamed down your cheeks. Both of them approached you while you sat curled up on the cold ground and looked down at them from under your eyelashes.

‘‘Beautiful…’’

The boys didn't mess with you. Carlos grabbed you by the neck and pulled you closer to his face.

‘‘If you have two rings from Charles, I will have those as well.’’

Carlos strangled you with such brutal force that you were sure he would leave his mark around your neck. While you were looking into Carlos's eyes with tears and difficulty breathing, Charles bucked your knees and you fell onto them. But it was much less pain than what you could have imagined would follow.

‘‘Don't worry baby girl. Daddies will also take care of you after. Now is now though.’’

Crying didn't help you, but it was the only thing you could do now. You were as if completely paralyzed and unable to resist them. Charles tore off your white dress and threw the piece of fabric away. Carlos finally let you go and you could breathe. Before you recovered, you were straddling Carlos' lap. His head was on the ground as was his whole body. Charles crouched behind you and began to caress you.

‘‘You're so wet cherie, again,... you like it.’’

You sobbed more and Carlos immediately grabbed you by the neck again. He looked into your eyes with that look and you knew you had no time left.

‘‘You will take us as a good girl you are.’’

You didn't have a choice and even if you did, you were very curious to see what it would be like. You had to finally admit that this wasn't just their fault, it was yours too.

Carlos gathered the bottom of his pants and pulled them out. The two boys didn't wait for anything. Carlos took you first and stretched you out and when he laughed out loud about the way you were struggling taking him, he pulled out and this time Charles drove into you. You were just a hole for them to use and they would use you exactly to their liking and there was nothing you could do about it, but you loved it. Carlos grabbed you by the neck and pulled your face closer.

‘‘Now you nicely go all the way down, because you're gonna need all the pleasure there is.’’

He had already pushed you back onto his cock and you gasped in pain as you felt Charles' fingers penetrate your ass. A moment was enough and Charles was conquering his cock in your other hole. You didn't know how much longer you could keep it up, but when Charles started to tease your nipples and Carlos your clit with his other hand, the sensations were so much that it all merged together and you could only feel your coming orgasm. You screamed for the whole round and the cave pushed your moans further into the ether. Your head was spinning and your vocal cords started to ache as well as every other opening in your body. You got carried away by everything you felt and surrendered to it.

──── ──── ──── ──── ────

You could smell the sweat, the mud, and the smell you knew so intimately. You slowly opened your eyes and felt yourself floating. Carlos carried you in his arms towards god knows where. You quietly said his teammate's name and immediately someone stroked your hair. You then kept your eyes closed and rested as much as you could. You no longer cared what would happen to you. Especially as long as the boys take care of you. And you hoped they would follow the promise.

‘‘Open your eyes cariño’’

When you slowly opened them, you saw Carlos, you in his arms and Charles next to you. You were all naked, dirty and sweaty. Like animals. But there was trust between you, or at least some kind of bond that brought you close enough that you felt safe with them. much more than ever with anyone else, even an ex-boyfriend.

A large ring spread around your neck and two rings in your nipples from Charles. Now you were marked from both of them. You looked into Charles's eyes and saw that he was proud of you. You smiled shyly at him and buried yourself deeper into Carlos' chest. As if you wanted to hide from their feelings. Carlos placed a kiss in your hair, which was the first time he had shown such tenderness, and you looked at him with wide wide, open eyes.

‘‘What are you looking at, you're ours now. You're mine now. And I treasure what is mine.’’

Charles stepped closer and turned your head towards him.

‘‘We are yours now, you can do whatever you want with us and we will do anything for you.’’

[nelle-y]

We Become We

Synopsis: you’re arranged to marry the one and only yashiro commissioner, Kamisato Ayato

Content: Ayato x fem!reader, arranged marriage, one-sided love (Ayato) not proofread

Note: titled and inspired by the song ‘We Become We’ from Journey to Bethlehem (this is a little bit messy bc i tried making it shorter than my usual stuff😭)

—

“Do you like dogs?” Ayato guided you away from a puddle of rain. He has been asking you questions since you began your walk in the garden.

Still down in the dumps, you asnwered dryly, uninterested. “I’m fond of them.”

Your father had arranged a wedding for you and Lord Kamisato sooner than you had thought. You weren’t able to let everything sink in when he announced the date, there was still a little bit of aftershock left until now.

Lord Kamisato was ever such a gentleman—as he should. Flattery and friendly statements have accompanied you since he arrived at your clan’s estate. Nonetheless, you felt nothing for him. His chivalry was all for show. You knew this was just an arrangement, a sacrifice to make for your clan—for your father.

You were sure he felt the same, and that you would live in your separate houses as you tended to your duties, unbothered and concentrated. But the way he spoke to you made you think otherwise.

“Is that so? Then maybe I could show you my friend’s dog? His name is Taroumaru—the dog, not my friend.” Normally, Ayato wouldn’t speak so freely and childish around a person, but he felt safe enough in your presence to loosen his tongue. You nodded dryly, again.

He began to tire of your meekly responses. He sighed, “I’m sorry. You’re clearly upset about this whole… situation.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, you looked at him for the very first time. Now he could properly see your monotonous eyes. “What gave it away?” You finally spoke in a more sincere tone.

“Well,” Ayato hesitated. “I won’t go into detail, but I’m no novice at taking hints.” You shyly laugh at this—a step in the right direction, he thought.

“I suppose I have to be careful next time.” Your gaze glued to the ground once more. “I wouldn’t want to offend you, Commissioner.”

“You don’t have to hide a thing, Y/N.” He leaned down slightly for you to see him. “It’s gonna take more than a secret to offend me. Oh, and you can call me Ayato; we are getting married, after all.”

You looked at him strangely, “I don’t understand how you’re so calm right now. Aren’t you disappointed that you’ve got your freedom taken away now that you’re engaged?”

“I’ll be honest here, I haven’t had that much freedom even before getting engaged!” He laughs, “If anything, choosing you as my wife is the only freedom I’ll ever have.”

“Only freedom?”

“When you become a leader, especially at a young age, you make it a habit to decide for the development of your clan. Your duties, fortunes, you should always think if it would benefit your people. There’s hardly any time to think for yourself.”

All of the sudden you felt pity for the man, with empathy lingering over. “Then you became the commissioner,” you draw out, to which he sighed. It seems like he’s unbothered by it now, like he’s gotten used to this overwhelming lifestyle. “Do you ever wonder about retirement?”

“As long as there’s no heir, I believe retirement isn’t an option for me.”

Ah, another reason for your engagement—producing an heir. Archons, you pray your children will have a much better life than you and your groom-to-be. “What about Miss Ayaka?”

You see a small grin on Ayato’s lips. “She’ll want to explore the world, meet new friends and what not. Best not to trouble her.” You both sit on a small bench with an overlooking view of the sunset, purple and red-colored leaves matching the tall sky.

“You really care for her, don’t you?”

“Of course, she is my sister, after all.” Ayato found you leering your head near his shoulder. A warm feeling buzzes in his chest as he nudged closer to you. Oh, he’s been talking all this time! You haven’t said a word about yourself since you met him, he realizes. To correct his mistake, he asks, “What about you? How are you feeling?”

“Well,” you uttered, unsure where to start. You lean against him. “I find it charming that you care for your sister so much.”

“I meant with the marriage.” His voice wasn’t judgmental, but more like a friend lending comfort and safety. It lures you to open up to him.

“This was all just an arrangement,” you confess. Ayato couldn’t help but feel disappointed, yet he doesn’t speak a word of it. Maybe there will be a small rainbow after a drizzle of rain. “That was how I felt at first. But now I’m slowly growing more fond of you, my lord.

If you think of me as easily-caught, then I claim to be fond of you as a friend. At least, for now.”

“For now,” he repeats. “I’ll take that as a good sign. In truth, I fear I’m falling for you sooner than I thought.”

His confession makes you rise from your comfortable place, shock and sudden nervousness pulsing through your veins. “Pardon?”

Ever such a lady, he thought, even when shocked you still hold face. When he looked at you, he saw how you got antsy. Fearing for your comfort, he said, “I’m only joking, miss Y/N! I feel the same as you; a friend.”

You let out a breath, slightly relieved. You were flattered, but love at first sight just felt ridiculous to you—that was just physical attraction. True love takes time and understanding. With Ayato saying he was falling for you, you feared it was only for your looks and not for your soul. Though, you weren’t entirely opposed to the idea of loving him.

“I do admire your elegance, though,” he added.

“Thank you.”

Ayato couldn’t be happier that he was about to be your husband and you, his wife.

It was the way his name seemed to echo in songs from the loveliness that is your voice. It was the way you nodded when people passed by despite not knowing them. It was this sense of perfection he saw in you, and it only took him a smile to tell.

But the question in his head paralyzed him, anxious and, he wouldn’t lie, a little embarrassed. His feelings would be null and void if you didn’t—or wouldn’t—feel the same. “Will this always be just an arrangement to you?”

The stars peeked through the violet sky like fireflies by the time you walked back. The smell of the nearby sea and the woodlands blew with the air. You looked straight, watching your step in case you trip, while Ayato had looked at you like you were… everything. “I don’t really know you that well, Ayato. It can be difficult to tell.”

“But do you think, with time, this blossom of ours will grow into a beautiful flower?”

You appreciate his metaphor. “Maybe, someday.”

Someday.

—the end.—

[thedinanshiral]

Inside you there are two wolves..

I recently made a tweet simply sharing a fraction of my thoughts on the Solavellan motif of wolf&halla. I decided to expand on it here.

I never adhered to the whole wolf/halla Solavellan thing. That dynamic is simply not for me, not with them. I think Solas is more likely to fall for an equal; even if Lavellan technically isn't, she's definitely the closest he's met in a thousand years. She's the white wolf [in his romanced tarot card] Adding to this, he respects her opinion and counsel, she inadvertently may help him make up his mind about what he'll do next (woops) aka giving him purpose, and she can also vow to save him from himself. She's both his guide and guardian. This is his romanced card for a reason.

I can understand why many people may like to frame Solavellan in the wolf&halla motif. He's an ancient elvhen, she's literally thousands of years younger than him. He's wise beyond her imagination and she knows by comparison basically nothing of their own history. He's the deciever and she's the deceived. The predator/prey dynamic is right there, at first.

Solas is a proud man, one may argue even arrogant, but he's also a serious man, focused, disciplined, he wouldn't fall for just anyone, he wouldn't open his heart to someone he may consider lesser even in the slightest. While he refused to acknowledge present elves as people and maybe thought of them as little else than a bad dream he had to wake up from at any cost, Lavellan earned his trust, his respect and admiration, through her actions, her own "indomitable focus", and by showing him the respect and admiration other Dalish denied him on sight. She gave him hope for the future of his people and that must have been priceless, she literally changed his whole world.

At that point there was no hunting, no preying, no seeing Lavellan as another chesspiece on the board, even if she couldn't be allowed to be anything else. She defied all his preconceptions and rendered him vulnerable. Their relationship is consensual, up to a certain point it ends when Lavellan says it ends, he doesn't pursue further if rejected. Actually, it's Lavellan who pursues him most of the time, why isn't Solas the halla here? He's the one being chased!

Lavellan is a wolf too, the white wolf.

The Exalted Plains has shrines to Fen'harel, one in particular is flanked by two wolf figures, one white and the other black. His dual nature is always present; in Dalish lore he's despised as the betrayer but also revered and his favour still sought after. As the Dreadwolf he was both friend and enemy to the people, depending on which side they were on. He's prideful but can also be crushingly selfless.

I really like this shrine because of these statues

The white and black wolves also appear in his tarot cards.

When he falls for Lavellan, he's locked in for good; even as he ends the relationship before even giving it a name, his card changes to his romanced one, and there's no going back. Lavellan can't undo it, he won't even though he's the one insisting their love can not be. But it is, and it is for life. Wolves mate for life. This immediately tells me Lavellan is also a wolf, and she's represented in his romanced card as the white one.

At the forefront, walking next to him, watching, guarding him. Colours are light, golden, the scene is calm, serene.

If he's never romanced then the other card of his give us a very different image:

His shadow becomes a giant black wolf that towers over him, right behind him, leaning forward almost as if about to engluf him, consume him. This is possibly a representation of his Dinan'shiral, and more clearly of his Dreadwolf aspect. He's set himself on a journey he can not stop and from which he can not return.

Interestingly enough there's an alternative version of this card that was discarded:

In it his head isn't covered by a hood, he carries no staff and there is no moon. The menacing wolf haunting him remains the same.

While the black wolf walks behind him, the white wolf walks beside him. He considers Lavellan his equal, even in all their differences. While the black wolf seems about to consume him, the white wolf is guarding him, staring at the viewer as if asying "Do not dare disturb his peace". He knows she'd do anything to protect him out of love even as he's decided to destroy himself out of love for his people (and tons upon tons of guilt).

Lavellan made him vulnerable in a way he had not foreseen and so he had no defenses against that love. I strongly believe only a romanced Lavellan can change his mind, at the very least make him doubt at the last moment. As much as he respects and appreciates a friend Inquisitor, it simply isnt' the same. Lavellan is to him a light so bright he had to force himself to look away lest he became blind and lost in it.

I remember people were puzzled at first, why if his romanced card is The Hierophant it had almost all elements of The Fool? There's two simple reasons i can think of. First of all, he's a fool in love. Falling in love with Lavellan is probably the stupidest thing he's done since he woke up, considering he's on a suicide mission to end her world. But that he did speaks of trust, opened up possibilities he hadn't imagined, Lavellan's innocence was contagious and powerful enough that he really had to struggle to turn away from her.

At the same time, the Hierophant is a teacher of tradition, which really had been his role all throughout Inquisition, and the last thing he does before cutting the romance was share more of that lost knowledge to Lavellan, the truth of the vallaslin.

Solas' romanced card is two cards combined referencing multiple aspects of their character and relationship, and we could also consider the Fool to be Lavellan, because the defining element in the card design that can make people wonder which card is it is the white wolf. She's the fool mortal that fell for a god, she's the Keeper who fell for Fen'harel, and she didn't know it until it was too late.

As for his final card, The Tower, it doesn't necessarily have to be so terrible. Much like Death, The Tower is about change. The end of the old to allow for the new, and changes can be positive or negative, they can be gentle or earth-shattering. In Solas' case we know he's aiming for the resurgence of the world he knew by destroying the one he inadvertently created when he put up the Veil, but this card may also symbolize the destruction of all his preconceptions and ideas, the realization that the world he knew was gone and another strange one he couldn't accept had taken its place, the symbolic death of a part of himself as he changed in his time with the Inquisition.

I imagine the white wolf represents his soul, in a way, the thing by which he may be redeemed. And that is Lavellan. No halla, but a wolf that's been tracking him for years, hunting him down to stop him because she and she alone has the power to do so. And he's been running away from her for as many years because he knows this even better than she does, he knows she's his last remaning weakness, the one that makes him vulnerable enough to break his resolve because in the end hers is stronger.

I really don't think he'd be capable of harming Lavellan, and if he does i feel it would drive him mad and cause him to lose whatever control he'd have left. He'd lose his light, his soul, his heart, leaving behind only the shadows. He chose to leave rather than take Lavellan out of the equation here and that tells me he can't bring himself to do it, it's too late now, he feels too much for her.

Now I'm extra curious and anxious to see what role the Inquisitor will play in The Veilguard, if they'll meet Solas again, what effect that would have on both of them.

And I hope neither tries to do something stupid..

[littlejuicebox]

A different kind.

Written for a prompt given to me by @coyote-mint! Thank you!

Also, peep this Dadstarion drawing by @supplementalfigures which I adore and is the inspiration for Astarion wearing baby Gale.

Summary: The Ancunins take their first outing as a family of three. They aren’t quite prepared for the new experience.

Tags/Warnings: all fluff, family, parenthood, babies, Astarion being Astarion

*

Astarion protectively wraps his hands beneath the small infant in his arms. Gale is just under two months old and sleeping curled against his father, lulled by the steady thrum of the older man’s heart.

The little one is held snugly against Astarion’s chest with a wrap made of gauzy blue cotton, intricately embroidered one night by the previously-expectant father. Gold-threaded stars and planets dapple the inky night sky of the fabric, keeping the infant sleeping peacefully among the celestial bodies.

The stars certainly shine for Gale. At least in the Ancunin household.

The first outing as a family of three is to the newest shop in town, Rivington Raiments, the first fine clothier in the outer city. Both Astarion and you hoped this newest addition meant journeys into the city for every new garment would be a thing of the past.

Over the years, trips would have been even more frequent had your husband not been a fair clothing alterer himself. In the past nine months, he’d had to let out your favorite dresses more than once as your stomach grew to encompass the life that had been growing within.

But now, you’ve lost majority of the baby bump, and a few new pieces are in order to replace some of the well-worn garments currently in your closet.

The tailor fusses around you, placing pins in a winter-ready dress you’ve decided to try on. Astarion is watching with rapt interest as the middle-aged human woman adjusts the hem. He thinks that, in another life, that might have been him.

“How do I look?” You ask after you turn to face Astarion once the seamstress has finished pinning her proposed alterations.

“I think you’d look gorgeous in anything, darling,” Your husband remarks with a soft smile, his hand sliding from its resting spot under the bundle in his arms to lightly pat the infant’s back. He’s swaying gently as he speaks; the constant soothing movement while holding Gale has quickly become a habit for you both.

It’s a compliment, but he means it’s a no.

You nod your head in understanding and then turn to look at yourself in the mirror, feigning thought, before sighing and saying, “I believe I would like to think about this further before I make a purchase. But thank you for your time. Perhaps you could direct me to the children’s clothing once I change?”

As the seamstress busily works to unpin you, Astarion catches your eye and flashes you the briefest crinkled nose behind the woman’s back.

Ah, so he’d meant the dress was a hell no.

*

“Don’t you think you went a little overboard on your purchases, my love?” Astarion inquires as the two of you enter the local tavern for lunch.

“We go through so many diapers and burp cloths a day, it’s hard for the poor maid to keep up with the wash,” You respond, narrowing your gaze at your husband, “Just because you don’t have to wash them doesn’t mean we have enough.”

“Very well,” Your silver-haired spouse responds, choosing to avoid the argument though he cannot avoid rolling his eyes slightly as the two of you sit down.

Gale begins to stir against his father. The movements are followed by tiny grunts of disapproval coming from layers of cloth. Your husband manages to calm the infant, at least for a moment longer, with a few gentle caresses along the baby’s back.

A quick glance to the wall clock and the older elf warns, “Ah, I’m afraid it will be feeding time soon and my charms will no longer work, dear.”

The two of you place an order with the barmaid. She returns moments later with a pitcher of water and focuses her attention on the flash of silver hair peaking out from swaths of navy.

“I see the new addition is here,” She remarks, her hand moving to touch the all too tempting, downy soft patch of curls upon the baby’s head.

Astarion instantly intercepts the well-meaning gesture with his own hand, his mouth forming a thin line of irritation as he releases the woman’s wrist from his grip.

“I would thank you to not touch me or my children without consent, Beatrice. And certainly not without washing your hands first.” The male elf says, the normal gentility of his tone lost in favor of a much sharper one.

“O-oh, of course. I apologize, Lord Ancunin,” The barmaid responds, splotches of rose appearing across her face as she quickly takes a step back to increase her breadth from the infant.

Your husband gained a reputation for being highly litigious years ago. Though he slayed his enemies with contracts and court appearances rather than daggers nowadays, he was still seen as quite dangerous. No one has yet forgotten the dispute the Ancunins had with their neighbors over property lines shortly after the manor was purchased.

Perhaps Astarion had lied to get his way in that one. But what did your neighbors truly need with a single colonnade of fruit-bearing trees when you two held rights the rest of the orchard?

Beatrice quickly dismisses herself and heads to assist another table of customers. When Astarion turns his attention back to you, he spots your arms folded across your chest in signature displeasure and groans, readying himself for the chastisement.

“She’s going to spit in our food now, Astarion.” You remark with a soft, slightly annoyed sigh.

“She can spit in my food thrice if it means she doesn’t touch my vulnerable child,” Your husband retorts, his pale hand once again finding its habitual resting place along the infant’s back.

You shrug and give a vague wave your hand in a sign of truce. Because really, how can you argue against a protective father?

As if on cue, Gale begins to cry just as the barmaid places your orders on the table. It’s a loud, shrill, hungry wail, earning the two of you several bothered glares from other patrons scattered across the tavern.

“Oh, please, as if none of you have heard a crying baby before,” Astarion snaps, just loud enough for the nearby tables to hear as he begins to pull Gale from the carrier. The elf tries in vain to soothe the babe, but as predicted, the little prince is demanding satiation.

You sneak one bite of mashed potato in your mouth and then sigh before gesturing for your husband to pass you the infant. Astarion gives you an apologetic look as he places the little one in your arms.

Unfortunately, daddy just doesn’t have the correct anatomy for this part of parenting.

Gale quickly finds a proper latch and stops crying as he searches for nutrients with happy hums. Astarion eats a few bites of his own meal and soon sets his sights on feeding you.

At first you refuse, already bothered by the prying eyes staring at your partially exposed breast — typical — and not wanting to attract further attention. Your husband throws the wrap over your chest and then stares as you expectantly.

The intensity of his eyes and the set of his jaw say you’re not getting out of this one. He’s going to feed you like a child since he cannot feed his own child in this moment.

It’s both embarrassing and adorable.

You watch the fork approach your face, keeping your lips firmly sealed in a final protest. But then both a narrowed glare and irritated huff from Astarion cause you to instantly open your mouth, where he places a few green beans upon your tongue.

“How do you expect Gale to have proper nourishment if you keep leaving your meals half finished, little love?” Your husband lectures before placing a bit of mashed potatoes in your mouth and planting an affectionate kiss upon the apple of your cheek.

The child in your arms coos in assent.

“See, the little prince even agrees with me,” Astarion remarks with a cheeky wink, taking a moment to steal a bite of food from his own plate.

This was the first time these two silver-haired little loves of yours formed a coup. It wouldn’t be the last.

You roll your eyes at your husband and then peer down at the baby nestled in your arms, suckling without a care in the world.

“Traitor,” You whisper, the word laced with more than enough affection to negate the connotation before placing a loving kiss on the crown of Gale’s head.

*

Your little family is almost all the way home when Astarion stops dead in his tracks with a look of horror plastered upon his face. He peers down at the small bundle of blue and baby with wide-eyed surprise.

“What— what is it?!” You practically shriek, motherly instincts jumping into anxious overdrive as you reach for the child tucked safely against his father.

Astarion quickly grabs your hand, much like he grabbed Beatrice’s earlier, though with a decidedly more gentle clasp. You can tell by his lack of panic that Gale is safe, and your initial reaction begins to wane as the elf lowers your hand away from your son.

“He pooped, dear,” Your husband sighs, a sudden wave of weary exhaustion slapping the still-new father in his face, “And if you stick your hand in the wrap, it’s going to be all over you… because it’s all over Gale… and me.”

The look upon Astarion’s face is hilarious. And you can’t help it, you simply have to laugh at the new father clinging to what little patience he has.

“Not. Funny.” The retired rogue hisses, narrowing his eyes at you before walking briskly in the direction of the house.

There was roughly a half mile left to the front of the property and he seemed intent on crossing that distance at rapid speed, “From now on we are always taking the carriage into town. With extra clothes and supplies for all of us. I don’t care how much you abhor it, Tav. Walking this far with a needy infant and scant supplies is simply impractical and we are not arguing about this further.”

As if to prove a point, Gale begins to shriek like he is suddenly aware he’s covered in his own filth. The sound causes Astarion to practically break into a sprint, both arms coming to hold the infant fast against his chest. You run after the two, trying to keep up, but your husband is moving so quickly you’d think he’s still a vampire if you didn’t know better.

*

The little prince is now clean and perfectly pink as you rock him in the nursery. The early afternoon sun is shining through the window, casting the two of you in an ethereal backlight. Gale has forgotten all about the poop incident; his father, on the other hand, will never be able to let go of this particular memory.

Astarion sits in the nursery with you two, sipping a cup of tea. His wet curls hang around his ears, still occasionally dripping water onto his house clothes. He admires you, and the sunlight dancing in your hair, watching as you hum an Elvish lullaby to the sleepy infant in your arms.

His memories quickly flash at the sight.

The day you told him you loved him.

The day you two won the battle.

The day you accepted his proposal.

The day he saw you walking down the aisle.

The day you told him you were pregnant.

He thought you were the most beautiful in every one of those moments, each one always outdoing the previous.

But this vision of you, right now, happy and calm, rocking the little prince you two created?

This certainly outdid all those prior memories.

After two hundred years of pure shit, Astarion is beyond thankful to now have over a decade of better memories.

Though, he’s beginning to see the next decade will also be full of shit.

Just a different, and somehow better, kind.

[nichuuu]

Je T’aime

(Yeowooya part 2)[ft. Joy]

Tags: Fluff, angst, titfuck, riding, standing doggy, facial Word count: 9k+

You took a sip of water from the cup before you. Just behind the screen of your laptop, you could see Joy biting her lip in concentration. The ample lighting of her apartment saved you from another migraine as you scrolled through the document sent to you, and it also allowed you to watch her adjust the oversized shirt over her petite frame. You’d both woken up after a crazy round of sex, now it was time to work. 

“Would ‘flamboyance’ be the right word to describe this?” Joy inquired. Setting your cup down, you replied. “I think ‘grandeur’ would be a little more suitable…”

She hummed in agreement and typed away. 

“You know, you look pretty cute with those glasses,” she complimented. Your contacts had dried up earlier that day, leaving you with no other option but to put on your spectacles. You always felt rather self-conscious with the round, clunky frames sitting atop your nose. It felt nice to hear a compliment about them. 

“Do you want me to wear them around more often?” You grinned.

“Maybe,” She replied cheekily. You shot her a look.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really fucking confusing?” You inquired. 

“Maybe…”

You rolled your eyes and took your glasses off. It’d been awhile since you wore them. The weight on your nose bridge was irking you a little. You set it down on Joy’s dining  table, closing your eyes to give yourself a small break. 

“Hm…” You heard Joy hum. You could visualise the pout on her face as she vocalised her moment of thought. 

“Need help?” you offered. 

You heard a faint rustle. Your eyes snapped open. 

Your specs were on Joy’s face. 

“Wow… You’re degree’s pretty low,” she remarked, “Why don’t you just wear these babies around everywhere?”

You stretched out your hand. “Give them back.”

Joy smirked.

“That’s no way to talk to your teammate!” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Give them back please,” you corrected yourself. Joy tapped a finger on her chin, as if she needed the combined power of her five remaining brain cells to come to a decision. 

“No,” she eventually answered. 

A regular person would be a little ticked off by her behaviour, but you liked her enough to put up with her shit.

You heard Joy slide your spectacles back across the table.

“Don’t be annoyed, Ahjussi,” she teased you.  

Retrieving your specs, you replied. “I’m not annoyed.” 

And you were telling the truth.

You heard Joy let out a soft giggle before she resumed her work. It’d been a few weeks after your getaway with her. When you returned back to the office after your time on the beach, you were delighted to hear that your entire team had been dragged through the mud by just about every executive. They gave you the tongue lashing of your life, screaming all sorts of slurs and expletives. Out of courtesy, you apologised, but you did your best to hide a sly grin as you made eye contact with Joy. 

A few hours after you got back, you were called into your boss's office. When you entered, you found Joy seated opposite your boss. As it would turn out, your boss had been monitoring both your work and Joy’s work—despite the fact that she was under different management—and decided that you were both worthy of a promotion. And so, you and Joy began your new journey in a new department as teammates. Better teammates, better desk space, better pay… 

The first couple of days were fine for the both of you. You both acclimatised quickly to the new nature of your work and quickly learnt the process of the strange new place you had been promoted to. It felt unusual to have teammates that actually did work that they promised to do, and it was definitely out of the ordinary to be treated to coffee by your juniors in the team. It was an odd new experience, but you grew to like it.

With the convenience of being located to the desk next to yours, Joy was more playful than ever. When she was in a good mood, Soo-young would drop by and check up on you, leaving all sorts of snacks. When she felt like crap, Joy would sneak into your space to “consult” you, which was code for asking you to meet her in the bathroom for a quickie. Interactions with her became more frequent, and each exchange you had with her made that funny, fluttering feeling you’d experienced in the Chalet grow.

After about a week of working with her, you figured out that you had a crush on Joy. 

“Help me read this email real quick,” she requested. You slid your spectacles back onto your face.

Joy slid her laptop across the table. You spun the screen around so that you could read.

“I think I did a pretty good job. You can feel my sincerity emanating from it,” she mused. She stood up and walked around the table to settle on the chair next to you. 

“We’ll see…” you muttered, scrolling to the top of the page. Her leg brushed against yours. You felt the hairs on your body stand.

You thoroughly proofread Joy’s long email to one of the clients that she’d been assigned to reach out to. She’d always been a good writer, and you knew because you’d read countless emails for her. There was never much that needed to be amended or added in her emails, maybe a few small grammatical errors or punctuation mistakes here and there. You remember that she’d once wanted to pursue a career in writing while she was in highschool, but her parents shut her down the moment she brought it up. 

“Looks decent,” you remarked, sliding her laptop back to her.

“That’s it? Just ‘decent’?” Joy interrogated. 

Giving her a look, you answered. “What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“A compliment would be nice.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“Fine… Your email’s good,” you obliged. 

“Thank you,” Joy smiled. She seemed satisfied with your new response.

You chuckled to yourself and closed your laptop. 

“I refuse to believe that no one has ever told you how confusing you are,” you told her frankly. With a shrug, Joy replied, “It’s because I don’t hang out with naggy uncles like you.”

“We’re the same age, Soo-young.”

“But that doesn’t make you any less of an uncle…”

You picked up your notebook and lightly smacked her over the head. Joy pouted, a feigned look of pain on her face. 

“Keep up the act and I’ll smack you even harder,” you warned her, shaking the notebook in your hand for extra emphasis.

“Alright…” Joy groaned, “Jeez… Take a joke will you?”

“I can take a jokes. Your jokes are just bad,” you smirked. 

“Take that back,” she ordered. 

With a wink, you shot back, “Make me.” 

Joy took a good look at you. You blinked, and she was on you the next moment. Her hands cupped your cheeks, nails tracing circular patterns on your face. 

“Take it back…” she whispered. 

If this happened before you learnt of your crush on Joy, you would’ve reacted normally—Grab her ass, kiss her, scoop her up and take her to the bedroom… You could probably write a five page essay on the various ways you’d own her. 

But it was different now.

You found your heart palpitating in your chest. Your palms were sweaty, your arms stiff at your sides. All the retorts that you came up with instantly left you. 

There was only one question on your mind.

“What’s wrong… Cat got your tongue?” Joy chuckled.

She was pinching your cheeks now, kneading with the soft flesh on your face like a child with playdoh. 

“Is it my turn to be in control?” she asked, “Oh I have been waiting for—”

“What are we to each other?” you interrupted. 

A look of confoundment crossed her face. 

“H-Huh?” 

Her hands stopped fidgeting and fiddling with your face. She looked you in the eyes. 

“What… What are we, Soo-young?” you asked once more. Joy blinked.

“I… Don’t know…” she admitted, “What do you… Want us to be?” 

You looked away for a moment. Now was the opportune moment to ask her out, yet something was weighing down on your heart. Hesitation seemed to be present in every cell of your body, but you were compelled to speak your mind.

“I… I want to date you Soo-young,” you blurted. 

You hardly used her name yet it seemed to roll off your tongue so easily. Joy seemed at a loss for words. Silently, she slipped off you and sat back down on her chair. You swallowed the saliva that was accumulating in your mouth.

“Look… I-I know this is a little sudden and all…” you began. She raised a hand to cut you off. You zipped up as she spoke.

“We… Can’t date,” she told you, a grim look on her face. Your heart sank to your stomach.

Joy pursed her lips. She rubbed her palms against her thighs, her head turning to look out of her apartment window. 

“I don’t have anything against you,” she clarified, “It’s just… I… I don’t think we should be in a serious relationship.”

You nodded solemnly, understanding where she was coming from. You had a feeling that she wouldn’t feel the same way about you, but her rejection still hurt nonetheless. 

“Oh…” you muttered. “I… I see…”

Joy sighed heavily. 

“Look… I…” she started, “I… I think I’ll need some time to think by myself…” 

You nodded. You wanted to respect her decision, yet the urge to try and talk things out with her threatened to overpower your thoughts. You grabbed your laptop and stood up before you let your emotions get to your head. 

“I’ll leave then,” you announced. 

She looked up at you. Her mouth opened. You hoped that she’d say, “Wait”, tell you to sit down and talk things out with her… 

She closed her mouth and let out a shaky breath. She had no words for you, and you decided that you didn’t have any words for her either. 

You packed your things into your bag. You could feel her watching, silently observing you stuff your things into your bag. You knew that things wouldn’t be the same between the both of you from now on, and it was your fault.  You shouldered your bag and headed over to her door. Your hand hovered over the doorknob for a few seconds, a naive part of you hoping for her to call you back. 

But when you looked back at her, she was staring at the floor. There was an unreadable expression on her face, a mix of emotions you’d never seen before. 

“Joy…”

She turned her head. You gave her a small smile. 

“I hope that… You can think this over,” you told her. 

She fixed you with a look—Unreadable.

“Y-Yea… I-I’ll try to…”

You smiled.

“Cool… See you I guess…”

Your hand gripped the cold doorknob. Everything you hoped to say had been said. You opened the door and left her apartment. 

You did your best to not look back. 

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

A heaviness in your heart plagued you for the rest of the week. A veil had shrouded your brain, your mind hazy and unfocused. Everything seemed to go by in a haze, bits of information entering your mind here and there as you sat at your desk and slogged away. 

All forms of conversation with Joy had ceased. You did your best to avoid her when you could, but there were inevitable moments like the times where you had to ride the same lift or print something at the same time. In those small moments, you’d shoot a small smile that was sometimes unreturned. You tried to talk to her every now and then, but she never seemed to be interested. It didn’t help that her desk was next to yours.

Loneliness had begun to set in by your second week without Joy. You never realised how much time you’d spent with her till she was completely removed from your life. There were times when the two of you were alone, and you had to fight the urge to call her name in those times, every fibre of your body fighting against the thought of just turning to her and asking to talk. It was hard to see her, and it was even harder to watch as she went about her day like you didn’t exist. 

By the first month, you’d accepted the fact that Joy would never rethink her feelings for you. It was foolish for you to ever think that she’d give it a second thought. You weren’t sure why you genuinely thought that there was hope.

By the third month without her, you were slowly getting accustomed to your new way of life. There was still the dull throb of emptiness in your heart, but you learnt to cope with it by drowning yourself in work.

By the fifth month, you thought you were okay. But that was when Joy texted you. 

It was late. Joy had gone home long ago. When you saw her name pop up on your notification centre, your fingers froze on your keyboard. You stared at your phone screen, silently looking at the icon till your screen turned off. It took you a good moment to come back to your senses before you actually opened your chat with her.  

We should talk. 

You found yourself stunned by the three words she’d sent over a minute ago. Memories that you’d taken months to shut out were flooding back. You typed a reply.

Ok. 

The message was instantly seen. The three dots appeared, moving in a wave as she typed something back. 

We need to talk in person. 

Are you free this weekend?

You raised an eyebrow. When you were still in contact with Joy, she’d always told you that weekends were reserved for her to be by herself. She was strict on this rule, but she was making an exception now. You quickly checked your calendar for the weekend. There was nothing.

Yeah. 

The three dots reappeared. 

Ok. 

She sent you an address, and a quick check on your maps revealed a house that you’d never seen before in your life. It was somewhere off in the outskirts of the city, a long 3 hour drive from your place.

Meet me here at 2pm. See you.

You had questions for her, questions that needed answers instantly, but you decided to reserve them for the day itself.

The weekend rolled around quickly. You couldn’t sleep in the days leading up to your meeting… There was too much to think about.

The drive to the place was somewhat pleasant aside from your heart hammering in your ribcage. You ended up reaching 10 minutes earlier than the meeting time. In an act to not look desperate, you waited till the clock struck two before exiting your car. 

You rang the bell at the cargate and waited. Tje cat in the driveway looked like Joy’s, but you weren’t too sure. The gate opened after a few seconds, a rather loud grinding sound filling the air as it slowly rolled open. You entered the property, stepping around the car and heading towards the door. 

The door to the house opened as you approached. A little girl who looked no older than five stood before you, holding the door open with her tiny little body. You stopped in your tracks. 

“Who are you?” the child asked. 

“H-Hi… I-I’m looking for Jo—I mean… Soo-young,” you told her, “A-Am I at the right place?”

The girl stared at you for a bit before turning her head into the house and screaming, “MOM! SOMEONE’S AT THE DOOR!”

You felt yourself blush as you realised that you probably got the wrong address. 

“S-Sorry… I-I think I might’ve…”

You trailed off when Joy appeared behind the girl. You locked eyes with her. 

She smiled softly.

“Hey…” she greeted you, “Long time no see…”

You blinked, standing there like a deer in headlights. The girl looked up at Joy.

“Mom? Why is he staring at you like that?” she inquired. Joy laughed nervously. 

“He hasn’t seen mommy in a long time,” she explained, “Go inside and help mommy get our guest a drink okay?” 

“Okay!” the child beamed. She waddled into the house, leaving you and Joy alone at the front door. She opened the door a little wider and stepped aside. 

“Let’s talk inside,” she told you. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

“R-Right…” You replied. 

You took off your shoes and entered the strange domain. Old cabinet supporting new flatscreen TV, old book on new coffee table, old clock ticking away next to an even older photo… The place was furnished as if two timelines had collided in the same house. The place clearly wasn’t Joy’s judging by the numerous pieces of furniture that strayed ever so far from her taste. Many things seemed rather out of place, yet there was an oddly homey feel to the house. 

Soo-young led you to the couch and gestured for you to sit. She waited for you to settle down before seating about an arms length away from you. 

“So… How have you been?” she asked first. 

You shifted in your seat and replied, “I’ve been… Alright… How about you?” 

Pinnochio would be jealous of you. 

“I’ve… Been doing a lot of thinking,” she chuckled, “a solid five months of thinking… It’s more tiring than you’d expect…”

The sound of clinking tore your gaze away from Joy. The child came waddling back from the kitchen, carrying a tray that held two glasses filled with golden liquid and topped with a generous amount of ice. She walked past Joy and bee lined it for you. 

“Here you go sir! Apple juice!” she declared. You graciously accepted the beverage, the sickly sweet scent of the nectar wafting into your nose. 

“Thank you,” you smiled. The girl returned a smile before turning to Joy. Joy chuckled and lifted the glass off the tray with elegance. 

“Thank you Yeon-su,” she smiled, ruffling the girl’s hair with her free hand. 

“No problem mommy!” the child grinned, “can we go play when you're done?”

“Sure thing honey. Give mommy and her friend some time okay?” Joy requested.

“Okay! Don’t take too long!” the girl chirped before skipping away. 

Joy turned back to you. 

“She’s so precious isn’t she?” she mused. 

“I… How old is she?” you inquired. 

“Four. Going five in two months,” she answered. 

Four years… She’s had a daughter for four years. 

“Is… She adopted or…” you continued to probe. You knew that you were pushing boundaries here, but Joy didn’t seem to be uncomfortable.

“No… She’s mine,” she replied. You sat there in silence. Joy gave you time to process these new pieces of information in silence as she sipped on her apple juice. 

“So… You’re… Married?” you blurted. Joy laughed. 

“Married? God no!” she spat. 

You stared at the ice in your glass, the slowly melting solids an excellent representation of what your brain felt like. Nothing was making sense. Joy? A mother? You began to wonder how much you actually knew about her. 

“What…” you muttered, “Why… Why didn’t you say anything about this?”

You felt like an asshole for asking such a question. It sounded like it was expected of her to let the whole world know that she had a child. Joy sighed and leaned forward. 

“I… I was just getting to that,” she whispered. 

She swirled her apple juice for a bit. 

“Look,” she started, “I… I’ve been meaning to—”

“MOMMY!” 

Joy’s head instantly snapped towards the direction of her child’s voice. She set down her glass and bolted towards the kitchen. You quickly put down your glass and tailed after her. You followed her into the kitchen and stepped out a glass door into a backyard. 

“What is it, Yeon-su?” Joy inquired, worry in her voice. With a tear stricken face, the little girl pointed to a tree.

“My… M-My football!” she wailed. You looked up and quickly spotted the outline of the black and white ball. It was nestled in between two tree branches, perched like a bird in its nest. Joy drew in a breath. 

“Damn… That’s pretty high up,” she muttered. She looked back down at her child. 

“It’s okay Yeon-su, mommy will get you a new one,” Joy assured her daughter. 

“No! I-I don’t w-want a new one!” the child whined. “I want to keep this ball! No new ball!”

Joy pursed her lips. 

“Sweetie…” she attempted to allay her child. But her daughter was having none of it. 

“I WANT MY BALL BACK! I WANT MY BALL BACK!”

Joy squeezed her eyes shut, her forehead creasing as her brows furrowed. It’d been a while since you’d seen her this stressed. She looked like she was on the verge of letting out a cuss. You examined the tree again. It wasn’t too tall, growing maybe a centimetre or two above the roof of the house. 

Maybe it was your feelings for her, maybe it was your conscience… Something compelled you to act before Joy’s stress levels got out of hand. You walked towards the tree trunk and circled it, looking for a low hanging branch. You found one, muttered a quick prayer, then jumped and wrapped your legs around the bark to start climbing. The coarse bark provided ample grip, allowing you to quickly move up to the lowest branch and get atop of it. You straddled the branch, craning your neck upwards to see how far up the ball was. It wasn’t too far up. 

“H-Hey! W-What are you doing?” Joy asked, “get down! You’ll hurt yourself.”

You ignored her and climbed up to the next branch. You were grateful that its branches weren’t spaced too far from each other. You could use small bursts of energy and rest for a bit on each sturdy branch. 

You did your best not to look down, your hands already shaky and your palms sweaty from just the feeling of being high up. It didn’t take long to reach it, and a simple smack was all that was needed to get it off the tree.

Satisfied, you descended back down from the tree. Getting down was much easier than climbing up, but the fact that you had to look down made it feel harder than it should’ve been.

Even when your feet were on solid ground, your hands continued to tremble. Joy was waiting for you at the base of the tree, a sincere look of worry on her face.

“You okay? You’re really pale,” she checked in. You managed a nod. 

“I’m… Fine,” you assured her shakily.

“You sure?” she confirmed, “You look like you’re gonna shit yourself…”

You nodded once more. Joy’s daughter walked up next to her mother, a bright smile on her face. 

“Thank you mister!” she exclaimed.

You waved it off, beginning taking deep breaths to calm yourself down. Joy’s daughter turned to look at her mother. 

“I like him, Mommy. Can he be my new Daddy?” 

Joy looked like she’d just been shot in the chest. Her daughter looked up at her innocently, examining her mother’s face with an unwavering expression. She caught your gaze, a certain look behind her eyes. 

“I…” she trailed off. There was something going on behind her eyes, something unfamiliar and new. It was that unreadable expression, the same expression she’d fixed you with all those months ago.

Even now, you still couldn’t figure out what it meant.

Joy quickly looked away, blinking rapidly as she turned her daughter around. 

“Let’s go inside Yeon-su…” she instructed. 

“But you didn’t—”

“Let’s go inside,” Joy repeated. Yeon-su seemed to get the message. The fierce tone of her mother didn’t stop the girl from looking back at you as she walked back towards the house. Over her shoulder, the little girl gave you another one of those beaming smiles. 

For a brief moment, you couldn’t tell Yeon-su apart from her mother. 

You followed the mother-daughter duo back into their abode. Joy took her daughter upstairs to settle her down. Joy came back down a few minutes later. 

“I gave her a colouring book… That should occupy her for some time,” she mused, “Sorry for her behaviour just now… I didn’t expect her to—”

“What happened to Yeon-su’s father?” you interjected. Joy licked her lips and stared at her feet for a moment.

“He um… He left.”

You regretted asking. 

“O-Oh…” you muttered, “I-I’m… I’m sorry.”

Joy chuckled, but her laughter couldn’t hide the brief flash of pain that crossed her features.

“I-It’s fine…” she assured you, “the whole reason I asked you here was to show you Yeon-su…”

She raised her head, caught your gaze.

“She’s the reason I can’t date you.”

You felt the air grow heavy. 

“W-What?” you stammered. 

Joy let out a shuddering sigh.

“Look… I just need you to hear me out now,” she requested, “once I’ve said what I need to say… You’re free to go.”

Your silence was consent. Soo-young pursed her lips.

“I… I like you… I really, really like you,” she whispered, “I’ve liked you for a long time, and… I was so happy when you asked me out. It… felt like a dream come true…”

You remained silent to let her speak. She continued.

“I’ve always wanted to be something more with you, to be more than just friends with benefits… But… It can’t be that way, not when I have Yeon-su.” 

A tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, sniffling as she did so. 

“I… I can’t ask you to accept the fact that I have a child. I-I can’t make you just… Bear with the fact that I’m just some whore that got herself pregnant…”

Joy folded her arms over her chest and looked at the ground. There was mucus dripping down her nose that she didn’t bother to wipe. It pained you to see her like this—slowly breaking down in front of you in a moment of vulnerability. Joy had always been playful, naughty and a little cocky around you. You knew her as someone who had the perfect blend of beauty and adorability, someone who always had a smile on her face. Now she was revealing a new side to you, and she had chosen to show this side to you. 

In a way, you felt honoured. 

“And even if you could accept me for who I am and what I’ve done… I can’t ask you to accept that I’ll have to love my daughter over you at times,” she said.

She combed a hand through her hair. The unreadable expression had made its way back into her face. This time, you could see past it.

It was pain. Joy was in pain.

“I’m such an ass aren’t I? I’m making it seem like Yeon-su’s the one standing between you and me…” Joy chuckled bitterly, “That sweet girl did nothing wrong… This whole situation is my fault.”

You stood rooted to the spot, letting the wave of information and emotions wash over you. There were lots of things going through your head and your heart, it felt a little hard to breathe. Joy remained where she was, shoulder shuddering and quaking as she let her hair shroud her face. 

“So… This is why… We can’t date” she strained, “That’s… That’s all I have to say. You… You can go now.”

You watched her wipe her face with the sleeve of her shirt. There was a heaviness in your chest, a stone that weighed down on your heart as you realised that Joy had been battling with these thoughts for months. 

“Soo-young,” you called her softly. She shook her head. 

“N-No… Don’t say anything…” she breathed, “I think it’s best if we leave things here… No hard feelings, no regrets… No secrets left to hide.”

You could feel a tear make its way down your face. You wanted to respect her choice, respect her choice the way you did five months ago… But you couldn’t this time. You knew that if you left your relationship this way, you’d never be able to repair it ever again.

“Go to her…” A small voice in your head urged. 

No regrets.

You slowly walked up to her. With tender care, you drew back the curtains of her hair—pushing the jet black strands out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. 

No regrets.

Her cheeks were wet, eyes puffy and squeezed shut. Gingerly, you reached under her chin and tilted her head up. There was not much to say, but there was much to do. 

No regrets.

You kissed her—a tender, simple yet complicated gesture. 

No regrets.

Joy never made any attempts to shy away. She willingly melted into you, a small whimper escaping her throat. You held her in your arms, feeling each shuddering breath she took send small shockwaves through your chest. You held her in your arms, a buzz filling your head as you let yourself absorb her scent, her taste—the familiar things about her that felt strangely alien in the moment. 

You broke away from her, panting lightly as you watched her slowly open her eyes. You were both crying for your separate reasons, but there was a shared sentiment between the both of you.

We can’t leave each other like this. 

You kissed her again. This time, her arms wrapped themselves around your neck, pulling you in and inviting you to combine with her. There was a longing, a craving that had to be fulfilled. It wasn’t the usual animalistic desire you felt for her. Rather, it was a lust for her love, a want for her close proximity. You wanted her in your life. You wanted to wake up beside her, brush her hair out of her face and kiss her good morning. You wanted to hold her hand as you walked with her in the park. 

You wanted Park Soo-young. 

But could you really look past the fact that she had a child? Could you really see love for who she was? Could you accept that her ex could possibly swoop in and complicate your life?

Well… You wouldn’t know if you didn’t try.

You let your lips leave hers, a brief moment of silence filling the spaces between your laboured breathings. 

“Soo-young…” You whispered, her name rolling off your tongue like it did five months ago. 

“Y-Yea?” she answered, entertaining you. 

Your hands slipped down to her lower back. 

“What if I can accept that you got yourself pregnant by mistake? What if I can accept that you have to love your daughter over me? What happens then?” you asked. Joy sniffled. 

“It’s… It’s not that simple,” she told you.

“It can’t be that complicated can it?” you challenged.

She gazed into your eyes.

“Be honest with me…” she requested, “could you really do that?”

You felt a small smile lightly tug up the corners of your lips.

“Why not?” you challenged, “do you really look down on me that much?”

She giggled, tingling a part of your brain that seemed to remember her laugh so fondly. 

“Well…” she whispered, “I… I guess there’s no harm in… Taking a chance.”

With a bold hope in your heart, you breathed, “Then take a chance on me Soo-young…”

Joy closed her eyes and let out a breath. 

“Just… Promise me that you’ll take care of me,” she pleaded. You nodded. 

“I’ll take care of both you and Yeon-su,” you assured her.

“That’s too much to ask of you,” she reasoned. 

“It’s not,” you whispered, “It won’t be too much for me if we do it together.”

Joy gazed into your eyes, searching your soul.

“Look at you…Going full Prince Charming to woo me,” she teased you.

With equal playfulness, you replied, “But you like the attention don’t you?”

“Maybe…” she smirked.

You both fell silent for a minute. After a while, Joy finally nodded. 

“I trust you to keep your word…” she smiled, “let’s date.”

Your cheeks had never stretched like this in your life.

“Let’s date,” you echoed. Joy reached up and cradled your face in her hands. She pulled you towards her, pressing her lips against yours, and you kissed her back with the biggest smile. 

“Ew…”

Joy quickly broke the kiss. She looked past your shoulder.

“Y-Yeon-su! W-What… What are you doing there!” she squeaked.

You turned and saw Joy’s daughter sitting on the steps, watching intently. 

“I thought you said that you were only friends Mommy?” the little girl questioned. Joy pulled away from you. 

“O-Oh… I-I um…” she stammered. 

As if urged by some comedic timing, the front door swung open. A middle aged woman waddled in, arms ladened with grocery bags.

“Aish… I can’t believe that they were all out of eggs!” the lady grunted as a middle-aged man followed in behind her. 

“You know how supermarkets are honey…” the man sighed, slipping on a pair of sandals.

“Why is it so cold there anyway? It’s like winter—”

The lady stopped when she caught sight of you. Her gaze transferred between you and Joy. 

“Soo-young?” she called, pointing a bony finger at you, “who is that?”

Joy cleared her throat. 

“O-Oh, this is um…” she struggled to answer, “this is… My friend…”

“THEY WERE KISSING GRANDMA! DON’T BELIEVE HER!” Yeon-su unhelpfully inputted. 

“Park Yeon-su!” Joy chided. 

“What? I’m telling the truth! You always told me to tell the truth Mommy,” the daughter rebutted. She clearly took after her mother. 

“Tsk… I… We…” Joy stuttered helplessly. The woman waved it off.

“Aish, we’ll talk about it some other time,” she grumbled. She pointed at you once more and said,  “You. Can you cook?”

“A-A little,” you answered honestly. 

“Good. We need as much help as we can get,” she mused, “date my daughter for all I care. Just don’t abandon her and Yeon-su like that last one.”

She walked past you with her grocery bags in hand. Just like Yeon-su, Joy obviously got her temper from her mother.

“Get in the kitchen! We have to start preparing for the party!” the lady barked. The man sighed. 

“Pardon my wife’s behaviour… She’s always grumpy before these types of things,” he apologised. He walked over and freed up a hand to give you a handshake.

“Welcome to our home. I take it that you’re Soo-young’s new boyfriend?” he asked, gripping your right hand in a firm yet friendly grip.

“U-Um… Y-Yes,” you managed to sputter. He nodded slowly, scanning you from head to toe. 

“I’m her father. Nice to meet you,” he grinned. He had a booming voice, a voice that could make you shit yourself if you heard it in an alley.

“You should come over again next week… I’d like to get to know you better.”

He released your hand and gave you a pat on the shoulder. Joy’s father disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you stunned in your place. 

“They’re pretty chill, don’t worry,” Joy assured you, “we’ll worry about impressions later… Let's go and help prepare the food before Mom decides to behead all of us.”

Joy quickly jogged off to join her parents in the kitchen. As you moved to follow her, you felt a small tug on your pant leg. You looked down. Yeon-su gazed up at you.

“So… Are you my new Daddy?” Joy’s daughter inquired. You smiled warmly and crouched down so you were at eye level with her. 

“I don’t know… Do you want me to be?” you offered. The girl pouted as she thought for a moment. 

“I… I think that would be nice,” she told you, “Please take care of us.”

It felt like a shot of sunshine had been injected straight into your heart. You chuckled nervously.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best Yeon-su…” you told her. The little girl raised her closed fist and stuck out her pinky. 

“Pinky promise?” she probed. You stuck out your own pinky and hooked it with hers.

“Pinky promise,” you echoed, “shall we go help your Mommy prepare?”

Joy’s daughter nodded enthusiastically.

“Let’s go Daddy!” she squealed before running off to join the rest in the kitchen. You stared at the entrance to the kitchen, thinking about what you’d thrown yourself into in the name of love. You were gonna have to get used to it if you wanted to keep your word to both Joy and Yeon-su. 

Joy stuck her head out the door. 

“Hey. You coming?” she asked. You nodded and rose to your feet. 

With newfound energy, you joined your girlfriend in the kitchen.

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

As it would turn out, the food that you’d painstakingly prepared was not meant for you. 

“Every other week or so, my parents organise a neighbour gathering at our place,” Joy explained as she loaded a duffle bag full containing a few sets of Yeon-su’s clothes. She shut the trunk and scooped her daughter up into her arms. 

Joy had an arrangement with her parents. On the weekdays when she was working, Yeon-su would stay with Joy’s parents and attend school in the nearby kindergarten. On weekends, Soo-young would stay over at her parents place and spend time with Yeon-su. However, today called for special arrangements.

“Are we going into the city again Mommy?” Yeon-su asked, eyes pooling with hope. 

“Only if you want to,” Joy replied.

“Yay!” squealed the little girl in her arms. Joy smiled and opened the door to the backseat. She gently deposited her child into her vehicle and shut the door. 

“Everytime they have a gathering, I take Yeon-su into the city and we stay at my place,” Joy told you.

“So that’s why you have that guest room,” you mused. She smiled and fished out her car keys. 

“Excellent link Sherlock. Catch.”

She tossed her keys to you and rounded the vehicle to the passengers side. You chuckled and got into the driver’s seat. 

The drive into the city didn’t feel as long as it was. Once in town, you settled on a ramen place and had one of the best dinners of your life with Joy and Yeon-su. Of course, an excellent dinner called for an equally satisfying dessert. Yeon-su practically dragged you over to a Gelato shop that she’d spotted along the way and attempted to order a double scoop of sea salt caramel for herself. Unfortunately for Yeon-su, her mother stepped in and stopped the order from going through. 

In many ways, Yeon-su was a mini replica of her mother. They shared the same feistiness, had the same mischievous glint behind their eyes. Of course, good traits like respect had been passed down as well. Joy’s daughter dished out thanks and greetings to waiters like Oprah Whinfrey, earning her multiple smiles as your servers swooned over her. 

“I think she’ll grow to be a fine woman,” you mused, watching as Yeon-su deftly scaled up a playground ladder. Joy's head rested on your shoulder as she idly sipped her yoghurt drink. 

“You think so?” Joy inquired. You nodded. 

“Yea… You raised her didn’t you?” you asked. Joy chuckled.

“It takes a village to raise that girl…” Joy muttered, “I’m just glad that my parents are here for me and her… I don’t want to imagine what life would be like if I hadn’t gone back to Mom and Dad.”

You found her hand and laced your fingers with hers. You felt her smile on your shoulder.

She gave your hand a squeeze. 

“This is nice…” she whispered.

“Yea… It really is,” you chuckled. You were getting Deja vu from your time with her on the beach. 

“You know… Even though Yeon-su was an accident, I never regretted keeping her,” Joy confessed, “She’s… She’s the second best mistake I’ve ever made.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Second best?” you mused, “What’s your best mistake then?”

“Do you really have to know?” she teased.

“I’d like to,” you answered. Joy giggled.

“Well since you insist,” she smiled, “I think… My best mistake was arriving late for that board meeting and sitting next to you.”

You could feel yourself blushing. 

“Aw shucks…” you muttered, “Hold up… Which part about that was the mistake?”

Soo-young shrugged and replied, “I guess we’ll never know…”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. 

“Sly fox…” you muttered. Joy chuckled, clearly proud of herself.

Yeon-su eventually tired herself out. With leadened feet, she trudged back over to the bench and asked to be carried. You gladly scooped her up into your arms, and the precious girl fell asleep on the way back to the car. 

You found yourself back in the same apartment where you’d been rejected five months ago. You didn’t let the bad memory get to your head as you carried Joy’s daughter into the apartment. She was sleeping like a brick, snoring lightly as you laid her down on the bed of Joy’s extra bedroom. You slipped off her shoes, brushed some hair out of her face and tucked her in for the night. Joy watched you from the door, a fond smile on her face as she observed you. 

“Something funny?” you asked once you caught her looking. Joy unfolded her arms and pushed off the doorframe.

“Nope,” she answered, “let’s go. Let her sleep.”

You switched off the light and walked out the room, shutting the door behind you as you left. Joy had brought out her wine glasses and her favourite bottle of white wine that she usually kept for celebrations. She sat on her couch, silently swirling her glass in her hand as you approached. Under the ample lighting of her apartment, you realised how tired she looked. Faint, dark rings circled the base of her eyes, her expression one of weariness. 

“You okay?” you checked in, settling down and pouring yourself a glass of wine. 

“Yea…” she replied, “Just a little tired.”

You sipped your beverage and leaned back on her couch.

“Wanna call it a day after this?” you offered. She shook her head. 

“Nah…” she grunted, “I still wanna talk with you.”

Soo-young sat up in her seat and reseted her face on her palm. 

“I missed you,” she whispered. 

“Me too,” you vocalised.

She uncrossed her legs. Her elbows rested on her thighs.

“It’s kinda funny isn’t it?” she asked you. 

“What is?”

She sipped out of her glass and said, “We’ve come full circle. This apartment… We started here didn’t we?”

You chuckled softly. 

“Shit…” you remarked, a soft smile on your face.

Joy set her glass down on the table. With a sigh, she laid down, her head resting on your lap. 

“Here… I first let my feelings for you manifest into actions right here,” she breathed, “I never thought that I’d be back here with you as my boyfriend… This is so crazy.”

Her statement made you think about one of the many questions you had for her. You stopped fiddling with your glass and set it down. You let your hands fiddle with Soo-young’s hair instead. 

“Why didn’t you tell me the real reason when I asked you out here?” you quarried. Joy closed her eyes and sighed.

“I… Don’t know,” she told you, “I… I guess I was just scared.”

“Scared of what?” you probed. 

“I… I was scared that I’d lose you…”

Your hands stopped. 

“Joy…” you began.

“I-I know… It’s cheesy, it’s stupid…” she laughed bitterly, “I know I should’ve just came clean to you there and then, but I was scared that you’d freak out and leave me all alone…”

Joy clasped her hands together. 

“I… I guess I was just afraid that you’d do what Yeon-su’s father did to me…” 

You exhaled, a dull throb in your chest. Even though you knew where Joy was coming from, you still felt a little betrayed. It hurt to know that she thought you’d ditch her like that… But then again, you figured that you’d probably think in a similar way if you went through the things she did. 

You cupped Joy’s cheek, your thumb tracing the firm bridge of her nose. 

“It’s alright Soo-young,” you assured her, “let’s stop talking about the past. We should focus on our future together.”

She opened her eyes and gazed up at you. 

“Future?” she echoed airily. You nodded and replied, “Yea… Me, you and Yeon-su…”

She rose from your lap and sat up straight. 

“Are you… Really okay with being Yeon-su’s father?” 

You raised your eyebrows and leaned back into the couch. You had no idea how to raise a kid, let alone care for a child that isn’t your own. But for some reason, you seemed to have a connection with Yeon-su that enabled you to see her as your own. It was inexplicable, but it was there.

“It’ll take some time to adjust, but I think I can do it,” you declared. Joy laid back down on your lap and smiled.

“I think you’ll be a great Dad,” she told you.

“You think so?” you asked. She nodded.

“I trust that you’ll do your best to take care of her…”

She reached for your hand. You gladly gave it to her. With a tender smile, she held your hand above your face, fidgeting and fiddling with your fingers. You let her do as she pleased. 

She let the moment last for a little longer before guiding your hand to her breasts. She laid your palm atop the right side of her chest. You could feel something poking your palm.

“No bra?” you mused. She bit her bottom lip.

“I was hoping to get lucky tonight,” she whispered.

It all happened in a matter of seconds. Clothes were off, tongues were in mouths. Hands searched each other's bodies, grasping, groping—going about the process like you always did. It felt so familiar yet so fresh. 

“You sure Yeon-su won’t wake up?” you asked, brushing back the hair that fell in front of Joy’s face as she bobbed up and down between your legs. She let your cock pop out of her mouth, her hand delivering lazy but considerate strokes to your slick shaft. 

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” she assured you, “don’t you think you should’ve worried about this before I started sucking you off?”

“Probably,” you mused, “But then again, there’s always—”

A sharp gasp cut through your sentence as Joy shoved your cock between her ample breasts. The warmth of her mounds surrounded your shaft, hugging your cock perfectly as she began to move up and down, slowly grinding her chest against your slick, hard meat. Your shaft slid in and out between her breasts, her saliva providing an ample amount of lubrication. The size of her mounds was enough to wrap around your member. It wasn’t enough to make it fully disappear between her cleavage, but enough to bring you divine pleasure.

You were breathless, shocked by the pleasure Joy was giving you. She stuck out her tongue, making contact with your head and sending shocks of pleasure shooting up and down your spine. This was the first time she’d done anything like this. The unfamiliarity, the new sensations you experienced… Everything about it made your toes curl into the floor. 

“F-Fuck… Joy…” you groaned. 

“You like this don’t you?” she hissed, “you love watching me milk your cock with my tits don’t you?”

You nodded furiously. Joy smirked, hands squeezing her tits together even more.

For long, pleasureable minutes, Soo-young continued to push your rock hard cock in and out between her warm, slick tits. Her hands squeezed her tender flesh around your cock, fingers interlocking in front of your cock to keep you from slipping out of the lovely embrace of her cute, perfect tits. You watched Joy work, those doe-like eyes on that cheeky face, so warped with lust and need. It was hard to imagine that you were sharing a wholesome moment with her just minutes ago.

“Fuck… you’re gonna make me cum Joy.”

Joy started to speed up.

“Then fucking cum,” she replied. She squeezed her breasts even tighter around you, spearing your harder and faster between her tits. She pumped her chest up and down faster, ground her chest against you harder, bottomed out as low as she could. You could feel your orgasm surging up your shaft, rapidly making its way from the base of your cock and seizing control over your senses.

“Soo-young…” you strain. 

“Give me all your cum baby. Fucking paint me…”

Then it hits like the full force of a Tsunami. You felt every single burst of hot semen that shot out from your shaft. The first rope spilled out past Joy’s breasts sending hot, warm cum up her collarbone and onto her jaw. She leaned her face back, letting the rest of your semen cum paint her upper body. Rope after rope covers her chest, some high flying shots hitting her face as she relentlessly continues to take you between her tits. 

It's only when your hand roughly grips her scalp that she slows to a stop. As you laid there panting, she took the time to clean your seed off her body. Cum gathered in her hands, disappearing into her mouth as she cleans herself thoroughly. 

“I missed making you explode like this,” she giggled, rising up to her feet. 

“Could… Tell…” you managed to retort through your laboured breaths. 

She straddled you atop the couch. Her hands cupped either side of your cheek, pulling you into a deep, burning kiss that seemed to still your pounding heart. 

“Let me know when you’re ready,” she rasped, moving down to give your neck some attention. You responded by grabbing a handful of her ass, gently kneading and squeezing the juicy flesh, relishing the feel of it spilling out past your fingers.

Her hand finds your shaft. Your hands hold her waist. 

“I’ve been thinking about you so much,” she told you, “I know I said this before but… I missed you.”

You let your hands roam her curvy body, making sure to linger in all her sensitive spots. 

“I’ve missed you too Soo-young,” you answered truthfully, “It’s been difficult…”

She raises her head, her eyes meeting yours. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I… I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You cupped her cheek, your thumb gently rubbing some saliva off her face.

“I know Soo-young… You’d never hurt me…”

She remained silent and lined your tip with her slit. She looked at you for permission, and you gave her a nod. She sank down onto you, your head splaying her slick, flushed lips as she impaled herself on your cock. A long, drawn out sigh leaves her mouth while she fills herself with your cock. You hold her steady, supporting her slim figure as her ass touches the base of your crotch.

Joy leaned forward. You met her with a kiss. Your hands played with her nipples, pinching and twisting to your heart's content as you made her moan into your mouth. She started to grind against you, letting her walls stretch out around your throbbing cock while her breath mixed with yours. 

She’d ridden you multiple times. In the office, in a chair, on the beach… But this was different now. This was more than just a search for pleasure, a carnal flurry of thrusts and cusses… 

There was no other way to describe it. It was love.

Joy raised her hips, drawing your shaft out of her body before coming down once more. She established a tender, slow rhythm as she rode you, grinding her warm, tight body against yours while her sighs filled your ear. You leaned against the backrest of the couch, drinking in the sight of Soo-young taking you in and out of her body. She rode you slowly, enjoying every entry and exit of your shaft, relishing the feel of your cock filling her to the brim.

Her slim, tight body rolled. Her perfect, alluring breasts bounced. The muscles of her thighs and hips contracted and relaxed on either side of you. Her hot body grinded against you, your shaft spearing her tight folds as she fucked herself on your cock. A long string of gasps and moans streamed from her mouth, punctuating every squelch of her dripping pussy and emphasising each thrust you made into her body.

“Fuck,” she manages to say, “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed your cock...”

She started to ride you harder, faster—but only a little. You began to feel her pussy tightening around you, the telltale sign of her orgasm building inside her, leaking from her core to every part of her tight body. You brought your mouth hand to her left tit, sucking, licking, assaulting her flesh with your mouth. You drove upward slightly with your own hips, crashing your bodies together just a little harder, a little faster…

Joy’s hair flew behind her head as her head whipped back. 

“Oh fuck!” she cursed, sweat splattering the couch as you slowly brought her to new levels of pleasure. You could feel her racing heartbeat in her pussy, throbbing and pulsing around your cock as she continued her gradual acceleration. She doesn’t stop, her moans and gasps rising in volume in a gentle gradient. Her juices leaked down your shaft, fluids being swirled around the inside of her body as your shaft drives her closer and closer to the edge.

For the first time, Joy orgasmed silently. Her body tensed, her arms locking around your neck as her mouth freezes in the shape of an “O”. Her throat muscles seize, her walls squeezing and pulsating around you as you flushed her against you. It took a long minute for her to come down from her high, but you would gladly hold her tight, bare body for as long as she required. 

Her sweat stickied skin peels off yours. She found your lips once more, digging her tongue into the depths of your mouth. You let her regain her breath, gently caressing the curves of her delicious body as she rested atop of you. 

“Alright…” she finally whispered, “Where do you want to fill me?”

You instantly looked over at the window on your left. Joy followed your gaze, a gleam in her eyes.

“Full circle…” she mused, sliding off your shaft and walking over to the window. Her chest pressed against the glass, her ass sticking out, inviting you to enter her once more. You walks up behind her, slapping your still hard shaft against her ass cheeks. 

“Fuck me,” she hissed.

And you do just that. 

You pumped softly, slowly, enjoying every sensation that you experienced. Joy let her pleasure be known to you, a steady stream of airy sighs leaving her throat as you fucked her. Her palms pressed against the glass, leaving imprints like the rest of her naked body. Her fingers curled into the pane, releasing the pleasure that you gave her. The glass fogged with each breath she took, her sweet voice slightly muffled by the glass.

“Just like that… Fuck me… Fuck me honey.”

“I’m close” you grunted. Joy hummed, thrusting back onto your cock.

“Do it,” she whispered, her eyes cast over her shoulder as she held your gaze, “cum in me. Fill me. I’m… I’m yours…”

Your second orgasm for the night arrived. With one last thrust, you groaned and sent stream after stream of hot semen spurting into Joy’s willing depths. Soo-young let out a soft gasp as you empted yourself inside her, the heat of your seed flooding her freshly fucked pussy. Her body relaxes, slumping against the glass as you paint her insides white. 

It took time to recover. When both of you did, Joy met you with a glowing smile.

“I love you,” she whispered. Your cock slipped out of her pussy, warm cum slowly leaking out of her slit. 

“I love you too Soo-young…” you sighed. She tilted your head towards her, engaging you in the nth kiss for the night. 

Clothes were gathered and tossed into Joy’s room—There was a child in the house after all... Beneath the sheets, Soo-young cuddled up next to you and rested her head on your chest. 

“Good night,” she wished you, “wake me up when you want to tommorow…”

“Alright,” you answered, “sweet dreams Soo-young…”

Your hand rested on her head, gently combing through her sweat matted hair. You felt her smile against you. 

Things weren’t going to be the same for the both of you. From tomorrow onwards, you’d officially enter the day with Joy as your girlfriend. While the prospect was exciting, it admittedly scared you to no end. This was more than just a relationship between two people… There was a kid as well. You had to take care of both of them, and it wasn’t going to be easy.  But you knew that things would all be okay. You weren’t sure what made you feel oddly calm about your new predicament, but you weren’t stressing over it. 

With Soo-young by your side, you had a feeling that everything would be alright in the end. 

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

Whats goodie my gang. I decided to try something new with this fic, hope you guys like it :)). Thank you for stopping by and I will see you soon.

[firesnap]

i have a genuine question. i promise i am not at all trying to defend him. ive dropped him entirely, literally deleted everything i had of him and unliked his songs.

ive just been wondering like considering that he has been in therapy, and also considering how if he does take a year off and then comes back, why cant it be redeemable? like cant people change? cant we give them second chances? he is 27. is he just doomed to be an abuser forever?

its just scary and im asking as like a younger person who is in my very early 20s. i know ive made mistakes. i know ive not been a good partner or friend sometimes. (and yes i was also abusive to a past partner...im not proud of it and ive learned from it. i have never ever touched anyone in that way after that. it took awhile but my current relationship isnt toxic and i would never hurt anyone or hit them again yknow?) and it scares me that people keep insinuating that he is irredeemable. like cant abusers change and become better? dont they get second chances? if shelby has grown and healed in 10 months wouldn't it be fair to say the same for wilbur?

im just genuinely asking because based on everything i believe you are older than me and im looking for guidance and just...idk im scared. growing up on the internet has made me so scared of making mistakes and doing anything wrong because when it happens to others i look up to, its always treated as something they'll never be able to change or improve. makes me feel like imma just be a horrible person forever because i made mistakes in the past.

This is a really complicated question that multiple answers can validly fit.

I don't think, personally, that anyone is irredeemable. I think everyone is on a journey of forgiveness and some of us may need more grace than others.

This is tw// abuse even more than the current topic, but my mom was incredibly abusive. We lived in a very rural area and she had a lot of undiagnosed problems and trauma of her own that created a pressure pot of issues. After I was born, she suffered through full on post-partum psychosis that nearly ended about as well as that sentence implies it could have. She was incredibly violent, controlling, and cruel for years. My sister went no-contact with her the second she turned 18. A significant event occurred that eventually spurned her into seeking real treatment that lasted for years. It's still ongoing.

My sister is also still no contact and I support her decision 100%. Those are her wounds and what she needed to do to get peace should be respected. I decided I wanted a relationship with the person who came out of all that work and, even then, it's been hard. I don't know if she's redeemed herself, and my god do we still have bumps in the road, but I support her for trying.

With Wilbur, how he responds to this is going to really impact a lot of things. I mean, I know no matter how he responds I won't be going on whatever journey of redemption and healing he has to go through. I'm tired and I feel hurt enough. I would think, if he wanted to show he was sincere, admitting what happened would be a great sense of closure for a lot of people who put time and energy and faith into this guy for years.

Not every person that causes harm is inherently evil, but there has to be some kind of knowledge that you're aware of the harm you've caused. No one is stuck as anything forever, life is constantly moving, and most people aren't saying his life is just over. You can work on yourself. You can change. And I'm saying that specifically to you, anonymous.

(Saying this, actually, there ARE people who would argue once you've done x you're beyond redemption based entirely on their life experiences as a victim, personal histories and many other factors. Kinda like my sister, that's their choice. And you have to accept that sometimes you fuck up so badly that you will permanently lose some people from your life. But your life isn't over.)

But I do think, regardless of what he says or does about this, his time of controlling a large platform is at an end. He can still do a lot of things in his life after he works on himself -- editing, song producing, directing, writing or whatever -- but being in charge of a large impressionable audience that could enable more destructive behaviors is just not it.

[neetily]

Party For Two — (SDV) Sebastian

— ✧ warnings: love confession, mutual masturbation, premature ejaculation, creampie, fingering — ✧ word count: 6,077

— ✧ A/N: reposting some favs from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.

It’s the usual hang out night, held at your farmhouse this time round because you insisted on doing your fair share of hosting, only, Sebastian can’t help but feel that it’s anything but usual. What was meant to be a four person TV series watch has now turned into a party for two. Sam, currently sick with allergies and Abigail, busy trying (and most likely failing) to beat ‘Journey Of The Prairie King’— something that Sebastian is sure will take more than one night of attempts, she’s already been stuck on it for a week... And well, he can’t really fault Sam for not wanting to make anyone else sick. If anything, he’s thankful to be the only one to show up besides you. It’s not really that bad of a turn out, not when he’s been secretly wanting to spend more alone time with just you and him anyway. Because see, he’s always been interested in you ever since you first came to the valley, and it’s as time’s went on and you slowly assimilated into his little trio friend group that he found himself thinking: yeah, four is a better number anyway. A small crush, he tells himself. Nothing serious, he jokes with Sam. No I wasn’t staring, he whispers to Abi. But deep down, he knows exactly what he feels, and as you finally come back into your living room with excitement in your eyes he knows it to be true— he wants to see that face every day going forward.

“Sorry for the wait!” You smile, his eyes drawn to your blushed cheeks when your attention is immediately focused on the TV in front of you. Tonight seems like a good time to confess, because while he certainly wants to do other things with you, it’d be rude not to make his intentions clear in the first place. To be a gentleman, and at the very least provide courtesy before anything else, smiling warmly back at you while you busy yourself with getting comfortable next to him. He likes you, and he’d be a fool not to take advantage of the opportunity right in front of him. Alone, with you. There really isn’t a better scenario to confess in, is there?

“S’all right,” He half-grunts as he repositions himself to be more facing sideways so that he can keep looking at your pretty face, as he always does. “You ready for the next episode?”

“Yes!” You beam back at him, remote control in your hand as you glance at him for what he thinks is a final time tonight before starting the weekly show, so he does his best to respond in kind. It’s one that the group had decided to watch together, and though Sebastian wasn’t that interested in the premise, he did enjoy the thought of spending more time with you, which is why he mostly agreed to join in the first place. He’s grown to like the show more anyway, though he’s unsure if that’s down to the (honestly, pretty mediocre) cinematography or because he gets to stare at you for an extended period of time each week. Lovingly, of course, he’d hate to come off as a creep. Always cautious about his looking, but feeling unable to control his desires for too long before he’s eyeing you up and down again. He always waits to dive deeper into his thoughts of you until he’s home at least, mostly because he can’t stand the thought of popping a boner in front of so many people and to be left unable to live it down for the rest of his life, but also because he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable at all. Would rather the boner scenario to making you feel any negativity in any capacity. “I’m so glad Sam and Abi said it was cool to continue, I’ve been waiting all week to see what happens next!”

Ah, yeah, the romantic plot line or… Something. It’s difficult to pay attention to the current story when his vision is so full of you each week, but he’s heard you chat about it enough to get a good idea of what to expect next. The protagonist and her love interest, finally, seemingly getting together. It’s cute to see you so invested in something, and he too finds himself thankful that his friends have allowed the continuation of the series in the privacy of a company of two. “Yeah, real nice of them, huh?” He continues out of pleasantries, knowing just how much you wanna get started. Sam promised to watch the episode himself, all bundled up under blankets in his own living room— Sebastian knows his best friend is probably practicing guitar instead, and Abigail will be too stubborn to give up gaming for a show she can catch up on when you ramble about it in the group chat later. Still, there’s comfort in the space they’ve provided him, his chest warm and gaze half-lidded as you press play, the shows intro sequence filling the remaining small space left between two bodies.

He’d like to fill that space with himself, eventually.

Even during the admittedly drawn out intro you’re cutely engrossed, the glow from the TV shining in your eyes so prettily, like there were stars or something, and he cringes at his sappy internal monologue. You’re still far more interesting to watch than whatever the screen is currently showing, and he takes his time when committing every detail of you to memory tonight. The innocent way your eyes are glued to the screen, the unknowing smile on your face as your favorite character shows on screen, the way you edge just slightly off your seat as if to get closer, closer to the screen instead of his arms. He huffs impatiently, low and quiet to himself at the thought. What he wouldn’t give to have you in his lap instead, he’d even still let you watch your favorite show, so long as he could hold you. Softly touching you, kissing the top of your head as a reminder that you are wanted. So deep in his thoughts of you that he doesn’t even realize how much time has passed— it can’t be that much— but he distinctly hears a moan that drags him back to reality. A soft but sinful one, his head snapping to the source of the sound as his cheeks instinctively flush. It’s coming from the TV, an intimate sex scene including those two characters you like so much. Already? He thinks to himself, so much for tension, before he finds his eyes once again falling on you, and he gasps a little at the sight that greets him.

Too many times he’s spent lonely late nights imagining exactly how you look right now, curled up in on yourself as you avert your gaze from the screen with an almost shy look on your face. Honestly, he never thought you’d ever optionally look away when this show was on, but he thinks you’re embarrassed. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face at the realization. It is a little awkward to be watching a sex scene with your friends, he can admit that. But he finds it difficult to feel uneasy himself, too amused at the way you clear your throat as the moans continue to fill the otherwise silence of your living room, keeping his vision locked on you to see exactly how you react to the explicit scene playing out with curiosity. Something he can use again you in the future.

“We can skip past it, if you want.” He offers before really thinking, his heart pace quickening as he tries his best to resolve your discomfort. Sure, it’s fun to watch you struggle, but all he wants is for you to be happy. “Really, I don’t mind—”

“No, it’s— I mean, it’s okay, really.” You stumble over your words, flashing him an appreciative smile before lowering your head once more to the ground.

Well, okay, he thinks. You’re clearly struggling to get through the scene, and though he’d rather you welcomed his help with open arms, he doesn’t mind watching you grow increasingly riled up by the exaggerated gasps and sighs from the show. In his more perverted mind, it’s easy to imagine that he’s watching porn with you right now, a quick look back at the TV screen shows naked bodies rolling around together, sharp inhales and teasing giggles. He wonders if you’d react the same way to him, then just as promptly he corrects himself and knows he’d have you moaning louder than that. And deep down in the pit of his stomach, or a bit lower than that, he feels as though this is his chance to show you that fact too, sighing to himself as he tries to resolve his inner conflict— and obviously fails. Because it’s about you, and he hasn’t a hope in Hell when it comes to you.

“You sure?” His voice is soft, spoken lightly and carried with faux reassurance while his hand stretches out to meet your trembling thigh, sucking air in through his teeth at the way you jump from his touch. “I don’t mind, cause it seems to be… Getting to you, y’know?” He smirks through his words, knowingly teasing you despite his heart wanting nothing more than to soothe. Can’t help it, you’re too cute like this, all blushy and pouty thanks to his words. And given the chance, he’ll do more than just soothe things for you anyway, so he doesn’t feel too bad in his taunts. He notices your thighs squeeze together in response to his words, or maybe it’s because of his feather light touch, he doesn’t mind either way. Regardless, his cock stirs in his tight pants at just how easy you seem to be, how innocent and sensitive you’re acting, shying away from his view at just how quickly he’s picked up on the state of you. You like this scene, maybe a little too much, huh? Not that he’s complaining, his own heart racing at just the light drag of his knuckles up and down your leg, catching the way you shiver into him, the small bite of your lip that causes his cock to jerk against his leg. Ah, maybe confessing can wait a little bit longer.

It takes him a moment to find his voice again when you refuse to answer, and he’s surprised to hear the breathy tone he carries with his words— “You can… Y’know, deal with it, if ya want.” He pauses, gauging your reaction to his invitation to touch yourself. Internally, he’s debating on his next words with extreme caution. Sure, it’s normal to masturbate, everyone does it, everyone knows everyone does it. But, is it too weird to talk about it with your friends? Maybe only if they’re the opposite gender, right? Because he’s had countless conversations about the topic with Sam, but never with Abigail. And he realizes then that it’s because he’s got a crush on you, and rather than it being an invitation, it’s an attempt at begging. “Really, I don’t mind.” He simply settles on, smiling reassuringly at you when your eyes finally meet his. And it’s true, he doesn’t mind, would relish the opportunity to relieve himself in private too if he’s honest— the look you’re giving him going straight to his cock as he imagines fucking his friend right on the very couch you sit on.

And then quietly, almost inaudible, he hears you squeak: “Really? You’re okay with that?” and he all too eagerly nods.

“Absolutely. Who am I to judge what you get off to, right?” He half laughs, attempting to make the otherwise awkward situation just a bit less embarrassing for you, shifting in his seat to hopefully make his hard cock less noticeable. “Take your time, I’ll be right here—”

Oh, wait, you’re undressing right in front of him? Instinctively, he looks at your face for answers, a quick flit up only to be met with a playful grin. Seductive, maybe? He knows better than to assume, though more than that, he knows better than to speak up when your crush is taking the first step towards assumed intimacy. Well, there’s no hiding his hard on now, is there? Your bold actions causing his pants to feel even tighter, his hands frozen in his lap while he carefully watches you peel off each individual layer of clothing slowly. So slowly that he’s convinced you’re teasing him, the continued gasps and groans emanating from the TV fading into the distant background as he instead favors listening to the soft shuffles of your clothes, the muffled thud as they’re dropped carelessly to your floor. Fuck, he already thought you were pretty before, but seeing you take action like this almost makes him dizzy with how attractive he finds you, and his inability to take the initiative back from you due to how in awe he is of your body only further turns him on. He knows you know well enough that he hadn’t meant to take care of “business” right here and now, in front of him on your well worn couch, but he can hardly complain at how you chose to mischaracterize his words when he’s no better than you are right now. “I—” he tries to speak. “I mean— fuck, okay—” He’s laughing, though not at you, and your cheeky side smirk back at him lets him know you understand.

“Is this okay?” You whisper at him.

“Shit, yeah, no, it’s cool. I— I don’t mind, go ahead.” He struggles to get the words out fast enough, but he smiles back at you when hearing your nervous giggle.

Without realizing, he anxiously runs his hand through his hair, thumbing stray strands out his face so he has a better view of your revealing body. The last item of clothing drops and he exhales harshly, unaware of the breath he was holding up until that point. You’re naked bar your underwear, and he curses low under his breath at the mere sight. This is confirmation, isn’t it? That his feelings aren’t just one sided, that he was taking too long to confess and so your hand was metaphorically forced, swallowing hard at the sight of your hand actually dropping to pet lightly at your clothed cunt. “Fuck y’can’t just— I mean I want you to it’s just—” He’s already gasping, replaying scenarios he’s fucked his fist to at night but coming up empty. Nothing compares to you right now, the cute blush on your cheeks, the way your lips part with heavy breathing. Shit, okay, he needs to tell you exactly how he feels. Wide palmed stroking at his painfully hard cock, no shame left in his system when you’ve just given him a wordless go ahead, he’s ready to cum just from your show of want— but he instead just teases himself. Wants to really show his appreciation of you soon enough, but first he needs to take control back. You’ve had your fun, now let him.

He clears his suddenly dry throat while you angle yourself towards him, biting your lip to presumably stifle moans. No, don’t do that, he thinks, cocky confidence taking over his mind with the understanding that you’re waiting, seeking his command like a good girl— and he’s all too happy to give in to you. Watching you drag a single finger up and down your clothed slit idly, eyeing at the growing wet patch near the bottom, fuck he wants a taste— “You can take em off.” He quickly glances up at you, but as if physically pulled back down, he’s drawn to look at your cunt again, his palm circling against the clothed wet tip of his cock as he leaks precum all over the inside of his pants for you.

And though he’s controlled mostly by his cock right now, he’s still a little surprised to see you listen to his words, his voice coming out in a shocked rasp of “Fuck, you’re really doing it…” which is less of a question and more of an admiration. Because yes, while this is the single hottest thing to ever happen to him, he also genuinely likes you. Wants to be with you for more than just this, but a little indulgence never hurt anyone, right? Seems you agree from how eagerly you get moving, his eyes glued to the spot between your legs as you hike them up a little, knees pressed to your chest to give him such a good fucking view, oh my God, of your pretty little cunt before your panties peel and drop to the pile of your other clothing on the floor. His cock hard and wet, drooling over his legs enough to prompt him into at least unbuttoning his pants to offer just a little relief— only a little. Because he’s more focused on you right now, and how pretty your thighs look when pressed together like that, and how tasty your wet little cunt looks as he finds it difficult to keep himself sat in place at the other end of the couch from you, wanting only to dive head first between your legs to eat you dry— he’s never been hornier than he is right now, and it’s all your fault. He’s got front row seats to the best show in the house— you, and he’s filled with need to show you that you’re a lot hotter than whatever they were showing on TV.

“Touch yourself, please— God,” He ends up begging, too turned on to really care for the embarrassment of sounding so needy, and it seems you’re much the same. A small whine escaping your lips that, he swears, almost makes him cum on the spot. So completely fraught with need for you right now that his body automatically turns to face you, one leg bent and pressed against the back of the couch while the other hangs off the edge, his rock hard cock front and center for you to masturbate to— no regret present on his features as he looks to your moving fingers with glazed over eyes, his mouth remaining slightly agape while he breathes shallowly. This is so much better than anything his mind could create, his chest tight with want for you and his balls full of seed, the palm resting on his cock now digging harder, circling his cock faster in a plead to have you match his pace. You must know what you do to him, otherwise you wouldn’t be taking your time so slowly, bitting on the inside of his cheek with impatience until your finger finally meets your slit and your legs magically open. And fuck, what a sight that is. His hips jut up on their own accord once you’re in position, head tilted back slightly as if to try and calm himself down before snapping back to watch you part your lips and drag a finger from bottom to top on your slit.

No amount of porn could have prepared him for this, the intimacy present in each glide of your finger up and down your cunt, collecting the slick drooling from your hole to drag it back up to your clit. He can hear just how wet you are, heart caught in his throat as he swallows thickly in concentration. “You’re not watching the show…” You mewl, and he has half a mind to pin you under him right there and then.

“Don’t care, this is better.” He’s quick to moan. “Can you— Can you go a little faster?”

You nod, and he has to fight with himself to keep his eyes from rolling back into his skull at the sweet sounds you let out at the increased pace. His fist wraps tight around the bit of cock he can reach before he grows immediately frustrated and instead digs his hands under his pants to free his cock some more, sighing into the relaxed feeling of freedom until he once again starts to palm at himself— then he’s tight lipped groaning. He feels like a dirty pervert, touching himself to you touching yourself, and he wonders if you feel the same. He thinks you should feel like royalty, the full effect you have on him in clear display as he touches himself to you, struggles to keep his hands to himself when you sound so pretty for him. And you’re such a good listener too, his cock jerking to the understanding that you want to please him too, fucking your little cunt faster as per his words, your palm sticky with slick that he wants to lick all clean for you.

He can’t hold back much longer.

“Do you mind if I—?” He asks, alluding to his cock as he nods down to it— still clothed, still rock hard and needy, still leaking precum, still wanting to be balls deep in you.

A quick nod of your head and he’s pulling his pants off faster than he’s ever done in his life, boxers coming with them as he clumsily tugs them off enough to kick them the rest of the way, throwing them into his own pile of clothing on the floor to half match your state of nakedness. He hisses into the cold air that kisses his tip once free, almost moaning as it slaps against his tummy with how rigid he is. “So fuckin’ hard—” He hums, mostly to himself, but he’s happy you’ve heard him too given the soft moan you let out too. “Look at what you did to me, fuck, what you do to me—” He praises you, leaning back against the armrest of your couch to fuck his hips forward, just a little, as if to really show off just how much he wants you, his fist quickly connecting to the base of his cock before he’s dragging it upwards to collect the copious amounts of precum you’ve pulled out of him and pulling back down, coating his whole length wet to tug at. And he’s not shy about it either, too far gone with the lust pooling in his tummy to care much for anything other than the need to get off, to get off with you. As he always does, really, even if most nights he’s alone in doing so, but now’s his opportunity to show you how much he likes you— cock hard and ready just for you, because of you.

He doesn’t mind an audience as he jacks off, so long as that audience consists of you. Hurriedly fucking his fist to a desperate tempo to try and quell the butterflies that fill his chest every time you make a sound, pulling the hem of his hoodie up to reveal some of his toned tummy for you to gawk at, to somewhat return the favor. God, you sound better than he thought you would, his own moans caught and quiet as he does his best to instead make room for you, to listen intently, ignoring the loud schlick of his fist pumping up and down on his dribbling cock and rather focusing on the wet squelch of your little cunt. How fast your fingers fuck into yourself, how he hopes to God you’re thinking of him, wanting to replace your fingers for his cock as he so urgently needs to. No words are said, not that he can think of any anyway— head empty and replaced with primal need, wanting moans shared among friends as he gets off with you. How he wishes he could speak though, to tell you how hot you are, how he’s dreamed of this for so long, how he’s so close to cumming just from watching you— doesn’t even have to be touched by you, just being in your presence is enough to get him off. And he’s focusing so hard on the way you flick at your clit, how fastly you circle against it, learning exactly what you like so he can hopefully mimic it at a later date all while he’s thrusting into his tightly closed fist and mumbling your name like some sort of prayer.

He’s getting dangerously close, and he hasn’t even been able to appreciate you like you deserve, show you exactly how he feels about you. And so—

“You wanna— wanna ride me?” He ends up choking out, acting out of pure instinct and talking before fully realizing his words, eyes rolling to the back of his head despite his best efforts when instead of verbally responding, you start climbing towards him. All of it happens so fast, his knees buckling and straightening out on the couch, sliding further down the length of it so that only his head remains on the armrest and you have plenty room to sit on top. His hands work on autopilot, finding home on your hips to help steady you above his lap as your nails rake up his tummy, digging under his hoodie to drag it further up his chest, causing him to moan into the hunger of your actions. Urgency is what he feels, desperate for the feeling of you wrapped around him as you immediately take hold of the base of his cock as soon as you can, his hips bucking into your touch to seek the tightness of your hole, unable to stop the tense moans tumbling from his open mouth. “Fuck, that’s it, guide it in— Sit on it, yeah?” he hopelessly babbles, fingers digging into the fat of your waist to try and pull you down his cock as you catch the tip to your hole— and then he’s done for. Completely at your mercy as you slow the tempo down, gradually fucking more of his length into your little cunt with subtle bounces until he’s all the way inside and he can finally breathe again. It’s difficult keeping himself held back enough not to hurt you when you feel better than anything he’s experienced before, his jaw strained and appreciative moans high-strung as he wills his hips to still for a second or two, let you grow accustomed to his fat length.

It takes him a second to actually collect his breath though, mind clouded by how tight and warm you are wrapped around his stupidly hard cock— so much so that it’s impossible to form any coherent thought as you sit flush on his lap. “No idea.” He manages to mumble, groaning at the seductive way your breathe huh? in response. Causes his hips to fuck upwards into you regardless of his best efforts, trying to thrust deeper into your tiny hole until there’s nothing left for you to take and grinding his hips against you. “You’ve got no idea how much I’ve wanted this, fuck.” His hands dragging your waist down to circle you on his cock for you, doing all of the heavy lifting simply because he can’t stop. “Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ inside of you, shit, y’feel so good—” he continues to gasp, his ass lifted off the couch under him to really drive his cock further into you. The action causing you to whine his name so perfectly, so sweetly as he circles his cock in you that he’s forced into more movement. Like something inside of him snaps, the last remaining resolve he has to treat you right falling the moment he hears his name sounding like that. And then he’s going, his beg for you to ride him thrown out the window as soon as he thrusts once into you, instead forcing you to fall back down on his cock with every precise hump of his cock into you, bouncing you up and down at his own pace due to how powerful and needy his thrusts are. You’re not riding him so much as he’s fucking you from below, keeping you pinned close to his cock so that he’s barely exiting your perfect cunt despite humping you into the air. He holds on to you like his life depends on it, a droning whine escaping his lips at the increased friction he fucks into you with, spilling loads of precum against your insides that inevitably end up running back down his cock with each speedy thrust. And your tits, God your fuckin’ tits, hypnotized by they way they bounce with his fucks— so badly does he want to reach out and grab one of em, drag it into his mouth for him to feed on while he fucks you raw— fuck he’s fucking you raw. A rough growl clawing up his throat at the thought, feels too fucking good to warn you of his predicament, can’t stop fucking into you like he was under a spell.

A shuddered “Tight little cunt, yeah? Feel s’fuckin’ good, shit— Look so hot riding me like this—” cut off only by a gasp at the sound of you so needy for more, his cock throbbing inside of you with want to preform but he’s so close it almost pains him to hold back. He was right, you are louder than the show girl, self assurance running through him and going right to his tip with the confidence that he’s fucking you better, the loud skin on skin slap resonating in the room to drown out whatever is left of the TV. He’s never felt so good before in his life, unable to even imagine going back to a life of just his hand now that he’s had a taste of your cunt, the feeling of your legs squeezing around him as you attempt to match his speed only to inevitably fail from how frantically he thrusts into you from below is too fucking cute, his balls tight and taut as he nears his end before he’s even truly started: something that would be embarrassing if not for the fact that he hopes you understand it’s because you really do feel that fucking good and he’s genuinely that in love with you that he can’t— he can’t hold back any longer. Fucking his dream girl while she displays herself so completely on top? The sight of your tits, your cute scrunched up face, the feeling of your cute little cunt sucking his cock so well? Yeah, there’s no way he was gonna last very long.

“Sorry— M’sorry, babe—” he whines, a high pitched sound to match his eager humps as he’s unable to stop the predictable from happening, looking directly into your eyes in hopes of communicating just how badly he wants to make it up to you immediately following as he thrusts into you a couple more times, fast and hard, burying himself completely into you before shooting a fat load deep inside your tiny cunt. A soft sob of your name followed by loud, gasped moans, like he’s forgot how to breathe again, his hips still obsessively humping into you to prolong his orgasm— the best of his life, might he add— and to fuck his cum deeper into you in some sort of innate need to claim you, insides and all. He said he was sorry, but he isn’t really. Not even when you let out a pathetic whine from the loss of stimulation, promising you: “Jus’ a minute, gimmie a sec.” With harsh pants as he allows himself to come down just enough to move back into action. He wants to act fast, to build upon what he’s just promised you.

“C’mere,” he breathlessly pleads with you, signaling for you to hop off his cock for a moment, forgetting all about the mess his cum will surely stain into your couch. “Jus’ sit right there, trust me.”

And because you’re a good girl, you listen, and he tuts affectionately down at you to soothe the pout you’re sporting. “Lean back a bit for me, yeah? Let me apologize.” He whispers, soft and flirtatiously, helping to guide you into position on your back, similar to how he was just moments ago while he hovers over you. The confused stare you look back at him with is so cute, and he can feel his mushy affection for you edge back in as his cock controlled brain starts to calm down, now focused solely on making sure you’re seen to as his dominant hand dips and disappears between your legs. Not a second later and he’s collecting the dripping cum he’s just fucked into you from your hole, using it as lube to rub gently at your clit as you look at him with shock. “Told ya.” He smiles, rubbing soothingly at your inner thigh with his free hand while he strokes your puffy clit. “Sensitive girl, made me feel so good, fuck— Y’look so pretty like this,” he dotes on you, hoping his words will help you get off where his cock failed— though he doesn’t think you mind too much. Not with how your grasping so insistently to his loose hoodie for stability, or from the way your legs wriggle and draw him closer, the room filled with your enticing moans each time he completes a circle on your clit. Now, with a clearer head and with you quite literally in the palm of his hand, he coos down at you with intent. “Think I love you. Really.” And he can’t stop the loving smile that tugs on his lips, nor the surprised sigh that sneaks up on him as he feels your locked thighs tremble around his back.

Next time, he’ll have you cumming on his cock. He has to, the sight of your back arching into him, the lewd expression you wear so well with the voiceless moan, fuck, he can feel his cock harden again just from pleasing you. His heart full at the thought that hearing his confession is what finally made you cum, humming quietly down to you while he finger fucks you through your high, thumb still rubbing lightly against your used clit while you gush for him— “So pretty, good girl.” He compliments you, praising you for a job well done in getting him off and satisfying his need to see you finish, too. It’s all he wants, really. To make you happy by any means necessary, and he’s happy to fill the role you had him play tonight any day, gently helping you come down from your high with slowly decreased movements until you lazily smile back at his adoring expression.

“Feelin’ good?” He asks calmly, because he obviously knows the answer already, but he wants to check in with you regardless.

You nod sleepily, followed by a soft “Mhm, thank you.” Before reaching you arms out for him to lean into, and he enthusiastically gives you what you’re seeking, his half hard cock resting against your sticky cunt as he wraps his arms around you too, pulling you in for a tight hunched over hug on your (now) stained couch.

Better than any show ever, he’s sure.

“I meant it, y’know.” He whispers against your neck after a silent moment, nosing further into it until he’s able to place a few light kisses against your heated skin with a smile.

“I know.” You reply, and he can’t help but remain hopeful when you squeeze his body tighter, wrapping your legs around him further to ask for more closeness. “But you made me miss my favorite show, so…”

He laughs a genuine, deep, bark of laughter against your shoulder before he huffs defiantly, pulling himself off your exhausted body with the intent on chastising you for alluding to the fact that your show is better than his sex, but he can’t find any strength left in him to tell you off after catching sight of how pretty you are when all fucked out. So instead, “I know, I’m sorry.” He relents, sitting back into his original side of the couch to stretch out a bit. “We can try watching again after a shower, if you want?”

“Yeah.” You yawn, and his heart hurts with just how much he loves you. The simplistic domesticity of the moment getting to his head as you extend a hand for him to hold, to help you get to your feet. “I’d like that.”

He’ll just have to get your return confession out of you… After your show.

[shiinata-library]

Imagine: They know you can’t sleep at night

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when you can't sleep well during the journey.

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Used to camping or not, sleeping outside in Middle-earth was something else than sleeping in your late comfortable bed in your world. 

Thorin

Even though Thorin clearly noticed you’re tired every day, there is nothing he can do. Too many things to worry and think on this journey before looking after you. Gandalf wanted you to join them, so he has to take care of you.

Except that the wizard is always lost in his thoughts and doesn’t notice your tiredness, or you hide it well. 

In truth, travelling on a pony is not tiring, especially because you always share it with a member of the company and they know how to keep you awake with their fun story or songs. 

Not sleeping the night, otherwise, it’s more tiring! The East Road is harder and colder than you thought. And of course, you don’t have any modern, comfortable material. Who could sleep on this ground with just a blanket under you and another on you?

But, you don’t want to trouble anyone so you stay quiet about it. Everyone has other things to do than babysit you…

One day, at the surprise of everyone, Thorin offers to share his pony with you. To give the other ponies a rest, he said. As you don’t want to argue and you’re quite happy to ride with him – even if it’s embarrassing – you do as he said and sit before him.

As Thorin rides in the front, you can’t hear what the others say. Luckily, it’s not raining so it’s calm and peaceful. You can admire the landscape while Thorin manages the pony’s reins.

At some point, you wake up in a startle. Thorin just has the time to slip an arm around your waist to avoid you from falling. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” you hurry to say, looking around you and noticing thanks to the sun that you slept for a while. “I shouldn’t fall asleep!” 

Your cheeks are burning, but you feel so well-rested now. Maybe it’s because of his comfortable, fluffy coat, or the peaceful atmosphere, or his warming, relaxing smell…

“Stop moving or you will fall,” he sighs as he holds you tighter to him. “I-I’m sorry!” is the only thing you can say.

“We’ll stop in two hours,” he says as you understand he means you can sleep again. “But, I don’t want to bother you. What if I fall and take you down with me?” you murmur as you feel his arm around you adjusting, making you blush, of course.

“I hold you. Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs in a regal, convincing voice. Then, as you lean against him like before, you fall quickly asleep. Maybe riding with him was the best solution so that you can rest…

N/A: Or sleeping with him on the ground. We can easily find other solutions, right?

Fíli 

Since you had left the Shire with everyone, some nights were more tiring than others. Hard, cold and wet ground is not your favourite thing, but you could have recovered in a few inn, or in great places like Rivendell or Beorn’s house.

But after that, Mirkwood is quite a challenge. The nights are almost totally dark with weird noises and a feeling of always being watched. You’re not scared because the company is close to you, especially Fíli since he decided the forest wasn’t safe enough to let you alone even for a minute.

So when the spiders attack, you don’t have the strength to defend yourself. When the elves capture you, it’s the same. I think you're the last person they capture since they know you won't do anything. Very embarrassing…

Woman or not, you're thrown in a dungeon like the dwarves, no special treatment! The place is not comfortable but it’s dry and no sooner do you lie down than you fall asleep.

“Let me see her!” “She may hurt!” “It’s a woman, don’t let her in this place!” You wake up, still tired like when you have slept for too long and your body doesn't know where it stands. You hear Fíli yelling from a cell far away from you. You don't know how long he's been shouting, but his voice sounds tired.

As you start to wake up, you hear your door’s cell opening and someone entering quickly. Fíli knells before you and puts his hand slowly on your upper arm. “I was just sleeping, Fíli. I’m fine,” you smile as you sit up slowly.

Fíli hugs you suddenly, his mouth coming closer to your ear. “I know you were sleeping but I needed to see you,” he whispered, holding you tightly. “I know you need sleeping but I didn’t know if you were hurt, and those elves–” 

“I’m fine,” you cut him off before he gets angry. “And I’m safer here than in the forest.” 

You laugh until you notice you’re the one one. Fíli ends the hug and looks at you, “You’re safe only when I'm with you. I will stay here with you. Now you can go back to sleep as much as you need.”

“Thanks…” you can only say, too embarrassed by his words as you lie down, looking for his hand to hold. Now he is with you, you truly feel comfortable to sleep for days.

N/A: Oh, it’s more fluffy than I planned. 😅

Kíli 

“You can sleep between us tonight if you want,” Kíli says one day after he saw you yawn several times in the afternoon, winking with mischief. He caught up with you on his pony with his brother not far behind. 

“Maybe in your dreams,” you answer with a smirk, making everyone who heard you laugh. Even Bilbo smiles. 

But little did you know that your answer would trigger a new form of amusement for the dwarf. Not a day went by without a similar remark when he saw you yawning. And as you don’t sleep well on a hard, cold ground, you yawn a lot…

You always laughed with him, inventing new answers making the others laugh, until your tiredness almost cost your life. After the trolls' exhausting night, you decide to sit down against a tree while the company explores the trolls’ cave. After a night like that, you could rest anywhere. So even if you didn’t want it, you fell asleep. It’s only when Radagast arrives that you wake up. 

Half awake, you hardly understand what is happening. When the company starts to run, you try to follow them but all the fatigue you have accumulated over the last few days is making your movements slow and difficult. Some dwarves want to help you but Thorin’s yellings convince them to continue to run. You notice a few arrows flying next to you, killing the orcs closest to you until you end up alone in the middle of nowhere. A few orcs notice you and quickly run after you. Even if you look around you, there are no traces or voices of the company, only the yells of the orcs.

At this moment, you only have your hands to defend yourself, or your feet to run. But Mahal, Yavanna or any god from here had decided otherwise. A group of elves on horses arrive just in time to save you. They bring you to Rivendell where the company is regrouping in a circle. 

During the conversation between Gandalf and Elrond, the latter helps you get off his horse. Gandalf smiles like you never saw and before you can say anything you feel two strong arms pulling you in a hug. Before you can say anything, you hear in a trembling almost crying voice, “I thought I lost you!”. Some incomprehensible words follow with quiet cries. You don’t know how to react so just close your arms on the dwarf you have recognised as Kíli, stroking his back to calm him.

“I’m fine,” you say with a smile as you look at the company, all still worried about you. “I’m a burden. You had no choice but to abandon me.”

“Don’t say that!” Kíli shouts as he pulls back to see you, his eyes still wet and red. “You’re not a burden! You were only tired and we left you alone…” He suddenly cups your two cheeks and pulls your forehead against his. “I promise we won’t abandon you again! And you’ll sleep next to Fíli and me every night! No negotiation!”

You can’t help but laugh at his attitude while you hear his brother sigh as he shakes his head.

N/A: I made him cry again. Oops! 😏

Bilbo

The ground is hard and cold at night. The morning dew is coverding you every morning. You don’t remember the last time you bathed. But well, do you have any other choice?

Oh yes, you have thought of walking back and to the Shire, but you can’t abandon them. So you stay quiet, enjoying the journey anyway. The days, when there is no rain, are fun. The company is fun and enjoyable.

However, there is one who doesn't mind complaining! Recently, a day hasn't gone by without Bilbo asking to stop at an inn. At first, he was asking politely, but now he just grumbles when the night falls.

It’s always a funny situation, especially when a dwarf hears him. “We’re sorry the ground is not to your taste, Mr Baggins,” some of them say. “Do you want some feathers for your pillow, Mr Baggins?” asked one of them when they plucked birds for the evening meal.

Of course, you try to hide your laugh, but Bilbo saw you every time. As you're in the same situation as him, you don't want to laugh, but the dwarves' remarks are always so unexpected that it's hard to hold back. So to take his mind off the situation, the two of you often have a chat before sleeping - even if you're a long way from sleeping. 

Yet, one day, Thorin decides to stop in a town to buy supplies and allows everyone to stay at the inn. As you have no money, you share your room with Gandalf and as no dwarf wants to share their rooms with Bilbo, he joins yours.

We won’t lie. It’s the best night for so long. A warm bath, wine with your meal, a bed. You even forget how comfortable a bed can be! Your room is far from what you used to in your world but it looks perfect at this moment: warm, dry, and with a bed.

“This is the best breakfast I ate for a long time!” you happily say in the next morning. “No offence intended, Bombur.” The cook dwarf smiles, understanding what you mean. You devour your breakfast like the company next to you.

“Did you sleep well, Y/N?” Fíli asks, nudging his brother with a smile. “Oh yes, very well,” you answer with your mouth full. “I was so tired, the timing was perfect! I’m glad Thorin let us sleep here.”

“I’m sure it's not uncle you should thank,” Kíli says with a wink, making the other laugh. You stay a moment motionless, frowning in incomprehension. “Did you sleep well, Mr Baggins?” Fíli follows up, laughing at the hobbit’s reaction.

Bilbo was listening without a word until he heard his name, choking on his breakfast. As you all stayed in a Men’s inn, the furniture are too big for him and he had to put cushions under him to get to the table, bringing him to almost the same height as you. You quickly notice his cheeks becoming pink as your smile gets bigger. Oh, and don’t lie. Your cheeks are pink too. 

“Oh, right! I should thank you, Bilbo,” you start, calling him by his first name as he had asked for a long time ago. You take his hand and squeeze it warmly, making his whole face pink. “I could never have slept in that bed if you hadn't asked so many times. I think I owe you.”

When Bilbo can speak again, he shakes his head, “No no no. You owe me nothing. I-I need a bath and a bed too!”

Then the others laugh and start speaking of something while you watch the hobbit resume his breakfast. Maybe you need to find something to thank him, but what? 

N/A: What would you give him to thank him? 😏