#the constant trying to keep pace and peace.

[thinkinginpen]

Just A Guy With Claws And A Bad Attitude

a/n: Second fic in the same 24 hours? I honestly impress myself. pairing: logan x reader w/c: 4.4k warnings: age gap, smut, p in v, loss of virginity, love, kissing, romance, dirty talk, etc. summary: You and Logan are on a mission in France and decide to take a break at the hotel, eating pizza, and watching a movie when things get out of hand

You and Logan were in France, on a mission that demanded much of you. A grumpy old mutant, Logan was perpetually cranky, but you had your jobs. The two of you were to keep watch for a looming invasion, the kind to threaten mutants. Your duty: Sound the alarm.

The air felt oppressive as you two worked silently, the impending danger a constant, lurking presence. Every so often, you'd steal a glance at Logan, his grumpy face fixed in a perpetual scowl as he scanned the surroundings.

The silence was eventually broken as Logan's voice cut through the air, gruff and tinged with sarcasm. "At this rate, we'll die of boredom before the invasion even gets here," he grumbled.

You gave a small, sympathetic smile at Logan's comment, understanding his frustration but maintaining a gentle attitude.

"Patience, Logan," you replied, your voice soft and kind. "We're doing our best to keep an eye out. I'm sure we'll spot them in no time."

Logan's scowl softened a bit at your response. He grunted in acknowledgement, but the usual edge was missing from his voice when he spoke again.

"Easy for you to say," he murmured gruffly. "You're not the one stuck here without any booze to pass the time."

You chuckled lightly at Logan's remark, amused by his ever-present desire for alcohol. "A little boredom won't kill you, Logan," you said, still speaking gently. "How about we just enjoy the peace and quiet while we can?"

Logan grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "easy for you to say" again, but he didn't argue further. The two of you continued your watch in companionable silence, the tension in the air slightly alleviated by your calming presence.

"I meant back at the hotel silly! We could do our own thing, maybe order some food and watch a movie?"

Logan blinked at your suggestion, a look of surprise crossing his gruff features. The idea of a change of pace clearly intrigued him, but he tried to cover it up with his usual grouchiness.

"Food and a movie, huh? Sounds like you're trying to spoil me," he mumbled, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You couldn't help but smile at his response, seeing past his gruff exterior to the man beneath. "Just trying to keep things interesting," you replied, your tone still soft and kind. "Think of it as a little break before the invasion starts. Besides, you need a proper meal in you anyway."

Logan grumbled again, but it was more for show at this point. He knew you had a point regarding the food - even his enhanced healing factor couldn't run on an empty stomach. Plus, the idea of a break was growing on him.

"Alright, fine," he relented, feigning grumpiness. "But I get to pick the movie."

"I don't mind at all," you responded, a faint smile on your lips.

Together, you and Logan finished up your watch and made your way back to the hotel. Once back in the safety of the hotel room, Logan immediately went to the mini fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He took a long swig before turning to you.

"How're you likin' being an X-Man?" He asked as he scrolled through movies.

You chuckled and took a seat on the bed, looking at Logan with a warm smile. "It's been quite the adventure," you responded. "I don't regret it one bit. Helping people is all that matters to me."

Logan hummed, selecting a movie from the list. "That's the difference between you and me, kid," he muttered, his tone more thoughtful than grumpy now. "You've still got that fire, that desire to do good. I've seen too much crap to be that idealistic."

"What's for dinner?" He asks, setting the remote down as he sits in a chair nearby the bed. Meanwhile you were sitting on the fresh white sheets.

"We can order something from room service," you suggested, reaching for the menu on the bedside table. "They've got a decent selection - pizza, burgers, pasta…"

"Pizza sounds good," Logan replied, taking another swig from his beer as he watches you flip through the menu. "Extra-large, load it up with toppings."

"And make sure they throw in some of those garlic knots," he adds with a slight smirk. "Order me a drink too, would ya?"

You chuckled softly and nodded. "Extra-large, fully loaded pizza and garlic knots coming right up. And I'll get you another beer, just for good measure," you said, pulling out your phone to order the food.

Once the order was placed, you set your phone aside and settled back against the pillows, looking at Logan who was still in his chair beside the bed. The room was quiet for a moment, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning.

"You know, Logan," you said softly. "You may not be idealistic anymore, but you still care about doing the right thing. You just have a different way of showing it."

Logan huffed, his usual grumpy expression covering his face again, but you could see the hint of a vulnerable look in his eyes.

"Don't go gettin' all philosophical on me," he grumbled, but his voice lacked the usual bite. "I just do what I do, that's all. It ain't that deep."

You smiled softly and shook your head. "It may not seem like it to you, but a lot of us look up to you, you know? Your experience, your strength, the way you never back down from a fight… It's impressive," you said sincerely.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, his usual grumpy expression faltering slightly under the sincere compliment.

"Don't go putting me on some kind of pedestal," he grumbled, his voice gruff. "I'm just a guy with claws and a bad attitude."

A few minutes later, there is a knock on the hotel room door. Logan gets up to open it and you can already smell the scent of pizza and garlic knots wafting in from outside.

"Damn, that was quick," Logan mutters as he grabs the food from the delivery guy and closes the door again, making his way back inside with the goods.

"They definitely didn't skimp on the toppings," you note as Logan sets the boxes of pizza on the table. The pizza is piled high with all kinds of delicious ingredients, and the garlic knots look mouth-wateringly good.

"Looks like they even threw in some extra garlic sauce," Logan says, eyeing the knots hungrily. "Let's dig in."

You get up from the bed and step over to where Logan is sitting. You grab a plate and begin carefully placing slices of pizza onto it, the cheese stretching like melted strings.

As you finish, you smile softly and walk over to Logan, presenting the plate to him with a cold beer by it's side. "Here you go," you say softly. "All loaded up just the way you like."

Logan looks up at you, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He wasn't used to being treated like this, and it made him uncomfortable in a way that was new to him.

"Thanks," he gruffly mutters, taking the plate and the drink from you. He tries to cover up the vulnerability with a gruff demeanor as he takes a bite of the pizza, the flavors instantly hitting his tongue.

You step back and grab a slice for yourself, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you begin to eat. The pizza is hot and cheesy, the toppings blending together nicely, and the garlic knots are as delicious as they looked.

The room is silent for a moment, filled only with the sounds of you two eating. But it's a comfortable silence, the tension lessened by the distraction of good food.

Once the initial hunger is satisfied, Logan sets his plate aside and grabs the remote, switching on the television. He starts scrolling through movies, looking for one they can watch together.

"I suppose you want something lighthearted, right?" He asks, raising a brow as he continues searching through the selections. "Can't stomach any violence or something?"

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "I can handle a little violence, Logan," you assure him. "Just nothing too depressing, alright?"

"Fair enough," Logan mutters, still scrolling through the options. He seems to find one that meets the criteria and stops scrolling.

"How about this one?" He asks, showing you the screen. It's an older comedy movie, something light and fun.

You nod in approval, recognizing the movie as a classic. "That one works for me," you say with a smile.

Logan nods and clicks on the movie, starting it up. He sits back in his chair as the opening scene begins to play, his body relaxing slightly as he sipped his beer.

You get comfortable on the bed, your back propped up against the headboard as you watch the movie. The comedy helps lighten the mood in the room, occasionally drawing soft laughs from you and even a few gruff chuckles from Logan.

During a quieter moment in the movie, Logan reaches for his beer and takes a long swig. He glances over at you and notices you're watching him with slight envy.

He smirks, his voice gruff as he speaks. "Don't even think about it, kid. You're not 21 yet."

You pout slightly, realizing you've been caught. "Oh, come on, Logan," you protest. "Just one sip. I'm not gonna get drunk or anything, I promise."

Logan's gruff chuckle fills the room as he shakes his head. "Nice try, kid, but the answer's still no. I'm not gonna be the one who gets you drunk underage." He takes another swig of beer, a smirk still on his face as he continues watching the movie.

You cross your arms and pout slightly, clearly unsatisfied with Logan's answer. "I may not be 21, but I'm an adult," you argue. "I'm allowed to make my own decisions, even if I'm not old enough to drink legally yet."

Logan rolls his eyes and takes another sip from his beer. "You're old enough to be an X-Man, not a barfly. Trust me, you'll be better off waiting a few more years before you start drinking."

Logan glances at you out of the corner of his eye, his smirk growing. "Oh, you're an adult now, huh?" He teases, his gruff voice tinged with amusement. "Just because you can make your own decisions doesn't mean they're all smart decisions, kid."

You huff, still not happy about being denied alcohol. "I'm old enough to fight in wars and risk my life for the world, but I can't have a little sip of beer?" You complain.

"Hey, I don't make the laws, kid," Logan replies with a shrug. He takes another swig of his beer, knowing full well how much it is irritating you.

As the movie continues to play in the background, you continue to pester Logan about the alcohol. But with each sip he takes, he becomes more relaxed and more willing to give in to your persistence.

Finally, he looks over at you with a grin, his eyes a little hazy from the alcohol. He motions for you to come closer, patting his lap. "C'mere," he slurs slightly.

You hesitantly get up from the bed and make your way over to Logan's chair, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension in your eyes. As you get closer, he grabs your wrist and pulls you onto his lap, his movements slightly shaky from the liquor.

He looks up at you, his gaze intense and slightly unfocused. "You want a taste, huh?" He murmurs, his voice a low rumble in his chest. He lifts the beer bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig, then pulls you closer.

Without warning, he captures your lips in a kiss, the taste of beer strong on his tongue as he lets the alcohol pass from his mouth to yours.

The kiss is intense and possessive, his hand gripping your wrist tightly to keep you close.

The taste of beer and Logan's tongue mingling together is almost overpowering, and your head begins to spin from the unexpected intensity. Your hands instinctively grip the fabric of his shirt, trying to keep yourself steady as the kiss deepens.

After a long, dizzying moment, Logan finally breaks the kiss, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. He looks at you with hazy, almost feral eyes, his grip on your wrist still tight.

"Damn, bub," he mutters gruffly. "You really need to be fixed, y'know that?"

You look at him, your breath coming in quick, shallow gasps, your world still spinning from the kiss. "What… what do you mean?" You manage to pant out, your voice shaky from the mix of alcohol and adrenaline.

"You," Logan grumbles, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. "You're a pain in the ass, you know that? A beautiful, stubborn little pain in the ass."

He looks up at you, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly dazed expression.

"Can't just let things be, can't just relax and enjoy the moment," he continues, his voice gruff and slurring slightly more with each word. "You always gotta push, gotta test the limits, gotta get what you want."

You manage to find your voice again, your words coming out in a soft, slightly shaky whisper.

"N-no, Logan," you reply, your eyes wide and fixed on his face. "I just…just wanted a taste. I didn't expect all this…"

Logan smirks, his hand moving up to cup your chin, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his earlier gruffness.

"Oh, don't worry darlin'. I can be a pain in your ass tomorrow morning when you wake up, and the morning after that, and the morning after that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with alcohol and desire.

His eyes roam over your face again, taking in your flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips. "If that's what you want, anyway," he adds, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Might be a little sore, though," he continues, his smirk widening into a grin. "You up for a little soreness in the morning?"

You swallow hard, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach at the implications of his words. "Y-yeah," you manage to stammer out, your voice cracking slightly. "I…I can handle a little soreness in the morning."

Logan's grin widens even more, his eyes darkening with lust. "That's what I like to hear," he says huskily. "A little pain, a lot of pleasure. That's what you want, ain't it?"

"Yeah," you whisper, your voice shaky as you meet his gaze. "Yeah, that's what I want."

"Good," he smiled reaching for your blouse and taking it off of you.

His fingers hastily worked through his buttoned down shirt before exposing his bare chest to the cold air of the room.

You placed a hand on his thick veiny arm. "Logan..?"

He immediately stopped, sensing you having second thoughts. "Yeah bubba?"

"I-" You paused, "Do you think I'm too young? Maybe I should find someone my own age?"

He chuckled and shook his head, "Like who? A silly school boy? Fuck no, baby. Silly school boys can't do what I can."

"Logan I'm just saying-" He hushed you with a finger.

"Hush baby girl, the answer is no."

With that he closed the windows.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips gently. Of course, he deepened it being as gruff and experienced as he was. But you were young and had no clue how to act. You let him guide you into a bliss.

Your hands moved to his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin.

"Good girl," he muttered against your lips. "A young man can't make you feel like this princess. I can smell your arousal."

He nipped at your lips as he continued working his fingers on your pants. You felt amazing, perched on his lap, kissing this big strong man who could take care of you, as he unclothed you.

With a swift and skillful tug, your pants were suddenly on the floor, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable on his lap. His hands roamed over your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Logan's breath was hot on your neck as he murmured, "So damn beautiful. Young and sweet… and all mine, princess."

You shivered as his calloused hands traced over your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your own hands gripping onto his biceps for support.

"Logan," you whispered, your voice already shaky. "I…"

"Shh," he hushed you, his lips finding their way to your neck. "Don't think about anything but this, baby girl. Just feel."

You gave into the moment, lost in the heady haze of arousal and desire. You surrendered to his touch, his kiss, letting the intensity of the moment wash over you.

His lips were firm and dominating on yours, his tongue delving into your mouth with a hungry possessiveness that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, large and calloused against your smooth skin, each touch sending waves of sensation through you.

This was wrong. You knew it was wrong. Yet it felt so right. You were being taken, claimed, by this older, rougher man, and you couldn't help but surrender

The taste of him, the musk of his skin, the scrape of his stubble against your chin as his kiss continued to deepen – all of it was driving you crazy. You could feel yourself getting lost in him, your body responding to his touch like it had a mind of its own.

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, drawing paths of fire across your body. You were on fire, burning for him, consumed by the passion that was building between you.

You could feel the desire building, the heat between your legs growing stronger with every second. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, his hands and lips working some kind of magic on you, bringing you into a fever pitch of need.

You could feel the roughness of his jeans against your bare thighs, a reminder of the difference between the two of you – a young thing, untried and inexperienced, and a man, older and world weary, with enough knowledge to drive you wild.

His hands moved to your hips, shifting you so you were straddling him, your bodies pressed as close as humanly possible. His mouth moved to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses downwards, his breath hot against your skin.

You whimpered softly as he nipped at your collarbone, the sensation sending another wave of desire through you. Your hands were tangled in his hair, your fingers gripping it tightly, holding him closer, as if you couldn't stand the thought of him moving even an inch away from you.

His kiss was dominant, his touch possessive, but there was a tenderness there, a care that you hadn't expected. It was as if he was taking care of you, claiming you, but also making sure not to hurt you too much.

The thought only made you more aroused, more desperate for him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your body against his, aching for more. You could feel his hardness against you, a silent promise of the pleasure that was to come.

Finally, he pulls back from the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looks down at you. A wolfish grin is plastered on his face.

"Damn, darlin'," he mutters, his voice gruff and raspy. "You're a feisty little thing, ain't ya?"

He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, his grin widening as he takes in your flushed and disheveled appearance. "Look at ya," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your body. "All messy and needy, just from a little kissin'."

He cups your chin in his hand, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "You like that, princess?" He asks, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper in his eyes. "Like the way I make you feel all riled up and wanton?"

You nod, unable to form words, your body still buzzing from the kiss and the way he was looking at you. "Yeah," you manage to whisper, your voice sounding small and breathless.

He chuckles softly, his hand moving from your chin to trail down your neck. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down to your bare chest. “You like the way a big strong man like me can make you feel so small and weak. Like you belong to me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as he pins you down on the bed, his body looming over you. He looks down at you with a wolfish grin.

"That's right, darlin'," he growl, his hands on your wrists, holding them down on either side of your head. "You're mine. Mine to take care of, mine to tease, mine to pleasure."

He holds your wrists with one hand, while undoing his belt with the other. You watch with fascination, and a hint of trepidation, as he pulls the belt slowly out of the loops of his jeans.

His jeans slid down his leg followed by his boxers.

His cock sprung free and your breath hitched. "You're getting ruined tonight, pretty girl." He whispered before pressing the head of his member to your entrance.

You whimpered grabbing onto his bicep.

The next thing you knew you were being stretched open by his length, letting out precious cries.

He wiped your tears of ecstasy with his large hands only adding to your arousal.

He pushed you further down into the bedsheets, the back of your head buried in the pillows.

His hips thrusted forward, your back arching as he let out loud grunts.

"You're doing amazing baby," he muttered into your ear. You let out a gentle moan, your hands tangling in his hair as his stubble brushed up against your cheek.

"P-please," you whispered.

A grin spread across his face, "Are you close sweetheart? Do you need daddy to fuck that cunt a little more?"

You whimpered, your nails pressing into his skin. "I-I think so... Oh god- Please just a little more Logan..."

The second you opened your mouth he was moving faster and more violently. Then his hot seed poured into you, and you were ruined.

Ruined on these white bedsheets. Ruined for the first time. Ruined, no longer innocent. Ruined by this older man.

A long gasp escaped your throat.

"Did you enjoy yourself hun?" He murmured into your ear.

"I..." You nodded. "I did, thank you."

You laid down in his arms not prepared for another round for a long while. You were still processing all that had happened.

He got up to take a shower.

After a moment of silence, you hear the bathroom door open and close, the sound of the shower turning on following soon after. You're left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the aftermath of what just happened.

You lie there, staring up at the ceiling, your mind swimming with a flurry of emotions. There's a mixture of pleasure, confusion, and a hint of shock at what just happened.

The sound of running water continues from the bathroom, a constant reminder of the man inside who just took you to heights you'd never before experienced.

You're still trying to process everything – the feeling of his body against yours, the way he moved, the way he made you feel. The way he called you 'his.'

You listen to the sounds of the shower, the water drumming against the tiled walls. You can picture him in there, the soap suds running over his muscular, scarred body, the steam rising around him.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the shower stopping, and the bathroom door opening again. A moment later, Logan appears in the doorway, steam billowing behind him. He's got a towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair is damp and tousled.

He grins when he sees you on the bed, sprawled out and still recovering from the intensity of it all. "Hey there, princess," he says, his voice low and gravelly. He walks over to the bedside and looks down at you with a hungry gaze.

"Looks like I wore you out," he chuckles. He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair out of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

"But you look damn cute all worn out," he adds, his smirk growing wider. He lowers himself onto the bed beside you, his weight causing the mattress to dip under him.

He props himself up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in the sight of you, still naked and flushed in the aftermath of their encounter. “You doin' all right, baby girl?”

You nod, managing a slight smile. "Yeah," you whisper, your voice still a little hoarse. "I'm just…processing everything, I guess."

He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you against his chest. You can feel the warmth of his skin against yours, the heat radiating from him like a furnace.

He nuzzles his face into your hair, inhaling deeply. "You smell good, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and gravely.

"And you're so damn soft," he continues, his free hand roaming over your bare back. "So soft and warm, just like a little kitten."

You shiver slightly at his touch, the sensation both comforting and arousing. You press yourself closer to him, relishing the feeling of being enveloped in his strong arms.

He continues to murmur in your ear, his words now growing more heated. "And that little body of yours….so tender, so responsive, all for me," he whispers, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

His hand runs down your spine, sending little jolts of electricity through your body. "You're mine now, princess," he whispers into your hair. "All mine. My sweet, little thing."

He wraps both arms around you, holding you close to his broad chest. You can hear the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat, a comforting rhythm in the quiet room.

Wrapped up in his embrace, his warmth and strength surrounding you, you feel safe and cared for. The worries and fears of the mission fade away as your eyes grow heavy.

Before you know it, you're slipping into a deep and peaceful sleep, your breathing slow and steady, your body completely relaxed in Logan's strong arms.

🏷️: @vintagemoss

[persy-r-bozo]

Sitting here silently emotional about red guy again beacuse him in transport hit a little. Just a wittle

too close to my severe anxiety home.

[wandasfavv]

Keep It Steady

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Meeting an older woman through a dating app wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, especially one that’s newly divorced and experimenting.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Inexperienced!WandaxFem!Reader, fingering(r receiving), oral(r receiving), fingers in mouth, overstimulation, soft sex that turns rough, Servicetop!Wanda, fluff and angst, matched each others freak tbh

Sunlight shone through the thick glass of the car with the two of you inside, hitting your back as it accompanied the warm sensation within your body. Heat escaped your lips and into the other woman’s mouth, a constant motion for trying to find air between the deep exchange in which led to the sound of a device loudly announcing itself in the front pocket of Wanda’s pants. As you were positioned on top of her, straddling her lap, you felt the buzz beneath you.

She pulled away from you with a huff, evidently flushed whilst she looked down to the direction of her phone, waiting for you to lift yourself up so she could pull it out. Your eyes wandered down as well to the screen, wondering what it was to have disturbed the session. While she checked the notification she received, her fingers lightly and comfortingly traced your skin by the free hand pressed against the side of your thigh.

Another sigh left Wanda before she looked back up at you. The clatter of her phone being gently tossed inside the cup holder disrupted the quiet space. “Sorry, it’s the kids.”

“It’s fine,” you replied almost aloof, a faint frown present. Getting tugged toward the other seat of the car by the disappointed force of your body, she looked over to you with an unreadable expression. “It’s not like we don’t do this all the time.”

There was a certain underlying bitterness to your tone, yet it went unnoticed Wanda’s oblivious front. She hummed a response, averting her gaze from you as her rosy cheeks eased up after the practical make out. You took the wheel of the vehicle and started the engine before backing out of the secluded area in which became a routine.

The drive was overall peaceful— or so one would think from the point of view of anyone besides you two. The silence besides the noises of the pebbly road and the blasting AC was dreadful as it led you deeper into your thoughts. Thoughts of this relationship if you could even call it that.

For the past month, you and Wanda had been nothing more than what felt like two friends who happen to dabble in kissing. It was ridiculous, but how could you have any say if you weren’t outright protesting against it.

Ever since you met her outside of the app you first saw her from, you knew what you were getting into. The words of her interests and what she looked for in her bio below the picture that caught your attention more than anybody else haunted you throughout. To not have anything serious. It constantly made your stomach churn as the reminder was only forcing you to either leave or stay put in this hooked position. Wanda’s charming yet confusing character brought you to the latter.

From when you saw her through just a blinding square in the darkness of your room, she sparked something in you. The way you trailed and raked over every feature that was shown in millions of pixels, from her prominent smile lines to her perfectly refined clothing. Everything about her made you swipe right, overriding the contrasting wants between the two of you.

Yet there you were, stuck in a repeated process of being nothing more or less than whatever this was. It made your head spin how she’d at times be obviously tempted in doing more with you, but stop herself. You’ve noticed it countless of times. The acts of service in which had bundles of flowers in your hands to sudden cold turns that leave you on read. Or the way she would often fumble around with the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your pants only to pull away and keep up at the same pace of only locking lips. She led you nowhere but a pitiful hole that left you trapped.

As you began to drive past the many houses you became familiar with down the street, your eyes spotted a foreign car parked in the driveway of Wanda’s home. Behind the tinted windows, you saw a man sitting in front while two smaller heads peeked up from behind him in the back. You parked on the side of the sidewalk, turning to Wanda who had a subtle smile on hers.

“So I’ll see you… Saturday?”

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll see you,” you responded in more a friendly but forced voice, a small smile played as you waited for her to exit the car. But surprisingly, she leaned forward and placed a short yet lasting kiss on your lips, the softness of hers making you flush. It felt sweeter than most, meaningful even. As she pulled away and swiftly turned to open the door and leave, you almost missed the matching flustered expression. Again, you were met with another puzzling action that made you internally groan.

Watching her round the corner of your car and walking to the other, the door opened with two boys the same age jumping out. Smiles on both of them as they ran over to their mom was a warming sight, along with seeing the white between her lips as she grinned brightly looking down to them hugging either side of her body.

Wanda waved a slight bye to the man as you educatedly guessed it was her ex husband dropping off the kids for their few days with her. She had told you about the shared custody, something you knew that partially bothered her as conversations upon that topic resulted in noticeable downturns of her mouth.

A tired exhale came out before you turned away and started to drive again, not wanting to deal with the emotions spinning.

——————

Few days passed by since you last saw Wanda. You two only messaged each other at random times, like now when you were headed to bed. Already lying down and under the blankets, your eyes closed for the night until a disturbance occurred.

You stirred, feeling the buzz beside your head as you laid on the sunken pillow. Lazily reaching a hand up to take hold of your phone, it lit up in your squinted eyes, revealing a message that made your heart stutter with a following swallow of nerves.

“I want to see you.”

Your thumbs twiddled above the keyboard, not knowing how or what to respond with considering how it was still before the day you two planned to meet up. But you soon typed a reply back, wanting to seem casual about it. “Right now?”

Her reply came in an instant, a certain eagerness radiating off a single word. “Please?”

Your legs moved without a thought and dragged yourself out of bed. You were focused on the request, not bothering to care about the doubts about Wanda. But then again, you were also completely unaware of the state that she was in.

On the other end of the phone, she bit her tongue. A message sent out of pure desire and impulse. In honesty, she had no idea of what she was doing with you. These common meet ups and ‘dates’ came out as a way for her to release some sort of pent up tension.

It was her first time being with someone who wasn’t her ex, the man she’d often grimace at the thought of as she began to revel in ones of you instead, and since the day she found you on a simple free app which piqued her interest. She knew most wouldn’t have been fond with the idea of doing what she had in mind, yet she lucked out as an attractive individual like you willingly followed along.

It all started off very slow, subtle gestures and small compliments that could’ve been perceived as platonic. Or atleast until a random night where she ended a simple day with a sudden first move, kissing you with a particular urgency. And then only that continued for the next counting weeks.

She was just so comfortable in where you both were, able to do things at the steady pace she wanted while you stayed compliant. Yet, now she couldn’t have helped but felt that there was maybe more that she wanted in spite of the fear and nerves of doing something she wasn’t familiar with.

The sound of the doorbell disturbed her thinking. Her body moved at a quick pace to the front door revealing the face she grew to yearn seeing everyday.

You walked in hesitantly as you watched her eyes lit up, a small exchange of greetings between you. Her hand came to the small of your back to gesture you in her home which was welcoming with ambiance. Looking around, you saw littered and deserted toys in the living room, a long train along with futuristic and faux weapons you’d see in movies. “They went back with him already?”

“Yeah, I know. So soon,” she replied sighing, closing and locking the door before facing you. “They’ll be back soon enough though.”

Wanda walked towards you, taking your hand gently as she led you upstairs. You followed with no complaint, sensing what it was that she wanted. The usual.

Stepping into her room and trailing behind, a wave of uncertainty washed over you. Everything that you had thought about over the past week stirred up inside your head, and while she closed the door behind you, her eyes roamed your body without a clue. You sat on her bed, hands clinging onto the covers hanging off. The soft click of the door was heard. And then the unexpected blurt of your nervous voice.

“Wanda?” You called out to her without thinking as she turned her head around to look at you curiously with a small hum in return. “Could we talk about us?”

Her face dropped from your question, matching the feeling of her heart as she fully untwisted her body to properly talk to you. She muttered an answer. “Yeah, what about?”

You shifted nervously on the edge of her bed, your eyes flickering between her and floor as you spoke at a low level. “I just feel like this isn’t for me.”

“W-What do you mean? Everything’s been going so well between us,” Wanda responded, her voice laced with worry and disbelief.

“Wanda, it’s been over a month of… I don’t even know what. You’ve been giving me mixed signals. And honestly, I’m not sure why I willingly agreed to do this- thing like I’m some experiment,” you retorted with an undertone of sadness along side the confusion you’ve brought to the top.

“You’re not- trust me,” she tried to keep the wavering in her voice at bay until it lowered to same wavelength of regret. “You know I’m new to this…” Her brows pulled together while she took steps towards you, her feet reaching the bed and side beside you. The mattress sunk under her weight to your right. “I-I was just worried about what you’d think if I didn’t meet your expectations, and I knew you liked doing what we did so I figured I’d get enough out of that while also maybe keeping you interested-”

You heard her rant helplessly, the nonstop shaking of her leg then concerning you. She caught the way your eyes softened, and stopped herself from furthering her disquieting explanation. Her lip quivered as she let only a few more words sum it up. “I’m serious about you, I promise.”

The beating of your heart was loud against your chest, and you kept quiet letting her words sink in. All the doubts and nights you spent overthinking disappeared in your mind at the reassurance. You looked at her, your eyes wide with yearning as she gently trailed her fingertips along your jaw after her hand came up. Your skin heated up under her touch, only prompting her to then let her smoothly tilt your head further up.

Wanda took in the expression on you, how she sensed the feeling of security as you only gazed at her with want but not making any move to make her uncomfortable. So she took the chance to initialize it instead, now knowing that she no longer wanted to keep it steady. Leaning down, she pressed her plump lips against yours and kept her hand at your cheek as her other one crept up to caress the other side.

In response, you let out sigh through your parted mouth before you felt her tongue slowly probe and enter it. A noise of both surprise and desperation left you at her sudden movements, causing her to lightly groan and press against your warm body. She moved her hands to run down your shoulders to your waist, softly but firmly holding you there. And with moments of her kissing you breathlessly, she pushed you down against the mattress as her lips chased after yours in a longing manner.

“I want you,” she whispered after parting for only a second until she came back down a lot more eagerly. You reach up for her with your hands running through her soft untangled hair as another small moan left you. Wanda continued to intertwine her tongue with yours which only let her take control and you followed her lead. Lasting for only a minute or so, she teared herself away from you, staring down at your frazzled state. Heavy breaths huffed out from both of you, hers a lot more erratic.

Soon enough you felt her tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to pull it off of yourself. In a swift motion, you did while she then took the time to take your other article of clothing off from below and leaving you in just your underwear.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to see you like this…” Wanda’s voice came out muttered and deep, like she was really lost in your presence. She gradually crawled on top of you, her knee between your thighs as it pressed against your clothed center. You gasped at the sudden friction, already feeling as if you soaked through and made evidence of your wetness on her pants. As Wanda kneeled for a second, she took off her shirt and tossed it to the same direction of your clothes. She came and lowered back down to make contact with your lips again, her arms supporting her at the sides of your head.

You ushered a response to her, breathing heavily once you were able to part from the heated interaction. “Longer than me?”

“Probably,” she cracked a smile at your reply, your soft tone sounding sweeter than ever through her ears. “I just didn’t know it yet.”

With her hand coming down between your legs, she pulled her knee away and looked down to see the damp fabric. Her fingers grazed the darker spot of your panties, applying a light pressure to feel you more. You let out a moan in return, the sensation only heightening as she started to kiss and suck at the pulse of your neck.

The teasing lasted shortly before you felt her pull the cotton to the side to access your pussy. Two fingers pushed between your folds, a slight intake of air heard from Wanda due to your arousal leaking on her. You basked in the feeling of her gently rubbing against your sensitive areas before probing your entrance which welcomed her greatly.

She let one finger slip in, your walls already clenching around it. You bit your lip after the long anticipation, muffling another sound of pleasure as she continued to go in and out at a slow pace before stretching you out with another finger. She watched you from above to check for any signs of discomfort. “Does this feel okay?”

Her sweet and soft tone made you pay more attention to her expression, noting the furrow of her eyebrows. You were reminded of her inexperience as she showed concern over what she was doing. The careful movements inside your walls took some time to turn into light curling against that one spongey spot. “Mhm… you’re doing really good.” Your muttered and hushed words caused a sudden spur in Wanda. The praise fueled her to go deeper, hitting another point that drove you further in heat.

More wetness pooled beneath you and on her hand, making the sounds from below anything but innocent. Her lips returned to your neck, peppering lower to your collarbone and nibbling against the soft skin. You jerked up to meet her hand to find more friction which led to her thumb to then go upward to your clit, smoothly bringing you closer to the built up tension within your lower tummy. She didn’t stop her ministrations at all, ignoring the growing soreness of the muscles as the tip of her tongue ran over the dark marks she created.

The rise of volume and the desperate grip you had on Wanda had her in a daze as she found it all so addicting. It made her question why she didn’t give in sooner.

“W-Wanda, I’m gonna…” you trailed off, throwing your head back as she pumped into you harder. Tears welled up at the pressure, climbing up to the feeling of ecstasy. And the hum of her deep voice brought you over the edge.

“Uh huh, cum for me,” her breath fanned your flesh before her teeth dug into it, another mark made that well represented her possession over you.

At her soft demand, you squeezed around her fingers which forced their way to keep curling at your g-spot. Mixed moans left both of you, and filled up the room until she slowly came to stop, letting you ride out your orgasm before her fingers stilled.

As the tense feeling began to wash away, you were met with light kisses pattered around the side of your neck, trailing slowly up your jaw. You smiled faintly as Wanda’s lips separated from your skin to instead look down at your hazed expression. Again, her smile lines deepened as she couldn’t help but show more satisfaction of what she made you do. Carefully, her fingers left your drenched hole, causing you to also inwardly pout in disappointment at the emptiness following.

Wanda’s hand came from between your legs and you stared at it with earnest, noticing how a slick layer covered mainly two of her long thin fingers. Without thinking, your own hand came to gradually capture her wrist, making her caught off guard before your weak hold left her content. She gazed down at you curiously and watched with intent at how you sluggishly dragged it to your face. Eyes widening just enough for you spot it, Wanda clenched her teeth as she swallowed down a breath seeing you open your mouth and envelope her digits.

You continued to look up at her with doe-like eyes, desperation filling them and only making the warm sensation in her stomach on the verge of bursting. The feeling of your tongue moving against her and the tip running through crevices combined with the tear stains shimmering from the soft hue of light beginning to dry up pushed her in a state she didn’t recognize. Like an unknown switch was turned on in the back her mind.

Through your blurry vision, you saw the way her green orbs shifted side to side in a shaky but subtle manner, likely studying every feature on your face which kindled her further. With her still in your mouth, you sucked lightly, taking off and tasting all of your arousal. Once you were done, the grip on her wrist tightened loosely to pull her fingers back out, a line of spit connecting you both as the two of you witness each other’s reactions to everything.

Wanda let out an unstable breath. Her bottom lip shook lightly before being trapped between her teeth. Letting the silence sink in for only a few more moments, her muttering voice broke the building suspense. “God, you’re so pretty… I can’t fucking take it.”

With your lips still parted, she leans back in to eagerly capture them, her tongue immediately darting in to taste your arousal. Her hand came up to firmly yet gently hold your face in place by your jaw. Smalls gasps left the two of you and into each other’s mouths, leaving hardly any room to breathe. You could tell how much more she wanted this by the way she hungrily roamed the open spaces inside.

Laying weak underneath Wanda’s body, you felt her lift herself up steadily as she lightly grazed your bottom lip with her front teeth before separating. While you were still in a daze, she let go of you momentarily to lower herself. Her knee between your legs moved down as she placed and trailed light kisses from your neck to all the way to your tummy. “So perfect, baby.”

You felt your spine shudder from her hushed words, feeling the heat radiating off of her as she continued teasing you down to your inner thighs. Smaller bites led to her canines being sunk into your soft flesh as she marveled at the way you let out quiet but effective sounds and held onto the pillow you laid on. Spit followed from her lazily dragging her tongue dangerously close to your cunt, causing a subtle huff leaving you from the rising frustration of not getting straight to the point. The corners of Wanda’s lips tugged upward smugly at your growing desperation. She pulled just millimeters away for a moment and looked up at you, observing the slight frown on you from the loss of contact.

“Wanda, please,” your tone comes out as whiney, tempted to just grab onto her soft locks to pull her into the source of slickness she caused. “Please, I need you so bad.”

Her eyes noticeably darkened as she glared at the pleading expression, taking in the way your brows were creased together along with the lower lip just slightly sticking out. But your voice just pulled everything together.

Her hands pulled down your panties completely and threw them down to the floor. Opening her mouth again and not wasting anymore time, Wanda’s tongue was quickly coated with the taste of you again. A soft moan escaped her because of it as her arms came up to wrap around your thighs securely. Her tongue ran up and between your folds, each stride becoming more tantalizing. She barely reached your sensitive bud, and you only responded with another needy sound.

“Shh, just let me make you feel good,” Wanda shushed you, keeping her pace slow as she relished the taste. After a few more strokes up your folds, she made contact with your clit and lapped in an unhurried and deliberate manner. You gasped in response as the feeling pushed you further back into a heightening pressure within your lower body. She continued the ministrations, quickly pulling you close into another orgasm as she switched lightly sucking and licking your bundle of nerves to plunging back into your dripping hole.

Wanda feels you tightening around her tongue as she delved deeper into you, reaching spots that made you writhe beneath her. “Mhm, are you close again baby?”

You hear her soft voice alongside feeling the hum against your pussy. Pathetically, you nod with vigor and tug at her hair in your grip, feeling the impending climax the more she continued her movements. Despite her lack of experience and without your guidance, she was unexpectedly able to hit all your favorite spots.

“Beg for it.”

Her words came out more firm, prompting another twitch from your clit in her mouth. “P-Please, Wanda please. I wanna cum on your tongue.”

She smirked inwardly at the desperation reeking from you and worked on helping you to fall off the edge a second time. By the quickened pace and the ability to meet her lips by moving your hips with abandon, it wasn’t long until the pressure was released and left your body shuddering. The sounds that came out of you were loud and pleasant to Wanda’s ears. She lapped at you at a slower pace to drag out your pleasure, feeling the constant push as you kept grinding against her stained mouth.

Brought back to reality as you came down, the feeling of Wanda’s tongue was still relentless. She didn’t pull away at all but rather began to pace herself back to the previous speed. You whimpered noisily, trying to move away from her tongue attacking your extremely sensitive nub again. Yet, you were met with an aggressive tug as she tightened her hold around thighs and had your lower half hit the bed again. “Mm-mm, stay still for me.”

You felt yourself throb again at the sternness of her tone despite the growing and almost overwhelming overstimulation. Yet, it wasn’t like it mattered since her hold on you was anything but easy to get out of. You were only able to cry out as your weak arms pushed at her head to no avail. “Wanda, fuck- I can’t…”

She didn’t once falter under your straining whine to have her stop, triggering another upcoming sensation. Your futile attempt soon turned into a performance of need, your back arching from the heat of the sheets under you while her hands pinned your hips down, and the dull nails clung onto you. Moans spilling got increasingly louder from both of you, and for Wanda mostly from the little pain she received by your continuous pulling at her bunched up strands in your grasp.

She sensed how close you were again by the way you sounded and the way your body reacted. All of it becoming more recognizable under her touch. Your swollen clit was between her lips while her hand crept back between your closing thighs around her head, pushing her fingers into your pussy again. And rather starting off slow inside of you, she kept up a speed and force that matched her suckling, bringing you to a third high that left you shaking and moaning pitiably.

Wanda licked your cunt slowly as she pulled out again, her face willingly trapped because of you squeezing around her without control. She eased up on you, her hold less tight though leaving evidence of her nails that dug into you. It took a moment for you to regulate your breathing, pants filling the now silent room.

You sighed out heavily and your hands loosened their grip to allow Wanda to get up from between your trembling legs. With her face in view, you saw her mouth and chin covered with a mix of your wetness and her own saliva. A small laugh of adoration found its way out you at the sight, even if you felt exhausted. “You’re a mess.”

“Like you look any better,” she playfully countered while grinning at your disheveled appearance laid out underneath. As she crawled up to meet you eye to eye, your hand raised up to her chin, gently wiping it with your thumb. She stayed still for you and looked down lovingly, feeling like it was only you two who were present in the world, staring at each other longingly with no disruption. Though shortly, she softly spoke again, worry etched on her without warning. “That wasn’t actually too much for you, was it?”

“No, don’t worry. It wasn’t,” you quickly hushed her concern, your hand coming down as your arm wrapped around her neck to pull down. “It was perfect.”

You felt Wanda’s body loosen as tension left her shoulders, following with a warm smile. Matching her expression, your arm continued to apply a light pressure for her to lower herself, only stopping once your lips met in another loving peck.

“Stay here. I’m gonna get you cleaned up, okay?” Wanda said as she got up from you, excusing the look of disappointment from pulling away that she saw. Once you muttered the word of approval, she stood up from the bed and towards the bathroom where you heard water running for a short amount before she swiftly came back.

Wanda approached with a wet hand towel. You lifted your head to watch her intently as she settled back on the mattress, kneeling between the small space between your legs.

“Open up for me,” she commanded with a sweet tone, patting your thigh lightly before you spread a bit more, revealing the mess that was left surrounding your core. “Good girl.”

Splayed out before her, you couldn’t have helped but felt a little too exposed. You looked down at how she gazed at your sensitive area, wiping and soothing your skin with the warm cloth. Her eyes were full of admiration and love replacing the previous lust as she only now yearned to take care of every part of you, all while being able to see the vulnerable state your in despite how she thought of how beautiful you were.

You looked away and shyly waited for Wanda to finish, a growing warmth on your cheeks evident. She took a good portion of time slowly getting you all cleaned up. And once you noticed the longer period without the feeling of anything against you, your head turned back to see her toss the towel to the side carelessly as she never once averted her eyes from you.

You expected her to come forward and lay beside you, but instead she leaned down again with her head between your two limbs. It caught you off guard until you felt a gentle but firm pressure from her soft lips against your pussy, causing your stomach to flare up once again with an intense fluttering. The feeling of the kiss lingered after she pulled away, leaving you in a more patterned daze. She came back up soon and slowly made her way to your side as she quickly snaked her arms around your waist to have you pressed up to her chest, and ignored your flustered self.

“My pretty girl,” Wanda murmured, her hand to your head as she patted down the frizzed up hair. Your scent filled her senses, and she wanted nothing else than to bask in the moment with you. “You did so well for me.”

In response, you smiled against her skin and only clung onto her tighter. Until a teasing remark leaves you at the thought of her unexpected skill and care. “Now I’m starting to think you’re lying about this being your first time with a woman.”

“Oh please, I’m not lying,” she chuckled a bit, tracing your bare skin at the curve of your side. It’s true though, being with you made everything come natural to her, similar to how you’ve been a big factor of her life flowing so much easier. Even if it’s been barely a month.

A moment of silence passed through while the two of you soaked in the feeling of being tangled comfortably under the covers. The subtle grazing of her fingertips soothing you into a state of sleepiness. Yet, you only wanted to stay awake and appreciate it longer. Wanda sighed at your constant shuffling and pulled your head away from her body, tilting it up so she could see you. She observed your tired features and lightly rubbed the side of your cheek. “Why don’t you fall asleep? You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I wanna be awake with you.”

“I’ll be right here next to you in the morning. We’ll have all the time tomorrow, okay?” She smiled at your adorable demeanor, slightly wanting to pamper you more in spite of your sleepy self. In response, you nod up and down before leaning up for another quick kiss. Her smile grew into a grin as you pulled away, and she snuggled you into the crook of her neck as you felt your eyelids finally drop. Wanda muttered a few last words in your ear and caressed your upper body, pulling you into unconsciousness without a single worry.

Part 2(Something New)

[gtgbabie0]

-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!reader

{The upcoming war has brought a great stress upon you which causes you to go into an early labour}

!CW!//blood, premature childbirth// Enjoy lovelies💕

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The days following Aegon’s coronation were nothing short of exhausting, the mornings dragged and the nights were sleepless. The new king found himself in over his head with the only solace being you, someone who has stubbornly been there for him since childhood.

There was a familiarity to your warmth and kind words of encouragement, you were his only constant in a world of ever-changing conditions and he latched onto that never willing to let go. Always checking up on you and the babe inside your womb with worried eyes.

In turn, you had done the same, constantly seeking him out when horrible thoughts of the brewing war were all that plagued your mind, leaving you paranoid and constantly on edge.

You were each other’s anchors in ways that you both never thought possible.

The afternoon sun drips through the clouds, casting warm orangey rays through Kings Landing and across the Red Keep, bathing your shared bedchambers in a comforting light.

It is supposedly meant to be peaceful, or that is what Aegon thought when he practically demanded for you to stay in bed. Yet it has proven to be much more stressful, the books and cross-stitching doing nothing to distract your mind from what lingers over the horizon.

You have taken to pacing the length of the room, much to the dismay of your maids who watch on with panic in their eyes. A few of them had prompted you to sit down, trying to sway you with tea and sweet cakes but you waved them all off with a frown, desperately trying to ignore the dull pain that was beginning to grow in the small of your back.

You refuse to believe that your baby is arriving, it is far too early, yet you can hear the Maesters voice in the back of your mind telling you how ‘stress is not good for the babe’.

“Your grace, please take a seat.” The youngest of your maids try once more, daring to step forward to you with careful footing as if you were some sort of scared deer.

At her words you shake your head, turning your back to her with a small sigh, your fingers pressing against your lower spine and your other hand resting against the swell of your belly.

“Where is my husband?” You demand, turning back to face the women whose eyes never leave you.

“The King is attending a small council meeting, he shan’t be long, your grace.” Her words do nothing to calm the way your hands tremble nor the thoughts that race through your mind, despite how soft her tone is.

You purse your lips together tightly with a sharp inhale as shooting pain rips through your lower abdomen, causing you to hunch over slightly, grasping onto a chair for support.

You can hear the women behind gasp, saying something about blood but it all seems like distant noise almost as if you were underwater. There is little you can do but groan in pain, finally allowing your maids to guide you over to your bed.

You know something is deeply wrong, having already been through this once before. But that was extremely different, your mother was there even Aegon who stood speechless in the corner of the room with wide eyes… Gods you were both so young then, it seemed like a memory that wasn’t yours.

Now you are alone, save for the Maesters and Maids who are frantically trying to keep your temperature down with damp cloths, water dribbling down the side of your temples as you lay in fear.

You push yourself up onto your elbow, resting up on the mountain of pillows, letting out a strained cry at the feeling of an agonising pain that cramps up your abdomen causing you to fist the bedsheets beneath you.

The sound of your bedchamber doors slamming open catches your attention, but only for a brief moment before collapsing back down against the bed with a stomach-churning cry.

The staff around you don’t dear to try and turn Aegon away, especially when his eyes darken at the sight of the blood stains on your chemise and bedspread, a heavy look of terror masked behind an anger that sends a chill through the hot room.

“She is bleeding— why is she bleeding?!” He shouts, demanding an answer from the Maester who is trying to coax you to breathe deeply and then push.

His demands are met with silence before Orwyle steps away from the bed where you lay, squirming in pain. The maids and nurses all rush together, trying to guide your breathing through your clenched teeth.

“The babe is breeched your grace, coming feet first.” Maester Orwyle says, casting his eyes down to the floor with a troubled expression.

The sound of your agony echos within Aegon’s mind sending his thoughts spiralling far out of his control, the helplessness of it all eats away at him making his hands tremble with frustration that he can’t do anything to help you, to take you away from this damned situation. His eyes dart around the room in a panic, looking anywhere but at you as if he was trying to find a hidden answer to save you from this nightmare.

“Well, then why are you still standing here? Do something, help her!” He shouts, slamming his closed fists down upon the wooden table as he watches the Maester scurry back to the bed.

He stands there frozen, his breathing ragged suffocating on his own emotions. He wants the throw things, and curse the gods, the mother and the warrior because where is mercy and strength as you lay there in this torment?

“Aegon…” the sound of his name leaving you so weakly, the hushed word that is strained in desperation tumbling past your chapped lips hits him square in his chest, almost flooring him in shock.

His body moves on its own, practically collapsing onto the edge of the bed with his brows pinched together and his glossed-over eyes looking down at you. He wants to help you so bad but the only thing he can do is stroke your hair away from your sweaty forehead.

“Do not leave, stay here please,” you plead through gritted teeth, looking up at him through your bleary sight.

“I am staying… I’m right here.” He tells you firmly, the back of his fingers caressing your warm cheek gently. The cool metal of his rings keeps your eyes from falling close, fighting the fatigue.

He watches you intently, every twitch of your face only sends him further down into this maddening spiral of despair and frustration. “You’re doing so well… keep going.” He whispers, brushing his thumb over your hot cheek.

Aegon doesn’t move from his spot beside you, allowing your hands to tighten harshly around his own each time your body is wrecked by a contraction. He takes one of the damp rags from the maids, dabbing it against your chest and face in hopes of soothing you, even if it is only for a mere second because he cannot… he will not sit there doing nothing.

“We must sit her up,” Orwyle says through the sounds of your screams, resorting to the last possible option.

“What will that do if not cause her more pain?… I will not have her suffer more than she already is.” Aegon retorts with a deep frown, his words stern and laced with worry.

He was extremely stubborn and firm, even more so when the matter was about you. Never letting you leave from his side let alone out of his sight any longer than needed and even then he made sure at least one Kingsguard was standing behind you at all times.

“It is noted that movement helps set the babe correctly, your grace.” His words do very little to calm the maelstrom of dread that wraps around his heart and chokes him up. “Unless you wish to leave her in the hands of the gods…”

Aegon’s eyes meet your own for a very brief moment, the gods have already failed her, he thinks.

“No… no sit her up.” He agrees, looping his arm around your shoulders and pushing you upwards as you demand and scream for him to stop, fingers digging into his arms as you call his name weakly.

The hours that you were in labour for the Red Keep was still, silently waiting on bated breath for news of you and your babes' wellbeing. The echoes of your screams and pleas were the only thing that could be heard even from all the way down in the kitchens.

It was the hour of the owl when you finally made the final push, sinking back down against the pile of soft pillows. “Congratulations your grace… a boy,” Orwyle announces as your son wails making his presence well known. The maids swaddle your son up in a clean blanket before placing him gently upon your chest.

You take deep laboured breaths, your eyes heavy with exhaustion as you look down at your son. He was tinier than the twins when they were born, so much more delicate, his breathing weaker.

Aegon was completely stunned, he doesn't know what to say or do, instead, he simply watches you and the way cradle the baby’s head ever so gently, greeting him with a soft kiss on his forehead.

He had seen this before but yet he still feels as if his heart might just leap out of his chest. An overwhelming feeling of pride bursts through him leaving him all teary-eyed and soft smiles.

“He’s beautiful.” Aegon finally breaks his silence, his voice thick with indescribable emotions. The words don’t do your son justice, the little ball of pureness that is cuddled up against your chest. He can’t believe that something so precious… so innocent could be half him but the shape of his nose could attest that, he was Aegon’s.

You nod softly, brushing the back of your finger across his cheek as you admire him. The rest of the world seems to disappear, the maids cleaning up around you turn into white noise, and all you can focus on is your boy.

“Would you like to hold him?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from all the crying and screaming that was so worth it for the price of this feeling of contentment that has washed over you.

He holds back a sharp response that his hands were too rough, too clumsy. The last thing he wanted to was hurt him, he was already so tiny. You can see the look of trepidation that passes through his amethyst eyes, he was hesitant.

Your fingers slip between his own, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “You won’t hurt him Aegon, I promise.” You tell him, melting away all of his persistent worries that had rooted themselves into his heart.

With a small, almost nervous, nod of his head, he pulls the sleeves of his tunic up to his elbows before you place the newborn babe in his arms, his heart stops for a small second, the breath in his lungs completely gone and all he can do is marvel down at his son.

“You’re amazing…” he whispers, voice steeped in reverence as he casts his gaze down to you as if you were some sort of deity to worship. You had nurtured a life and now here he is holding that very same life, it completely astonishes him.

You chuckle at his words, lifting your hand to rest against his cheek ever so gently. He leans into the warmth of your palm, pressing a soft kiss against your wrist. “He’s ours Aegon, yours and mine.” You remind him with a weak smile.

It’s a simple word, ours. But the way you say it with such emotion, with no hesitation, leaving no room for doubt to plague his heart made him happy. So happy.

“Ours,” Aegon repeats, brushing the back of his fingers across his son’s cheek ever so gently. “Maelor…” He smiles, testing the name softly before looking back down at you as you nod in agreement, repeating the name lovingly.

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The following days were slow, quite a nice change of pace especially with everything that had been happening. You sit, leaning back against the velvet cushions of the chair, with Maelor in your arms as you wait for Aegon and the twins.

“Remember, you have to be gentle and quiet,” Aegon says, walking into the bedchambers with Jaehaerys and Jaehaera at either side of him.

They both let go of his hand before rushing over to you with wide curious eyes, looking down at their new sibling with excitement.

“Can he play with us in the garden?” Jaehaera smiles, looking up at you.

“Not just yet my sweet, he’s got a little growing to do before then.” You tell her softly, brushing her curls behind her ear.

“Am I allowed to read to him?” Jaehaerys asks next, his hand grasping the armchair as he leans over to look down at Maelor.

“Soon, let’s give him time to settle first.” He nods at your words and soon enough they’re both asking question after question.

Aegon stands behind you, his hands massaging your shoulders as you answer the twins with a patience he admires. The sight fills him with a sweet warmth that bleeds through him, his heart full of love. Perhaps the weight of the crown isn’t so bad if it’s for you four.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺

Dad Aegon as he deserves.

[enviedear]

𓆰𓆪 what a waste, army dreamers

jacaerys velaryon

- ˏˋ 🎧ྀི 1.3k words, no use of y/n, no specified house, childhood friends to lovers, team black victory!au ˊˎ -

in which the war ends in favor of the realms’ delight and life attempts to return back to what it was before the war—only, you pray a naive oath of love—spoken in haste before the fight grew old—still rings true.

the red keep almost feels like a figment of your imagination. the castle, still reminiscent of your first moons in these halls, and shockingly unchanged by the recent war. you met the seasons again and again away from these walls, waiting for the war to end—a mere girl the last you strode these halls, but the memories are as vivid as ever. glimpses of the past seem etched invisibly in the stone around you, coaxing you back to a time when the world was simpler. before the war had upended everything.

your household's return to the capital had been met with all the formalities expected of a family in favor with the crown. your father, newly appointed to queen rhaenyra’s council, had brought you along.

the red keep was your home once more, yet it felt strangely uncharted and distant—much like the young prince you had once known so well. jacaerys.

he had been a constant in your life, his presence as usual to you as the castle itself. you grew together, shared secrets, and once, when the fight was still young, he had confessed something you're unsure you'll ever be able to forget—“i think i’m in love with you.”

it had been spoken so softly, you remember. the same softness you recall him showing when his duties kept him from you. but his eyes, dark and brimming with a genuine kindness unparalleled by any other, are what you remember most.

those words had hung between the both of you, hearts heavy by the sentiment. you had left him that night with a promise to speak on the matter when the war was over. a practical choice, you had told yourself. but the war had taken longer than anyone anticipated. by the time it was over, everything had changed. he had changed. youth had changed—turned into the morbid realities of maturity, and with it, ended your puerile prayers for the prince.

you hadn’t dared seek him out since your return. so much time had passed, too many things left unsaid. Most of all, you weren’t sure you could face him again without surrendering entirely to what might have been. transfigured into a ghost of the past.

despite your efforts, you know that the castle walls are not large enough for you to evade him forever. no matter how hard you try.

you're standing in front of your chamber door, hand resting on the cool brass handle. the day had been long, filled with courtiers and formalities, and all you've yearned for is a moment of peace. still, you stand there, frozen in place by the steady beat of footfalls. undeniably heading your way.

you hadn’t sought him out. wouldn't have dared.

but he had sought you.

the footsteps echo softly from behind you, and you let out a tense breath. you don't have to turn around to know who it is. his presence still feels as keen as your own shadow.

your name falls from his lips, voice low and rough around the edges. you turn slowly, heart hammering in your chest, and meet his gaze.

jacaerys stands there, just a few paces away, his expression a mix of emotions you can’t read. the moonlight from a nearby window casts soft shadows on his face, underlining the sharp angles and his deep, tempestuous eyes. they've always been able to see through your defenses.

“my prince.” you rush, his title slipping out before you can stop it, habit now.

he withdraws, the reaction so slight you might've missed it if you weren’t watching so closely. “don’t.” he starts, voice softer now, almost pleading. “not when it’s just us.”

you hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face. for that moment, everything feels suspended. stuck in that delicate space between what was and what could have been. a space you're all too familiar with.

he takes a tentative step closer, gaze fixed on you as though he fears you might vanish if he moves too quickly. the warmth of his presence is a bright contrast to the cold stone surrounding you, and you find yourself drawn to him, despite the years and the changes that have come between you.

"you're well, i hope?" you ask, the words escaping before you can reconsider. it’s a question laden with too much civility, but it’s all you can manage in the face of his lingering brown eyes.

jacaerys offers a small, rueful smile. "it has been… a challenge." he admits. "but i’ve managed, as has the realm. and now, seeing you here—"

he stops himself as if searching for the right words. you can see the struggle etched across his face, the inner turmoil battling with the calm exterior he tries so very hard to maintain.

"seeing me?" you prompt, gently, eyes softening as you look at him. the years have changed him, but the boy you once knew is still there, just beneath the surface. still sweet and delicate with his words, and playful and jovial in actions.

he exhales slowly, and the breath seems to release the tension in his shoulders, only slightly. "it’s strange." he decides finally. "to see you again after so long. i did not expect—" he shakes his head, frustration evident in his voice. "for it to be this difficult."

the openness in his tone catches you off guard, there's a swirl of bittersweet confusion swimming in your mind.

"it has been difficult for me as well." you confess quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor. "i do not know if you still—"

"still what?" he interrupts, taking yet another step closer. his eyes search yours, filled with a hope that appears fragile and fervent. "if i still care for you?" he finally lets his smile peek through, "i do. i’ve thought of you in every moment and prayed for you in those inbetween."

the sincerity in his voice makes your heart ache, a bittersweet pang that is both reassuring and painful. you look up at him, meeting his eyes with a meld of apprehension and longing.

"i never thought you would." you confide, a hint of a smile touching your lips despite the nervous flutter in your chest. "i conceded to the belief you'd come to forget me."

he reaches out, closing the minimal distance between you, his hand brushing yours in a tender, almost hesitant touch. "i never could." he whispers, voice steadying as he holds your gaze. "i was hurt at the gullet, you know. the maester's said it was the mercy of the gods that let me live." a pause, "but it wasn’t. it was you. i heard your voice, saw your face. no gods, only you. i knew i just had to wait."

your pulse quickens at his words. all at once, you feel the warmth of his hand against yours. such a gentle pressure and still, it seems strong enough to bridge the gap that had grown between you over the many moons apart.

"wait for what?" you question, nearly heady for his words.

he looks at you with a vehemence that makes your heart race, gaze unwavering. "for you." he says softly. "i told you i thought i loved you, and yet it wasn't the truth. i always knew it was as true then as it is now. my love for you seems to come easier than breathing and it always has."

your breath hitches as his words hang in the air, a promise and a confession all at once. the warmth of his hand on yours feels like a lifeline, and for a moment, everything else falls away.

"i don’t know what to say." you admit, voice soft. "it all feels more like a dream."

jacaerys’s eyes soften, and he ambles closer, his hand still gently clasping yours. "it's no dream, issa prūmia." he murmurs, his voice a tender caress. "let me show you that i meant every word. from every moment i spent waiting."

unable to stop yourself, you reach out and cup his cheek in your hand, inclining at the feeling of his warm skin beneath your fingertips. his eyes soften even further at the gesture, a small smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

"i've missed you." you whispered, fingers slipping up to his dark hair. you let yourself card your fingers through the soft tresses—just as you would moons prior.

jacaerys leans into your touch, closing his eyes briefly—as if savoring the moment like a hearty meal. and when he opens them again, they’re gleaming with the same utter adoration you remember so vividly.

[electronicwitchcollection]

~*Grimmjow Smut*~

“One bed trope” & Rutting/breeding

The Quincy war had ended. Soul society had began rebuilding from the ruins, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Buildings had been rebuilt, the 13 divisions coming together in unity after the destruction and loss you all endured. The new head captain, previous captain of the 8th, Shunsui Kyoraku, had led the shinigami into the new world created. Along with the new found peace, soul society had gained some new recruits. One of them being the former Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

A brutally gruff man with a lethally short temper and a thirst for battle that rivalled that of Captain Kenpachi. After his efforts in support of the war and the glowing recommendations given by war hero Kisuke Urahara, he had been granted a place in the goeti 13 court guards.

Unfortunately, due to your inability to say no and your constant need to appease your superiors, you had been landed with the gruelling task of "teaching Grimmjow the ropes" so to speak. The arrancar had seemed just as disappointed by this match up as you were. Arms permanently crossed over his muscular chest, he had spent the majority of the past three days of your journey glaring at you. Which was preferable to the snide comments and rumbling growls he otherwise offered you.

You couldn't wait to make it back to the Seireitei, the last leg of your journey should have you arriving back by late morning tomorrow. You would suggest walking through the night to end the painful silence sooner, if not for the angry black clouds rolling closer at a rapid pace. The temperature had lowered considerably, your brisk walking thankfully warming you sufficiently. You pulled the map from your sash, eye brows furrowed as you came to a stop and tried to figure out how far away you were from the inn you had reserved for the night.

"how much longer?" your unwilling companion grumbled from behind you. Fighting the urge to throw the map at his head, you concentrated on the markings.. it's going to be at least another three hours of Mr. Sunshine's radiant personality.

"Are you deaf, woman?! "  Grimmjow growled, testing your patience "How much longer? It's going to rain soon" 

Folding the map back up, you took your time placing it securely in your sash as the winds picked up around you. The fact that you were waiting until you were finished before addressing the crude brute, was less about the efficiency of securing your map and more because you enjoyed making him wait. "About three hours Grimmjow. Four if you keep wasting time bitching" 

"I ain't bitching! It's gunna rain! " he roared at your retreating back, you started back on your journey, not waiting to see if he would follow

"aww, is the kitty scared of a little rain?" You unkindly teased over your shoulder. You heard the rumble deep in his chest, clearly about ready to snap

"I ain't scared of nothing!" such eloquent grammar the Espada exhibited. "Damn bitch, can't you feel the storm coming? Fucking weak shiningami" 

"Listen, Grimmjow, the longer you stand there arguing with me, the longer we'll be stuck in the storm you're so desperately trying to avoid "  you turn to face him, started a little by how he looked. He looked frenzied. Blue hair sticking out as though he had been running his fingers through it. His skin looked clammy and flushed, face had a dull pink tinge, unlike the brilliant red you had witnessed during a screaming rampage. His arms tensed at his sides, bulging biceps trembling minutely as his fists opened and closed in tight fists.

His eyes looked wild. The brilliant blue seemed faded with an animalistic sheen. Blown pupils darted around erratically, avoiding looking straight at you. He must really hate getting wet. The fight left you at the sight of him. Sighing, you offer an alternative, as much as he was getting on your last neves, it really wasn't in you to be intentionally cruel, "there's a trapper shack about fifteen minutes up the side road. It won't be as nice as the inn, but providing there's no one there we should be able to survive one night" 

He clenched his jaw, offering you a tight nod. Taking the hint, you resumed your leading, teetering off the main road to follow the dusty beaten path.

—————————————————

"you've got to be kidding me"

You weren't some materialistic princess, you could slum it with the best of them. Getting your hands dirty had never phased you. The state of the shack, however, was pushing it. The howling wind ripped through the barely held together shack, forcing its way through the rotting wooden slats. Every inch of the place was covered in a sheet of dust, the muddy floor held long forgotten footprints of past hunters. A sooty fire pit sat in the middle of the room, jagged rocks forming a wobbly circle, small hole in ten roof above to allow ventilation for the smoke.

There was a helpful pile of dried logs near the beaten door, clawing onto its hinges desperately. The one saving grace, as it had been pelting down with heavy rain the past ten minutes, the chance of you finding any dry wood outside was slim to absolutely fucking impossible. What made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, however, was the single bed pushed into the corner of the room. Thin blanket messily thrown over the questionably stained mattress, two pillows long since lost their plump plush. Two Tatami mats pushed against the opposite wall, probably stoping the wall from tumbling over.

"move" Grimmjow pushed his way into the shack, nudging your shoulder harshly. Shaking him self, not dissimilar to the way a dog would rid its fur of water. Grimmjow looked around the room, Unphased by the grimy appearance. He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "Not up to your standards princess? "  he sneered in your direction, foot kicking the rocks around the fire pit. "Afraid you'll break a nail?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage in his snappy remarks. Closing the door behind you, silently pleading with it to stay standing at least til morning, you reached down to grab a couple of different sized logs. Stacking them near the fire pit, you pulled off your backpack, digging through your preserves to find your flint and steel and a pouch of dry kindling.

Kneeling onto the cold ground, you arranged the kindling into a loose pile, striking the flint and steel sending sparks into the bundle. When glowing embers caught, you lifted the pile to your mouth, blowing steadily until a small flame licked to life. Satisfied you began placing twigs into a teepee, watching as they caught light. Silently to built up the pile until a controlled fire crackled in the middle of the room, giving off its roaring heat.

Grimmjow had leaned himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Legs crossed at the ankles, he had been staring at you, watching as you created fire.

"No thanks Grimmjow, I don't need any help. Thanks for asking"  You sarcastically remark. The answering scoff you received at least let you know sarcasm was something even hollows understood. Too tired to cook yourself a meal, you pulled out some jerky and a pre-made rice ball for your dinner. Grimmjow didn't need anything to eat. While, you discovered, he could eat human food, he could also be satisfied by chomping down on smaller hollows.

That was a sight you wouldn't forget in a hurry. The animalistic way he leaped at the hollows you had encountered earlier in the day. Sharp teeth ripping into the flesh of the howling beasts with a sadistic grin on his face. Grimmjow swallowing those mouthful's of hollow flesh was something else entirely.

Banning the memory from your mind so not to completely ruin your appetite, you moved to sit on the bed, trying not to think about what that stain was. Grimmjow hadn't moved from his space as far away from you as the cabin allowed. Mindlessly chewing at your food, your eyes started to wander. His fingers had gripped into his biceps, the indents pushed into the flesh looked painful. He kept shifting his weight between his feet, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.

Your chewing slowed as you regarded him. You were in from the rain, drying nicely from the heat provided by the fire. So why did he look just about ready to claw his own skin off? Perhaps he was dreading the sleeping arrangements as much as you were

"so" you started the awkward conversation after swallowing the last of your light meal. He tilted his chin into your general direction at your conversation starter "how are we doing this?"

He jerked his head fully to you then, eyes widened "we ain't doing anything" his husky voice rumbled. It was your turn to tilt you head, this time in confusion

"sleeping arrangements? There's only one bed" you emphasised the point by tapping the bed below you. You see the realisation dawn on his face before pushing it away with a sneer. You couldn't fathom what he could've been so worried about

"pfft, you take it, don't wanna hear your bitching all night if you had to sleep on the floor." Grimmjow moved to the tatami mats leaning against the wall, throwing them unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. You were pleased to see they weren't hiding a gaping hole in the wall. Grimmjow fell backwards onto the mat, crossing his arms under his head and stared at the wooden roof.

Not letting the comment slide, you picked up one sorry excuse for a pillow, throwing it harder than necessary to flop anticlimactically on Grimmjow's stomach. You received a growl for your efforts. Throwing a couple more robust logs on the fire to ensue heat for hopefully the whole night, you felt confident to change into your sleeping gown and not freeze to death. While it showed more skin than your regulation issued shinigami uniform and as much as you didn't relish in the thought of rolling about on that dirty mattress all night with more on show, you hated the confines of clothing while you slept. You would just have to scrub extra hard in your bath the next day.

Locating your gown in your backpack, you climbed under the covers to change, folding up your uniform neatly and laying it atop your bag. Though it would've been easier staying dry in a shower, you snuggled under the blanket trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The raging storm outside helped ease you into blissful unconsciousness, hoping that by morning the storm would've passed along with Grimmjows pissy mood

You wouldn't hold your breath though

——————————————————

When your eyes snapped open way too soon for it yet to be morning, you had first assumed it was the storm still raging outside that had woken you up. You remained staring at the wall, not wanting to risk waking Grimmjow, less you wanted to deal with his moody ass at being woken. The fire was still breathing, judging by the heat at your back. You listened to the usual sounds of the storm, rumbling thunder in the distance, they ruthlessly pelting rain hitting the roof, howling wind whipping through the trees. Yet sleep avoided you.

That's when you heard the shuffle of clothes rubbing together and a throaty grunt. You roll your eyes, of course the bastard moved around in his sleep. You tried to force yourself back to sleep, but the noises never stopped. You could hear his knuckles crack as they gripped the side of the tatami mat, puff of air escaping the spongy padding.

He squirmed around noisily, small grunts and husky grumbles accompanying his heavy breathing. You sigh loudly, the room stilling. A pregnant pause followed. Pleased with the silence you closed your eyes again, trying to drift off.

A chesty rumble and a thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting the mat had you flipping over, leaning up on your elbow to glare at the Espada "Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing?" 

"Nothing". He tightly snapped at you, lacking the usual hostility. He stared at the roof, refusing to look at you "go back to fucking sleep" 

"I can't, with all your moving around and grunting."  You try not to sound condescending, but really, who could sleep through all that racket. "What's the problem? Are you cold or something? I could put another log on the fire..?"

"Its rutting season" he growled out deeply, voice so thick and sticky he almost choked on the words... Rutting season? Oh. Oh  That'll explain the frenzied look he sported earlier. You were at a loss of what to say, what could you say? Shinigami didn't go through anything so animalistic

"can't you just..? Ignore it?" You ask, ignorance showing

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" He snapped at you, patience clearly wearing thin

"making a fucking racket" you grumble back "can't you.. step outside.. take care of it?"

He snorted at your suggestion, legs moving around on the mat "damn shinigami, don't know nothing." 

"we don't have rutting seasons"  you reminded him softly

"It don't fucking work like that. Hands don't work. I gotta knot in a pussy" the crass wording had you sucking in a sharp breath. Not quite the civilised conversation you were anticipating, yet the next words sent a rush of heat rushing through you hotter than the fire itself "so unless your offering, shut the fuck up an go back to sleep"

Offering? To have sex with him? What an absurd notion. And yet... Grimmjow was good looking.. in a demented "I'll murder you and everyone you love" kinda way. Tall and with enough rippling muscles for three men. A cocky grin with surprisingly intriguingly sharp canines. While usually spitting insults, his voice was deep and sultry. And his hair, such an unusual colour, yet it fit him so perfectly.

It had been a while since you had indulged in that cardinal desire, your throbbing cunt attested to that. You could help him out.. if only to finally get some peace and quiet enough to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I'll help you" your voice sounded strained to your own ears. Grimmjow sat up suddenly at your words, staring at you as though you sprouted another head

"the fuck you just say?" Utter bewilderment filled his voice, lilt of eagerness filtering through

"I said, alright"it pained you to admit it, twice. "I won't be able to get any damn sleep until you stop moving around" 

Grimmjow pounced across the room, literally leaping through the air and landing easily on your bed. Feverish hands ripped off your blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you at his eager haste. Rough large hands ripped your gown from your body, jagged line separating the cloth covering your body. You glared at him, for ruining your favourite sleeping gown. He payed not attention, throwing the scraps of ruined material over the side of the bed.

He had a crazed look in his eyes, taken over with the animalistic urge to mate. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he removed his own top, you noticed how he didn't rip his clothing. Surging forward Grimmjow buried his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your scent filled his nostrils, eliciting a rumbling deep from his chest. You cry out as he bit down brutally, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh where neck joins shoulder.

His hips bucked against your covered core at the tang of blood seeping through to his tongue, deep rumbling escaping around the mouthful of neck he had in his mouth, reminding you of the purr of a cat. A big fucking cat. Mercifully releasing you, he swiped a strong, hot lick against the wound, cleaning up the drops of blood pulled out. Seemingly finished marking you, Grimmjow pushed away his pants, large cock bobbing heavily between you. Your eyes went wide at the sight, throat drying painfully.

He was huge. While similar to that of humans, it was bigger than any you had previously seen, by quite a few generous inches. And thick, you wouldn't be able to close your hand around the veiny girth to touch your fingertips. You couldn't tell if the weight appearing in your lower stomach was from dread or lustful excitement at the knowledge it would soon be inside you.

Ignoring your inner turmoil, Grimmjow ripped your panties off you next, throwing the scrap of material to join the rest. Angry retort died on your lips as he surged forward, attempting to thrust into you

"wait!" You nearly scream, holding him back by planting your hands firmly on his chest, twisting your leg to cover your opening. He gave you a warning growl, hand gripping your thigh roughly to move it back from denying him access, crazed instincts telling him to mount. The punch to the jaw you delivered brought him back to his senses some what

"what?" He asked through clenched teeth, finally making eye contact

"you can't just force it in" you said pointedly, glancing down at the angry purpling head of his dick. He gave you a questioning look, head tilted to the side in a feline manor. "You got to get me wet first"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, crawling down your body he crouched down to be eye level with your core, before spitting loudly straight onto your cunt. You felt the hot liquid hit you, and recoiled at the grotesque action. Your mind almost short circuited when he tried again to mount you. You planted a foot on his chest this time, pushing him back.

"fucking now what?!" he almost roared at you, getting frustrated at being denied what had already been offered.

"not like that ,you brute!"

"fucking woman! You said wet, that's wet!" He let out his frustration by pushing against your leg planted on his chest

"We aren't naturally wet inside, Grimmjow. We need to be stimulated by foreplay,". You spoke to him slowly, like teaching a child "you need to use your fingers or tongue to stretch me, your dick will rip me otherwise " you begrudgingly add, he definitely didn't need the ego boost of knowing he was very well endowed. He caught the meaning anyway, cocky smirk making a reappearance on his face. "Try and make me actually want to fuck you, for fucks sake" you add exasperated, flopping back onto the pillow.

This time you allowed him to remove your foot from his chest, letting it fall to the side, opening up your thighs. His wet, warm tongue suddenly tasted you in a steady lick up the slit of your cunt. You sigh, letting your eyes close to savour the feelings, letting yourself relax enough to enjoy it. He repeated the action, delving in between your folds a little more with every lick.

Grimmjow let his mouth salivate at the new taste, his animalistic side relishing in the musky taste of a mate. Letting his spit slide down onto his tongue to leave on your silky hot folds. A breathy moan escapes you, shooting straight to Grimmjows throbbing, neglected cock. He gave an answering growl, plunging his tongue deep into your depths, patience slowly but surly hitting their limits.

He needed to start rutting, and soon. Your own natural lubricant began coating his tongue, setting his tastebuds alight with the heady taste. Pushing his face in deeper, chasing the slightly salty tang, his nose brushed against something that made you jerk below him with a loud moan. He pulled out of you, lower face dampened by his sloppy work, in search for what made you call out.

At the top of your dusky pink cunt was a small protruding bump, inquisitively, he brushed his finger against it. Another moan ripped from you, back arching from the bed, thrusting your hips up encouragingly. Grimmjow rubbed against it again, getting the same reaction.

Not letting up on his thumb pressing against the little button that had you bucking like a bitch in heat, Grimmjow shoved two fingers inside you roughly. He could feel your tight inner walls sucking around his fingers, clenching them tightly. Thrusting them in and out quickly, gaining hardly any give in your vice like grip, Grimmjow sped up his movements, practically punching his knuckles either side of his submerged digits into the soft flesh on your pussy.

You writhed beneath him, pleasure outshining the pain he inflicted on your sensitive mound. A steady stream of appreciative moans left your lips, turning into keening groans as he added another finger, stretching you out in preparation for his even larger phallic. Lost in a sea of contradictory feelings, you didn't feel your orgasm approaching until it crashed over you, pulling you deeper into a spiral of blind bliss.

Grimmjow felt the sudden gush of liquid on his fingers, getting pushed out messily by his thrusting fingers. First he sneered, assuming you had disgustingly wet yourself, pissing all over his hand. Until his sensitive nose picked up the scent, the same heady musk he had tasted from within you. Mouth watering, wanting to taste the tangy substance once more, Grimmjow removed his soaked fingers, going straight to the source to drink down the glistening wetness.

Lust filled fog lifted slowly from your mind, feeling Grimmjow greedily lap at your spasming Cunt, you tried to push his head away. Grimmjow possessively growled into you, gripping your thighs to stop you denying him his reward.

"Grimmjow" you called to him to no prevail, he ignored your voice, lapping at you hungrily. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply. Like a cornered beast he pinned you to the bed by your wrists, staring challengingly into your eyes with a predatory look. His mouth was wet with your arousal, you could smell your scent on his chin as he tumbled above you in warning.

"Grimmjow," you tried again, submissively lowering your tone, whispering meekly. "You need to leave it wet, so you don't hurt me with your cock"

The mention of his cock seemed to remind him of the aching member hanging heavily between you. Releasing you with a huff, Grimmjow fisted himself, groaning at the full tug he gave himself. Lining up with your centre, he pushed in swiftly, burying himself as deep as he could go, stopping only when the engorged head of his dick bumped against your cervix. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, painfully stretching you beyond your limits. Your inner walls protested at the too big invasion, squeezing painfully around it.

Tears stung your eyes, mouth gasping to pull air into your lungs. It was too big, too much to handle. Grimmjow didn't allow you any time to adjust to the size, rutting his hips into you feverishly, cardinal desire to breed consuming his mind. You felt the burn as his rigid cock dragged against your walls, pushing against them unbending. Small sparks of pleasure tried to push through the overwhelming stretch, Grimmjow hitting every sweet spot mercilessly with each frenzied thrust. You concluded he was too big, too thick to miss, accuracy wouldn't be needed.

Grimmjows chest rumbled with a constant primal gravel. Pupils blown wide, the Panthera focused his gaze on the vivid bite mark on your neck. Powerful hips thrusted into you cruelly, chasing after his cardinal need to procreate. Dipping his head, Grimmjows lips found the swell of your breast, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth to clamp his teeth into. The cry you gave only spurred him on to leave his mark. The jagged tenth of his broken hollow mask scraped against your nipple, spike of pleasure burst through the pain.

At your whimper Grimmjow released you, deranged look in his eyes. You flinched when he lowered himself to your face, tilting your head to the side as a strained moan ripped from your throat. Half expecting another bite, your eyes closed, bracing for the new flash of pain. Instead of the sharp bite, you felt his tongue drag slowly up your cheek. The saltiness from your sweat flavoured your skin, Grimmjow hungrily sought out the delicacy, licking at your face protectively.

Rutting instincts being satisfied, the demented haze lessened enough for Grimmjow to filter through is own thoughts and wants. Seeing you panting beneath him, squirming in pleasure, face screwed up in painful bliss was a beautiful sight. But it wasn't what he wanted, what the alpha demanded of his willing mate.

The rough withdrawal of his dick had you gasping at the reprieve, legs fell flat to the bed heavily,muscles twitching in protest. The gap in the brutal penetration was short lived, however, when Grimmjow used his superior strength to throw you to your stomach. Equilibrium fighting to right itself, two large hands gripped painfully into your hips, forcibly dragging you to your knees. Round ass held in the air, glistening cunt on full display for his viewing pleasure.

The Espada slid his hand up the length of your back, cupping the back of your neck to push your face into the mattress. Pushing your hair away from the most delicate part of your neck, portraying the Vulnerable submission the alpha so desperately seeked. He thrusted his dick back into your dripping heat, claiming his mate.

Your back arched at the reappearance of his cock stretching you sinfully. Groaning with the wet slapping of skin meeting skin. Fingers dug into the fleshy part of your ass, kneeling the swell in his palms. Grimmjow had his eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled with every thrust, his cock disappearing into your hot, tight hole. Your wetness spraying out with every plunge, wetting his lower stomach and thighs.

The smell was intoxicating, addicting. Breathing deep he could almost taste the musky aroma, eliciting a feline hiss. His hands spread your ass cheeks revealing your puckered hole. Spitting loudly he watched as his saliva trickled down the valley between your cheeks, sliding over that hidden hole. Using a finger to gather the moisture, not wanting you to bitch at him again, the arrancar pushed his way through the tight ring of muscles.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, spent body easily accepting the new addition as you laid heavily into the mattress. His brutal thrusts hadn't let up through his curious exploration, steadily pushing you further towards the most natural of highs. Grimmjows chest swelled with pride of having calmed both of your holes, muscles squeezing devilishly tight.

The heat encasing his cock was driving him wild, with feral intensity, the instincts to breed filled him. Slipping from your ass, he gripped your hips bruisingly, snapping you back onto his rutting cock brutally. The pleasure filled scream you have had his balls tightening. He could feel the knot forming in the middle of his dick, getting caressed by the tight velvety walls with each drag of his impressive length

"m'gunna fill you full of pups" he growled out, panting harshly "gunna fill your cunt with my seed" 

You scream out in pleasure, the knot forming inside you pushing against your already straining walls, rubbing roughly against your pleasure spot hidden away in your depths. "Your mine" the growled word's emphasised with increasingly powerful thrusts. A hand left your hip, wrapping it around your throat to pull you back into a painful bend. "My mate" 

Sharp teeth sunk into the back of your neck, latching on viciously. Hot pants forced through his teeth, heating up the bruising skin trapped in their hold. A bright light burst from behind your eyes as you descended into euphoric darkness. Violent tremors raked through your body as you convulsed around the dick forcing you into the most powerful orgasm you had ever endured. The strong hold on your neck the only thing keeping you from spiralling into the darkness threatening to pull you under.

The impossibly tight, the cunt surrounding his cock clamped down. Grimmjow erratically rutted into you in short bursts, knot no longer allowing him to pull out from your sopping channel. The knot snapped in a painful burst, seed rushing from him in blinding pleasure. The Panthera released the hold his teeth had on your neck to yowl loudly into the room. Hips stilling as his seed erupted inside you, filling you with his hot cum.

The lustful instinct to mate melted away at his release. Control over his mind filtered back slowly, allowing him to see the state he had left you in. Angry teethmarks sat proudly at the back of your neck. Slumped forward in his hold, your sweat soaked body hung limply, raggedly sucking in desperate breaths.

Laying himself across your back, Grimmjow Manoeuvered you both to lay down on the small bed on your sides. Knotted cock still buried deep inside you, Grimmjow moulded himself to your back, wrapping his arm around you protectively. On the brink of sleep you squirm, wincing at the pinch in your abused pussy caused by the pull of the knot keeping him in.

"stay still" his gruff voice held a semblance care, large hand soothing over the bruises left by his fingers on your hips "y'gotta let it go down or it'll rip ya apart"

Your body pushed to the brink of what it could take started to shiver, muscles periodically twitching as they relaxed. Thinking you were cold, Grimmjow grabbed the sorry excuse for a blanket, draping it over you. Head buried in your neck, Grimmjow soothed the marks left there with his tongue, methodically licking over the wounds, soothing the dull throbbing.

Arm wrapped protectively around you, slowly deflating cock nestled deeply within you, you fell into unconsciousness with Grimmjows cool tongue lapping at your skin. Satisfied you were cleaned up enough, Grimmjow tightened the hold he had on you, savouring the feel of his cock being warmed by your hole, full to the brim with his seed. Burying his head in your hair, letting your smell fill his senses as he joined you in sleep he so desperately needed, whispering a single word as he succumbed to the pull

"mine"

[dreamauri]

Hey girl, if you have the time please could I get charles x fem. Maybe she’s going through a phase where she’s not sleeping very well and exhausted and the Ferrari boys literally find her passed out in the weirdest places 🏎️ thank you x

♪ — 𝗦𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗭 charles leclerc x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . You gain a reputation for your unusual sleeping habits as you travel.”

( general master list | more of charles leclerc ) ( requests | taglist )

Imagine the excitement of Formula 1 world, a chapter filled with adrenaline-fueled action and constant competition on the track. On the other hand. You, amidst the fast paced weekends, are snoozing around the track, catching Zzz.

Your playground is the Formula 1 paddock, and while others are engrossed in the chaos, you find comfort in the most unlikely of locations.

Being the cheeky pair that they are, Carlos and Charles decide to keep track of your peculiar sleeping locations and turn it into a game of "Where will we find you next?"

And taking it to the extent as your self proclaimed "best friend" ( he's crushing on you hard please take the hint ), Charles Leclerc has a designated Instagram highlight, just for you sleeping around in the weirdest places possible.

"Mate!" Carlos called, trying to hold in his laugh. Charles, who has been avidly searching for you for the past thirty minutes, is at loss for words when he sees you sleeping on a random table face down, top half hanging off.Charles looks away trying to hide his smile. "Oh, Mon Dieu." [my god]. "I have to take a picture." Carlos laughed, taking his phone out. In attempt to save you from any further embarrassment, Charles walked towards you, trying to nudge you awake. but to not avail. "I got this, I got this." Carlos ran up to them with an air horn. "Mate dont-" it was too late. Charles was not quick enough o stop Chili. They both watched you stumble and fall forward off the table in shock. "Whered you even get that." Charles looked up at Carlos sighing. You looked up at the two boys, with tired angry eyes. "Run." You said simply making the two Ferrari boys run away immediately, fear stricken in their eyes.

@charles_leclerc posted on his story

seen by landonorris carlossainz55 and 52M others

But it doesn't stop there. Throughout the season, your knack for finding peace in the most unconventional places becomes legendary. You're discovered snoozing in the engineering office, leaning against the SF23, or even draped over a folding chair in the media centre.

Each time, Charles manages to capture the moment, sharing it with his fans on social media, much to everyone's amusement.

As the paddock becomes your bedroom, Charles becomes your self-appointed sleep guardian. He's always on the lookout, ensuring you have a comfy blanket to enhance your slumber. It became his mission to create a haven for you amidst the chaotic world of racing, a place where you can find serenity.

"There you are." Charles mumbles as he finally found you, sleeping on piles and stacks of tires, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a pillow from his drivers room.He crouched down beside you, gently cupping the back of your head and lifting you up to place the plush material under your head. A groan emitted from your mouth, making Charles freeze in panic. Last time he woke you up, it did not end well for him.Once he was sure you were back to sleep, he gently lowered your head onto the pillow, taking his rain jacket off and draping it over your body. "Rest well, Mon amour." He mumbled, wiping a few droplets of rain of your cheek.He was sitting beside you on the floor when you woke up, going through his phone. "Bonjour." [good morning] He hummed, his green coloured eyes crinkling with a smile when he looked at you. You let out a tired hum in acknowledgment, playing with a random string from the jacket. Charles held up a cup of your favourite drink, which he was waiting to give you since he found it. You looked up at him, only meeting eyes with his loving gaze.

-

"I found Miss Snooze!" Charles shouted over the radio, it was FP2 and you were passed out on a random chair beside a camera man. Like the gentle man he is, Charles went back to the garage, got you your favourite pillow and one of his Ferrari jackets ( he could've gotten you a blanket but he wanted you to have something from his, it made his heart flutter when you wore it ). Once he reached you, he parked his car and jumped out, jogging to your side and giving you the premium comfort you deserved. Giving the camera a thumbs up before jumping back in the car.Although he didn't have his phone to take a photo this time, the camera man made sure to capture the whole thing for him.

Charles' dream finally came true when he found himself taking a nap beside you on a pile of race suits. Carlos was the one to snap the photo, a picture to keep for the blooming relationship.

[astonmartingf]

YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND—

— co-parenting with alonso has been smooth sailing, until he starts dropping hints that he wants to be with you again

P7 ★ WHEN IN DOUBT, BLAME ALPINE

amgf ahhh it's sad, but we're getting there, because all things must come to an end. honestly i had a hard time writing this because how do i end things and let go of them? it's a struggle really but we work with it. like always, enjoy this chapter 👍

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You stand still, silence surrounding the kitchen. There were no more words left to say, as they all left your mouth in utter silence. You watch Ales' from the baby monitor set on the kitchen island, sleeping in peace— content, calm, without a worry of the world.

You'd do everything for your son, you'd do anything for this family, and what Alonso did— you couldn't let it pass by you.

The familiar squeak of the front door hinges swept you off your own thoughts. Staring at the tiled walls in the kitchen, you rely on your senses anticipating Fernando as his shadows inch closer to yours.

"Hey."

Jerking from the warm touch of his palms against your cold shoulder. You stand still, Fernando presses his weight on your back, pulling you in an embrace, leaving soft kisses from your neck trailing down to your shoulders. You sigh in content, hoping and praying to forget as you blissfully ignore the slowly building concerns looming over your head.

"Amor, how was your day?"

You look over the ceiling, biting your lip to alleviate the anger filling up your thoughts. Tongue in cheek, you gather up some form of courage to calmly get through the upcoming conversation without shouting or bursting into tears. You give him the benefit of the doubt though, maybe they were just run of the mill rumors to form clicks for views.

"Have you seen my messages?" You gulp down your sighs, surprised at the shaky tone of your own voice. You wanted more than to be out of this conversation, as the constant feeling bubbling inside you loomed heavier and heavier, waiting in anticipation at the culmination of your emotions, at your poor attempts at keeping them at bay.

"I haven't yet, why? Did you want me to buy something for Ales?" You turn around stopping him from reading your message, wanting to avoid the conversation for a later time, choosing to drown in the burden of your own thoughts.

Fernando was a beat earlier than you— you panic as the smile in his eyes fell at a glance of your message.

"You knew?" Your brows furrowed, fully taking in his words, "I knew? Is it true? Are you racing again?"

Fernando's eyes looked over yours, "Isn't this exciting? I never thought I would have a chance to race again, but they offered and I accepted it."

You stumble backwards, at a loss for words. And slowly, the thoughts clouding in your head were becoming a reality.

Fernando catches your silence and reluctance to the news, pulling away from you, his hands cup the apples of your cheeks leaving you no choice to look at him.

"Are you not happy? This is good isn't it?"

You stare at his eyes, shining in excitement at the thought of racing once more. The idea never even entered your head, you never thought that Fernando would want to get back to racing.

You gulp the bile forming to jump out your throat, nodding your head— not trusting your own words. "Yeah. It's good to be back Fer."

yourusername 11/21/2021

liked by nicorosberg and 21 others

yourusername beach day with uncle nico is a must in monaco

"YN talk to me, why can't we be together? You think I'll just accept this? Explain to me please, tell me where I did you wrong. What did I do? Is this about racing? Again?" Fernando runs to catch you in your shared bedroom, trying to keep up with the pace you set, sliding inside before you ought to close the door on him.

You turn around, mouth hanging wide, "Again? Is that all you think about? Racing? What about our family? You didn't even tell me about your choice, what was I supposed to say to you? You already made the decision for yourself!"

Fernando scoffs at your words, "You should've said you didn't like it! Why are you blaming me for your lack of communication?"

"You're one to talk about communication, you didn't bother telling me, I was blindsided Fer! One second I thought we'd live like a normal family and the next you're back racing every other week and you're leaving us behind!" You throw your hands in frustration and confusion as you try to get your point across to him.

Fernando put his palms up his face, at a loss for words. "Why are you getting ahead of yourself? Are you even listening to what you said? You're my wife for God's sake, we have a son together why would I leave you? It'll just be like before, I will come back to you two."

Fernando rubs your shoulders in an attempt to comfort you, in the hopes you'd understand his concerns.

"You say that, but we've been there already Fer. I single handedly witnessed everything that has happened to you while racing, and with Ales— I don't think I can... I don't think I want to constantly be on the edge of my seat worrying for tomorrow, and what will happen to you on the track."

With the tension up, words were spouted left and right, with no time to think before speaking, the arguments echoed back and forth to each other.

"Oh so you're giving up on us now?"

You scoff at Fernando's words, "Giving up? You did that first when you chose the racing contract over this family!"

Raising his hands, Fernando shouts in anger, "I just wanted to race, is it bad to pursue my passion? I support you in your career, can't I have that as well? It is my choice! At least we didn't get married yet if we're going to be like this then?"

You stand in silence, tears pooling at your eyes, feeling your world stop. In front of you, you watch Fernando shake his head at the realization of his words. "Amor—"

You step away from him, your shaky breaths fill the room clutching your chest, suffocating at your misery. Trying to drown out Fernando's pleas, erasing his words from your head, despite it being etched into every crevice in your head, taking home in your hollow heart.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that— no amount of words can ever make it better. Please say something? Tell me you hate me? Please amor, resent me. Whatever you want I will do."

You watch Fernando wince at your bloodshot eyes, as he reluctantly inches closer to you, afraid you'd leave him, like a glass slowly falling out of his hands. It was far too late now.

You let him in your embrace, knowing very well it would be the last time you'd see him, choosing yourself this time— choosing your son over the family you built together. You let yourself wallow in the last moments of comfort in his arms, because after this it'll just be you.

"Whatever? Then I guess I'm taking Alejandro with me. We're leaving so you can focus on your race. I hope you know that even then and now, I will be waiting. As much as it hurts— this needs to be done. I love you Alonso."

Pushing him away from your embrace, you savor in a last kiss before leaving him alone in the room.

yourusername 6/29/2022

liked by lancestroll and 33 others

yourusername happiest birthday to the light of my life ales. mama and papa love you always, i hope to fill your life with love and laughter.

★ YOU'VE BEEN ON MY MIND — @namgification @nebarious @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @lxclerc @booksandflowrs @c-losur3 @lichterfee @moonyzsworld @e-nonsense @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @thearchieves @welovediaaxx @vogueprincess @mael1pastry @khaylin27 @whydowesleepeachnight @iridescent-sol

[neuvislover]

☆༉ — 𝒜 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇.

tags. stomach aches, gn!reader, comfort, established relationship

pairing. lyney, wriothesly

request. Hii !! I wanted to ask for a lyney and wriothesley (seperate) x reader where reader gets injured/hurt (like example toothache, period cramps, or whatever like anything in that field) but they feel bad for complaining since reader lyney and wriothesley have taken more pain and reader thinks they have experienced nothing compared to them no matter how painful it is for reader,

LYNEY ༉⋆｡˚

You had always admired Lyney for his strength and resilience. Being an agent, he often faced dangerous situations with a smile, hiding any discomfort or pain behind a façade of charisma and mystery. It was a trait you both admired and envied, especially on days like today when you struggled to keep a brave face.

The sun was setting over Fontaine, casting a warm glow across the bustling marketplace. You and Lyney walked side by side, enjoying the evening air after a long day. Normally, these moments fill you with peace, but today, you couldn't ignore the dull, persistent ache in your lower abdomen. it had been bothering you for days now, escalating to a point where it was almost unbearable. But every time you thought of telling him, you reminded yourself of Lyney's struggles. Compared to him, your pain seemed like nothing.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Lyney's voice broke through your thoughts. his voice was gentle but laced with concern. "I'm fine," you lied, "Just a little tired."

Lyney stopped, gently taking your hand to halt your pace as well. his eyes narrowed slightly. He was perceptive, especially when it came to you. "You don't look fine. he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You know you can tell me if something's wrong."

You hesitated, but give in, knowing you could not keep the truth from him any longer. "It's just cramps. Really, it's nothing." you paused "It's nothing compared to what you've been through." Lyney's expression softened, "Pain is never nothing," he said gently. "Just because I've faced different kinds of pain doesn't mean yours isn't real or important."

You looked down, feeling a bit foolish. "This is just… a small thing."

Lyney shook his head, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. "Every person has their limits. Don't minimize what you're feeling just because you think someone else has it worse." Lyney's words were a comforting embrace to your anxious heart. You suddenly understood how unfairly you had been treating yourself, minimizing your pain because you felt it wasn't as significant.

"Thank you, Lyney," you whispered, "Anytime," he replied. "Now, let's get you something warm to drink."

WRIOTHESLEY༉⋆｡˚

The clang of iron gears echoed through the corridors of the Fortress of Meropide, a stark reminder of where you were. You had been visiting Wriothesley, hoping to catch a moment with him amidst his busy schedule. Today, however, you were struggling to focus. A persistent ache in your lower abdomen had bothered you all morning, and the constant pain was unbearable. You bit down on your lip, trying to mask the discomfort.

Wriothesley had endured so much in his life—the physical battles, the responsibilities of managing the prison, and the weight of countless decisions. Even as each throb sent a wave of pain through you, you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to appear weak.

As you climbed the dimly lit stairways to his office. looking through paperwork, noticing you, his stern expression softened into a warm smile. "Hey sweetheart," he greeted, "What brings you here today?"

"I just wanted to see you," you replied. Wriothesley looked concerned. "Is everything okay?" You shook your head quickly. "I'm fine," you said, but he could tell something was wrong. "You're not a good liar, you know. What's bothering you?"

You hesitated, not wanting to admit the truth. "It's nothing serious, just a stomach ache. It's silly."

Wriothesley's expression softened, but there was also a hint of sternness. Leaning back in his chair, "Come here," he said, patting his lap. Obeying his request, you sat on his lap as he softly rubbed your stomach. “It’s not silly if it’s hurting you."

"But compared to everything you've been through—" you began, but he cut you off. "Don't compare your pain to mine," he said firmly, his voice gentle but authoritative. "Everyone has different thresholds and experiences. Your pain is just as valid. " You looked down, feeling a mix of embarrassment. "I just didn't want to seem weak."

Wriothesley sighed. "Recognizing pain isn't a sign of weakness. It's a sign of being human. Even the strongest people have moments of vulnerability." He frowned. "You need to take care of yourself. Pain like that shouldn't be ignored."

Wriothesley stared down at you, his hand still on your stomach, providing a comforting presence. "And if you ever feel like this, no matter how small you think it is, tell me. I want to be there for you, just like you're always there for me."

You leaned into him, finding comfort in him. Whispering a "Thank you," you felt a burden disappear from your shoulders.

[soapoet]

What makes you different...

...from their previous partners?

requested by anon.

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Your person has been through it, and you may have too, which for many of you forms a deep understanding regarding fears of repeating the type of betrayal you have both seen. In comparison to their past rendezvous, they find your relationship very secure. They feel free to voice their thoughts and feelings without guilt or shame, or outright fear of retaliation as they've grown to expect misunderstandings and gaslighting. For many, they have been cheated on, so your honesty, integrity, and loyalty sets you apart from their prior experiences.

I see them taken aback quite often. Their previous relations may have trained them to always anticipate the worst, so the clarity in your communication and how you handle conflict takes them by surprise. They're used to shouting matches and slamming doors. You express yourself when you are hurt in ways that does not tear them down. There's no eye for an eye with you because you're not as spiteful as their past lovers. Really, they simply put don't need to fear you.

They could have remnants of a jealous streak, though it transforms into a protective nature over time as they come to find that they truly can trust you. You play no games made for them to lose, and you do not go out of your way to cause them jealousy or fear the end of the relationship. You're understanding even when you air your grievances, and wish to solve problems rather than create new ones and make it worse and make them regretful they every said anything at all.

They feel safe to allow you much further into their internal world than others before you because you are respectful of what lies beyond the surface and beyond. You're neither judgemental or cruel, petty, and neither are you a bully. The way the two of you are able to relate to each other's history and defining moments inspires an unspoken promise to keep each other safe, and never trespass against boundaries or breaking any agreed upon rules.

Passion, they'll find, holds hands with love, not just with hate. They find your unquenchable thirst and will to engage with and pursue your desires intoxicating. You inspire them where others have knocked them down or ridiculed them. You encourage their passion and make them feel appreciated, even admired. Others have forced them to turn cold, but you reignite their emotional expression, awakening it from its hibernation so that it may come out to play in your spring weather.

02.

Your person has often resorted to selective hearing just to keep themselves both calm and sane. Friends and family would tell them frequently how poorly they choose their partners. They are not quite certain how or why they wound up repeating patterns in the past. Acting on impatience infused impulse they would take prospective partners at face value and believe their facades, exaggerations, and lies. Then before they'd know it, they'd find themselves in commitment with someone falling short of their ideals and what they thought they were signing themselves up for based on promising beginnings which quickly turned sour.

I see them in the past dealing with people first seemingly so deserving of worshipping, only for the tune to change to simply entitled and bratty very quickly. You are clear in your expectations and standards, but you're not loud in your demands, and to them it is refreshing that you rarely make them. This causes them to really take the demands you do make to heart and try to give you what you want or need, or try in earnest to find compromise where needed. After so many partners chewing them out and complaining about this and that at a constant flow of negativity, you're a shocking change of pace.

You're not needlessly argumentative and choose your battles wisely. They're used to practically carrying their partners away from conflict and praying to higher beings they won't even start when they'd just like a peaceful outing or a nice afternoon. The only drama you bring to the table is gossip shared for the two of you to joke about together like best friends, not the kind where they are expected to end fights you started.

By comparison to past lovers, you are mature and ooze worthiness, the kind you don't need to be so loud about. What comes to mind is the demands of princess treatment vs. earning queen treatment. Their past is full of rather immature partners who rarely pursued their own goals, and your ambition, self awareness and sense of self worth rather than ego and chasing empty applause makes them view you as an equal who is truly worth their time, money, effort, and devotion. You're on the same wavelength and it makes the whole power couple thing come so much more naturally.

Not to mention you're much better received by their friends and family. They really have no concerns about bringing you home to meet their family because they know how you carry yourself with grace, and how your charm is genuine. You're very natural and likeable, and don't try too hard. Loved ones may very quickly tell them not to screw this up, and make sure you're always comfortable and feel welcome in their homes, and begin nudging your person very early on to put a ring on it.

03.

Your person has very little experience before you, possibly none for some, at least nothing serious enough to write home about. You fit their idea of love very well, however, and they can feel surprised by how well things go with you. They've heard horror stories from friends and read the reddit posts about wildly tumultuous relationships, and be shocked by their first serious relationship with you.

It's just so easy. You compete only with their solitude, and always seem to win. They find themselves at peace with you more than they ever expected to when sharing so much time and space with another. Things weren't supposed to work out so well in this day and age, and the romcoms were exaggerations, right? Yet they find your relationship so sweet, and stable in its simplicity.

They have a past with some kind of toxicity aimed at them. For some this is family, for others it's a friend. Either way they've been used to making themselves small and to take on burdens of others by force. Emotional labour performed with a gun to their head. They have no qualms about caring for you, and are in fact more than happy to be at your beck and call because you're encouraging of them too. It's quite sad to say, but it seems that either in their family or amongst their peers they've often wound up with a target on their back solely for, well, being an easy target.

You help them stand up for themself, and help them overcome a lot of things which cause them anxiety. They're able to share their thoughts and feelings, express their excitement about their interests and feel heard when they're with you. You may very well share quite a few interests in common, which to them is an entirely new concept as they're used to others finding their interests dumb, childish, or useless. You seem to make equally amazing friends and lovers.

They're very clever and you're one of the first to give them credit for it. You're able to gently coax them out of their shell, and their otherwise cautious nature shifts to a more adventurous and daring one. And this all by no means require great efforts on your part, as by simply being your usual self makes them feel safe enough to be themselves too. You're quite similar in many ways, though you differ in how you come to the same conclusions on different topics, and these variables are small but delightful surprises for the two of you to rejoice over and discuss. You're a very healing and brightening connection in their life, and as thanks they'd fetch you the moon if they could.

04.

There is a lot of chemistry between you and your person, much more than they have experienced in previous relationships. That's not to say they have necessarily all been bad, they just lacked this kind of easy yet electrifying, "meeting of the minds" -type of chemistry. Their past lovers have been drama-free and they've enjoyed very stable relationships, albeit very milquetoast in comparison to you and the relationship you provide. Don't take this the wrong way, but they dated "perfect" long enough to realise it is merely good enough, and you with your various hiccups are more interesting and much more worth their attention. Imperfections are needed and challenges are opportunities to strengthen bonds in ways "perfect" cannot.

Though many of their previous partners have, like they themself, been stable and secure, they have also felt taken for granted, and in some instances, taken advantage of. They're a very reliable and caring person, but have not always had the best luck in terms of finding reciprocal love. More often than not, affections quickly grew monotonous and became routine, leaving them under the impression that love is just that, routine. Gifts and attention easily grew to be something expected of them rather than something truly appreciated and met with gratituse and adoration.

They're dutiful in all areas of life, but find a new pep in their step regarding their romantic duties thanks to you. They find you delightful and full of surprises. The latter being something they perhaps thought was a bad thing for a long time. You keep them on their toes a little. Enough to excite them and keep the sparks flying, but not to the point of making them nauseous. You're different from them, and as they previously dated people much too similar to themself, you're a welcome breath of fresh air, like coming face to face with the sea and its breeze for the first time.

They feel a sense of freedom with you that they never found in their past relationships. Sometimes they may have walked on eggshells, but most of all I see them often turning into a shell of their true self. In their pursuit to stick to a comfortable routine and not upset their previous partners with anything too wild or crazy, they held back on things they wanted, and put running the day to day smoothly above their own interests and whims. Through you they reconnect with these things, and you inspire them to reach for new opportunities and tap into their slumbering zest for life.

The nostalgia you evoke by merely daring to stay true to yourself, speaking your mind and pursuing your own adventures makes their efforts of creating stability in your relationship actually feel worthwhile and welcome. You fascinate them, and every day they learn something new about or through you, which makes them feel more alive. They find themselves reminiscing about how they used to be before, until they slowly take their power back and align more with their true self. Their attraction to you never seems to dull down and they more readily show their appreciation and love for you. You inspire a greater sense of romance in them, and have them thinking very differently about love. Where they previously had their linear idea of how a relationship progresses, they suddenly take more risks and stop thinking about things so meticulously and leave some things up to chance. Where once they would've waited 5 years to propose, they no longer feel the need for these arbitrary and restrictive milestones and simply propose when it feels right.

05.

Your person is quite the whirlwind. They've explored many options in love and life, or at the very least had plenty of offers. None of them ever fit quite right, though, and many may have accused them of being too picky or unreliable due to their flighty nature. You're more akin to them, and balanced in all the right places to match their energy. There is a healthy kind of push and pull between you which keeps things interesting in the long run. Many before you have been demanding in terms of commitment and how that commitment is supposed to look like, and how and when things are meant to unfold. Your love isn't like clockwork, and though you have your ideas and hopes for the future of the relationship, you don't make demands and nag them down to the bone when things don't happen on your schedule.

This actually leaves room for their spontaneity, and keeps their interest alive and well, inspiring them to take bigger leaps in love precisely because restraints don't weigh them down. Others before you have been a little too predictable for them. The scheduling types with their plethora of to-do lists and colour coded planners which only makes them anxious and has them running for the hills. You're willing to explore and experience life, and they appreciate your willingness to at least give things a try, even when you're scared or uncertain.

This isn't to say they would push you beyond your limits or cross boundaries. They've simply dealt with a lot of naysayers and those who are never up to the challenge and would rather not invest their time or energy into something unknown. Unlike those before you, you take a bite of that unfamiliar food, agree to watch the pilot of that show, or pack a weekend bag on short notice to get out of town for an impromptu getaway.

Best of all, when you don't wish to leave your comfort zone you allow them the freedom to venture out on their own, without guilt tripping them into staying or blowing up their phone when they're away, freaking out when they don't respond immediately, or otherwise make their free spirit out to be the worst thing in the world. They return the same energy to you and have no qualms about your individual pursuits and are very encouraging of your prospects, opportunities, and ideas.

I see them watching you sometimes as you engage excitedly with something new that's caught your interest, and they wonder why your kind is so rare. From their perspective, as an eternal seeker, they've met and mingled with so many people, and few have truly been so excitable, finding joy in small things and not being so afraid of the unknown and unexplored. Your aversion of uncertainty and change is healthy, not the kind that immediately loses its marbles and makes mere suggestions out to be a big and horrid deal that threatens to ruin the day. They really revel in the trust that you have in them, which in turn makes them choose to be deserving of that trust every day.

06.

Soapy scribbles: If you're not in the right head space to hear mentions of abuse and trauma, I encourage you to leave this reading for another time. Take good care of yourself, ok? ♡

This one is heavy. Your person has a difficult history with abuse and addiction. Their previous lovers have been unstable and caused them a lot of grief. You're the polar opposite of their previous entanglements, and they are in awe of the fact something so gentle could touch their heart. For a long time they may have blamed themselves and thought they deserved these bad memories. They're hard on themselves and have a lot of guilt and shame for their past mistakes, and may have taken their past abuse as punishment they deserved. Of course they are wrong, and you help them see this.

You allow them room to grow. You're patient where others have given up on them or turned to verbal or even physical harm against them when they haven't performed quite to the standards set upon them. They may genuinely be shaken by your genuine kindness towards them and wonder what they did right to find an end to their darkness.

I must honestly say that I view their previous partners very poorly. You couldn't be more different than what they have seen before you came into their life. The difference is like night and day. You do not keep them walking on eggshells and do not shift from peace to war at the drop of a hat. You're generous with your time and you're understanding of their scars. They need not hide their pain from you lest you would use it against them.

Your presence in their life rewires so many things that were previously all tangled up by others before you. They're able to safely work out their difficulties and face their fears with you by their side. They take your advice and apply it knowing that they can trust you. You may fear dependency, but really I'm seeing them growing whole within themselves by your influence and becoming stronger and more independent as a result of your connection. It's much akin to a phoenix rising from the ashes. Like you found faintly glowing embers in the dark, stuck around quietly watching, and got a fiercly loyal and protective beast for seemingly just being a good person.

They're inspired by your own resilience and strength. Many of you may have been through very dark nights and dying embers too, and your survival story helps motivate them to pursue happiness as something they, too, deserve, and will do anything to return this favour to you for the stability you provided them when they needed it the most.

[daydreaming-away-reality]

One Step Back

Jack Frost x Reader | ☁️ + ☔ + 🌠 | 7.7k | Grim Reaper!Reader

Warning: mentions of death, lots of angst

You quietly sat there, staring at the chess pieces deep in thought. The occasional breeze caused the slight creaking noises from the metal décor in the dimly lit space.

Something about the silence brought you a sense of a comfort. Compared to the cries of despair that had recently filled your ears, sitting in front of a very slow strategy game was something you preferred.

“Going to just stare at the pieces all day?”

The deep voice caused you to look up at the yellow coloured eyes that pierced into your own (E/C) eyes, you merely shrugged.

“Perhaps.”

“Not all of us have time to spare,” he responded.

“Time is irrelevant when you’re immortal,” you commented. You rested your chin on your palm as you looked straight into his eyes. “You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have the time.”

Pitch let out a hum of acknowledgement but made no further comment. As your chess partner, you knew he had grown use to your slow pacing. What you lacked in speed made up for in strategy though - it was enough to keep you and Pitch to play chess ever since the two of you had met. 

Sliding a piece across the board, you let out your breath as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Good game,” you softly said.

Pitch frowned as he leaned forward to check your move. As the results dawned on him, he gave a small nod.

“Good game,” he echoed.

The King of Nightmares turned his attention to you, looking at you as if he were trying to figure something out. 

“Something on your mind?”

Your constant poker face was a difficult expression to read, but somehow Pitch had a way of telling when there was something on your mind. As a grim reaper, your life was pretty monotonous. You learn about the next soul put under your care and you bring them to the afterlife when the time comes. When that was done, the cycle would repeat itself.

From serial killers to the rare newborn infant, you had seen souls at every stage of their life leave this world. 

You lived your life among humans, even though you had not been human for the past couple hundred years. Many people who lived around you didn’t see you unless you chose to be seen, letting you live your peaceful life of solitude easier. 

After having this role for so many years, you thought that things would get easier. To live with humans, watch them experience grief and pain.

From the few social gatherings with other grim reapers you had attended, you had soon realized you were softer than the others. Your job records were beautiful, but something always stuck with you.

It wasn’t easy experiencing death all the time.

It never got easier.

While this was a common experience for many new grim reapers that would eventually be accustomed, you still found yourself struggling sometimes.

“You’re too kind, (Y/N). All we need to do is make sure their soul moves on. We’re not doing anything bad.”

Even though all of that was true, the fear in the eyes of some people you were assigned to made you wonder how terrifying you were. What you resembled clearly brought a myriad of emotions, but fear was the most common one. 

“Nothing new,” you finally replied. 

Pitch gave you a look of inquiry but didn’t push any further.

He stood up, walking over to the globe in his lair. Little lights glittered across the world, showing the children of the world who believed in the Guardians.

“If the balance of the world were to change, would you be on my side?” Pitch asked.

Tilting your head, you let his words simmer in your head. 

You had never met any of the Guardians, but you recognized their role in the world. From knowing Pitch, you also knew he had a role to play in the world as well. While some saw fear as a bad thing, you recognized that some people grew stronger from their fears. Not everyone, but some rare cases.

Having heard about the last time Pitch had challenged the Guardians and failed, you knew there was bad blood between the Guardians and the Boogeyman.

If you had a to pick a side though...

You knew your role was one that would be forever bound to your duties. Wars could be fought and whatever decision you made would be insignificant.

“Death takes no sides, Pitch,” you answered with resolve. “So, I would not choose a side either.”

“Is that so?”

Even though he didn’t turn around to look at you, you gave him an uncertain small nod. Some things were inevitable, whether you desired so or not.

Sitting down on your couch and peering out the window with a warm cup of tea in your hand, you watched the rain pour down from the sky. Snuggled into your blankets, you listened to the pattering of raindrops against the glass.

Today was one of those dreary days - one that brought out sad emotions among people. The kind of day that had people mourning their lost ones.

Luckily for you, you had the day off. Or at least, you thought you could afford the day off. 

A letter appeared on the coffee table before you brought a sigh to your lips.

Setting your cup down, you lifted the letter up carefully and checked the name. 

Amber Miller.

Carefully inscribed under the name were the date of when they were born and the death.

Noting the death date, you paused. Doing some quick calculations, you realized that Amber was still young - a child. A frown appeared on your face as you stared at the simple card. 

Most of the time, you received names of those who experienced life longer than this. Chewing on your lip, you wondered if it was a good idea to go check in on this young girl now. Usually you appeared a few days before their death to see if you should make contact with the person, but with younger ones... You tried to spend more time with them so they wouldn’t be scared when time came for them.

When your eyes flickered back to the world outside your window, you noticed the rain had become little snowflakes dancing their way around the sky. 

Weather permitting or not, perhaps it would be good to step out of your house to do a check in. Amber had a week to live.

Pulling on your closet open, you stared at the various dark coloured pieces of clothing staring back at you. Like other grim reapers, your clothing mostly consisted of black, to be respectful to the dead, to not draw attention to yourself and follow the policies in place for grim reapers.

Slipping into a simple black knit sweater and skirt, you made yourself presentable. Finishing off the look with some boots, you grabbed a jacket just in case. Having gone through the process of getting ready to meet your next assignment so many times before, you weren’t too concerned.

Taking a deep breath, you opened your bedroom door and walked out of the bus shelter. The power to transport yourself through doors was one that all grim reapers had. No one around you noticed you, making everything go smoothly.

Following your instincts, you walked towards the nearby hospital. Walking past the receptionists and other patients, you immediately recognized the young brunette who was pressed up against the glass staring at the snow in awe.

Something about her soul seemed familiar to you, but you weren’t sure why. 

She was dressed in the typical patient attire with a paper wristband on, confirming your suspicions around why you were here. Amber was sick.

Walking over until you were standing next to her, you turned to watch the snow with her.

“I wish I could go outside and feel the snow,” she commented.

With no one else around, you decided to check your suspicions. 

“Would you like to step outside with me for a bit?” you asked quietly.

Amber’s brown eyes looked up at you with excitement. “Really?”

You nodded, offering your hand out to her. “Really, we’ll only be out for a moment, so nobody will even notice we’re gone.”

The enthusiastic nod and hand now in yours confirmed things. She could see you. While most grim reapers didn’t like showing themselves before it was time, the fear of growing emotional attachments was common, you made the effort.

“I’m Amber. What’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you.”

Walking down a quieter hallway, you lead the two of you towards the small outdoor space on the side of this hospital wing. No one would step out in this weather, so it’d make it easier for the two of you. Taking Amber outside, you shrugged off your jacket and slipped it around her shoulders the moment you two were outside.

“Will you be cold?” she asked, eyes wide as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.

You shook your head. “I’ll be okay.”

The oversized jacket on her made you smile as she excitedly tried to catch snowflakes on her tongue. The sight of someone who was still so hopeful towards life, you could feel a deep sense of sadness within you. As you looked up at the sky, the sound of another voice surprised you.

“You don’t look dressed for the winter weather.”

Attention immediately moving towards the source, you found yourself staring at a boy with beautiful blue eyes and silvery white hair. An amused quirk of a smile graced his lips as he held onto a wooden staff in his hands.

“Jack!” Amber excitedly called out as she threw herself his way. “You made it snow!”

“Ahaha, I did. I’m glad you have the chance to step outside to see it today.” Jack responded, ruffling her hair.

Your brain raced to figure out an explanation for what was happening. Amber called this newcomer Jack and associated him with the snow. Somehow this sounded familiar. As your brain tried to make a connection between the information you just received with what you knew, Jack turned his attention to you once more.

He looked you over, taking in your black attire. 

“Who this with you, Amber?”

You straightened up. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Oh, so you can see me,” Jack said with a surprised tone. He held out his hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You hesitated but shook his hand.

Sensing something happening inside the hospital, you pushed the door back open. “I think we should head back inside, Amber. Make sure no one noticed us sneaking away.”

“Oh, okay!” The brunette jumped up and hurried to your side. She turned around to wave at Jack. “Bye Jack!”

You looked at Jack once more, information finally clicking in place.

Jack Frost - the Guardian of Fun. 

Ducking your head, you let the door shut behind you before escorting Amber back to her room. The energetic girl was about to pull off your jacket, but you stopped her.

“Keep it,” you encouraged. “It looks better on you than it does on me.”

“Thank you!” she responded gleefully. As she sat down on her bed, she looked up at you.

“Is there anything you want to do this week, Amber?” you asked, sitting down next to her.

The young girl thought about your words and responded with a small shrug.

“I’m not sure.” Her honest words brought a small smile to your face. “Will I see you again, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “I’ll come by and visit again tomorrow, how does that sound?”

Amber nodded. “Okay.”

Getting up, you gently pet her head. “Be a good girl for the nurses, okay?”

“I always am!”

You smiled. Slipping out of the room, you glanced back once before moving to leave the hospital.

As you stepped out of the hospital, you weren’t paying attention to the person rushing towards the doors and didn’t have any time to react. Shutting your eyes, you felt a breeze as they ran through you.

It was moments like these when you were reminded of your place in the world.

Not alive but living as if you were.

Just as you walked away from the hospital, a cool breeze ruffled your hair and someone fell into step beside you.

“So you’re a spirit as well,” Jack commented.

You looked at him. “Is... there something I can help you with?”

Surprised by your question, Jack shook his head.

“No, it’s just, we haven’t met before and I was curious about you.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to face him. Eyes shifting to meet his, you could see the confusion on his face.

“I’m a grim reaper.”

This new information startled him. 

Walking away, you spotted the same bus shelter and headed towards it. Having met Amber now, you had a lot on your thoughts and wanted to go home. It took a moment, but you heard Jack hurrying to catch up to you.

“Really?”

“Most people don’t want to interact with me when they know that,” you said, stopping by the bus shelter door.

“Well, you’re the first grim reaper I’ve met,” Jack responded. He paused and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Amber... there’s a reason you’re visiting her, isn’t there?”

You nodded. 

Hoping to end the conversation there, you pulled open the bus shelter door and stepped through. 

“Wait - !”

As you appeared back in your own house, Jack appeared from behind, coming through the same door you had.

The surprise the two of you shared came from very different reasons. 

You had no idea anyone could follow you through the doors. Meanwhile, Jack had no idea where you had transported the two of you to. 

“Where are we...?” Jack asked, speaking up first.

“Home. My home,” you clarified as you pulled your boots off and put them aside. Letting out a sigh, you sat down on your couch before deciding to address Jack. “Amber has one week left - I don’t plan on taking her until her time ends.”

“Why did you visit her today then?” Jack moved to sit on the armchair perpendicular to you. His tone was genuine - encouraging you to speak.

You curled up, wrapping your arms around your legs. Trying to make yourself smaller, you tried your best to pull your words together. “Life’s... not fair and death doesn’t discriminate. She’s so young... I want to make sure her last days go well at least.”

There was a blanket of silence that fell over you two. As Jack took in your words, you blankly stared at the envelope that rested on your coffee table. With how many letters you had received over the years, you had lost track of how many cases you had dealt with. 

“Maybe I can help?”

Jack’s offer caused you to look up. 

“I’m not sure what I can do, but I want to try to help,” Jack elaborated. 

“That’s nice of you, but... are you sure?” You could tell he had good intentions behind his words but you knew the choice he was making was one with difficulties that he wouldn’t realize until the pain weighed down on him. 

You were too familiar with that feeling to wish it upon anyone.

Death took a toll not only on the person who experienced it, but everyone around them as well. 

The confused look on Jack’s face indicated that he didn’t know about these effects.

“Losing someone isn’t easy,” you explained. “Do you really want to put yourself through that kind of pain?”

Your words seemed to reach him in some way as Jack’s shoulders slumped and he looked down at the ground. His silence filled the air, and you didn’t know what to do or say. 

“I know, I’ve lost people in my life before,” Jack softly responded, his words coming out slowly as he formulated his thoughts. You could tell what he experienced weighed down on him. 

It made you wonder if he had what it took to be grim reaper.

Honestly, you weren’t sure you were cut out for this line of work either. Yet here you were, a couple hundred years in and still going with no end in sight. 

“If I can do something about it and make a difference, I think it’s worth the pain.” 

His optimistic answer had you turning your gaze back outside to watching the snow fall outside the window.

“If that’s what you wish, I cannot stop you.”

“I look forward to working with you then, (Y/N).”

When you had tried to sleep that night, the sound of crying from your past kept you up.

“Time to go,” you softly urged the crying soul. 

They looked up at you, tears still streaming down their face. In the brief moments of realizing their own death, they still carried the burdens of life they experienced.

“There were still things I wanted to do. It isn’t fair,” they wailed. “Can’t I.... Can’t you do anything about it?”

Regrets. 

Almost every soul had them.

You waited. It was difficult to communicate with anyone when they were this emotional. Once the crying had been reduced to sniffles, you finally responded.

You shook your head, looking over at the unfortunate accident that left them lifeless. “You are no longer part of this world, don’t worry about things like that.”

“A little more time... I wish I had a little more time to do the things I wanted to do...”

The clear skies above held promise of a good day ahead. You stifled back a yawn as you made your way to the hospital. Restless nights were common but it never affected your work.

Once you arrived, you paused by the reception. When the receptionist looked up, their eyes met yours.

“I’m here to visit Amber Miller,” you said. “I’ll be taking her out a bit.”

"Alright,” the receptionist spoke in a trance. There was a cloudy look to their eyes. 

When you turned away, you could hear them resuming to their work as if the encounter between the two of you never happened. 

Walking into Amber’s room, you could see her face light up when she saw you.

“(Y/N)!”

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. “You ready to go?”

She bobbed her head enthusiastically. After you reminded her to dress for the weather, she quickly bundled up before standing in front of you. 

Taking her hand, the two of you walked through the hallways unnoticed and made your way outside.

A figure showed up with a chilly gust before the two of you.

“Jack!” Amber exclaimed.

“Sorry for running late,” Jack said with a smile. His blue eyes flickered over to yours, trying to get a read of your placid expression but unable to do so. He turned back to Amber. “The snow is perfect for building snowmen, you up for it?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s go then.” You acknowledged Jack. With him leading the way, your (E/C) eyes wandered back, noticing another grim reaper leading a soul away. 

Hospitals were always a busy place for grim reapers. 

“Here we are!” Jack cheered as you all arrived an untouched patch of snow. “The perfect spot, if I do say so myself.”

“(Y/N),” Amber said with a tug on your hand. “Can you help me build a snow bear?”

“A snow bear?” you asked, a smile on your face. “It’s been a while since I’ve built anything in the snow, but sure!”

“Yay! Let’s build a super big one! You and Jack are in charge of the head then.”

You exchanged a look with Jack as Amber scurried off to start her snowball. 

“You heard her,” you said, tilting your head at Amber. Pulling out gloves from your pocket, you slipped them on. “I’m going to need your expert help if we’re going to make this the best snow bear.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” 

After letting Jack start off the snowball (he had made the bold claim that yours wasn’t good enough and that was thrown at him with a feigned cry of offense), the two of you worked together in creating a head for Amber’s snow bear.

With a lot of playing in the snow between you, Jack and Amber, the day passed by quickly. Letting Jack do the heavy lifting, the snow bear was nearing its completion. 

Watching Amber giddily bounce around the two of you, you couldn’t help but smile. 

“We’re still missing the face,” you commented.

“I got it!” Amber exclaimed, holding out some rocks. 

You crouched down and held your arms out to Amber. Her eyes lit up when she realized what you were offering. Moving into your arms, you lifted her up so she could have a better reach of adding the face to her snow bear. 

As she added the final touches, your (E/C) eyes met a pair of blue ones. Jack had moved to stand next to you without you noticing. While it had not startled, you were suddenly aware of how things were feeling like an intimate family moment.

“Ta-da!” Amber cheered as she put on the final rock.

You and Jack let out some cheers as well. Considering the fact that you had never made a snow bear before, this one was pretty cute. 

“Looks amazing.” Jack commented.

You nodded in agreement. “It does. Great work, Amber.”

Amber turned so she could look at the two of you. “Thanks for helping!”

“Nah, you did most of the work,” Jack modestly said.

Noticing rosy cheeks, you bopped Amber’s nose. “You look like you’re getting cold.” Before the girl could protest, you offered her a smile. “Shall we grab some hot cocoa and head back?”

Your proposition immediately brought a bright smile to her face.

It was moments like these that you weren’t sure whether or not that you should be happy or sad. 

Almost as if he sensed your uncertainty, Jack clapped his hands. 

“Let’s go.”

“(Y/N)! Jack!” 

Amber’s delighted cheer greeted the two of you as you arrived the next day. 

“Hi Amber,” you greeted. 

“Hey,” Jack chimed in.

Amber climbed out of her bed and gave you both a bright smile. “Are we going to do something fun again today?”

You nodded. “Can you go get ready? There’s somewhere cool that I want to show you today.”

She excitedly nodded and hurried around the room to get ready. 

Meanwhile, you turned to look at the winter spirit standing next to you.

“Did you know I was coming now?” you teasingly asked Jack. “I don’t remember telling you when I was coming by again today.”

Jack gave you a charming smile. “I had a feeling. Looks like I was right though.”

He took the time to look around the room, but he found himself watching you in the end. Adorned in all black again, Jack still thought that there was certain aura about you that made you less scary and more caring. He wouldn’t have pinned you as a grim reaper with your personality. 

“What are the plans for today?” Jack asked, lowering his voice so Amber wouldn’t hear.

You pretended to zip your lips. 

“Aw, no hint at all?”

You laughed. “I can give you one hint.” 

Walking over to Amber’s bed, you straightened up a few of her animal plushies and gave a pointed look to Jack.

“That’s all you’re getting.”

Jack made a face at you. “You’re terrible at giving hints. That could mean so many things.”

You playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

“I’m ready!” Amber called out, pulling on an oversized black jacket. 

“Let’s go then,” you said. 

As you went to open the door and lead your trio out on a trip, Jack took a moment to chat with Amber. 

“The jacket looks a little big on you,” he commented.

Amber nodded. “It’s from (Y/N)! She let me have it.”

Jack let out a hum of understanding as he walked beside Amber towards the door. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of appreciation towards you, even if he wasn’t the one who was receiving the kindness from you. 

You were someone special, Jack could feel it.

Once you all went through the door, Amber let out a squeal when she realized where you all had been transported to. There were animals and families everywhere, the air filled with chatter of all the living beings. 

“I know you like animals, so I brought you to a petting zoo,” you explained to Amber. Your (E/C) eyes noticed the bright smile on Jack’s face as well. Looks like the Guardian of Fun approved of this trip. “Ready to meet some animals?”

Amber clapped her hands happily. “Ready!”  

Taking the time to see all the animals, you heard Jack chuckle when you guys approached the bunny enclosure. When he noticed your curious gaze, Jack smiled.

“They remind me of a certain spirit I know,” he explained.

“The Easter Bunny?” you guessed.

“Yeah, although, he seems more kangaroo than bunny sometimes.”

You giggled at his comment. “I would love to see him one day.”

“You’ve never seen him?” Jack asked, surprised.

“You don’t get to meet many other spirits in my line of work.”

“Ah.”

You waved your hand to brush off his comment. Sometimes, as much as you felt alive and hopeful, deep down you knew that being a grim reaper was part of who you were now. Getting to spend time like this with others and Jack... you would cherish this. 

After you dropped Amber back off at the hospital and had her settled back down, you and Jack lingered around for a bit. Amber had been so happy today, it was hard to believe that this little girl only had a numbered amount of days left to live. 

You turned to Jack to say something, but the sound of approaching voices made you stop. You thought about leaving, but something kept you in place. One of the voices belonged to Amber’s nurse. The others... sounds familiar.

“She’s been fine lately.”

“Is there a chance her condition will improve?”

“The chance of that happening is rare - young patients like her in our long term care unit with her conditions...”

You completely tuned out the nurse when the sight of a tired looking couple walked towards you and Jack. Looking at the couple intensely, you then turned back to catch a glimpse of Amber. 

That feeling from before. 

The familiarity of Amber’s soul.

Everything seems to click for you when you saw her parents. You’ve seen them before.

“(Y/N)?” Jack called out to you as you stepped back in almost a retreating manner.

“I...” 

The memory of a blank letter page held in your hands brought you a sense of uncertainty.

“I should go,” you decided. “Thank you for spending the time with me and Amber today, Jack.”

With that, you turned and disappeared through a door before the Guardian of Fun could do anything to decipher your stranger behaviour.

When you got back home, a memory from a few years ago vividly resurfaced. 

Having just finished delivering one soul, you had found another letter waiting for you to deal with. Work had been relentless for you for the last few days. While there was always work to do, this week in particular had been non stop work.

After glancing at the name in the letter, you turned back around to deal with the soul left in your care. 

They were expected to leave today. 

Finding yourself in the hospital, you let out a sigh as you looked around. Your eyes paused as you looked at the couple, presumably the parents of the soul you were here to take. They sat outside the operation room and looked anxious. 

Understandable. 

You moved on, moving closer to the operation room. Sounds of the doctors and nurses working relentlessly, trying their best to help the young girl in the room reached your ears. You could sense her soul hanging onto life.

Human life in situations like this always felt so fragile.

The heartbeat monitor let out a shrill noise and the energy in the room grew frantic. Although you were supposed to get ready to seek out the soul you were here for, something felt off. 

There was an unshakable feeling that something wasn’t right. 

Pulling out the letter, you checked it once more.

Only to find the page blank.

Your (E/C) eyes narrowed as you flipped the page over to make sure you weren’t seeing things. 

Still blank.

Listening carefully once more, you could hear the regular beeping of the heartbeat monitor again. 

A miracle. 

It was extremely rare, but sometimes the letters were wrong if something miraculous happened and the soul was not ready to leave. 

This meant more paperwork for you to do, but the girl would live for now.

Turning away from the operation room, you left.

The girl that you had originally meant take a few years ago.

Fate had you back again for your unfinished work.

You took a few hours to let yourself process the new found information and rest but then pushed yourself to get back to it.

If Amber only had a limited amount of time, you wanted to have her spend days well. Seeing her again the next day without Jack, you had brought her to the hospital cafeteria and let her enjoy her favourite foods.

Perhaps it was because of your strange visiting hours, but you tried not to bump into Jack. Sure, he was understanding the first time you when you explained your line of work to him. But what if he found out that you were here a second time for this young girl? What would he think then? Would he still want to hang around you? He would probably be like everyone else and believe that you were the indirect cause to her death.

Regardless, from what you heard from Amber, Jack still made the time to visit despite you not being there.

It only took another day or two before you started noticing the signs of fear and worry from Amber.

“(Y/N)?” Amber called out to you as the two of you sat by the window in her room. You turned to look at her, watching her wide eyes stare at you as she clutched her stuffed toy tightly. “I’m scared.”

“What’s scaring you?” you asked quietly. 

“Mommy and daddy seemed worried... a lot more than usual.” The sadness in the young girl’s voice broke your heart. “They keep talking to the nurses and doctors... I think they know something about me that’s making them sad.”

You let her words sink in as you tried to find the right words to say to comfort her.

“Adults are always worried about things. Amber, it’s okay to feel the way you feel, but I hope you remember that you can also make your parents the happiest.”

Later that night, Amber had fallen asleep listening to a story you were telling her. As you stood nearby watching her sleep, you couldn’t believe how fast time was moving by. 

There wasn’t much time left now.

It was like an unspoken truth that everyone including Amber seemed to know.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

The deep voice startled you. 

Coming out from the shadows of the room was Pitch, his eyes gleaming on the little light that came from the night light in the room. 

“Pitch,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“I sensed fear,” Pitch responded, moving closer to the bed. He looked at Amber, then his eyes flickered back to you. “I’m sure you sense it too.”

You nodded. Pitch knew your profession, he would know exactly why you were here. 

Although the two of you had not played chess in a while due to his choice in actions, the strange relationship between the two of you still existed. Neither of you would cease to exist as you were both immortal.

“Her nightmares would be powerful,” Pitch commented.

You immediately frowned and defensively moved towards him. “No.”

“Do you intend to stop me?” 

“For her, I’d do anything to stop you right now.”

Pitch stepped back, then took a few steps around the room. “I thought you said you wouldn’t take sides.” He moved closer to you, fingers touching your chin and tilting your head back to stare into your (E/C) eyes. “What is happening now, little miss grim reaper?”

The door to the room opened slightly and someone slipped in. 

Turning to see who it was, you immediately froze.

“Pitch! And... (Y/N)?”

Jack looked at the two of you with a mix of emotions. It was clear enough that he was in disbelief though.

“Ah, the Guardian of Fun,” snarled Pitch. “Did you come here to play?”

Hearing this, Jack immediately raised his staff and pointed it at Pitch. It wavered though, when he realized how close to Pitch you were.

Regardless, it didn’t stop the rough tone of his voice when he directed his words to you.

“(Y/N), you know Pitch?”

“Know me? Of course she does,” Pitch responded. “We’ve known each other for hundreds of years.”

Jack’s eyes questioned you, waiting for your response. 

You didn’t want to lie, but the truth was probably one he didn’t want to hear.

“We’ve known each other for a long time,” you acknowledged. 

Betrayal flickered on Jack’s face and Pitch seemed to notice that. 

“Ah, I see you must of have met (Y/N) just recently,” Pitch commented. He moved towards Jack despite the staff being point his way. “Death and fear, what a combination, am I right?”

“Leave. Now.” Jack demanded.

The sound of frost crackling on the windows seemed to remind Pitch that he wasn’t as strong as the Guardian before him. His yellow eyes met yours and he could tell that he had no advantage here. 

Wordlessly, he disappeared back into the shadows, leaving you and Jack behind.

“Jack - “

“You should leave too,” Jack coldly said. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”

His words hurt. But you knew that now wasn’t the time to explain yourself. The enemy he had fought a few years ago with a girl he met only days ago who was a grim reaper. Even you knew it was a strange sight. You didn’t owe Jack any explanation, but you wanted to explain things to him later on. 

Ducking your head, you moved around him towards the door. 

“She only has two days left,” you said as you reached the door. “I will be back, whether you like it or not. I have a job to do.”

With that, you opened the door and went through.

Amber’s condition was getting worse. 

When you had the chance, you would pop by and check up on her. At this stage, you could not take her out to go out and play anymore. But you made the effort to bring her surprises and chat with her.

Time was running out.

You still had a job to do.

During those next two days, you didn’t see Jack at all. After the encounter with him and Pitch, you weren’t sure what more you could say to the Guardian of Fun. You had told him almost every from the beginning. 

What did he expect? 

Hopefully, he would have taken some time to realize that death did not take sides. It was simply a part of life. To live and to die. The chance of you taking sides with Pitch was never going to be a reality.

Regardless, you tried not to bump into him if you could. 

It seemed like the two of you needed space.

But that evening of the second day, you had a strong feeling that things were drawing to a close and you stuck around. If Jack showed up, then so be it. 

He wasn’t going to stop you from doing your job.

He couldn’t, even if he tried.

“(Y/N)?”

You turned look at Amber, reaching out to hold her outstretched hand. 

“Are you and Jack fighting?” she asked. “How come you two don’t visit me together?”

You gave her a bitter smile. Children. They always sensed when things were different much sooner than adults. They caught onto emotions so easily. They were always the most innocent when it came to death. 

Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, you pat her head.

“We just had a misunderstanding, Amber.”

“Do you need to talk to him?”

“I probably should.”

Amber pointed to the space behind you. “Maybe you should talk to him now then.”

Turning, you spotted the Guardian of Fun. His blue hoodie pulled up as he stood there, leaning against the wall and watching the two of you. You weren’t sure how long he had been there, but you knew Amber had a point. 

It was now or never.

If you let this chance pass you by, you might let this misunderstanding stay between the two of you forever.

The sound of voices outside in the hallways made you tilt your head slightly, trying to better listen to who it was. Recognizing them as the doctors and Amber’s parents, you knew this was your best chance to step aside.

“Yeah, I’ll go do that.” You leaned in closer to Amber. “Make sure you take the time now to say what you want to mom and dad, okay?”

“I’m running out of time, aren’t I?” Amber asked, voice quivering.

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Every part of you knew that these would be her last moments. She deserved to know.

“I’m sorry,” you softly whispered back. “I’ll be here to guide you when it is time though, okay?”

Amber nodded. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She opened her arms out to you for a hug. While you were holding onto her embrace, you felt another set of arms wrap around the two of you. The cool presence you recognized had to belong to the only other spirit in the room. 

Once the group hug was done, Amber shooed you and Jack out to talk just as her parents made their way inside her room.

“Let’s go this way,” you said, leading the way to a quieter hallway. Jack silently followed behind you.

Standing in the empty hallway, you and Jack stood there for a moment before you knew you had say something.

“Do you really think Pitch and I had something between us?” you asked, gauging for a reaction.

“It sounds like the two of you have known each other for a long time,” Jack pointed out. 

“We have,” you agreed. “We play chess together sometimes. But that’s about it.”

“You never told me.”

“You never asked.”

Jack paused, but could only nod his head. “Fair enough.”

You fidgeted with the bracelet on your wrist as you gathered your thoughts. You didn’t need to tell Jack everything, but you felt like you should. You had grown to care and perhaps even like the Guardian of Fun, you didn’t want to lose him over something that felt as trivial as this.

“Not many people would ever befriend a grim reaper,” you explained, voice quiet. “It’s a lonely existence. Even among other grim reapers, its hard to fit in when I carry the weight of every soul I take like someone who was turned recently when I’m one of the most experienced reapers out there. Most of the other grim reapers have grown numb to the task, but that’s something I just can’t do.”

“(Y/N)…” Jack reached out to you.

When his fingers brushed up against your cheek, you looked up at him and Jack could see your glassy (E/C) eyes. You carried a lot more than what you were willing to show. 

“Death takes no sides,” you recited. “What Pitch was implying... Its not something that could ever happen.”

“I’m sorry,” Jack said, pulling his hood down and taking a step closer to you. “I...”

Before he could finish forming his thought, there was a commotion from the direction of Amber’s room. 

You knew immediately what was happening having experienced it so many times before. It never got any easier. Wiping at the unfallen tears in your eyes, you straightened up and brushed your clothes down with your hands. Hopefully you looked presentable enough.

“It’s Amber, isn’t it?” Jack asked, worry evident on his face. 

“It’s time,” you murmured just loud enough for him to catch. 

Walking towards the room, you stood a short distance away from the door. Jack had followed you, hovering nearby. He reminded you of the new grim reapers that you mentored a long time ago. Nervous and scared. 

A light figure of a soul stepped out of the room. When her eyes caught sight of the two of you, a smile appeared on her face as she approached.

“(Y/N)! Jack! Did you get the chance to talk?” Amber asked.

You nodded, crouching down to her height. “We did. Did you get the chance to tell mom and dad everything?”

“Not everything...” Amber said, looking back at the room. The muffled sound of crying came from the closed door. “Do you think they know?”

“Of course,” Jack reassured her. He gently placed his hand on her shoulder. “Moms and dads always have a way to know what you can’t say.”

This brought a smile to Amber’s face. 

For someone who never had to experience this, Jack was doing fine. Seeing them interact made the bubble of sadness inside you grow. Now was not the time to show how you felt. You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the letter. It fluttered out of your hand and landed on the door at the end of the hall. 

A light glow emitted from the other side of the closed door.

You held your hand out to Amber. “It’s time for us to go.”

“Bye, Jack,” Amber said as she took your hand. 

Jack gave her a small wave. “Bye, Amber.”

Giving Amber one last moment to linger, you led her towards the door. Like every child that you were responsible for, you hoped that if Amber had another chance at life, may she live a long, healthy and happy life.

Opening the door, you took a deep breath, looked down at the little girl you were with and stepped through it together.

The next few days were quiet for you luckily. After Amber, it was like the someone knew you needed time to recover and gave you a break.

You took the chance to hole up at home, hiding under blankets as you tried your best to manage your sadness. 

Your tears had dried up, your heart still felt heavy, but you were still here. 

Being a grim reaper was tough.

The sound of knocking on your front door was what dragged you off your couch. Cracking the door open, you were surprised to see a magical snow bunny dance in front of you before turning into a small shower of sparkling snowflakes.

“Surprised?” 

You turned to see Jack watching you from the side, casually leaning against his staff.

“Jack,” you said, looking at him. “How’d you find me?”

“I came by one time, remember?” Jack approached you. At the sight of your still swollen eyes from these last few days, his expression softened. “Mind if I come in?”

You nodded, letting him inside. 

Jack left his staff by your entrance, propped up against the wall.

He came into your place with a bit of familiarity, yet still looked around as if this were his first time here. His eyes settled on the pile of blankets on your couch. 

As you trailed after him, you were startled when he turned around and swept you into a hug. Despite being the bringer of winter and cold, Jack’s hug felt warm and comforting. His breath tickled your ears as he held you close.

“I’m not very good at saying the right things to comfort people,” he admitted softly. “Is this okay?”

You nodded, snuggling into his embrace. Your response drew a relieved sigh out of Jack as he pulled you in closer. He gently pet your hair as he let you hang onto the much needed comfort you needed the last few days. There were no more tears left inside of you to cry and having someone here for you was more than enough.

After some time, you shyly stepped back from Jack. He was reluctant to let you go though, hands still placed on your shoulders.

“Thank you. For being here with me.” You mull of your thoughts for a moment before ultimately deciding to voice them to the man in front of you. Meeting his eyes, you try your best to not let any emotions show in your words. “Jack, perhaps you shouldn’t spend any more time with me.”

Confusion settled on his face. “(Y/N)...”

“Being a grim reaper is like being surrounded by sadness and death. No spirits like interacting with us. Humans think we’re a bad omen. It just comes with the profession - we’re not meant to get attached to anyone.”

“That’s not true,” Jack gently protested. His hand caressed your cheek, causing heat to rise to your face as he looked down at you. “I see you, (Y/N). After everything we’ve been through this last while, I have a pretty good understanding of who you are. You can’t let your job define you.” 

He gazed into your eyes, checking for any signs of rebuttal or conflict. It was the glimmer of hope he saw from you that gave him the confidence. 

Jack leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Give yourself a chance,” he murmured as he leaned his forehead against yours. “And if you feel the same way as I do, give me a chance too.”

While his confession surprised you a little, you knew deep down, you had felt the same connection he was feeling.

Raising a hand, you touch Jack’s cheek. It felt as warm as how your own were feeling. 

“Okay,” you agreed. “As long as you help me along the way.”

“For you, anything.”

[berryz-writes]

Faking it

(part 1)

Mattheo x reader

Summary: You and Mattheo pretend to date because your parents won't stop pestering you and girls won't stop falling over themselves to get to Mattheo

note: ignore the title its not very.........smart

"What are your plans for tomorrow?" Mattheo asked putting his quill down and kicking his legs up onto the desk. History of Magic was the perfect time to sit and chat with your friends and catch up on missed gossip.

I shrugged "It's the ball tomorrow so probably getting lectured by my dear mother" A tradition since I was 12. To nag ask me to bring a date with me to the ball. This year was especially important because I hadn't brought anyone with me last year and my mother was not impressed.

Mattheo rolled his eyes "Please. You've got it easy"

I raised an eyebrow. What was he complaining about? "And what's troubling you so much?"

He sighed dramatically "All I here is everywhere I go is do you have a date for the ball? A guy can't even eat breakfast in peace"

I scoffed. He was always so unnecessarily dramatic.

"Well. Do you?" It's not like I was wanting it to be me, I was just genuinely interested. Curious. Not at all wondering who the girl was and what Matheo's standards and type was.

"Of course I don't. All the girls that come up to me are sluts who want me to take them to my dorm after"

I shrug "At least they have the confidence to ask. You'll be left with no one soon enough"

Mattheo rolled his eyes as if what I was saying was utterly ridiculous "There's always someone. And anyways I could always go with you"

I paused. The voices in the classroom had become a background noise in my mind. I looked at Mattheo, trying to see if he was making a joke out of all this. I could usually tell because of how his lips would always pull into a small smirk but this time he was utterly serious.

"Us two?" I asked. I don't know why I said that. Maybe it was to make sure I had heard him right.

"Yeah. It would get those girls off my back and your parents will probably be happy you've found a good looking guy like me"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act like this wasn't something I was excited about or wanted to do "Someone thinks highly of themselves"

Matheo's eyes had glazed over as if he was in deep thought about something. His hand was tapping his knee in a constant rhythm and his eyebrows were scrunched in concentration. It was quiet cute to watch, honestly.

"Y'know. My idea wasn't so bad."

I raise an eyebrow "Your ideas are always bad. Which one are you talking about this time?"

He moved closer to me so I could hear his quiet voice "Me and you. We could go to the ball together. Pretend to date for a while and then act like it didn't work out between us."

My heart beat's pace increased. Why was it increasing? I'd love to tell you but I didn't know either. Maybe it was the fact that I wouldn't mind getting closer to Mattheo. Or maybe the fact that I knew if I accepted his idea I would be heartbroken by the end of it.

"But once we break up I'm just going to have to find another guy" I tried explaining. I did want to go along with his idea but I didn't want to seem too desperate. Also I don't think my parents saw Mattheo as a great influence.

He rolled his eyes acting as if I was the dumb one "Just pretend your going through an emotional...breakdown or something. And by then you'll be able to find someone you like.  It's not as if anyone would reject you" He said all this with a serious tone, as if he wasn't telling me to keep a lie going to my family but also probably break my heart in the process. I skipped over the last bit of what he said because if I thought of it for too long I would become obsessed with it and that probably wasn't a good idea.

"I'll think about it" I finally decided. I already knew what my answer was but I didn't need his ego to inflate even more...also because I had pride in myself and wasn't about to cave to on of his ideas so quickly.

*a few hours later*

"Why do you ask to play if you know your going to lose?" I asked Theo feeling slightly bad for him at this point. It was our fifth game of cards and he had lost all of them. He rolled his eyes "I'm helping pass time so you should be thanking me" It was just after our last lesson of the day and we were all in the common room or out in the gardens waiting for supper. Luckily exams weren't anywhere close so I could use this time however I wanted.

I smiled slightly at Theo's disgruntled expression "Right"

Handing out the cards again I picked up my pile and spread them out looking for a diamond. I picked out two debating on which one, choosing the nine of diamonds when I heard a slight noise behind me.

"I wouldn't go for that. I've seen Theo's cards and he's going to get you back if you put that nine down" It was Mattheo. He had taken a seat next to me on a stool having seemingly finished the shouting match he was having with Draco a few minutes ago.

I glared at him in annoyance "You've just told Theo what card I have!" Was he being deliberately annoying or did he not know how card games worked?

A slight smirk on his expression told me he was being irritating on purpose "Don't be mad at me darling. It was a mistake" He had gotten closer to me now his proximity too much for me. Luckily Theo caused a commotion by throwing his cards onto the table, me and Mattheo both turning to look at him.

"I'm not playing anymore. I've had enough of losing y/n" He said dramatically, getting up and sticking up his middle finger at Mattheo before leaving. What was wrong with everyone today?

Mattheo let out a sigh "Finally. Have you decided then?" His voice had changed to being serious within seconds, his teasing smile gone.

I knew what he was talking about but all the same I furrowed my brows and acted confused "decided what?" It was his turn to frown as he moved even closer to me "The fake dating thing? Your memory needs fixing sweetheart" He said quietly waiting for my response.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I couldn't look him in the eyes when he said names like that. Would saying yes lead to me having a broken heart and in a lot of trouble if my parents found out? Yes. But was I doing it anyways? Yes.

"My memory doesn't need fixing" I rolled my eyes but continued on "And fine I'll do it"

Mattheo grinned "Fucking finally" He got up and pressed a kiss to my cheek "I'll see you later. If anyone asks tell them your taken" He walked away out of the common room and to who knows where. I lightly touched where he had kissed my cheek. Was this going to be normal now? Him just kissing me any time of day? Not that I minded.

I looked around the common room to see a few girls in my year already walking over to me, raising their eyebrows. They were probably going to ask what the kiss was about and I'd have to tell them I was dating..... realisation hit me.

Mattheo hadn't kissed me because he wanted to but so the others could see and would come and ask me. He was smart. I would give him that but it did hurt my feelings slightly.

After a lot of explaining how me and Mattheo got together and lying for three hours straight I slipped into my bed earlier than usual, staring at my dress for the next night. It was a dark green almost the exact shade of our Slytherin robes except in silk. I turned to my other side wishing I hadn't eaten so much dessert because it still didn't seem digested to me. I could hear hooting in the distance, guessing it was probably other students owls, coming back or going out to send letters.

I had sent a letter to my parents just after dinner, telling them not to worry and how I had a date for the ball this year. I had re written the letter so many times, worried the expression when they read my words would make it obvious I was lying. After the fire had eaten up 4 parchments I finally sent the letter off hoping for the best. Pansy had ended up reading over my shoulder before I could stop her and had found out I was "dating" Mattheo. At first she was upset I hadn't told her. Her arms had been crossed and a permanent frown had been etched onto her face.

I couldn't lie to her so I eventually told her the truth, her eyes widening as I explained everything.

"I'm sure it'll be fine" She had said eventually. I hoped she was right.

The next day rushed by extremely quickly. It felt like I had just had breakfast but here I was waiting for my mother to show up. She had said she wanted to "meet me before she left for something extremely important in a different country"

She just meant she was going on holiday without me but I didn't mind. The last time I had gone all she did was talk about my grades and the clothes I was wearing or something else that annoyed me. I turned to Pansy who was starting to look at her nails in boredom.

"You should go. Start getting ready" I said to her. She was waiting with me, just inside the school gates. Pansy shrugged "I don't mind. You need support when your dear mother comes because Salazar knows you can't lie"

I crossed my arms even though I knew she was kind of right "I can. Listen I'll be fine, trust me. Go get ready"

Pansy hummed in thought "It does take me a while to do my eyeliner.....fine. See you, don't crumble under pressure" She blew me a kiss and walked back in leaving me to crack my knuckles repeatedly even though they were already cracked.

I couldn't even wait in peace because as soon as Pansy left I heard gravel crunch behind me and when I turned to look who it was, Mattheo's grin made me want to stop time. God he was gorgeous and he didn't even try.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as he stood next to me, his body heat reaching me at his close proximity. He raised an eyebrow a knowing smile on his lips "You can't lie to me forget lying to your own mother"

I huffed in annoyance. Why did everyone underestimate me? I mean they were right but still. And how could I lie to Mattheo when his chocolate eyes would make me melt in mere seconds? And how did he know what I was waiting for? Pansy must have told him on her way in.

Without warning my mother apparated in front of me before I could confirm what I was thinking. She was wearing smart wizarding robes. She had probably just come from work. Like usual she didn't hug me, just giving me a once over and then turning to Mattheo instead.

"So your dating my daughter?" She got straight to the point, tossing her blonde waves behind her, eyes narrowed. Mattheo nodded his expression serious

"Yes maam"

Her eyebrows raised slightly but she carried on quizzing him about his grades, plans and even what he thought about marriage. I wanted to die right about now. Luckily she only turned to me at the very end of her little interview "I expect you to have good grades by the end of the year. Your father sends his love" And with that she apparated away just as quickly as she had arrived.

I let out a sigh "Thanks. She's a handful sometimes" I told him, feeling bad that he had to take the brunt of her questioning. He shrugged wrapping an arm around my waist "It's fine, nothing I can't handle"

"You don't have to pretend like we're dating when no one's looking you know" I said to him quietly. It was getting dark now and no one would be out in the gardens anyways. Mattheo ignored me, carrying on walking toward the castle, his hand shifting to pull me closer

"Someone could be looking though the window, sweetheart. You can't be too careful" He whispered in my ear, his voice making my insides heat and my legs feel like jelly. I blinked at him as he straightened up acting as if he hadn't just made butterflies erupt in my stomach from a few simples words.

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

I couldn't survive one night next to him without my brain cells melting how would I survive a whole fucking week?

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Desperation vs. Domestication (Pt. 2)

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 4431

Summary: Though you have been lulled into a deep sense of security by Drift's kindness and comfort, you still haven't completely lost the need to be free. A terrible nightmare refuels your desire for escape...but Drift isn't someone who wants to let you go.

HEEHEEHEEHEE I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE A PART 2 OF THIS...so I did. It's because Drift is my all-time favorite Transformer and I absolutely LOVE putting my favorite characters through angst. If you enjoyed reading part 1, then I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated! Enjoy! :D

Here is the link to pt. 1 if you haven’t read it!

Also available to read on AO3!

  Two months later…

  You dream of Earth tonight.

  There are fields; you are standing in one. Long Bermuda grass tickles your ankles with the gentle presence of the planet recognizing its own. The endless green is splattered with occasional droplets of color: pink poppies, yellow sunflowers, marigolds, dandelions. It is warm. There is a slight wind blowing, playing with your hair. You turn your face towards the sunlight and bask in the relief of knowing you are home.

  All of a sudden, you hear a sound. Thumping. Steady, rhythmic. Loud. You feel the wind die down and suddenly the sun is gone, and there is only darkness. A massive shadow blots out all of the light. You see a figure looming over you, red-and-white with bright blue eyes that stare into your soul and make you feel terror.

  You try to run, but find you cannot move your legs. There is nothing you can do when you watch a giant hand reach down in slow motion and pluck you up, holding you between titanic fingers. The monster’s mouth opens, and then you are tumbling down, right into an abyss of metal and isolation. The Earth melts away forever. You are trapped. You are alone.

  Shooting forward out of your nightmare, you hear yourself scream. The squishy floor underneath you makes you lose your footing when you scramble upward in a blind panic and fall into Drift’s stomach wall. Everything moves, the organ grumbling unhappily at you being awake. Your hands scramble at the mesh cables. Little pink bubbles of cybernetic blood pop anxiously beneath their semi-transparent surfaces. The walls close in to squeeze, holding you in a secure hug, attempting to keep you still. But you cannot think. You are scared, and you feel trapped, so you desperately begin to thrash and fight against the stomach.

  Drift’s voice booms above you, panicked. “Little one? Little one?!”

  “Let me go!” you shriek. “Please, letmegoletmegoletmego!”

  The walls loosen up, freeing you. You collapse into the fetal position, gasping while sweat beads your brow and your heart goes crazy.

  Drift presses his hands over his middle. “Little one, little one, shhhh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes frantically. “Safe, safe…safe, all is safe...no need for fear…”

  Gradually, you calm down. Only when you are no longer trembling does Drift tentatively begin to squeeze you again. In and out, slow kneading, like he’s silently coaxing you to continue breathing at a healthier pace. “Little one…okay?” he asks.

  Your voice quivers. “I-I’m fine. I’m okay. It-It was a bad dream. A nightmare.” You sit upright and lean into the stomach wall. Drift holds you close, the undulating muscle relaxing you with its constant massage. His biolights pulse and flicker, a clear sign of his stress. You woke him up with your screams. It makes you feel bad, so you snuggle his cables further. The robot’s stomach is not a big place, but Drift likes to be conscious of you. The support you provide him in completing this task is obviously appreciated, because he hums softly and pats his hand over where you are.

  There is peace again. Peace and warmth. But you don’t feel the usual safety. There is a lingering pit of dread growing deep within your gut, foul roots clawing their way through your body, leaving you jittery, uneased. Your nightmare is the first one in months, and it’s a sure sign things are not right.

  It has been such a long time since you thought of your possible escape plan. You don’t know how long, but you do know that you can’t be comfortable here anymore. Your mind is sending the signals loud and clear.

  No more stalling, you think to yourself. No more being complacent.

  You are not domesticated yet.

  When Drift lets you out of here…you will go through with the plan to take an escape pod home. For real this time.

  It takes you weeks to perfect your plan. And when you do finally have it all figured out, you come to the conclusion that things may end up being more complicated than you thought. Escaping a spaceship filled with giant alien robots is hard enough, yes. But then there’s the issue of what will happen when you return to Earth. You don’t know how long you’ve been abducted. It could be months. It could be years. What if all of your family and friends are long gone by the time you get home? What if things are so different that you’ve been completely left behind?

  No. You can’t think like that. A sharp patting to your cheeks snaps you out of it. Keep it together. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Regardless of what awaits you on Earth, you will be there to face it.

  You’ve packed everything you own into a small fabric knapsack your mech gifted you during your first days here (Who knew robots are such good knitters?). It’s not much, not much at all: snacks Drift gives you, strange pellets that clean your teeth, three cans of filtered water…but that’s all you really require for the trip you are going to embark on. You don’t believe it will be particularly long. The escape pods need to have some sort of device that allows them to leap through lightyears to their destinations. You believe this because you’ve watched the mothership do it from the observation windows Drift likes to bring you to sometimes. Hyperspace will occasionally be activated, with stars and planets blurring together into dazzling white paint streaks before coming to an abrupt halt in a totally new galaxy.

  Now, do you know how lightjumping works? Absolutely not. Last time you were on Earth, no such human technology had been invented yet. So you don’t exactly know how you’ll get the escape pod to lightjump like the ship does. But you’ll find a way. You have no choice.

  Now for the hard part: getting away from Drift long enough to activate the escape pod and blast away. He’s not going to make it easy for you. Drift doesn’t like letting you out of his sight if you aren’t in his room, and hardly lets you roam free. You’ve spent hours, both within his stomach and out, pondering how to go about this. It’s left you with the agonizing decision that you’ll just have to wing it somehow.

  The door to his room slides open. You’ve been sitting on his berth with your hands beneath your head and one leg crossed over the other, thinking, thinking, thinking, that at first you nearly didn’t hear him come in. You sit up to greet him with more eagerness than you’d like to show. The nightmare didn’t stop your affection for Drift from rearing its persistent head.

  There’s no waiting for him to give you his time today. When he enters the room, his focus is immediately on you with no prior distractions. Drift walks with a spring in his step, his finials perking up like an enthusiastic dog. You notice a small white box he holds in one hand, and think nothing of it. Drift’s room is decorated with countless knickknacks from other planets. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s brought some strange little souvenir home.

  “Hey, big guy,” you murmur happily when he kneels down before you. He settles the box to the side and cups both hands behind you, humming his typical car engine-purr greeting. You hug him when he draws you forth so he can nuzzle his nose into your middle. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

  Drift beep-boops excitedly. He gives you an affectionate tickle to your side, causing you to giggle. Your reaction delights him. He keeps it up, and pretty soon you are laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “D-Drift, s-stop! I-I can’t breathe!”

  He gives you one last light prod, then ends the bout of torture with more cuddles. You recover from the laughter, feeling airy and light like nothing else matters except for the giant robot holding you.

  “Little one,” he coos. “My little one.”

  “Mhm,” you mumble goodnaturedly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours.”

  He suddenly looks like he’s remembered something very important, and he straightens, chirping rapidly. You watch as he grabs the white box and, to your surprise, presents it to you. You glance at it, then turn to him. “For me?” you ask, pointing at yourself.

  He chirps again and nods.

  You take it from him and open it with a slight air of confusion, because he’s never given you something like this before. You think it might be a piece of jewelry, or some sort of charm. But what you see inside is neither of those things. You suck in a sharp breath of pure disbelief and go numb.

  It’s a collar. A damn collar. Sleek and narrow, its solid red with a single white stripe circumnavigating it. On one side is a strange symbol of a boxy red robot’s face-the same symbol he has on his chest. These are his colors, you realize. He’s making us match. He wants the other mechs to know that he owns you.

  Drift rumbles expectantly. When you remain frozen, unable to pry your eyes away from the collar, he gently pries it out of your now slightly shaking hands. With extreme carefulness, he clasps it around your neck. It fits comfortably and locks with a quiet click.

  “My little one,” he repeats. “Mine.”

  He’s not trying to scare you. You know he isn’t. Yet your throat is dry, and the snug weight of the collar makes you feel sick.

  You need to get the hell off of this ship.

  You spend the night feverishly trying to break the collar off, working yourself up like a caged animal driven mad by captivity. But no matter how hard you yank at it, it remains stubbornly fast around your neck. You refuse to eat the food given to you and cry yourself to sleep within a very concerned Drift’s belly, who can’t seem to console you no matter how hard he tries.

  Drift doesn’t know what to do with you.

  You’ve been moping ever since he gave you the collar. Over the next few days, any sort of drive to escape has left you. You're depressed and disappointed in him for what he’s done. You don’t want to talk to him. You don’t want to accept any of his gifts. Blanket after pillow after plushie-all made by him, with the crude markings of homemade love-are ignored. You shy away from his touch and reject his attention. When he swallows you at night, you give him no inclination you care. You sit like a stone within him and just…stare off vacantly, unable to ignore the collar around your neck.

  He’s brought you to the ship’s doctor multiple times. On the first trip, the old red medic bot looked you over and finished his checkup with a shrug and dismissive chuff. The second time, he growled at Drift and waved him away. And on the third time, he didn’t even let him through the door. There’s nothing physically wrong with you. But mentally, how could they know? How could he know he’s hurt you? You trusted him to treat you with some level of respect despite your situation, and he had, until now. The collar was your breaking point. There truly is no way for him to ever see you as anything more than a pet, and it hurts you, because by god, you love him.

  “…Little one?”

  Drift calls out to you with a soft, sad tone. You huddle up tighter beneath one of your blankets and give no answer.

  You hear him shift at his desk. There’s silence between the two of you that is not wanted. He heaves a low sigh and tries again. “Little one…please?”

  Damn your heart, you can’t keep giving him the silent treatment when he sounds like he’s about to cry.

  You push the blanket off of your head. Drift slouches in his chair, back bent like an old man’s. His finials are drooping, and the glow from his biolights is dimmer than usual. He’s obviously been letting his personal hygiene go for the sake of finding a way to help you, and it hurts to know he’s in this state because of your shitty attitude towards what he simply sees as a gift. The collar is a curse, but you can’t exactly tell him that, can you? This entire situation is all your fault.

  It's the treacherous part of your mind which attempts to convince you of this. It partially works. Giving in, you sit up slowly, drawing the blanket tightly around your shoulders and tilting your head while giving him a questioning look.

  He’s surprised by your action, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting you to respond to this extent. But he takes advantage of it. Drift offers you a hopeful smile and picks something up from his desk. He stands and walks to you, going slow. You don’t flinch when he crouches down to your level. The warm light of his eyes leaves a kind feeling on your skin.

  Tentatively, Drift extends his hand. In his palm is a piece of chocolate, one of the many treats he has at his disposal to provide you with when he feels you are being especially good. It’s an olive branch. A reach in the right direction.

  You hesitate…and then you think, Oh, what the hell. Staying mad at Drift when he has no clue he’s done something wrong in the first place won’t get you anywhere. So you accept the candy and take a small bite.

  He sags with relief, exhaust whooshing from his nose as he watches you eat. When you're finished, he moves his hand closer, twining the palm around you and resting the tips of his digits against your head and sides. You hold his index finger, resting your forehead against it and closing your eyes as a sign of trust. But you feel guilty.

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing he won’t understand. But you say it anyway. “I love you. I love you so, so much. But you're destroying me. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  A tear slips down your cheek. You don’t notice it until Drift gently brushes it away.

  “I have to go.” Your voice breaks. “I need to leave. I hope you’ll learn why. And I hope you won’t hate me for it. I-I don’t think I could handle it if you did. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I hated you.”

  Drift coos. His reply is indecipherable. You think he’s trying to comfort you…but you’ll never know for sure.

  He doesn’t swallow you tonight. You don’t know why; maybe he thinks you need a break. Maybe he just wants to hold you in a different fashion this time. You stay awake hours after he falls asleep, your little form nestled in the crook of his neck while he snoozes on his stomach with his arms crossed beneath his massive pillow. You peer off into the darkness, listening to his quiet breaths.

  For the longest time, you’ve thought of this room as yours and his. A space the two of you share together. Ours. It's fed into your delusional ideations of a future in which the two of you learn each other’s languages, where you stand on equal ground, you belonging to him and him belonging to you. A future where mechs and humans join hands and say “I see you. I know you. I understand you and you understand me. Neither of us is higher than the other.”

  But it will never happen. The collar around your neck is physical proof. There is no future between the two of you anymore. If you want to be you again…you need to let Drift go.

  You shuffle away from the bot’s neck and stand. The only parts of him that are lit up right now are the red symbol on his chest and the soft blue of his mouth. He’s so peaceful. This giant alien, who you know has fought in many battles from the scars you can see, is soothed by your presence. You, an insignificant little human being. The dynamic is honestly quite hilarious. You're like his very own version of a chihuahua.

 You want to hug his nose, knowing you will never have another chance again. But Drift is a light sleeper, and you're testing the waters enough already. You can’t risk it. It pains you, but you drop your arms and turn away.

  Using the metal ladder he made for you so you’d have easy access to his berth, you climb down and grab your knapsack. Quietly padding across the long expanse of the room, you make it to the door. It senses your presence and slides open. You force yourself not to look back when you walk out.

   You wonder if he will cry for you when he wakes up and finds you gone.

  The spaceship is ominous at night. The only thing you can hear as you traverse the hallways is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. You're trying to be quiet; passing by multiple rooms with slumbering bots inside has you holding your breath and then letting it out in a forcefully slow, reedy wheeze. You are, after all, a mouse in a prison filled with cats; slow and steady and silent wins the race.

  You survey the elevator when you get to it, at a loss of how you’ll possibly find a way to operate it due to how small you are. A miracle finds its way to you, however, in the form of a mech. This one you don’t recognize. He has a similar color scheme to Drift, but is noticeably bulkier, with a strange cannon sitting on his right shoulder and a blue eyepiece over the adjacent optic. All of his focus is on the datapad in his hands as he summons the elevator. You wait for the doors to open and for him to step inside before darting after him. Luckily he doesn’t look up once on the short journey. Your cover remains unblown when the doors part again and he heads off. You go in the opposite direction, because like hell are you going to follow the strange robot to someplace where there are probably more strange robots.

  You slip in and out of sight, staying far away from any mechs who are awake. They do not see you, which means you are doing this right-though there are some alarming instances where you think you’ll be caught. One such occurrence happens when a tall, thin blue mech with a chest like the front of a helicopter nearly sees you duck into an open storage room for quick cover. Its single orb ominously scans the darkened room. You watch from beneath a large shelving unit, terrified out of your mind. You don’t move, nor do you make a sound, keeping a shaking hand over your mouth.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, the mech stomps away. You let your head fall forward respitefully.

  You know you're nearing your one-way ticket to Earth when you see bright yellow signs plastered on the walls with loud black alien words telling you to hurry left with the help of large arrows. Escape pod symbols, accompanied by a funny little robot mascot, are the giveaway. You feel a sort of giddy euphoria swell up within you. You're almost there. You're going to escape. You're going to go home. It all seems far too good to be true; sure, you’ve imagined this scenario happening over and over again, but you never really did believe it would happen.

  You pinch your arm multiple times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming. This is not in your head. This is happening. You really are going back to Earth.

  Your collar suddenly vibrates. And then it starts to screech.

  You nearly jump out of your own skin. The alarm is loud, piercing, and undeniably going to alert someone to your presence. You slam your fists against it multiple times, but it doesn’t let up. Your heart sinks when the realization of what's going on hits.

  Shit. He put a tracker in it.

  You need to run. You shove yourself forward into a full-on sprint, dashing down the last remainder of this hallway, then turning the corner and seeing the numerous escape pods all lined up in the wall. You choose the first one, grabbing the edge of the circular door and pulling with all of your might. The tendons in your neck strain as you grunt and slowly bring the door back with you. Clamoring in, you give it one last heave before it shuts on its own and seals you inside. You hear the lock click into place. The entire cabin flickers to life, with the lights on and the control panel booting up. As you expected, everything is far too big for you to reach. But it seems you won’t need to. A loud robotic voice emanates from the central console, speaking to you in the native mech language.

  Your collar is still going off. You don’t have a lot of time.

  “I-I can’t understand you!” you yell over the din. “I’m a human, from Earth! I speak English!”

  The voice pauses. Seconds later, to your amazement, it talks, and you can understand. “Language notifications made. Destination updated. Scanning…” A panel on the ceiling pops open, and a blue light filters out, washing over you. “Scanning complete. Species: Homo Sapien. Homeworld: Earth. Milky Way Galaxy. Status: Critically endangered. Suggesting immediate travel to Earth.”

  You clap your hands. “Yes! Yes, that’s it! Earth, set the destination to Earth!”

  “Destination set. Awaiting command to launch LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01.”

  You are about to give the order when something slams against the door. You whirl around, your heart stuttering when you see who’s there. It’s Drift. He’s made it. And he looks horrified. With trembling fingers, he yanks on the handle. When the pod remains fastly shut, he pounds on the circular window with so much force the entire thing shudders and you think he’s going to rip it right off of its hinges. “Little one!” he screams, voice muffled beyond the barrier of glass. “Little one! Open…!” The rest of the sentence comes out as sharp metal shrieks.

  You stand there helplessly. The pod once again inquires for your command, yet you can’t find it within yourself to speak.

  Drift is doing everything he can to get to you. He’s like a rabid beast, clawing at the window, teeth bared in visible frustration. His biolights are going mad when he roars and sends his whole body into the door. This time, it does give a little. You can see some dents in the gray metal.

  This…is a side of Drift you have never seen. It is desperate, vicious. And it terrifies you. You stumble back to the opposite end of the pod and curl up, hugging your knapsack to your chest like a child squeezing their favorite stuffed animal. Drift continues his futile attack on the door, but pauses when he makes eye contact with you. His face falls. His fists relax and slide downward to press palm against the glass.

  He’s quiet as he seems to reflect on how he just presented himself front of you, then whispers heartbrokenly. “...Sorry.” Tears stream down his cheeks. His hot vexation melts away and exposes his remorseful center. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Little one. Y/N.”

  Oh my god.

  All noise ceases when you register what he just said. Your name. He said your name. He’s never done that before. You didn’t think he knew your name.

  He learned to say it. For you.

  Drift whimpers like a kicked dog, moving to crouch lower. “Y/N. Y/N, please. Stay. Stay with me. Please don’t go. I love you.”

  You’ve changed his life. You don’t need to be told this. You know you’ve brought him a sense of joy he hasn’t felt in years. You didn’t come here of your own free will. But you freely chose to love him. You gave yourself up and became his everything while he became yours. Isn’t he your home? Isn’t he the one who saved you? Can you really leave someone who cares about you so much?

  Your legs move on their own accord. Your heart beats with his and you take tentative steps towards the door. Drift twitters and gives you an encouraging nod, gesturing for you to keep walking.

  Why do you want to leave him so badly? Why would you want to throw away this perfect life?

  Your little human hands come to rest right over his massive robotic ones. You two are separated, but you think you can feel the warmth coming from him. Drift bonks his forehead against the window anticipatingly. “Come on,” he whispers. “Come on. It’s…okay. You're okay. Please.”

  Your hands are human. You will never see another pair again if you return to him.

  Your life is not supposed to be perfect. A human’s life is messy, and disastrous, and chaotic, and beautiful. His life is too, but not in the same way as yours.

  “Goodbye, Drift,” you murmur, voice breaking. “LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01…take me to Earth.”

  The escape pods hums and rumbles. “Command accepted,” it announces. “Preparing ejection in three…two…one.”

  The last thing you see and hear before the pod lurches forward and rockets out of its dock is Drift’s agonized expression and his wrenching wail.

  Your vessel speeds away. You get a fantastic view of the ship in all of its stunning glory. It felt so gigantic when you were inside, but from out here, you can fully comprehend its overwhelming proportions. You watch it rapidly shrink as you gain distance from it, until it's just another speck of light in the universe. And when you can’t even see that anymore, you allow yourself to collapse against the floor eagles-spread. You gaze up at the ceiling, feeling surprisingly hollow. There is no victorious sense of triumph, no excitement to return home. You don’t even know where home is anymore. Somehow, after everything you’ve gone through, you’ve come out even more lost than you already were.

  The waterworks start shortly after the escape pod jumps into hyperspace. Heaving sobs, messy tears, you lie there and weep to the stars, not noticing when your collar finally stops beeping.

[kentobb]

PRESAGE | CHAPTER TWO

Characters: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Angst?

Author’s note: I feel like I should make a masterlist. Lmk what you guys think.

5 year later…

Five years had passed since the graduation, and Ushijima had become a household name in the world of volleyball. As a key player for the Schweiden Adlers, he had risen to fame with his exceptional skills and unyielding determination. His powerful spikes and steadfast presence on the court were often the highlight of sports news. Paparazzi followed him relentlessly, their cameras clicking like mechanical insects whenever he stepped out. His face adorned billboards, and his matches were televised events that drew millions of viewers.

Yet, despite the adulation and the accolades, a certain emptiness lingered in his heart. The constant attention was exhausting, and the endless cycle of training and competition left little room for personal reflection. It was this weariness that drove him to make a decision he rarely indulged in: he would take a break. He would return to his roots, to the serene landscapes of the Miyagi prefecture, and visit his mother for a month.

After informing his manager and ensuring his schedule was clear, Ushijima packed a small bag and took a quiet train ride out of Tokyo. The journey was a welcome change from the hustle of city life, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks and the rolling vistas of the countryside soothing his frazzled nerves.

He arrived in Miyagi to a brisk spring breeze and the familiar, comforting sights of his childhood.

His mother’s house stood as it always had, a modest home nestled among fields that stretched out under the wide sky. She greeted him with a warm embrace, her eyes sparkling with pride and joy.

“There’s my big star!” She said as she hugged him.

They spent the first evening catching up, sharing simple meals, and enjoying the unhurried pace of rural life.

It was a balm to his soul, and he felt a peace he hadn't known in years.

After a few days of rest, Ushijima decided to visit an old friend. Tendō Satori, his eccentric best friend from high school, had opened a chocolate store not far from Shiratorizawa Academy. The store, aptly named "Tendō's Treats," had quickly gained popularity for its unique and whimsical confections. Ushijima had followed its success from afar, often receiving care packages filled with Tendō's latest creations.

The shop was a cheerful, inviting place with bright colors and playful decorations that reflected Tendō’s personality. As Ushijima pushed open the door, a small bell chimed, and the rich scent of chocolate enveloped him. Tendō was behind the counter, his trademark grin widening as he looked up and saw his old friend.

“Waka-chan!” Tendō exclaimed, vaulting over the counter with surprising agility. “What a surprise! I didn’t know you were in town!”

Ushijima returned the grin with a rare smile of his own. “I needed a break,” he explained simply.

Tendō clapped him on the back and led him to a cozy corner of the shop. They sat among shelves filled with colorful chocolates, reminiscing about old times and catching up on the present. Tendō’s stories were as animated as ever, his laughter infectious.

“And here I thought you’d be too busy with all those interviews and matches to remember little old me,” Tendō teased, his eyes twinkling.

“You’re not easily forgotten,” Ushijima replied, a hint of warmth in his voice.

Ushijima took a sip of his hot chocolate, his mind wandering back to their high school days. The memories were bittersweet, tinged with nostalgia and regret. He turned to Tendō, who was leaning back in his chair, a contented smile on his face as he savored his own drink.

“Tendō,” Ushijima began, his voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you seen anyone from our class recently?”

Tendō’s eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Hmm, not too many, but I do keep in touch with a few. Why do you ask?”

Ushijima shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Just curious. It’s been a while since we graduated.”

Tendō grinned and reached under the counter, pulling out a well-worn yearbook. “Ah, perfect timing! I was just looking through this the other day. Let’s take a trip down memory lane.”

He placed the yearbook on the table and opened it to a random page. The pictures and names of their classmates stared back at them, frozen in time. Tendō began flipping through the pages, pointing out familiar faces and providing updates.

“Ah, the usual suspects. Goshiki is still obsessed with volleyball, training kids now. Semi’s in a band, believe it or not. Shirabu went into medicine, as expected. He’s working crazy hours but loves it.”

Ushijima nodded, taking it all in. There was a comfort in hearing about his old teammates, their paths diverging yet somehow staying true to the people they were in high school. But these updates were not the ones he truly sought.

Ushijima nodded absently, his eyes scanning the pages but not really absorbing the information. He wasn’t interested in his old friends, not today. His mind was elsewhere, on someone else entirely.

Tendō noticed his distraction and paused, his expression turning more serious. “Waka-chan, you seem... different. Is there someone specific you’re wondering about?

Ushijima hesitated, then nodded. “Yes. I’ve been trying to find her for years, but it’s like she vanished…” He breathed, “Do you know what happened to her? To Y/N”

Tendō’s eyes softened with understanding. He flipped through the yearbook with more purpose, stopping on a page featuring a picture of Ushijima and you sitting together in the library. Both engrossed in books, having a tutoring session, but the warmth your expression was unmistakable.

“I remember this,” Tendō said softly, tapping the picture. “You two were inseparable back then.”

Ushijima stared at the picture, memories flooding back. The late nights studying, the shared dreams, the quiet moments of understanding. His chest tightened with a mix of longing and regret.

Tendō closed the yearbook gently, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve heard a bit about her. She’s working as a waitress in a restaurant now. And... she has a kid.”

Ushijima’s eyes widened in surprise. “A kid? Is she married?”

Tendō shook his head. “No, there’s no husband or father in the picture as far as I know. I tried visiting her once to see how she was doing, but she avoided me. I didn’t want to push, especially knowing...”

He trailed off, but Ushijima understood. “Especially knowing that I broke her heart.”

Tendō nodded. “Yeah. Waka-chan. I didn’t want to make things harder for her.”

Ushijima leaned back in his chair, feeling a wave of emotions crash over him. Confusion, regret, a hint of heartbreak. But beneath it all, a deep, abiding yearning. Even after all these years, his heart still ached for you.

“I never wanted to hurt her,” he said quietly. “I thought I was doing what was best for both of us.”

Tendō reached across the table and placed a comforting hand on his friend’s arm. “I know. You did what you thought was right. But sometimes, life doesn’t go the way we plan.”

Ushijima nodded, his gaze distant. “She has a child now. I’m glad she’s moved on, even if it means she had to move on without me.”

Tendō’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “Maybe it’s not too late, Waka-chan. Maybe you can still make things right, or at least find some closure.”

Ushijima looked at his friend, the weight of years of unresolved feelings pressing down on him. “Do you really think so?”

Tendō smiled gently. “I do. It’s never too late to try.”

“Can you tell me the name of the restaurant where she works?”

Tendō’s eyes widened slightly, and he paused before answering. “It’s called Sakura’s Garden. Are you planning to see her?”

Ushijima nodded. “I need to. Maybe I’ll run into her...by coincidence.”

Tendō gave a small nod of understanding. “Coincidence, Waka-chan?”

The walk to Sakura’s Garden felt longer than it should have, each step echoing with the weight of anticipation. As he approached the restaurant, his heart pounded in his chest. He stood outside, peering through the window.

And there you were, moving gracefully between tables. You looked different—older, more mature, and… tired.

He couldn’t stop looking at you. The years had changed you, but there was no mistaking the woman he had once loved. His mind swirled with memories and questions, unable to tear his gaze away.

“What are you doing here?” a familiar voice demanded, cutting through his thoughts.

Ushijima turned to see Asami, your best friend from high school, standing there with a look of disbelief and anger.

“Asami,” he began, trying to keep his voice calm. “I’m just visiting town.”

Asami’s eyes narrowed. “You need to stay away from her, from Y/N.”

Ushijima was taken aback by the intensity of her words. “Why? I don’t understand.”

Before Asami could respond, a small voice interrupted them. “Aunty?”

They both turned to see a little boy standing nearby, looking up at them with curious eyes. Ushijima’s breath caught in his throat. The boy had the same dark, intense eyes he saw in the mirror every day, the same stoic expression.

Asami’s eyes flickered with panic as she glanced at the boy. “Go sit down, sweetie,” she said, her voice strained but gentle. The boy nodded and returned to his seat, casting one last look at Ushijima.

Ushijima watched the boy, his mind racing. The resemblance was undeniable. He turned back to Asami, his voice filled with confusion.

Asami’s expression hardened again. “You need to leave, Ushijima.”

Ushijima’s thoughts were a whirlwind. He looked back at the boy, who was now quietly drawing, the resemblance striking.

Asami shook her head, her eyes filled with a mix of anger and pity. “Leave.”

Ushijima stood there, torn between the need to know the answer of his own question and the realization that his presence might cause more harm than good. He took one last look at the boy, feeling a pang of longing and regret.

“Please,” Asami whispered, her voice softening. “Let her be.”

With a heavy heart, Ushijima nodded slowly. He turned and began to walk away, each step feeling like a battle against the unresolved feelings and questions that plagued him. As he left, he couldn’t shake the image of the boy from his mind. The resemblance, the possibility—it was all too much to process.

But for now, he had no choice but to leave, carrying with him the weight of unanswered questions.

Why does that little boy looks like him?

Comments, notes and reblogs are appreciated! Feel free to let me know how you feel about this chapter <3

[darkmuffinstudios]

Was bored and decided to create a silly little one-shot of Errormare for @inkywellcrow 🤭

Who knows, I might get more motivation to make more parts, I might not haha

Baking One-Shot (Errormare) (1.7k words)

Darkxsoulzyxcaliberx

Dream’s birthday (and by extension, Nightmare’s) was only a few days away, and the two most dastardly villains of the multiverse were in the middle of making something for it.

You see, after many decades of struggle, the two guardians grew weary of the constant back-and-forth and had since settled on a truce; No more bloodshed and no more overbearing war meetings. After so long, however, the two had long since forgotten times of peace. It was nothing more than echoes of what could have been, as well as what once was… So, as always in their relationship, Nightmare decided to be the first to extend one of many olive branches that will occur down the line.

To show a sign of good faith and to celebrate the occasion, Nightmare had his boys come up with gift ideas that they would give to his brother. The dark king had hoped that, whatever the gifts may be, that the action alone would show that he intended to support this truce and to keep friendly relations with his other half.

But asking a band of miscreants and murderers was a bad decision in hindsight, and so after many, MANY days of brainstorming, he eventually caved to Horror’s insistence on a birthday cake.

Which brings us to the present…

“Error, you’re whisking batter, not pummeling it into submission.” Nightmare scolded lightly. He wiped his hands on the apron he was wearing, trying not to get too irritated at how sloppy of a job his partner was doing.

“This is stupid.” Error grumbled.

“Error— slower, slower.”

“Don’t— !” His body locked up at Nightmare’s complaining, and he drastically slowed down his pace to a glaringly slow tempo. He gave Nightmare a frustrated look, to which the king easily brushed off. “Don’t tell me what to do. I read the recipe too.”

“Uh huh.” Nightmare deadpanned, setting a metal tray on the counter. “You're also as blind as a bat without your glasses, my dear.”

“They would have just got in the way.” Error huffed. After a few more mixes, he decided that surely was enough of that, and he dropped the bowl into the counter with a loud CLANK. “There. Done mixing.”

Nightmare rubbed his temples. What was that method of reducing stress? Counting back from five? Whatever it was, it surely wasn’t working as well as he had hoped. “Please don’t slam the bowl down.”

“Mmhm.” Error leaned against the counter, dismissive.

For his own mental (and Error’s physical) wellbeing, Nightmare opted to ignore him for a little while. Once he sprayed down the baking pan, he glanced over Error’s work. There was still some dry clumps of the batter mix floating around, but he wasn’t going to correct any of it since he knows how much his partner loves to throw his tantrums. Besides, Dream has been a pain in his ass for decades— the least he can do is crunch on some raw flour to save him from future headaches.

Carefully, he lifted the bowl and poured the mixture into the baking tin. Using a tentacle, he grabbed a spatula he set out beforehand to scrape any excess, and quietly put the bowl down. He gave Error a mild look.

Error met his gaze and paused, looking to either side of himself. “… What?”

“That’s how you put a bowl down. Silently.” Nightmare said, his voice dripping honey and tar.

“Oh, fuck you.” Error griped, rolling his eyes so over dramatically that his head went with it. Nightmare couldn’t help but smile at how stupid he could be.

After making his point, he walked over to the oven with the pan. After opening it with a tentacle (fashioned with a cute little baking mitten), he placed the pan inside and shut it with his hip. Making note of the time, he finally allowed himself to slump against the counter.

Nightmare looked up at the ceiling. How the hell does Horror do this every single day? Willingly?? He couldn’t even imagine how difficult it would be to order his men around such a small space, never mind how destructive all of them already are. Just the thought started to give him a headache…

“So,” Error started. “Why didn’t you ask your uh…” He thought for a moment, his body glitching a little from the effort.

“Horror?” Nightmare offered.

“Yeah— the big, freaky guy— to do this for you? Doesn’t he do this stuff already?”

Nightmare sighed. “… Well… Monster food is magic—”

“Uh. Yeah— I know.”

“I know that you know—“

“Then why say it—?”

Nightmare turned and glared at him. “Just let me talk!” Error held up his hands defensively, glaring right back at him for a moment, before Nightmare eventually continued.

“Well, because monster food is made of magic, then cooking monster food involves magic too. It incorporates the chef’s intent, and can communicate unspoken feelings through each bite.” Nightmare idly messed with one of the spoons on the counter, staring at the oven glass as he spoke. “To put it simply, it has to be made by me. I may not be the best at baking, but he will understand and appreciate the gesture anyways. He is that kind of guy, unfortunately.” He scoffed.

“So why drag me into this?” Error groused. “I couldn’t care less about making ‘Mr.Sunshine’ feel any better than he already feels.”

“Oh.” Nightmare turned to flash a smug look at Error. “Because I didn’t want to suffer alone.”

Error stared at Nightmare. For a long, long moment. A quiet, high-pitched sound began to come from Error’s body— the telltale sign that he was starting to crash. “You’re joking.”

Nightmare shrugged. “Am I?”

Error grabbed the whisk from the counter, chucking it with all his strength at Nightmare. “YOU ASS!! I COULD HAVE LEFT AT ANY TIME?!?”

The king chuckled, letting the whisk hit his shoulder. “Of course you could have. You weren’t obligated to do any of this.”

Error threw his arms around, already hellbent on destroying the kitchen. He ripped the toaster from its electrical socket, threatening to throw it on the ground when Nightmare continued. “But you stayed because you love me.”

That got Error to freeze in place. He stared at Nightmare, bewildered for a few seconds, before slowly lowering the toaster onto the counter. “… Whatever.” He mumbled, stewing.

Nightmare smiled at Error’s obvious admission of defeat, finding himself slowly walking over to him. He stopped a good few feet away, settling on leaning against the counter once more. “You love me, and wanted to help me because you loved me.” He teased lightly.

Error bristled. “I will leave!”

“But then I’d be so sad if you did.” Nightmare touched his own chest, right over where his apple soul would be. “All alone… abandoned…”

Error huffed, crossing his arms. “Good! Feel bad!! Feel bad for tormenting me for HOURS while I slaved away in this kitchen for you!!”

“It was only an hour, dear.” Nightmare chuckled.

“NUH UH!! You’re wrong!!” Error scowled, swinging an arm out to the side and ripping a portal open to a random, unsuspecting world. He gestured wildly to the setting sun. “See!! HOURS!! It’s already growing dark!!”

Nightmare rolled his eye. “Mmhm.” He knew he wasn’t winning this fight.

Error smiled triumphantly, leaning a little closer to Nightmare. The portal fizzled next to them, disappearing soon after. “Apologize.”

Nightmare raised a metaphorical eyebrow at Error. “For what?”

“For being mean and awful and terrible!” Error demanded, counting on his fingers as he went.

Nightmare rolled his eye for the second time. “Mmmmmmno. I don’t think I will.”

Error leaned back, pouting now. “Asshole.”

Nightmare sighed. A brief moment of silence grew between them as they waited for the cake to bake before Nightmare sighed again, shoulder sagging. He looked at the clock hanging on the far wall of the kitchen, then back at the oven glass. The cake wasn’t rising at all.

“… Do you think he will like it?”

Error didn’t look at Nightmare, arms still crossed. After another beat of silence, Error’s shoulders sagged a little and he quietly responded. “What do you mean.”

Another beat of silence. Error didn’t like it. He turned back to glance at Nightmare, only to see the other have his hands folded against his chest in a sort-of self hug. His tentacles were curled inward on themselves, and Nightmare hadn’t looked up once from the oven glass.

It bugged Error. He tried again, softer. “What... do you mean by that?” Nightmare sighed again, a third time, and it was starting to get to Error. He shook his head. “No one hates chocolate cake. If I find out he does, I’m throwing him.”

“Not the cake.” Nightmare answered quietly, though he did smile a little at Error’s threat. The spectacle of the destroyer of worlds tossing his brother like a football was amusing, to say the least. He gestured vaguely, trying to find the right words. “My… message.”

“Message?” Error echoed, clearly confused.

“My intent.” Nightmare tried instead. “It’s… I want this to go well. I want this to be our first steps in making up with one another, and I tried to put as much as I could into this cake… I tried to not fill it with…” he sighed, the fourth time. “… with my lingering feelings of the past.”

Nightmare raised a hand. “I’m certain I didn’t, and I know this won’t make up for everything that has happened between us… but…” He slowly brought his hand back towards himself, back to where it was wrapped around his chest. “I don’t know… I lack the proper words at the moment.”

Not that Error needed all of the words to understand. He thought a little bit before he spoke. “That’s why you asked me to help you with this.” The dots started connecting more in his head as he turned to Nightmare. “You didn’t want to do this alone.”

Nightmare considered Error’s words. “… I suppose I didn’t.”

Error stared at Nightmare, trying to get maybe just a little bit more out of him, before turning to look back at the oven. “… I think he’ll like it.”

“You think so?” Nightmare’s voice sounded uncertain.

“Yeah.” Error shrugged. “He is that kind of guy, like you said.”

Nightmare smiled a little. “I guess you’re right.”

[ukiyowi]

Mini PAC I

Notes: Please check out the Masterlist for more! Reblogging and paid readings help a lot! Pls DM me if you want one!

What flower are you? 🌸🌸

Read from left to right, 1 - 3 then 4 - 6

Note - I know its not long, but I am still coming into things because of the long break I had taken from pick a card readings which is why I will slowly build up to reach my ability to do longer readings again whilst doing shorter readings in the time being.

Paid readings || Old PACs

Pile 1: Crocus

Your energy resembles that of the flower crocus. Although these usually symbolise the welcoming of spring and the start of youth, as well as cheerfulness and hope, some cronus flowers also grow with the start of fall or winter. These signify the changing of times and renewal alongside new beginnings.

You may be the kind of person that changes constantly for the better, you're always trying to see how you can improve yourself and work on yourself, whilst keeping a positive mindset and optimistic approach to life. You may be someone who's constantly hopeful even in times of dire stress or situations where people may feel hopeless, being the well needed light in times of darkness.

Pile 2: Hydrangea

Hydrangeas often symbolise gratitude and understanding but can also represent abundance, prosperity, love, peace and grace. Certain cultures also associate them with forgiveness and apologies.

You could be the kind of person who finds it very easy to forgive people, you could also be forgiving to a fault at times which might end up hurting you. You may be conventionally attractive and be of a calm demeanor, knowing how to keep your cool and the kind of person who will always vouch for peace or often stay neutral during arguments, acting as a designated mediator.

Pile 3: Lunaria

Lunaria often symbolise honesty, transparency and the flow of money due to its other names being Honesty or Silver Dollar plant and the names stem from their translucent seed pods that resemble silver coins. In some cultures, it is also believed that keeping these plants near the alter or at the home, helps ward off monsters or negative spirits.

You may be the kind of person who finds themself to be lucky in the matters of finances and carry goodluck in general. Your guides may be extremely strong and great and warding off any sort of lingering negative energies near you which can often result in you having a lot of moments where something bad almost happens but then doesn't. People value you as the name of the plant suggests for your honesty and how you are able to give them straightforward responses.

Pile 4: Xylosma

So this plant is not as known and was a little tough to research upon however, it is very special in my opinion. The plant I usually used for ornamental purposes and beautification due to their adaptability in different kinds of environments and has a very strong network when it comes to the structure of the plant itself.

You may be the kind of people pile 4 who are grounded in reality and may be realists to a fault. You find peace and quiet in the smaller things in life and may have found yourself in positions of having to be resilient because of fast-paced challenges being thrown at you like constantly changing jobs or schools or constant movement. Furthermore, you are able to provide people with the safe space and security they need as well.

Pile 5: Ixia

Ixia represents, joy, happiness and cheerfulness and with it's very colourful and bright appearance I think it also represents the innocence of youth and childhood. It also often represents the fulfilment of wishes and aspirations and an environment where dreams and hopes can be cultivated.

You pile 5, are the dreamers and the people who actually go after what they are passionate about and see it through rather than simply thinking about it. You are able to execute your ideas and plans which lead to the fulfilment of your desires which may put people off at times because they may think you have it easy. However, your youthful spirit keeps even people envious of you to hold you in high regards.

Pile 6: Blanket Flower

One of my favourite kinds, blanket flower represents warmth which is suggested by the name itself, protection, nurturing and perseverance. In some cases they are also associated with festivities and celebrations due to their vibrant colours that stand out in any room.

You could be the kind of people who are always looking out for others and may be the first person someone goes to when they are having a hard time because of your warm and comforting presence. You may also be a little bit of a party animal where you love to go all out and dance and sing and celebrate even the smallest of your victories because you have had to cultivate that habit so that you prevent yourself from becoming overly critical.