#something new to take its place afterwards. help.

[hollypies]

New Goddess of Light

Bby Radi all grown up... sniff.. they grow so fast 🥲

#art #help how do i anatomy #hk art #hk au #radiance hk #hollow knight au #the radiance #bby radi au #hk au art #hk the radiance #hollow knight art #hk fanart #hollow knight fanart #girlies i am. going insane #wish me luck i need to sew somethin to my moms backpack. i do not. have a thimble 💀 #i also dont have a sewing machine its all by hand babyyy #anyway im kinda scared for silksong because its been one of my main motivaters to keep going (ik it sounds silly) and im gonna need somethi #something new to take its place afterwards. help.

[luvinescent]

Entangled Fates

Pairing: Robb Stark x fem!Targaryen!Reader

Summary: The Targaryen name has brought nothing but misery to Y/N— her half-blood placing a curse upon her. She's observed the toll her presence takes on the people she loves; no longer wanting to form a close tie with anyone. Nevertheless, her heart steered its own course. And it steered towards a certain man.

Warnings: angst. allusion to r*pe and death, nothing descriptive. a steamy make-out scene but nothing crazy. not really book or show accurate but f it we ball. also fluff. also reader has dark hair so just pretend u do if u don't xoxo.

Word count: 10.1K (beginning just has lots of background lore pls bear w/ me)

In life, there are those destined for lavish living and those made to struggle to see their next day. From a young age, Dorea knew she fell into the second category. She grew up orphaned; never knowing the love of a mother or a father. Despite the fact, Dorea was strong willed; she found her own kind of love. Love for herself, love for her friends, and love for her life. She knows that she did not have the best life; her dresses had holes in them, she had to work from dawn to dusk, and she often would need to go days without eating. That ultimately changed the day a close friend of hers had come to her with a new line of work.

“One of the castles maids was executed, so her position is open to take”.

Looking back, she should’ve said no from the way a chill went up her spine. She had heard the rumors of the king having gone mad; but at the time, that was not her problem. Being a castle maid sounded a lot better than being a candle maker. All she had to do was clean the chambers and mind her business and pay would be given to her. The task sounded easy— it should’ve been easy. Dorea had ways of not drawing attention to herself. That is how she has made it this far in her life; from hiding. The peace of obscurity brought her comfort; being anonymous was a safe refuge that protected her from prying eyes and the entanglements of wicked connections. The girl was pure and innocent.

Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans.

She truly had done all she could to stay out of the eyes of the royal family. She should’ve been more careful, more attentive, more aware of the eyes that followed her unknowingly when she walked the halls. Her foolishness had caught up to her one day when a guard had dragged her to the throne room; thrown to the ground to kneel in front of the king, Aerys II Targaryen. Dorea was ready to open her mouth and beg for forgiveness on whatever crimes she had committed but was silenced in fear. “You will meet me in my chambers tonight”, he said. Dorea could do nothing but nod as she could not go against the kings’ words. The only thing she could do was look to the Hand of the King for some form of help, but they stood muted. Moments later, she was whisked away by some female servants— some of them her own friends— and was prepared for the event. She was washed and dressed properly; never have been so physically clean yet so dirty internally.

Later that night, her virtue and gaiety of life was destroyed when the king came and took her. She had prayed to the Gods that it was only a one-time thing. But the Gods seemed to find her plea a joke. The king would request her presence many more times and many more nights afterwards. Her position as a maid in the castle vanished overnight. Now, she stood as something different; still, she did not know exactly what. All Dorea knew was she felt shame as those working in the castle started to treat her different, with more respect and caution. She dreamt every night for this nightmare to end, but it only continued.

“The girl is pregnant, your grace”. The maestar told the king. Both fear and relief spread through her body. Fear in the sense that the king would have her eliminated to hide such sin, and relief that he might just send her away forever. It had to be one or the other; from what she has seen, the queen is currently pregnant as well and due in a few moons. Furthermore, he already had two children born, why would he need her? Her thoughts were interrupted by the third alternative she had feared the most, “You will continue to stay here. You will have the child”. Later that night, Dorea prayed once more for all this suffering to end. Finally, her prayer had been answered in the worst way possible.

She had heard the talks of the rebellion, but she never thought it would come to where she resigned. The king’s heir was now dead, along with his wife and children. The queen was now dead; dying from childbirth. The middle child and newest member of the royal family had been sent to exile. And the Mad King was now dead as well; stabbed by a member of his own Kingsguard.

Death and misery surrounded Dorea everywhere.

For her own safety, and her chance once again at freedom, she did what she knew she had to do. She ran away.

Dorea took refuge in a small village that resided in the Reach. Selling all the gifts and jewelry the king had bestowed upon her; she and her unborn child were set for life. A few moons later, Dorea gave birth during a warm summer night. As she held the newborn in her arms, she thought the Gods had finally decided to take pity on her and grant her some kindness. For starters, she had given birth to a girl. Dorea was thankful in the sense that the child would not be seen as a threat to the line of succession of the Iron throne. Additionally, the babe had no features of a Targaryen. Caressing the small amount of hair on her daughter’s hair, she was given hair as dark as night instead of the silvery-gold feature of her biological father. Dorea let out a sigh of relief once the girl opened her eyes— no violet eyes either. Pulling the babe closer to her chest, she gave a quick prayer and smiled down at the sleeping babe.

Dorea named her Y/N.

As time passed, Y/N quickly grew before her mothers’ eyes. Both her and her mother were beloved by the village folks— Dorea giving money to those who were in need, and her daughter who was tenderhearted and befriended all. No one in the village had known about Doreas’ past or Y/N true linage. And Dorea wanted to keep it that way. She, however, knew that one day it would all come back to bite her. Despite having run away, she knew that there were some people who knew of their existence. It did not help her case more when Y/N had begun to show a great fascination with fire; something the mothers of the village made jokes about, but Dorea knew the truth.

“You have dragon blood within you”, Dorea had whispered to her daughter one quiet night. “You are part Targaryen, but you must keep this a secret. I am only telling you this for your own safety. There are people in this world who will want to hurt you, to take you away from me. Do you understand darling?”. At just the age of eight, Y/N was smarter and brighter than her peers. Hearing such solemness in her mothers’ voice, she nodded, “Yes mother”.

Such a topic was dropped and never brought up again— that was until Y/N turned ten. Since Dorea had the funds, she had hired a tutor for the young girl. Y/N’s instructor was a retired tutor who had taught many kids from noble homes before moving to their village. The old man was just supposed to teach her simple things like language, arts, music, and maths.  Without her mothers’ knowledge, Y/N brought up the topic of history to her teacher, particularly the history of the Targaryen household. And that’s where everything started.

It was one calm afternoon in their shared bedroom when Y/N had asked the question. “Mother, am I cursed?”. Dorea, puzzled, stopped brushing her daughter’s hair and turned towards her, “What kind of question is that?”. Y/N looked sheepishly to the side and confessed everything, “I have been learning history with my tutor. Targaryen history”. Before Dorea could respond, the young girl continued, “You say I am half Targaryen, and based upon their history, I must be cursed”. Dorea questioned what she meant and then let out a loud laugh at her daughters’ answer: “I have black hair mother”.

Dorea caressed her daughters face, smiling and shaking her head, “Darling, your hair color does not mean anyth- “.

“But its true mother!” Y/N exclaimed, “It is shown all over their history. Rhaenyra Targaryen’s eldest sons were born with dark hair, and they all died before they could reach adulthood. Rhaenys Targaryen was known as the “Queen Who Never Was” and saw the death of her two children in her lifetime. Rhaegar Targaryen’s daughter was killed in the sack of Kings Landing. Valarr Targaryen was- “.

“What does any of that have to do with you?!”, Dorea shouted out, startling Y/N. The young girl felt tears come to her eyes as she hid herself in her mothers’ embrace, muffling her words, “They were not pure Targaryen. I am not a pure Targaryen, mother. I do not wish to fall to such misfortunes”. Dorea felt her heart break at the sound and thoughts of her daughters’ troubles. Shaking her head, Dorea raised Y/Ns’ head and looked straight into her eyes, “You are not cursed. Their misfortunes are not yours. Do you hear me girl? This is your life, and you control it”. Y/N could do nothing but continue to cry. "It's okay, sweetheart," her mother whispered, her voice a tender melody that carried reassurance. Dorea cradled the young girl, whose sobs softened but still lingered, the remnants of a storm that had raged within her fragile heart. “I will protect you no matter what”, she declared.

Y/N would forever remember that loving moment, amongst the many others she shared with her mother. While Dorea had said she would do anything to protect her, Y/N should’ve said the same thing back. Yet, fate, with its twisted sense of irony, had other plans for the daughter. Not even a month later, Y/Ns’ mother died, succumbing to a mysterious illness that took her in a matter of days. It felt as though the moment she acknowledged the said “curse”, her world only came to be filled with hurt.

Being only ten years old and now orphaned, the people in the village were kind enough to take the girl in. Specifically, it was a family of three that consisted of a father and mother and a son her age who took her into their home. The boy, named Tomas, had always been a close friend of Y/N. The two would spend many days together, playing and running around in the meadows. He would pick flowers for her and in return she would do the same. There was even one early morning when the two stood by their village’s lake and shared a kiss with each other. Despite still being a child, Y/N felt as though she was feeling the love that was described in the fairytale stories her mother used to read to her.

Sadly, that love was taken from her as well. At the young age of one and three, Tomas had somehow fallen and drowned in that same lake. Y/N had never heard such a devasting scream as Edith, Tomas’s mother, held her dead son in her arms. The village was both in mourning and in query; Tomas had been taught to swim at the age of four, how could this have happened? No explanations were thought of, but Y/N had her own belief.

I’m cursed, she would toss in turn in her bed at night, I am cursed.

Two more years would pass by, and no other unfortunate incidents would have occurred. But there is always calm before the storm. One day, something within Y/N had made her go explore the small forest that was near her village. It was nothing out of the ordinary; she had done it many times before. Yet, she stayed exploring for hours before that same voice within her told her to return. Upon seeing her village within the distance, Y/N should’ve never listened to that voice. She wishes she could’ve stayed back and continue being ignorant of everything. Her village— the homes, the crops, the trees, everything, was up in flames. Running down the dirt paths, Y/N did not have time (nor did she want to) to acknowledge all slaughtered men, women, and children that laid on the grounds. A small amount of hope had sparked within her when she saw that her home was not ablaze. That hope died upon entering the residence— Y/N crying out in distress at the sight of Edith, the women she had come to see as her second mother, dead on the ground. Her sadness was turned to fear when she spotted a large man in the corner, angry and hungry for blood. Before the crazed man could run at her, he was tackled to the ground by Lance— Edith’s husband and her adopted father. He was clearly injured; covered in blood from head to toe but still had the strength in him to scream at Y/N, desperation laced in his voice, “Run girl! Run and do not look back!”. Y/N, not wanting to witness his clear end, quickly listened to his order and ran out the door, trying her best to stay out of sight of all the other savage men as she made her way out the village.

She must’ve ran for hours before she knew she was no longer in danger. A day or two of traveling passed by before she took residence in a small city. That same night, under a dirty bridge, she finally acknowledged all hell that had occurred to her within the past forty-eight hours. The dams broke as she cried and screamed out in sorrow and pain. She cried, and cried, and cried until she had no more tears to let out; now consumed by numbness. Her mother, her first love, her caretakers, her childhood friends, her home; had all been taken from her. What had she done to deserve this? With her heart broken into millions of pieces, Y/N decided that she wouldn’t live like this. Never would she fall in love and never would she form a deep connection with anyone again. She wasn’t going to let herself be tied to the Targaryen name, to its blood, nor its curse. She wasn’t going to let this curse win and see her suffer again.

And so, she did; well, she tried her best at least. With the little money she had on her, Y/N jumped from village to village, city to city, and made sure not to socialize with anyone. There were some instances of people trying to get to know her, boys trying to court her, but she wouldn’t stay very long and would be gone the next day. It was a lonely life, a life she despised but knew she had to endure. That changed a bit when she came face to face with a woman with a fair complexion and silver hair.

Daenerys Targaryen. The “Mother of Dragons”. Her older half-sister.

Daenerys had always known about her half-sister’s existence; her older brother one day rambling that the throne belongs to a true Targaryen and not the current usurper, nor the “Targaryen-bastard filth” their father left behind. At first, Y/N was wary of the girl but soon found herself becoming fond of her presence. Daenerys felt the same way; with no family left on either girl’s end, they quickly found solace in each other— treating one another as the sisters they are. It was strange at first for Y/N; getting used to now having family once again and the companionship of dragons that came with it. Initially, she was terrified at the sight of the foreign creatures but quickly came to love them and their beautiful nature. She became quite close with the one called Rhaegal, favoring the dragon over the overs. Rhaegal doted and protected the girl the same; but still recognized Daenerys as its’ rightful mother. Y/N could say she just held the title of “favorite aunt” now amongst the creatures.

The thought of the curse still weighed heavy in the back of her mind, but Y/N hypothesized that whatever superstition was out to get her would not harm her sister; a true (and last) Targaryen. Y/N immediately recognized Daenerys as her queen and vowed to help her reclaim her throne. For some time, Y/N felt happiness once again entering her life as she spent more time with her sister and her allies. That bliss, however, turned out to be false hope.

“When the time comes and I reclaim my throne, I will legitimize you as a Targaryen”, Daenerys spoke to her one night. Y/N wanted to decline right away; she was content with not having a household name and did not want to be associated with the Targaryen name. Before Y/N could speak, Daenerys looked shamefully down while holding her sister’s hand, “There is a reason why I came looking for...”. Y/N felt a chill run up her spine and quickly encouraged the Mother of Dragons to continue. “I am unable to have my own children. When the time is right, I will need you to find a man, any man of your choosing..”, Daenerys sternly said as she looked into Y/N eyes, “I will need an heir to inherit the throne and continue my family name. Do you understand sister?”. Daenerys felt guilt creep up inside her as she finally confessed her true intentions from the start of meeting Y/N. She was asking too much of Y/N but, she, however, was on a mission to reclaim her birthright no matter what. Y/N stared agape at her, no words coming from her mouth. She wanted to decline even more— but, looking into Daenerys eyes, she saw the graveness within them and the true tone behind her words. She was not asking this of her as her sister. She was commanding this of her as her queen. And Y/N would do anything for her rightful queen.

“Yes, sister. I understand”. Y/N now found herself tied to the Targaryen name. Something she vowed never to be but couldn’t escape.

As time passed by, Y/N kept her promise and stood by Daenerys side as she continued her conquest; now finding herself at Dragonstone, her sister’s ancestral home. The preparations and campaign for Daenerys claim to the Iron Throne was in full effect but was interrupted momentarily.

“The King in the North?”, Daenerys questioned one of her advisors who came bearing news. “Yes my Queen. He sent a raven— detailing that he wishes to speak with you”. Y/N, standing off to the side, expressed her thoughts and question, “I had heard that the King in the North was dead”.

“As did I”, Daenerys said sharply. The man before them nodded his head, “Yes. There was an incident that had occurred that made everyone believe he was dead. But he is very much alive”. Daenerys raised her eyebrows up, skeptical about this so called “King in the North”— “And he trusts me with the information of his false death?”

“Well, according to his letter, yes.”

Y/N and Daenerys turned, staring into each other’s eyes, speaking with them. Not much emotion was shown behind Y/N eyes, but she was able to express with them, “What harm is there in seeing what he wants”. Sighing, Daenerys nodded her head and agreed with her sister.

“Send a message back. Invite him here and let him know I agree to speak with him”.

A few days later, Y/N stood on the shores, waiting to welcome her guests on the request of Daenerys. Once she saw the boats pull up on the beach, she made her way but stopped in amazement. Out from one of the boats came a large, thick furred animal— a dire wolf. She had only ever heard about the mythical creatures and now she was in close distance with one. Dragons and now dire wolves; she held a small smile on her face at the uniqueness that was the world. Clearing their throats, the two guards behind her had snapped her out of her daydream, reminding her of the task. Standing tall, Y/N put on her best welcoming smile and stood in front of the party, “Welcome to Dragonstone. I have been sent by our rightful Queen to give our greetings”.

Y/N voice had started loud and clear, but slightly quieted down towards the end as she made eye contact with a man. A very handsome man to be exact, she thought to herself. He stood tall and strong, a lean build with dark curls and blue eyes as blue as the water behind them. He smiled at her and before he could open his mouth, the older man next to him spoke up. “I present Robb Stark. Heir to the Stark household and King of the North”. Y/N raised her eyebrows at the discovery of the handsome stranger being the King in the North. Turning to him, she held a sort of mischief but harsh attitude in her voice, “Is the King in the North unable to speak for himself?”

The men in front of her were clearly taken back. Except for Robb Stark who let out a small laugh. “Forgive me, my lady, I am very capable of speaking. I am Robb Stark”. He held out his hand and was charmed when she firmly grasped it and shook it; opting out of giving her his hand to kiss.  

“I am not a lady. Please, call me Y/N”. Robb was preparing himself to compliment her name but was cut off by the same man next to him. “She’s the Targaryen bastard, your grace”. Though it was meant to be a whisper for only Robb to hear, Y/N was in close enough proximity to have heard it as well. Robb swiftly turned to his advisor next to him, giving him a crude look before turning back to the girl, “Forgive the rudeness of- “

“No, it is quite alright” she waved her hand, “It is all true anyway. I am THAT Targaryen bastard”. Robb nodded, gulping as he tried to ease the tension, “I have heard a lot about you...and your sister too, of course”. Y/N wanted to let out a chuckle at the sight before her; a gorgeous man trying his best not to insult her. “And I have heard very little about you,” Y/N voiced, “Other than the fact that you were supposedly dead, which I can see you are very much alive”, looking him up and down with her eyes. Robb smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head, “It is a long story”. Y/N let out a “hmm” sound, looking off towards the side to the dire wolf. “Is he yours?”

“Yes. His name is Grey Wind. I’ve had him since he was a pup”. Y/N nodded once more, noticing just how well behaved the wolf was, “He’s very beautiful”. Robb thanked her for the compliment, grinning widely, “I can see you are fond of animals. Do you have any of your own?”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head, “No. I have children.”

Robb was clearly taken back by her words, a stuttering mess as he questioned her statement. “O-oh? You have children?”. Y/N could sense some disappointment in his voice towards the end as it cracked. Smiling, she shook her head. “No. But I do consider them children. Just not mine. I am just an aunt”. All the guests in front of her were puzzled by her words but ducked down in fear at the sound of a roar from above. Looking up, she smiled at the sight of Rhaegal and Drogon patrolling the skies.

“Seven hells!” she heard one of Robbs’ men yell out. Turning back, she playfully spoke “My children. Beautiful, aren’t they?”. None of Robbs’ men were able to agree or speak; still in shock. Robb, still looking up to the sky, laughed earnestly, “Well, they sure are an eccentric sight to see”. Y/N smiled more at his honesty, clapping her hands together, turning and speaking to the entire party, “Well. I believe that is a sufficient way to welcome you all here. Now, I must welcome you into the castle. Please come, the Queen is curious to known what it is you wish to speak about”.

Upon greeting the Queen, Robb Starks’ words and terms were clear to her. He wishes to ally with her in her conquest to take the throne and create a fairer and just realm. “We both have a clear enemy,” he spoke, “I want the Lannisters dead for what they have done to my family, and you want them off the throne entirely”. Every so often, Robb would cast his eyes off to the side to look at Y/N; something she tried her best to hide her reddening face from. “My men, though small numbers, will be yours to use. We ask that in return, once you take your rule, you allow the North to maintain a degree of self-rule. We will recognize you as the rightful Queen, but we wish to keep the North the way it is”. Daenerys nodded her head, asking her advisors for their views on the matter, and taking Y/N by surprise when she asked her as well. “As I perceive it, the North is biggest land piece in Westeros. It would be better to keep them as allies instead of fighting them off. They recognize you as Queen, and the Stark household keeps the North in check for you, sister”. Daenerys responded with another nod, showing to be clear in thought at all the opinions given to her. The Queen stood up, still not fully convinced, but could not deny all the positives of the compromise, “Very well. I will continue to think about the matter. I will let you know that my thoughts are leaning more toward yes than it is no. For now, your men must be tired. Allow my people to escort them to rest”.

Later that night, Y/N made her way down the dark halls to the one place in the castle that brought her peace. She almost let out a small scream at the tall shadow that appeared around the corner, “My lady?”. Placing her hand to her chest to control her tachycardic heart, she saw that the dark shadow was Robb Stark. “Your grace. You almost scared me to death”, Y/N laughed, “And please, I am not a lady of noble birth. Call me by my first name”. Robb returned her laugh with his own, apologizing for scaring her. “Forgive me, my lad- Y/N. I was just curious as to why you are out so late”. She nodded her head in the direction she was originally heading in, “I can not sleep so I was heading to the library to bore myself with some reading” she joked, “Is it not late for you to be awake as well?”. Robb gave a similar answer; unable to sleep and practically full of energy. Y/N looked down at the ground for a mere second before glancing into his eyes, “Would you like to join me?”. He agreed to her invite, thankful for the darkness of the night hiding his blushed face.

Dimly lit by flickering candlelight, the shelves towered, laid with books that held centuries of knowledge and wisdom. Robb made himself comfortable at one of the chairs available while Y/N opted for the window nook. “Do you come in here often?” Robb asked. Y/n offered a silent yes, trailing her fingers against the rim of the book she had chosen, “I have not been here that long, but yes. I come here every night; I tend to have trouble sleeping”.

“Why is that?” Robb questioned.

“Nightmares”, Y/N replied. Her dreams were always filled with visions of her dead loved ones.

After a pause, Robb gave a “hmm”; silently admiring the girl for not being afraid to show vulnerability. “That’s something we both have in common” he gave a warm smile. Another quiet pause passed by until Y/N looked up at him, “You say that you being alive is a long story— can I listen to it?”. Robb gave a slight nod, standing up to sit next to her in a close but comfortable proximity.

“I was to marry the daughter of someone who I thought was my ally. I agreed initially but something within me told me not to carry out my word”. He slowly reached over for the book that was in her hands, both hands brushing slightly as he took it out of her grasp, now distracting himself with it. “The wedding still went on; I supplied another man in my place. But, there was bloodshed, and I was betrayed. I barely made it out alive, along with a few other men of mine”. Inhaling sharply, he continued with his outpour, “And I’m thankful I did. I have sources that tell me that even if I went along with the wedding, I was to be killed no matter what. The Lannisters long ago forming allies with the people I thought I could trust”. Coming close to a finish, he looked into Y/N eyes, softly smiling, “I guess it was fate that saved me somehow”.

Breaking eye contact, Y/N scoffed at his words. “Fate” she said with repugnance. Her reply caught him off guard, raising his eyebrows in surprise, “You do not believe in fate?”.

Y/N took in a long sigh, shaking her head, “No I believe in it”, she gently whispered the last part, “We just never have seen eye to eye. My fate only brings me bad luck”. Robb took in her words, trying to calculate what he should say next. “I believe fate can bring both good and bad luck”, he began with, “One can say it was my fathers’ fate to have been killed, or my sisters’ fates to be held captive”, Robb swallowed thickly before continuing, “But, it is my fate to avenge and save them. It is fate that has brought me this far; that has brought me here and to you”, he slowly spoke while staring deep into Y/N eyes. She quickly looked away, hoping her face wasn’t red and was successful in controlling her facial expression. Clearing her throat, she spoke firmly, “You must be confused; I believe you are trying to woo the wrong sister, Stark. Is it not my sister who you need as your ally?”.

Robb let out a low laugh, grinning widely, “That may be true, but”, he slowly scanned the room in a playful manner, “I believe that I don’t see your sister in here at all. So, no, I am not confused. I am speaking to the right sister”. A third pause passed by as the two continued staring, wating for one of them to speak or do something. Y/N was the first— standing abruptly, she moved her hair behind her ear and let out an awkward ahem. “I believe I must retire for the night. It was nice speaking to you Stark”. Before she could make her way out the door, he called out to her.

“It’s Robb”. Turning, she questioned what he meant. Smiling, he spoke, “You can call me Robb. You say you come here every night?”. Y/N nodded her head. “Would you allow me to see you here again tomorrow? Or even spend some time with you come morning?”.

Y/N wanted to say no. She needed to stop whatever friendship (or relationship) was forming between the two before she got too close. Before her curse got to him. He had already suffered enough. Despite the fact, deep down, her own selfish desires won over. She hadn’t felt like this in forever— she wanted this feeling to last forever.

“Yes. Of course, Robb”.

Come morning, they spent the entire day together, including the night. The next day was the same. Daenerys had granted Robb and his men a longer stay as there was much to discuss. It was late in the morning that he and Y/N were walking along the shores, discussing the most random of topics. Both were making a great effort to make the other one laugh: sprouting different jokes and funny stories. They both loved hearing the sound of laughter coming out of each another’s mouths. A gentle breeze roamed the air, blowing through Y/Ns’ dark hair. Robb stood silently still, stuck in a daze and awestruck by her appearance. Swiftly, he removed his fur cloak and placed it upon her exposed shoulders. Robb gestured to the area around them as Y/N looked at him in confusion, “I thought you might be cold”. She let out a small chuckle, shaking her head but not returning his cloak back. It provided her with a sense of ease. “No,” she confessed, “I don’t run cold that easily”. Resuming their walk, Robb gave her a look of admiration, “You would do great in the North then. Have you ever been there?”.

She answered with a clear no, stopping in her path to match Robb’s sudden cease of movement. Slowly, he placed his hands upon the cloak, further wrapping it securely around her. “I believe you would love it there. Maybe one day, you can come with me to Winterfell. I would love to give you a tour and introduce you to my mother, and hopefully my sisters too. I’m sure they would love you”. No further sounds were made; the distant sound of crashing waves serving as the only soundtrack to their wordless communion. Y/N leaned slightly into him — his closeness felt like a forbidden sanctuary, a place where she found solace and belonging but knew she shouldn’t enter. Y/N only response was a gentle nod and smile.

Many heart-fluttering moments continued to happen between the two. Stolen glances from across the table, hands brushing as they took their walks, laughter and smiles shared in the dark of night. There was an occurrence in the library when Robb had urged the girl to go to bed; taking notice of her eyebags forming from their long night of talking. “I can’t go to sleep that easily. And even if I can, I just have bad dreams I can’t wake up from”, she disclosed. They sat intimately close, sharing an intense gaze, both their features illuminated by the light of the candles in the room. Y/N could see every detail, every pore, every small scar that graced his beautiful face. She was caught by surprise, her breath hitching when he gently grabbed her hand, drawing small patterns into it.

“You can sleep here if you wish. I will watch over you and wake you at any sign of discomfort”. She wanted to decline, but there was something in his eyes that was persuading her. Y/N then found herself in his warm embrace, laying her head gently on his chest. She could hear every breath he took, every beat his heart made. Sealing her eyelids, he was the sole occupant of her dreams. She had never slept better.

Daenerys was no fool to what was happening before her very eyes. Sharing a private dinner with her sister, she brought up the topic.

“So, you and the Northern have been spending some time together”. Y/N nodded; not being able to lie since there was clear evidence in front of Daenerys. “He is a good man,” she smiled, “Very kind to his men, to his wolf”, she smiled even further at the memory of Robb introducing her properly to Grey Wind. She could still hear his laughter and the concern that replaced it when Grey Wind had tackled her to the ground with wet kisses. “We don’t want to get that pretty face all slobbered up now, do we?” fondness had colored his expression as he helped her back up. The smile upon her face slipped away, a frown and more serious look taking over.

“He’s very kind to me…I don’t think I will be spending much time with him anymore though”, she held her fork tightly in her hand. Daenerys questioned what she meant by her words. “Personal reasons”, Y/N said in a somber tone, “He will be leaving soon, and I plan to stay by your side”. Daenerys nodded her head, a part of her knowing that Y/Ns’ excuse was not the full truth. It’s not an exaggeration— Daenerys wasn’t a fool. She was well aware of Y/N’s standoffish attitude; practically a hermit as she kept to herself, or Daenerys. She saw the reasoning behind it— having an understanding of her past hardships. Additionally, Daenerys once tried to comfort Y/N during a nightmare of hers, hearing the word “curse” coming out of her mouth every few seconds. She badly wanted to comfort her sister, let her know that she was not cursed— life was just not fair to everyone. Daenerys, however, said nothing. Y/N was the only family she had left, and she did not want to lose her so soon, especially to some man. Forcing a smile upon her face, Daenerys tried to hide the distaste she felt towards her own selfishness. “That is good. Family must stick together”.

As the hours slipped away, Y/N and Robb were spending their last night together in the library. Robb and his men were set to leave tomorrow— all discussions and plans made with Daenerys were finalized. Robb, sitting across the room, was enamored as Y/N read to him out loud. It was a couple nights ago that they created this little routine; Y/N would read to him, and he would give his input at certain scenes. Right now, however, he was not paying attention to what was happening in the story. He was trying to memorize her gentle sweet voice, the way her lips moved with each syllable she said. Finishing a passage, Y/N put the book down to ask Robb his view.

“I can not lie to you. I was not paying attention”. Mouth agape, she pretended to be upset, throwing the small pillow she had next to her. Robb caught the cushion, letting out a hearty laugh that rumbled deep within his chest. Standing up, he walked across the room to her, placing the pillow behind her back. He knew she liked to read in comfort. Y/Ns’ smile was warm, spreading even more across her face at the words Robb spoke next, “You have a pretty voice”. Shyly looking down, she quietly thanked him. Robb’s compliments towards her only continued, “And a beautiful face”.

Biting her lip, she was readying herself to change the topic, but he only continued more. “I remember when I saw you for the first time”, he sat down beside her, sharing body warmth now, “I truly thought I had never seen a more beautiful woman before in my life”. Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes softly and replying in a joking matter “And then you saw my sister and I was the second most beautiful woman you had seen in your life”. Her heart quickened up when she looked up at him, no humor present on his face, only showing seriousness. “No”, he whispered, “you were still the most captivating and breathtaking beauty I’d seen”. Silence filled the room. Without a word, he reached out, his fingers interlacing with hers. “I leave tomorrow”, he spoke of the one thing they both had refused to acknowledge. “That you are”, Y/N said, her main focus placed upon their hands. Drawing small comforting circles into her skin, he asked her what she had planned for her future.

“My future is a mystery”, Y/N sighed heavily, “Regardless, I will continue to stand by Daenerys and be with her when she retakes the throne. She told me that she was going to bestow the Targaryen name upon me, but I’m not sure that is what I want”. Confusion etched Robbs’ features, questioning her meaning. Her face gave away a gloomy look, “I have never really been fond of my Targaryen blood. Daenerys is the only good thing that has come out of it”, she said truthfully, “I’ve gone long enough without a household name, so I don’t see the point in having one”. A smile graced her lips as she looked at him, “I won’t lie, it is a small yearn of mine. To belong somewhere and become a part of something special”.

A pregnant pause filled the room. The only sound being heard was the burning of the fireplace. Y/Ns’ laughter echoed through the room; Robbs’ next statement finding humor within her.

“You can become a Stark”.

Shaking her head, almost wanting to wipe the imaginary tears in her eyes, she continued her fits of giggles. “And how can I do that- “

Robbs’ next sentence caused all laughter within her to cease, her breath getting stuck in her chest. “By marrying me”, he said.

Another pregnant pause. Y/N stared at him in shock, becoming a stuttering mess, “R-Robb, I…”. Before she could finish, he cut her off, taking both her hands into his now, “I plead that you allow me to speak first”, he smiled but looked ready to cry, “I have never felt the way I have when I am with you. You truly have stolen my heart, and I don’t plan on asking for it back. Come with me to Winterfell— become my wife, my queen”. With affection, he raised her hand and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on it, “Grant me the wish to spend the rest of my life with you”. Robb had poured his emotions out into his speech, mistakenly only imagining what he wanted her reply to be. He was not prepared for what Y/N said next.

“No.”

Furrowing his eyes, he dropped one of her hands but still held the other. Shaking his head, he began to apologize profoundly, “I-I’m sorry. I thought maybe there was something between us. Did I ask too soon?”, he looked desperate in front of her, “I can take back the proposal. I can court you properly if that is what you wish – “

“No. No, Robb”, Y/N let her hand drop from his, both now becoming colder by the second, “I can’t marry you”.

The tension crackled in the air as Y/N words hung between them, heavy and unresolved. The room felt suffocating, each second stretching into an eternity. Robb’s jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the ground, struggling to contain his emotions and appear unaffected, “Can I ask why?”. Y/N bit her lip, her own emotions consuming her, never wanting more than to cry. “Robb,” she sobbed, “marrying me— being with me would only bring you hell”. Shaking his head, Robb grabbed ahold of her face, staring into her eyes, “What nonsense do you speak of? That can be far from the truth”. Y/N wanted to push his hands off her but was brought warmth by his touch, “But it’s the truth. My presence alone carries a curse. All those I have cherished have been harmed and taken from me”, he delicately removed the tears that were dropping from her eyes, “I’m not supposed to fall in love with you”.

Robb didn’t know what to say, how exactly to comfort her. His only reply being, “there is no such thing as a curse”, which angered her to some extent. Standing abruptly, she screamed out in sorrow, “Yes there is! My mother, my first love, my home— everyone suffered because of me!”, she started hyperventilating, burying her face in her hands, sobs echoing through the room, “You have suffered enough Robb. I do not wish to cause you more misery”. Robb sprang up quickly and encircled her with an arm, drawing her in for a reassuring embrace. As she cried, he felt her body quiver against his chest. He rubbed her back in gentle circles, giving her a feeling of comfort and safety. “Shhh…”, he tried soothing her, “Even if there is a curse, I won’t let it get to me, or you. I will protect you with entire life; you will never be subjected to such pain”, he leaned down and placed a tender kiss on her head, “I can’t let you go— living out the rest of my life thinking “what if?”.

Shaking her head, she gently pushed him away, “No, Robb”. Y/N stared at him, her eyes reflecting her inner sadness, “This is for my protection and yours. I would not have the strength in me to live if something happened to you”. Walking swiftly towards the door, she ceased her movements when Robb called out to her.

“Y/N. You deserve better”, he spoke truthfully and with sorrow, “You can’t live like this. Someone as extraordinary as you deserves to be happy. To be loved”.

She gripped the door handle, almost hurting her own hand from the pressure. Turning her head, she offered him a pained smile, “Maybe you’re right”, she opened the door, “But such fine things were not made for me in this lifetime”. And she was gone.

Y/N was unable to sleep the rest of the night, tossing and turning in her bed. Come morning, she mentally prepared herself for a conversation she knew she had to make. Standing in front of the chamber rooms Robb occupied, she knocked. A few seconds later, he opened the door, clear surprise on his face at her presence.

“Hi”, she spoke softly. Robb did not verbally reply to her greeting; opting to nod to her instead. “May I come in?”, she asked, and Robb moved to the side to allow her to enter. Looking at him, his tunic was unlaced— a clear indication she had interrupted him in the middle of dressing up. Y/N was informed that Robb and his men were to leave early morning; all they had to do was suit up and prepare their ships, and then he would be gone.

Facing him entirely, she gestured to his packed supplies in the corner, “I came to wish you a safe journey. I enjoyed our time together”. Robb registered her words, taking a deep breath, “Thank you, my lady”. She didn’t have the strength to correct him. All the while, Robb was struggling to tie up the last laces of his tunic. His hands were shaking. Walking slowly to him, she reached for his hands, moving them away to replace them with hers, “Allow me”.  Robb felt a fire ignite inside him as her gentle touch sent a chill down his spine. Focused on her work, Y/N laced up the complex pattern, her breath quickening as her fingertips touched his bare chest. Finishing up the last lace, she patted his chest and smiled up at him, “There. All done”. She only took one step back before Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing her back to him. Y/N gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. Slowly and hesitantly, she placed her hand upon his cheek, caressing him. Stretching her neck, she placed a small kiss on his lips, pulling away in mere seconds before either of them could comprehend it. Robb did the same; the two now sharing their second kiss.

For a while, they stood in each other’s embrace in silence. Robb took the next step, closing the small distance and cupping her face in his hands. With a mixture of yearning and desire, she leaned into his touch, gazing up at him as her heart ached. Reaching down, he kissed her with longing and tenderness. Y/N reciprocated right away, moving her mouth with his to match his rhythm. This kiss was longer, both wanting to savor the moment a bit more. The kiss had started off slowly but quickly came alive as they both deepened it. Robb fingers wove into her hair, pulling her closer to him; despite being as physically close as possible. Y/Ns’ body felt on fire; Robb’s touch both gentle yet firm as he traced her body with his other hand. Gasping into his mouth, she was taken by surprise (but did not fight off) at Robb picking her up by the thighs— walking to the small table in his room and dropping her on it. Opening her legs widely, he stood between them, both breathing heavily as they’re lips continued pressing together. Y/N did not know what to do with her hands, moving them all across his body and landing upon his hair, tugging slightly at his roots. Robb was the same; still opting to trace his hands across her thighs and up her breasts— igniting a moan out of her moth that he swallowed with his. Both their lips parted slightly, allowing them to slip their tongues into each other’s.

The room was heating up by the second. The only sounds that could be heard were their muffled groans and heavy breathing. Parting away, Y/N went to work to unlace his tunic— undoing her work. There was some urgency in the way her hands moved, Robb staring at her, intoxicated by her face contoured in rapture. He went straight for her dress, moving the fabric down to expose her shoulders, planting kisses on her. Y/N let out a loud whimper; the feeling of Robb biting into her neck sending a jolt of pleasure and goosebumps over her body. Grabbing his jaw, she returned her attack on his lips; their kiss now getting sloppier by the second, teeth almost clashing against. Y/N was readying herself to further pull her dress down but was interfered by Robb pulling away. Almost desperate like, she chased his lips but was denied.

“No,” Robb spoke, almost sounding to be in pain. His breath was ragged, chest moving up and down and fist clenched to his side, “Not like this”. Y/Ns’ common sense returned, slightly embarrassed that her hunger for him had taken over her completely. She was thankful that Robb had the strength and respect to keep her virtue safe. A few moments passed and their breathing became stable once again. Y/N watched as Robb gazed down at her, his lips red and bruised. Taking a hold of her face in his hand, Robb placed his forehead against her, “I love you”. Y/N could do nothing but nod, wrapping her arms around his torso, “I know”.

He smiled sheepishly at her, caressing her cheek, “Write to me at least. Please. Write to me about anything…even if you have nothing to talk about. I will always send a reply back. I promise”.  She gave him a tight-lipped smile, kissing his hand lightly, “I’ll try”. Robb knew she was lying. As they held each other’s gaze, time appeared to stop and the outside world became less significant. With one last kiss to her temple, Robb picked up his belongings and went out the door.

Y/N waited a decent number of minutes to pass before she exited the room— making sure there were no prying eyes around. She was hurrying towards her own chambers; wanting to be alone and allowed let all her tears fall free. She didn’t make it far, stopping in her movements at the sound of someone calling her name.

“Y/N”, Daenerys called out at the end of the hallway. Approaching her, she offered her sister a happy smile, “I was looking all over for you. I came to see if you wanted to bid the North men a goodbye- “, Daenerys stopped talking momentarily. Her eyes taking in Y/N disheveled appearance, and the obvious love mark on her neck. “But I can see you must’ve already given your farewell to the King in the North”, she teased.

Y/N nodding, staring down at the ground with her hands picking at the skin around her nails, “Yes, I have. So, I have no need to bid them a further goodbye. If you excuse me, I will retire for the day”. She was barley able to turn her body around before Daenerys grabbed hold of her forearm. “Hold on”, Daenerys said letting out a low chuckle, “It is still early morning. Why would you retire so soon- “. Her amusement dwindled into silence, fully grasping the emotions displayed on her little sisters’ face. “What’s wrong? What happened?”, she inquired anxiously and hastily, “Did that Stark boy do something to you?”, now anger appearing in her voice. Y/N was quick to deny her accusations, “No. He did nothing. It’s what I’ve done to him”. The queen placed a comforting embrace around her sisters’ figure, soothing her hair. “He offered me a marriage proposal, Dany” she sobbed into her shoulders, “And I told him no. I broke his heart”. Daenerys said nothing to the information given to her.  A short interval of silence ensured; disrupted by Daenerys taking in a deep breath.

“Do you love him?”.

She hadn’t expected such a direct question from Daenerys, especially about something she had been trying to conceal. Y/N hesitated for a moment— deciding there was no use in denying it, “I do”.

The older sister pulled away, smiling down lovingly at her, “Then why not go be with him?”. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, stumbling over her words, “Because I promised to stick by your side. To help you,” she defended. Staring back at the floor, Y/N inhaled deeply, “Because I am cursed- “

“That is a load of shit”, Daenerys cut in. Y/N gaped at her older sister in disbelief for her vulgar language directed at her. Daenerys persisted with her speech, “You are not cursed, Y/N. Our history might show that our ancestors without the inherited Targaryen traits suffered greatly, but that does not mean all of them will”. Putting both hands on her shoulder, she reassured Y/N, “I know that in their lives they were still able to experience contentment and love. And you should too”.

Whispering softly, Daenerys hold on her sister tightened, “You've gone through a lot, and life has made it difficult to look past your own suffering, I won't deny that. But you need not forget the positive impact that you have on others around you. You undoubtedly brought happiness and love into the lives of your mother as well as those from your pas, and me toot. I'm even more positive that you introduced that into Robb Starks' life as well”.

Daenerys took a moment to recover after her extended address; watching Y/N register every world she spoke. Placing a gentle hand on her face, Daenerys gave her final say, “So, why not go be with him?”.

Y/N expression mirrored her surprise at what she heard. Shaking her head, she repudiated, “B-But what about you? My promise to you- “. She was cut off once again. “I’ve been thinking it over”, Daenerys began, “And I’ve asked too much from you. You are my only family and I wish to keep you by me, but your life is not mine. You control it”. Y/N held her breath, a small tear forming in her eyes. A sense of déjà vu had come to her— those were similar words her own mother had told her. Daenerys smiled widely at her, taking both her hands into her own, “If I am to be a good queen and rule with fairness”, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, “I should let you live your life. As your queen, I give you the order to go live a life of happiness with the man you love”. She sustained the cheerful curve of her lips, “Go to him— go be with him in the North. A change of scenery can be good, don’t you think?”.

Y/N didn’t answer her question; instead, she sprang and encircled her sister in a warm hug. “Thank you, Dany,”, she expressed her heartfelt thanks. Daenerys words had opened her eyes; Y/N was not brought into this world to fear it— she was brought in it to appreciate its gifts. The gifts being family, happiness, and love. Daenerys suppressed a laugh that wanted to escape her lips. Pushing the girl slightly, she encouraged her further, “Now go and tell him. Rhaegal will be sad but he’ll live”. Y/N was quick to turn and follow after Robb, but stopped abruptly at Daenerys calling out to her.

“Don’t marry him too soon”. Panic coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought that Daenerys was taking back what she said. The older sister waved her hand, shooing the girl away, “I just meant that I wish to be present at the wedding. Now, go”.

Robb stood beside a couple of his men and advisor at Dragonstone’s port. He watched his men load up the ships, trying to listen to what his advisor was saying but his mind was elsewhere. He came here to acquire the Dragon Queen as his ally— and now he leaves with that success and a broken heart. He traced back the memory of their times together, the warmth of her hands completely enclosing his, the way her eyes sparkled with every grin. A longing buried deep in his chest arose with every thought of Y/N. It was a bittersweet anguish. His advisor next to him cleared his throat, grabbing his attention when he nudged Robbs’ side, “Your grace”. Following the direction of his advisor’s eyesight, his own landed on Y/N— clearly out of breath and showing urgency.

“Y/N”, he called out. Robb was quick to grab ahold of her forearms, inspecting her body for any signs of injury, “Are you okay? Is there something wrong?” he asked, concern shown deep in his eyes. Y/N nodded her head, calming down her breathing as she watched his men leave to give them privacy. Staring up at him, she confessed, “I will not write to you”. Robbs’ brows drew together in a frown, feeling as though she was taking a jab at his sorrows. A normal reaction would be to spit fire back, but he was too in love with her.

Swallowing thickly, he responded, “I figured that already- “

“No, let me finish” she interrupted him, “I will not write to you…because I am coming with you”. His eyes widened in disbelief at the statement— not given time to properly respond once again. Swallowing the lump in her throat, her palms grw clammy, “Robb…I love you”. At last, he managed to respond, "You do?" with a tone that hinted at both surprise and joy. Y/N nodded, vulnerability showing in the blush of her cheeks and grabbing a hold of his hand, “Yes. I should’ve told you from the start and I should’ve said yes to your proposal- “, she sucked in a trembling breath, “I care about you deeply and I’ve never felt this much love for anyone”. Y/Ns’ heart raced as her words lingered in the crisp morning air. With a subtle shake of her head, she redirected the conversation. “Though I’ve come to see the foolishness in it; I still don’t know if my curse is real or not. All I know is that I wish to spend every minute— every second of my life with you”. Biting her lip gently, she broke eye contact with him, “It is a big risk, I kno- “.

“A risk I am willing to take”, Robb finally cut her off, “I would do anything for you.” In their moment of confession, they wrapped each other in a tight embrace. With their foreheads resting against each other's, a warm yet hesitant smile spread across Y/N face. “So,” she spoke shyly, “is that tour of Winterfell still up for grabs?”

Robb reciprocated her smile with his own, gently lifting his hands to touch her bottom lip. “Yes. It still is” he breathed out, “And my proposal too”. With a gentle tilt of her head, Y/N moved in closer, “Then I say you take me to Winterfell and make me your wife”. Their lips meet in a tender and heartfelt kiss— all their troubles now resolved. A quiet vow of eternity was spoken as their lips moved in rhythm. A familiar roar was heard; Y/N breaking the kiss and laughing as she took notice of Rhaegal in the sky. Robb found himself smiling even more at the sight of her joy; pulling her closer to him.

A cheeky grin formed across her face, “I think Lady of Winterfell has a nice ring to it, don’t you?”

Robb chuckled, caressing her face, “I think Queen of Winterfell sounds nicer. I also think the title of “Robb Starks’ Wife” suits you even more”. Y/N jokingly jabbed her elbow into his side, slightly squeaking as Robb reclaimed her lips in his. They both were filled with excitement and anticipation for what their future together awaited.

#robb stark #game of thrones #robb stark fanfic #robb stark x reader #robb stark x y/n #robb stark x you #robb stark oneshot #richard madden #robb stark imagine #got x reader #got scenario #got imagines #asoiaf #robb stark x targaryen!reader #robb stark x fem!reader

[queenie-avenue]

There's no solution for whatever this was.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

—> when you come crashing into his life, his focus for his studies are lost.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader's race is not mentioned but it does take place in korea, stalking, obsession, slightly suggestive, possessiveness, stealing, damage to personal, slightly suggestive, property, encouraging suicide, mentions of academic stress and korea's expectation for its students, inspired by @moyazaika 's academic rival yandere (go check the fic out, it's amazing), a drabble for now but I will be posting longer fics of him

🦋 ⤻ archives.

In Korea, students are shown to be almost always studying. Many news outlets have covered multiple schools and how much pressure Korean students are going through with their studies. It's difficult, no one can deny it. Yet, some of these students just find it normal, they view studying as perhaps their only form of control they have in their world.

One of those such students is Seo Min-Jun, a student belonging to a prestigious private high school. Someone who is in his final year of high school, soon to graduate and take his university exams. Top of his class, the son to a minister in Korea's government and a rather popular film actress, and the president of the student council. He was destined for success once he graduated.

The moment he crawled out of his mother's womb, his fate was paved for him in gold.

That was, until you — the sweet scholarship student — showed up.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

At first, he didn't understand you. Both of you were literally in your last year of school, but you waltzed in like you owned the place. At least, from his perspective. He thought you bland. After all, you got in from a scholarship. You may be smart, but were you as rich, or was your status in society as high as him? It didn't matter, he still viewed you as below him and didn't pay much attention to you, relegating his secretary in the student council to give you a tour of the elite private school that you should honestly be honoured to step your grimy shoes all over.

Sure, he'd never say these things out to you or anyone else in public. After all, he was still a model student, and he was taught to act humble. Key word: act.

He honestly didn't take an interest in you till he saw your name, above his, on the monthly test evaluations.

"What?" He muttered out, not believing his eyes. In almost every damn subject, you managed to score higher than him. He was almost always one mark off from you. His eyes shot to you, the you who stood there in your crisp and cut uniform on the other side of the crowd, looking up at the papers pressed onto the walls with a look of pride. What was that look of pride for?

Pride, something that existed strongly in almost every culture, and you had just ruined his.

Your life was never the same afterwards.

Letters of hatred piled in your shoe locker. They ranged from being written like some crazed man worshipping your feet like you were a god to someone who wanted to see you hop off the building of your school. The handwriting was typically crazed, but you could recognise whose handwriting it was solely because the both of you were in the same class.

As usual, the school board did nothing to help with that. And when you tried to accuse Min-Jun, the teachers especially scolded you for attempting to defame the student council president.

It got so bad that your things were going missing too, your homework — which the teachers unreasonably scolded you for even if you were user sure you placed it in your bag this morning — and then your notes too. Technically, they did return. They just returned torn up, and some were even burnt with mysterious stains on them.

One day, you couldn't take it anymore after receiving a death threat, and you stormed to the student council office, knowing that if you went to the general office, they'd turn you away again.

You would take matters into your own hands.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

When Min-Jun first saw you enter the room, he was left breathless. Your blushed cheeks from running all the way here, no doubt, the way your uniform crumpled, his mouth was almost drooling. No, no. He refused to let himself lust over you in such a manner that you were a rival, for goodness sake! Not some... potential love interest. Though that thought did pique his interest but he pushed it down with any other thoughts he had about his rival.

"I can't take it anymore." You said, which shocked him. Was someone bullying you? Only he could do that! "I know it's you. I've seen your handwriting on tests before, I just know you're the one who's been planting those notes and stealing my things." You accused your one-sided academic rival.

He didn't bother to defend himself. What was the point? His family would protect him, the school would protect him, and most importantly, the student body would rip them to shreds if they ever tried to act out against him. He knew how cruel students could be. After all, he had seen all the outcasts almost drowned inside toilet bowls by bullies multiple times.

He could not have that. Having you tortured would mean he would not be able to have a proper rival. As much as he disliked you for being in his way, he preferred to keep things... somewhat fair.

"And your proof?" He inquired.

"I have all those notes stored in my bag." You hissed.

For some reason, the thought of you keeping those notes made his heart beat faster. Were you a freak like him too? Did you have such sinful thoughts just like him? You broke his twisted fantasy with your next words, though.

"I don't understand why you're doing this to me. It's- it's," you struggled to find a word for his disturbing actions, "ceaselessly cruel!" You finally exclaimed.

Cruel? What was cruel were your actions, driving him mad, making him lose focus on his work. Who were you to call him cruel when you made him like this?

He got up from his seat and approached you, causing you to fall back, landing on the couch that you swore was not there when the entered the student council room. Taking this chance, he pinned you against the seat, taking in every part of your body, your face, your eyes... everything. God, you were so perfect but so infuriating. Just why did you have to confront him?

"Are you that fucking naive to think that when you present the school with your proof, they'll do anything about it for you? That they'll go against me and my family for the sake of defending the poor scholarship student?" He hissed, grabbing your face harshly as you whimpered. He wished the circumstances of your whimpers were different; in his bed rather than on the couch of the student council office. Still, that did breed intriguing fantasies into his mind. "You think they'll do that for you?" He repeated.

"I-" you started, but you had no idea how to end.

"Exactly." He let go of you, almost smacking your head to the other side as he straightened himself, readjusting the blazer of his uniform.

"You should get used to the circumstances of your situation." He said which only made you shudder. "Let yourself out." He said cooly as he exited the student council room, "I trust you'll keep this meeting a secret." He said with an air of finality before sauntering casually towards the male bathrooms where he promptly slammed the door shut and sat on the toilet seat, practically fuming.

That look on your face, the scrunch of your nose, the furrowing of your eyebrows. You were so unfair! He could practically feel all his blood flush downwards as he thought of you.

Now that you knew he was the culprit, what would you do?

It didn't matter.

He would find ways to pester you and find ways to mark you as someone who could not be touched by anyone else other than him.

"I left another note in your bag. You should look at it. Or else."

#male yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere academic rival #yandere

[lazyjellyfish300]

The Stuffed Rabbit🐇💌💕

Miguel O'Hara x AFAB Reader s/o

Happy Valentine's Day, Miguel Nation! 🌹💌

Synopsis: One of my Valentine's Day specials. The other one is posted now too. Woot woot! Bringing you and Miguel back from the same universe as In a Vial Around Your Pretty Little Neck. It's your second Valentine's Day together. And all you want is to go to Build A Bear. You plan an emotional surprise for him too that you hope he'll love. The quote: "Grief is love with nowhere to go," by Jamie Anderson helped inspire this. Word count: 2.7k

TW: Minors DNI since this one has suggestive content(but no smut), little angst, grief, other than that just Valentine's fluff.

-----

"Tienes demasiados peluches, mi vida." (You have too many stuffed animals, my life.) Miguel smirks at you as he stands in your kitchen, loading the Keurig with his cup of Joe for the morning.

"Well, I need more." You say firmly, crossing your arms.

Miguel shakes his head. "The fact that they take up nearly the entire new shelf I bought you is crazy on its own. You sure you don't want a fancy dinner, maybe a little vacation, just you and I? Movie? Some earrings?" He tickles your earlobe and you swat him away playfully.

"No way. Build-a-Bear or bust."

Miguel smiles, won over by your persistence. "Well, it seems I don't stand a chance against you this time." He sighs and pours the steaming coffee into a mug, blowing on the hot drink lightly. "I'll take you to Build-A-Bear, if I can choose the restaurant we go to afterwards?"

You press your fingertips together like a villain making a deal.

"Very well, O'Hara. You drive a hard bargain, but alas, I shall concede this time and let you have jurisdiction over our choice of dining."

Miguel shakes his head. "I'll do without the theatrics."

You walk up to him, craning your neck to look up at him and lean forward into his chest with both hands on either side of his waist. "Let me be dramatic in peace. You know I can't stand surprises when it comes to food."

Miguel sets his mug down and holds your face in his hands. "Are my restaurant picks really that terrible?"

You suck your cheeks in like a guppy and Miguel leans in to give you a little peck. "Nah. But preferably not Subway again."

Miguel's face curls into a smirk and he tickles your sides which you start giggling in response, trying to to push him off. "Thought you wanted to go to the place where they 'make the food in front of you'?" he says teasingly.

"Stahhhppp it!! I- *giggles* I-I meant teppanyaki, genius! Not freakin Subway."

Miguel starts kissing your cheeks, alternating between each one, causing your stomach to flutter.

"My apologies, baby...you're right, I'll make sure to pick somewhere extra special this time."

His hands slip under your shirt, making you get a little weak and your eyes droop.

"Mmm-promise...?"

He gives you a soft lingering kiss, and mumbles quietly against your lips, "Te lo prometo, cariño." (I promise you, dear)

-----

Your plan worked. Now you just had to get some help from Lyla. You wanted your own stuffed animal for Valentine's Day of course, but you wanted something extra special made for Miguel that you could give him at dinner, too.

You stood in front of Miguel's desk with Lyla, drumming your fingers anxiously as she was trying to download and email the file you were needing for his present before he returned from his lunch break.

"How much longer, Lyla?...." You asked, trying to keep the impatience in your tone in check.

"Almost there, almost there....." Lyla chided, jumping from one end of the holographic screen to the other. "Annnnnnd.....okay I sent it! He's gonna cry when he sees it dude, I hope you're ready."

You smile and then jump when you hear Miguel's voice. "Ready for what? And what are you doing here in the middle of the day?"

You whirl around and Lyla dissipates, trying play it off like both of you weren't up to anything.

"Nothing! Lyla was just saying uhm...she was just making sure I'm ready for tomorrow because apparently you chose a really fancy place for dinner this time." You grin, your heart racing in your chest.

Miguel gives you a suspicious look, but it turns into a smile as he scoops you up, planting you on his desk with your legs on either side of him. He gives your thighs a little squeeze and looks at the screens behind you as though he didn't buy your excuse entirely. "Hmmm...I did choose a fancy place for dinner tomorrow. I just hope Lyla didn't spoil it already..."

Lyla regenerates next to Miguel's ear. "Secret's still secure, boss!"

You nod, backing her up. "Honestly, she didn't tell me anything. Even though I was begging."

Miguel smiles and presses his forehead against yours. "Someone's impatient."

"I'm just excited! That's all..." You lean in , putting your hands on Miguel's shoulders and he helps hoist you back down.

He nods. "Trust me, you'll love it. But, dare I ask what you and Lyla were actually up to before I walked in?" He gives you a little smirk as he moves past you, setting up his workstation once again.

You quickly avert your gaze, doing your best to shield your true intentions. "Um...well, maybe there is gonna be a little surprise for you tomorrow too." You look up at him and he has a warm smile on his face.

"Really? Surprise f'me, hmm?" He pulls you back in by your hips.

You smile and rest your hands on his shoulders. "Yep. But key word: surprise. So you won't get to find out until tomorrow."

Miguel nods and ruffles your hair. "Very well, as you wish, ma'am." He calls out to you as you head for the exit. "I'm gonna try and guess what it is all day now!"

You turn your head and shoot one last teasing smile his way, "Love you baby!"

"Yo también te amo."(I love you too)

------

Next day, Valentine's Day

You and Miguel walk arm in arm into Build a Bear. You smile giddily and run up to the bins with all the different animals to choose from. Miguel smiles and stays a few paces behind you. He sees a cute couple with their little daughter and it pulls at his heart strings a bit. He looks around the little shop at the other families, and little kids running around and it creates a lump in his throat. He was afraid of this happening today. Valentine's Day and any other holidays would always end up reminding him of his sweet little girl every time going forward. It was bittersweet in its own way.

You were like a shower of rain upon the aching desolate plains of his heart, bringing with you a special happiness he never thought he'd be able to feel again. He fiddled with the ring on his pinky that held your blood in it as he watched you.

One of these days he wouldn't keep you waiting any longer.

He's ripped out of his thoughts when you call for him.

"Baby, I'm having a hard time choosing which one I want."

Miguel walks over to you where you have a yak in one hand and a red teddy bear in the other.

"Get em both." Miguel says, kissing your forehead.

"But..." You start to protest but Miguel shakes his head, already escorting you to the line in front of the stuffing station. "Thank you so much baby. You spoil me."

Miguel chuckles and says with a small wink. "Well, it's Valentine's Day...but don't expect this to be a regular occurrence."

You smile mischievously, "Oh, well in that case I'm going to milk this opportunity for as long as I can."

Miguel wraps his arm around you and sighs. His wallet may be on fire by the end of the night but anything for his valentine.

He watches you with a tender expression as you scrunch your nose slightly and close your eyes when you make a wish and kiss the small red plush hearts that go inside both stuffed animals. The employee takes them with a smile and hums as she stuffs both of them for you.

Miguel watched, fascinated by the machine as the stuffing churns and gently brings each animal to life.

"Alright, honey, give both of those a hug for me and make sure they're stuffed just right."

You hand Miguel the red teddy. "Can you make sure he has enough stuffing, babe?"

Miguel looks a little bewildered at first but gives the teddy an awkward little squeeze. "Umm,...he feels soft enough to me, I guess. Maybe he could use a rounder belly?" He points out the bear's small pouch.

The employee smiles, "Good call!" She stuffs the red teddy a little bit more and hands it back to Miguel. "How's that?"

Miguel gives the red teddy a fresh squeeze, his belly a little bit more full and firm now. "Perfect." He hands him back to you and you take it with a smile.

"Thanks, baby!"

Miguel's watch goes off with an incoming call from Lyla. "Perdóname..."(forgive me) You nod and give him a reassuring smile and watch him walk outside to take it, unaware that you and Lyla orchestrated the distraction.

Perfect. Everything was going to plan. You walked back to the bins and scanned them looking for the perfect one. You chose a tan, fuzzy rabbit with droopy pink ears and handed it to the employee. "Can I get this one too, please?"

-----

Later, you and Miguel are walking to his car with three cardboard stuffed animal carriers. "Can you carry this one baby?"

The corner of Miguel's mouth raises. "Got yourself an extra one?"

You smile. "Nah I got that one for you! But you can't look at it until we get to the restaurant. It's your big surprise."

Miguel smiles and looks at the box curiously. He wasn't used to receiving little presents and surprises like this until you came along. He felt a warm fuzzy feeling in his veins as he looked back at you. "You shouldn't have."

You smile and kiss the back of his hand you're holding. "Course I should have. You're my valentine."

Miguel gives you an affectionate smile in response and you two drive to the restaurant, a gentle flurry of snowflakes begins to dust the rooftops of Nueva York as the daylight wanes.

----

Your hands start to get clammy as Miguel leads you into the mystery restaurant, eyes closed. You hear the familiar restaurant clatter and rush of the indoor environment, then you feel the chilliness of the outside again, then quiet and warmth greets you in an unfamiliar, new setting.

"Abre los ojos, muñeca..." (Open your eyes, doll)

You look and your breath catches in your throat at the sight around you. Miguel reserved a clear, outdoor igloo on the rooftop of one of Nueva York's finest restaurants. The night was turning an imperial blue now, the light now scarce with grey clouds smearing the corners of the sky except where the snowflakes were falling through.

Source: Pinterest, from this online article.

Twinkle lights adorned the inside and outside of the igloo, creating a whimsical feel with tall outdoor heaters supplying warmth. There was an inviting couch with several decorative pillows and blankets adorning it. A sleek table sat in the front of it complete with soft glowing candles, antipasto on a wooden plank, and two wine glasses.

Your heart melted almost as quickly as the tears rushed to the corners of your eyes as you stood on tiptoe to give Miguel a kiss of gratitude.

You felt him smile against your lips. "You like it?..."

"Baby, I love it. Thank you so, so much..."

Miguel sits you down and you both get cozy underneath one of the blankets, lifting up your wine glasses to toast the evening.

"To you....let tonight become another sweet memory we can look back on together," he says.

You smile in agreement. "And here's to my ring finger not staying vacant for much longer."

Miguel chuckles as you click glasses. "It won't, baby, I promise you that..."

You feel your heart pound in your chest at the words he spoke combined with what you know is coming next. You turn and pick up the cardboard carrier, presenting it to him. "Time for your surprise, babe..."

Miguel grins and takes the cardboard box from you. He jokingly shakes it as though a feral animal were really inside, then cracks it open.

You giggle, then bring your hands to your lips in anticipation.

Miguel's eyes widen as he finds the tan, fuzzy stuffed rabbit with floppy ears, then his lips fall open as he takes it out.

The rabbit is dressed in a little blue soccer uniform and has a little red bow on one of its ears. Miguel's heart freezes in his chest at the familiar realization. He looks at you with surprise. "Baby...is this..?"

The tears have gotten to you already. You nod, trying to speak through the lump in your throat. "Press its paw..."

Miguel presses the rabbit's paw.

His favorite voice in the world...one that he hadn't heard in such a long time...the one that brought him so much happiness but also ached his soul. The sound that signified all his grief. His love with nowhere to go.

The voice of his little girl is heard... clear as day.

"Te amo y te extraño, papá. Eres el mejor padre del mundo. Besos de Gabi." (I love you and miss you, papa. You are the best father in the world. Kisses, from Gabi)

Miguel just sits there in awe, unable to speak. He presses the rabbit's paw again, as though to make sure he heard it correctly. Gabi's sweet voice speaks again, and he brings the rabbit to his chest, clutching it. Miguel is silent with his eyes closed, and then you notice his shoulders start to gently shake as his quiet sobs can't be contained anymore. He's just a loving father missing his baby girl.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my love..." You whisper, taking Miguel into your arms.

He lays his head against your chest, still clutching the rabbit, hot tears still running down his cheeks, unable to speak.

"Thank you..." He says at last in a hoarse whisper. "I miss her..."

You nod, his head still tucked in the crook of your neck. "I know, baby...I'm here...."

For the longest moment in time, it's just you two holding one another, the sweet rabbit sandwiched between your two hearts that surely can't contain the overwhelming adoration that has just blossomed and brought you two even closer together from this tender memory. No words are needed, but when he finally regains his strength, his brings his eyes to look at you, two sweet rubies glossy with a window of tears.

"I love you so much...you have no idea how precious this is to me..."

Your face melts, your own lovely eyes caked in emotional tears.

"I love you, sweetheart. You'll never know how much I do..."

Miguel shakes his head. "I have a pretty good idea...it's my love for you that you will never be able to comprehend, mi vida..."

You bring your lips closer and he greets them with his own. Warm and cozy, you two let the emotions of tonight speak for themselves in this soft gesture. Two souls in love in a little starlit igloo while the Valentine's Day snow carries on outside, the love between you two more than enough to keep you warm.

-----

Later, you two are chest to chest, your neck craned a little bit as you gaze up into those vermillion eyes, a love song accompanying your casual sways back and forth, fingers interlocked in a loving clasp.

The sweet stuffed rabbit, Gigi, sits among her two new friends, Yogurt, the Yak and Maraschino, the red teddy on your pillows which will be greeted by you and Miguel shortly.

Miguel drags his thumb along your bottom lip, pausing in the middle. His warm, sweet breath greets yours and you let him in, the caress of his tongue quickly making the kiss quite passionate as your lips move softly together.

You break apart, his eyes locked deliciously on you. Your chest rises in shaky, excited breaths as you feel his hands gently make their way to your clothed breasts.

Miguel notes your flustered reaction and smirks a bit. "Tired...?"

You flash him a little smile and press your forehead against his. "I can afford to lose another hour..."

A soft groan rumbles in his chest and he moves his hand to the back of your neck, skimming past the chain that holds the little vial with his blood over your delicate heart.

You feel the tiny vibration of your zipper buzz against your back as he drags it down.

Miguel whispers, "Let's make that two..."

-----

💌🥹💕

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #spotify #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o hara fluff #miguel ohara fluff #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x fem!reader #Spotify

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 13. cat fight (REAL)

(wc: 1.177)

opening the door to be met with haechan who had just exited his apartment too wasn’t exactly what you had expected. you were taken aback, finding the odds of it to be quite surprising before you remembered that it was haechan, who was also eyeing you for a few seconds.

without any other words, you walked past him, hearing his own footsteps follow quickly afterwards. your plan was to take the lift to the bottom floor so you didn’t have to walk down all the flights of stairs, yet your plan seemed to be put to an end quickly as you noticed the sign that read “out of service, please take the stairs” stuck onto the lift door. how great.

“how great.” haechan mumbled next to you, scaring you out of your spot. could he read your mind? you wondered so as he continued to give the lift door a frustrated glare, his hands placed on his hips. without any other words, he turned around and walked over to the staircase, leaving you in your spot.

“can you start walking already, you don’t wanna come there when it’s too late, do you?” haechan shot at you, taking the first few steps down the stairs. right, you forgot that you were not only dealing with haechan, but a potential threat (jaemin) and a lunatic (renjun) all the way downstairs. you heaved a sigh, following haechan down the stairs who had made little effort to wait for you as he continued to step down quickly.

you managed to catch up quickly to him, finding yourself walking right next to him in a similar pace. you cursed the staircase for being so narrow, as it gave you no choice but to be forced in close proximity with haechan, your arms regularly touching. you considered slowing down, but the image of jaemin having renjun in a potential chokehold wasn’t something you wanted to risk.

your steps continued down the stairs, the both of you ignoring the occasional touch your sides would make as it wasn’t your main concern at that moment. you had reached the last few steps of the stairs that lead to the ground floor, and your steps were starting to drag. with your feet almost losing its energy, you seemed to have missed the last step on the staircase, and slightly tumbled forward.

a hand instinctively reached out for your upper arm, gripping it somewhat tight. you hadn’t managed to fall luckily, as you were near the bottom anyways, but the grip was still tight. you looked back to see haechan’s quickly release his hold on you and you watched his hand move back to his side. it almost seemed like he was going to make a comment as his mouth opened for a split second, but he closed it back instead, deciding that whatever he was going to say wasn’t important.

“it’s my cat?! you can’t keep saying founders keepers when the cat already has a keeper!” the familiar sound of jaemin’s voice could be heard yelling from a distance and you broke into a quick jog before you finally made it the two of them. though, you didn’t have the chance to properly reach them, instead being blocked by another guy who seemed to panic before his eyes landed on both you and haechan in relief.

“hyuck, thank god you’re here. i just came and renjun doesn’t wanna listen. i’m scared that jaemin is going to hurt him.” yangyang continued to panic, hands gripping onto haechan’s shoulders as he dramatically shook him around. haechan stabilised himself by removing yangang’s hold of him and fixing his shirt again. “be calm, yangyang. just help me get renjun away from him while she takes jaemin with her.” haechan instructed before he gently pushed yangyang aside.

now, yangyang’s focus was on you, and he looked you up and down before a small smile grew on his face. “hi, you must be that new neighbour donghyuck was complaining about- oh i’m yangyang by the way. you know, i think i requested your twitter account but you’re not accepting me so i was wondering if you could like-”

“yangyang!” haechan called out warningly, and yangyang got the memo quick. giving you a quick last glance. he ran over to haechan who was trying to drag renjun away with him. you snapped out of your own position before running over to jaemin who was taking threatening steps towards renjun.

“come on jaem, it’s okay. you don’t want attempted murder on your cv, remember?” you tried to joke with a lighthearted laugh. jaemin had a deep frown etched on his face as he continued to glare renjun’s way. “what a bastard. trying to steal my cats from me.” jaemin gritted through his teeth. you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. “it’s okay, your cat belongs to you and no one else, don’t worry.”

looking back towards the other side of the hall, you noticed how haechan had managed to take ahold of the cat renjun had held before while yangyang kept renjun away. you took a step in front of jaemin to block any attempts at charging towards them. “you’re a fucking freak, renjun.” you yelled out, catching the attention of the three other boys. renjun seemed ready to argue back before haechan beat him to it. “watch that mouth (—).”

his eyebrow was raised in a challenging manner, almost like that time he left at the dinner. this time it was clear that he was challenging her to carry on. “watch out who you’re calling a freak, especially when you’re friends with jaemin.” haechan continued, and you scoffed. “that’s rich coming from you and your friends. all of you need to leave jaemin alone.” you retorted back.

haechan walked over towards you and jaemin, handing the cat back to jaemin before he took a step back and looked you up and down. “watch how you talk to me too, (—).” his finger had lifted up to point at you. the corner of his lip raised in amusement as he scoffed and walked past you with yangyang and renjun following suit.

“so” yangyang had stopped right in front of you as the other two had continued to walk. “let me in on your account? oh and also- you’re really cute so that’s that, and uh..”

“yangyang.” haechan warned him again while peeking his head from around the corner, pointing his finger back to instruct yangyang to go up the stairs. “right.” yangyang said before he gave you a hesitant wave and quickly jogged after his other friends.

“are you okay?” you asked the moment it had turned silent. jaemin’s heavy breathing was more notable now and you almost got worried for a second. “yeah.. i guess i should get a cage.. and a lock.” jaemin admitted sheepishly, smiling in defeat. you laughed, grabbing his arm before slightly tugging it. “come, i’ll take you to your room.” you offered him, and jaemin gladly followed you with luke slotted in his arms.

previous — master list — next

notes ; yangyang watch that mouth that’s haechan’s future gf 🤦🏽‍♀️

TAGLIST ; @90s-belladonna @pnkified @2jisungs @swee7dream @sinisxtea @en-dream @h-aecat @lostinneocity @sunflowerbebe07 @pookime @aerivrs @alethea-moon @yeritos @prettyrenjunn @manooffline @bath1lda @hyejooistic @emvrd @dojaejunging @odxrilove @hyuckluvr-com @jaeims @ihyucksol @tddyhyck @dalsosapple @https-yeonjun @luvlyrenwoo @yoursyuno @lilacsxjoon @heymsperfectlyfine @mystverse @ne0c0r3 @casperbutnot-theghost @hyuckies18 @w3bqrl @ckline35 @nosungluv @luvvsnae @chcnlcs @cryingforgyu @thatgirlkay @222brainrot @aggtslva @n0hyuck @sinsgaybutthatsokay @choerubies @goldustupmysea @cyber-innie @hyunjungjae @blamemef0rit @lowkeychenle @lecheugo

#haechan smau #nct smau #nct dream smau #nct 127 smau #haechan imagines #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct dream imagines #haechan x reader #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct dream x reader #haechan texts #nct texts #nct dream texts #haechan fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream social media au #haechan social media au #nct social media au #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream scenarios #haechan x you #nct x you #nct dream x you

[cutecinnamon]

Concurrence III

{ Concurrence III: "A Date" • Levi x Reader }

CW: ⊹₊ Pregnancy ⊹₊ This is honestly Fluff ⊹₊ A Date with Levi ⊹₊

:gif by pinterest

• 3.1k word count •

Note: Please read "Concurrence I and II" first since this is all a part of a series in order to avoid confusion for the story, you can check my Masterlist pinned at my profile for the links ♡

:Read Concurrence II here ♡

UPDATE: Concurrence IV is now up! ♡

:dividers by: @cafekitsune

Synopsis:

(y/n) started to experience having cravings, Levi decides to take her out on "A Date" since it was their rest day from their duties in the survey corps. At the end of the day, Levi gives her a small gift.

PART III

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You were greeted by colorful shops and mini stands consisting of various items and food.

The place was honestly peaceful, despite a lot of people walking and rumaging at certain product displays, compared to the scene of your comrades being barely alive after an expedition and the sight of crimson colored blood, which you already got used to that even haunted your dreams at night.

You were walking alongside the Captain, as he still kept the same expression on his face, but despite that you can't help but appreciate him taking you out since it was both your rest day from your duties at the survey corps,

You then remembered the reason why he took you here when you inhaled the aroma of grilled fish, topped with soy sauce as you both made your way to the little restaurant.

Your new found need of fulfilling your cravings.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You were then reminded of the events that happened a few hours prior to your so called "date" with the Captain.

You woke up feeling hungry, you were already around two months into your pregnancy.

By the time you got out of bed which was a bit late than usual given that it was both of your day off, you saw Levi reading a book while drinking his tea, he was currently sitting on his chair next to the round table,

To be honest, it was like his usual spot for drinking tea and reading a book, kind off like a relaxing area for him.

"Good Morning, Captain Levi." You greeted Levi, still a bit sluggish as you let out a small yawn.

"Morning Brat." He responded with his usual monotone voice, still not looking at you, his attention still at his book and tea.

After greeting him a simple "Good Morning", you then took a scrunchie tying your hair up into a messy bun, as you proceeded towards the sink to wash your face.

Afterwards, you went and took your sit at the round table, across Levi.

The Captain looks at you before he spoke,

"Aren't you going to eat? You do know its not advisable for a pregnant woman to just sit around with an empty stomach." He asked with a hint of strictness.

"Captain... there is honestly something I want to ask..." you hesitantly said while fidgeting with your fingers.

Levi noticed your body language and the way you were gently fidgeting with your fingers, making him notice you were somewhat nervous or hesitant to ask him for something.

Levi sighs before he spoke, "Do you need something Brat? And feel free to say so its not like I'd bite." He said, this time you noticed that he really did try his best to soften his tone a bit than the usual.

You look at him nervously again, contemplating.

Throughout your entire life, it was honestly the first time you felt a very strong urge to eat something specific that you're taste buds are screaming at you for.

You grew up fending for yourself, without really the luxury of getting everything you wanted so small cravings were something you got used to ignoring.

But this one was different, it was like your gut was screaming at you to go and get that specific meal you were craving for.

Damn this pregnancy cravings. You thought to yourself while looking at your Captain.

despite the nonchalant expression he had on his face, you can tell he was a bit concerned and his interest was perked to what you wanted to say.

"I... I don't want to burden you bu-" before you can finish your statement he cuts you off,

"How many times do I have to say and make you understand that you're not a burden?" Levi asked, you can tell that he was getting a bit annoyed despite his calm looking demanor.

You sighed, before deciding to speak up.

"I... I'm craving for something..." you mumbled quietly, almost inaudible making him frown a bit.

"Pardon?" Levi asked, you knew that he had a bit of temper issues and you can tell his patience was wearing thin but he tries.

"I'm craving..." you repeated, this time more audible.

Levi looks at you for a few seconds, before he responds.

Is this the so called "pregnancy cravings?"

You just nod, clearly still hesitant of even opening your thoughts about the meal you're craving for.

Levi sighs, closing his book and placing it down at the round table, he then empties his cup of tea as he proceeded to the sink to wash it.

You just remained sitted not sure if you annoyed the Captain which was the last thing you wanted.

After washing his cup, Levi looks at you and he spoke.

"What are you waiting for Brat? Move your lazy ass and change your clothes." He stated a bit annoyed you haven't moved from your sit.

"Huh?" You looked at him clearly confused.

Levi sighs again, "Don't just sit there and hurry up, we don't want to keep the baby waiting for food now, do we?" He asked, still the same monotone but you swore his gaze was softer.

For a moment Levi saw light in your eyes, there was a hint of sparkle to it, a hint of life.

Ever since the whole incident happened, you became more aloof and the light in your Doe shaped eyes slowly lost its glint of hope.

Levi noticed it, despite you not knowing, he was honestly paying attention to the small details of you.

You noticed how his gaze softened even more while he stares at you, without realizing it was your expression that caused it.

You immediately went to change your clothes, Levi was wearing a simple white long sleeve polo with his usual black pants and belt.

While looking inside the wooden closet, you saw your white puff sleeve milkmaid dress with a few soft blue dainty floral embroidery and lace details at the hem of the skirt, you decided to go for that also adding a finishing touch of white ribbon at your hair.

You then went towards the Captain who was already at the door, he was patiently waiting for you while running his fingers through his raven black hair, the strands falling neatly at his forehead.

Levi noticed your presence and looks at you, he didn't say anything but you can tell by the way he was looking at you that he did liked it

You gave him a small smile and nod as you followed him out of your shared quarters.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Going back to the present, you were now sitted inside the restaurant, waiting for the food Levi ordered.

While walking earlier, he managed to make you speak about the food you were craving for which was grilled fish topped with soy sauce.

You then looked at Levi who was sitting across you.

You decided to speak in order to break the silence.

"Captain, are you sure its alright if we eat here? It honestly looks a bit pricey..." you asked Levi softly in an almost whisper audibility.

Levi looks at you, "Are you implying that I can't afford it kid?" He asked you casually with his default monotone voice.

"Tha- Thats not what I mean Captain!" You immediately refute, while tucking a strand of your hair at the side of your ear a bit flustered.

You then noticed Levi's lips tug into a small discreet smile.

The moment was interrupted when the waiter served a big plate of grilled fish with soy sauce on top, there was also two cups of rice for both of you, a small bowl of broccoli with a few chuncks of meat, as well as a small bowl of mixed fruits.

Levi thanked the waiter and he began to put small portions of food into your plate.

"Uhm Captain... isn't this too much?" You asked Levi softly while looking at him as he continues to add a good amount of food into your plate.

"Just eat. The baby needs it." He replied firmly, yet laced with a bit of softness to it.

You give him a simple nod accompanied with a small smile.

Levi also grabs himself a few portions of food that he neatly placed on his plate.

Afterwards both of you took a spoonful,

A bright and genuine smile made its way towards your lips as you tasted the dish you have been eagerly craving for.

Levi saw your genuine expression, with your genuine smile and your Doe shaped eyes lighting up with specs of star like sparkles.

It was a warm and cozy scenery for Levi.

You noticed Levi looking at you, he then lets out a cough as he picked up a glass of water.

You both continued to eat, you can tell Levi was keeping an eye on you, if you ate properly and if he managed to finally satisfy your cravings.

"Thank you again Captain, you really made us both happy." You softly said, before taking another bite of mixed fruits.

"Both?" Levi asked you can tell he was a bit confused.

"Me and our baby." You replied still with your small genuine smile.

Levi couldn't help but give a small smile back.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

After eating, Levi opened the door towards the exit and you both continued to walk and wonder around the small stalls and shops.

You both then saw a familiar face, it was Hange.

"Oh... looks like someone is on a date huh Captain?" Hange teased, with a big grin plastered on her face.

Levi just glared at her.

"Hey (y/n), are you enjoying so far?" Hange asked with a small smile.

You nod and replied, "Yes Commander Hange, Captain Levi brought me to a nearby restaurant to eat the food that I was craving."

Hange then gave Levi a wink.

"Thats good (y/n), remember to take it easy alright?" Hange reminded knowing that you were going through some tough shit.

"Yes Commander, I promise to take it easy and to take care of myself more." You replied softly with a small smile.

"Thats the spirit (y/n)! And if any other douchebags start to make fun of you again... I'm sure Levi wil-" she then gets cut off by Levi.

"Thats enough four eyes, and mind your own bussiness." Levi said with a hint of annoyance.

Hange then bid you both goodbye, waving her hand and giving another quick wink at Levi.

"Captain, why did Commander Hange winked at you twice?" You asked Levi curiously.

"Its nothing, maybe its just your delusions Brat." Levi replied, clearly shrugging of the topic.

You just gave him a small nod and followed him through the crowd as you both continued to look around.

While you were both walking, you both saw two cadets a girl and a boy running around, the boy was running around carrying a book while the girl was chasing after him.

The boy then accidentaly bumps into you, Levi immediately caught you as you almost lost your balance. Your back pressed onto his hard chest, both of his arms pulling you close to him to steady you, while one of his hand protectively went to your still flat belly resting there.

"Are you alright (y/n)?" Levi asked you, his voice laced with concern.

"Yes Captain... thank you for supporting my balance." You replied softly, still a bit shocked about almost stumbling, but more stunned with the fact that he was actually holding you protectively while shielding your belly.

A thought then came up to your mind,

"Why will Captain Levi treat a traitor like me this way?"

That question has honestly bugged you ever since the incident with Floch at the mess hall, to be honest you also heard a few scouts talking to each other asking them that very same question.

You were then pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the two younger cadets apologize,

"We are very sorry Miss, and Captain Ackerman... we promise to be careful next time." The two cadets murmured, clearly frightened by Levi who was throwing them threatening glances.

"You two, just stop acting like wild brats and get out of my sight." Levi stated firmly.

The two cadets then quietly walked away after giving an apologetic bow.

Levi slowly lets you go, he then gently places his hands on both sides of your shoulder turning you, facing him.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He asked again.

"Yes Captain, positive." You replied while giving him a small reassuring smile.

"You sure? is our baby also alright?" He asked, his gaze softens.

"Our baby"

For the first time, you heard him address the baby in your womb as both of yours.

Not to mention this is also his first time placing his hand on your belly, acknowledging the baby that way.

Levi noticed you space out a bit, he then gently places his hand on top of your hair, ruffling it a bit,

In a soft and gentle way.

"Yes Captain... our baby it alright..." you replied gently, your gaze also softening towards Levi's gesture and choice of words.

Levi then lets you go and firmly yet gently grabs your hand, his big palm warming your smaller one.

"Don't let go Brat, I don't want to deal with anymore of those stupid cadets." He firmly stated, just like an order.

You look at him, meeting his gaze and you gave him a nod.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You both continued to walk, Levi then stopped in front of a shop that sells accessories. He then went towards the area where a few Cravats are displayed for sale, while he was looking at a few ones, you decided to wonder around the small shop.

You then saw the small jewelry area,

While wondering around you saw a necklace, it was a simple gold plated hardware with a small ruby stone.

You looked at it and you were mesmerized.

Unknown to you, Levi was looking at you.

Your attention was then taken by Mikasa who entered the store,

"Hi (y/n), what are you up to?" Mikasa asked softly.

"Hey Mikasa, I'm currently just waiting for Captain Levi, he is scanning through a few cravats." You replied giving her a small smile.

"Oh, I'm here to check out a few trinkets that I can possibly give Eren," Mikasa replied, also returning a small smile.

You both had a small talk for a few minutes until Levi told you it was time to go.

You both then waved goodbye to Mikasa.

"Did you found a Cravat up to your standards Captain?" You asked Levi cheerfully.

Levi shakes his head as you both continued to walk back towards the barracks to your shared quarters.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

After taking a bath, you wore your comfortable silk nightgown in the shade soft pastel blue. You then made your way towards your bed which was near Levi's bed only with a nightstand providing it a small space in-between.

You were about to lay down when Levi called you.

"(y/n) come here." He called out to you.

You then went towards his direction, he was standing at the small kitchen counter most probably preparing tea again since you knew he has a hard time sleeping most of the time.

"Turn around." He said casually.

You decided to just follow his order since he did treat you and took you out earlier, and it was something you were thankful for.

Levi then gently took out a small velvet box out from his pocket.

He then took the small dainty necklace out.

He carefully places the necklace around your neck, locking the clasp, his hands were almost light as a feather which was contrast to his usual strength.

You look down and saw the same necklace you were admiring earlier, it had the same dainty ruby stone that caught your attention.

You then faced Levi, your gaze both locking towards each other.

You were honestly lost for words.

How can he treat you like this after everything?

"Captain... this is..." you honestly really don't know what to say.

You then took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Thank you Captain... I... I really appreciate it but... I dont think I deserve such a gift from you..." you told him, your orbs still locking with his.

"A gift can't be denied (y/n)." Levi said, still with his monotone voice but it was firmly said.

"But Capta-" before you can continue your statement he once again cuts you off.

"No but's Brat, now go to bed." Levi said in a commanding tone.

Your gaze softens even more as tears started to form around the corners of your eyes.

"You do know I did not buy that for the purpose of making you cry, right?" Levi asked, for a moment his gaze softens again while looking at you.

"Yes Captain..." you immediately wiped your tears.

"Its probably my heightened emotions due to my hormones messing with me because of the pregnancy..." you added.

"Maybe you're just really a crybaby Brat." Levi softly responded in a teasing way.

Levi sighs, as a small hard to catch smile forms on the corner of his lips.

"Thank you again... Captain Levi... It means a lot to me..." you softly said another warm, gentle and genuine smile made its way on your lips.

You hesitated, but you knew you wanted it.

Without giving it another thought, you gently wrapped your arms around Levi, embracing him.

"You really made me happy Captain, thank you."

You gently said, your voice laced with warmth and undeniable happiness.

Levi returned the gesture.

"Its nothing, now go to sleep." Levi said as he gently lets you go.

Levi then turned his attention back to the tea he was planning to prepare.

You then went back to your bed laying down, still wearing the necklace Levi gave you.

Your thoughts then wondered again to the events that took place today, your so called "date" with the Captain.

You then slowly drifted to sleep, while happily thinking about everything.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

{ Levi's pov }

After drinking tea, He then decided to go to his bed until he was interrupted by the sight of you peacefully sleeping.

He then quietly walks over to your bedside,

Levi gently pushes the strands of bangs covering your forehead at the corner of your face, getting a clearer view of you.

He also glanced at the necklace he gave you earlier that you were still wearing.

He noticed how calm and peaceful you looked while sleeping,

"I hope I made you both happy today." He gently said, he then went towards his own bed.

Levi's mind then went back to the conversation he had with Hange a few days ago.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

"So we should avoid stress right?" Levi asked Hange while both of them were discussing about (y/n)'s situation and pregnancy.

"Yes, and also Levi, the baby can somehow feel the mother's emotions." Hange stated.

"What are you implying four eyes?" Levi curiously asked.

"If the mother is happy, so is the baby." Hange responded with a small smile.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Levi then decided to lay down on his bed, letting his body sink to the soft blanket and cushion,

his mind going back to the small, genuine smiles that (y/n) gave him earlier with her Doe shaped eyes lighting up with specs of star like sparkles.

"I hope I made them both happy today..." That was the thought Levi had.

He then glanced at you softly before also drifting to sleep.

"Goodnight (y/n)."

Taglist: @levislegislation @dontfollowab @3llawrit3s @levitonin @crescentmoontsuki @la1225

Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed Concurrence III, it focuses more on the fluff side which is a contrast to the previous ones, but I do think this will show the slowburn and bond that will slowly form between Levi & the reader, and also I really did enjoy writing this part of Concurrence!

I also decided to include a little pov from Levi, and I do plan to add more at the future parts,

I will be starting a few drafts for Concurrence IV,

If you want to join the taglist please do say so ♡

- Cinna

#concurrence #levi x y/n #levi x reader #attack on titan #snk levi #levi ackerman #captain levi #aot levi

[asapeveryday]

nika smut pleasee

Make a Wish

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Warnings: smut (thigh riding), alcohol

Summary: After a good game the team is ready to celebrate with a fun night out…you and Nika have a different kind of fun afterwards

A/n: I’m not gonna lie this lowk sucks 😣 forgive me. I’ll get better at writing for her I promise.

The drink burns your throat on its way down, but the warmth it brings to your body makes it worth it.

Fingers tingling, mind racing and body moving. The music was loud and the place was bustling. The girls usually kept it lowkey, but this win was so big it deserved something more, so when you suggested clubbing nobody objected.

Being Nika’s girlfriend meant you were automatically invited to these things. You felt awkward at first, seeing as you two were a fairly new couple and this was a team celebration, but she never failed to reassure you.

“You’re my girlfriend…there’s no way I’m going to a club without you.” She said with a smile. Who were you to argue?

Seeing her like this was something else. The lights were flashing, her hair was swaying against her moving body, her eyes closed and enjoying the music. You needed to be closer to her.

Dancing with Nika was something out of a dream. She was upbeat, singing along to songs, pouring shots into your mouth and spinning you around. It was all fun until you took it upon yourself to really dance. Slowly moving, pressing your backside against her front and tilting your head so her own could fit above your shoulder.

The look in her eye immediately changes. You’d never had a situation like this before. That point in the relationship hadn’t been met yet, so being pressed against her like this, your ass basically grinding into her? It was nerve-wracking, and turning you on to no end.

When her hands find your waist you can’t help but smile. You can feel her breathing on your neck and it sends goosebumps down your spine. Her eyes are burning holes into yours as you grind together to the music.

The moment is interrupted by a tap on her shoulder. A very amused KK whispers something in Nika’s ear, and she parts from you. “Paige just puked everywhere, so we have to head home.” She yells over the music. You’re disappointed, but there’s nothing you can do. The three of you join the others outside. You, Nika and KK call an Uber as you were all a little too tipsy to drive.

The quiet inside of the car is is shocking in comparison to the pounding noise of the club you’d just been in, you and Nika were squeezed in the back together while KK was in the front. Your knee was bumping into Nika’s, and although it was nothing to think twice about, your skin was tingling. Perhaps it was the tequila, or the memory of her calloused hands strong on your hips.

You almost choke on your breathing when she reaches out a hand to wipe your cheek. After shooting her an inquisitive look she says “There’s an eyelash on your face.”

On her finger there is in fact an eyelash, and she holds her hand in front of your mouth with a smirk. “Blow, make a wish.”

Nika’s eyes are stuck to you like honey, when you blow on her finger and hold her stare you don’t miss how her vision darts to your lips.

Lowering her hand casually to grip your thigh, she whispers “I played pretty good today, didn’t I?”

“So good.” You mumble, nervous at the change in atmosphere. She’d never touched you like this, possessively, and her usual cute and almost awkward voice had turned quiet and serious.

“I don’t think I can stay at my dorm tonight.” She murmurs into your ear. It’s less of a statement and more of a suggestion, one that you’re willing to take.

“Stay with me.” You look up at her. “That’ll make one wish fulfilled.”

You can tell that if it weren’t for KK and the Uber Diver in the front, Nika would’ve kissed you by now. Her hazel eyes keep darting to the mirror upfront, KK is on the verge of passing out and the driver is pretending not to notice anything. You and Nika share an understanding look between each other, one that says “just a little longer”

-

The lights are still off in your apartment when the two of you tumble inside, and you slam the wall multiple times before you actually hit the switch. Nika’s lips are too distracting, and she’s been dying to taste you all night.

Being flush against the wall, one hand is beside your head and the other on your face as her mouth clashes with yours. It’s urgent and fiery from your combined drunkness and Nika’s confidence from the earlier victory. You can feel yourself get wetter by the minute.

Her leg is positioned between yours, and her lips are trailing from your face to your neck. She sucks and licks at the sensitive skin, smiling at your breathy moans. You can’t help but lightly grind against her leg in hopes for any type of pressure.

At that, you’re moving around the apartment again, tangled in one another as you crash into things before finally landing on the couch. You scramble to sit on top of her, straddling one of her almost bare thighs as your lips connect again. One hand grips your ass and the other gropes your breasts, pinching at your nipples which causes you to gasp.

Your core is pulsing and she can feel it on her skin. Suddenly both her hands find your hips again, and she slowly manipulates you to grind onto her.

You pull away from the kiss to look at her, hair wild and makeup smudged. You don’t care how you look, you just want her to see how she’s ruining you, puppeteering your movements as you make a mess on her thigh. Her tongue occasionally wets her lips, muttering in Croatian and whispering praises.

When Nika starts to flex her leg muscles you feel the knot building gradually. You’ve fully soaked through your underwear now, and the skirt you wore to the club was riding up to no amend. Your breathy moans turned to louder ones with her help.

“C’mon baby, keep going.” She sweetly murmurs, your forehead pressed against hers, her eyes glued to your body grinding against her skin.

You’re tired but determined to chase your high. Nika had preformed for you all day so you were happy to put on a show for her, rocking your hips to achieve that heavenly friction as she slapped your ass and kissed you sloppily.

When you cum it sends shivers down your spine, the deep knot inside your stomach unraveling. You can’t help but slump over her, sticky, hungover and exhausted.

“So good.” You mumble against her neck.

Nika traces on your back and places a soft kiss on your cheek before saying “You looked so sexy.”

You lift your head to meet her eyes, her expression is tired but satisfied. You can’t help but laugh as as you swipe her cheek with your finger and show her the stray eyelash you’d captured.

Holding your hand to her lips, you smile.

“Blow, make a wish.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #uconn wbb #smut #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #nika mühl #f/f #rpf #uconn women’s basketball

[paradiseismine]

Twice as wet - Mike Wheeler x reader

Part 1/2.

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x f!reader

Warnings: slight NSFW, but tasteful I swear ok bye

It was a hot summer’s day, but not as hot as you. Your hair was shinier than ever and your smile was to die for, after all. Your confidence in your body had increased in the last year or so, and ever since you moved to Hawkins a month ago, it had sky rocketed, for some reason. You had just turned 18 and were ready to meet some cute guys.

Just not today.

Your mom had hired some neighbourhood kid to mow the lawn, and told you to stay home all afternoon to pay him afterwards, since she would be out to run some errands. So you sat on your couch, bored in a bikini and a pair of your shortest shorts, unable to jump in the backyard pool until that damn boy’s arrival.

At 1 p.m. sharp, your doorbell rang. You walked to the door and opened it gently.

- Uh, hello, are-are you y/n? - The boy asked, his head slightly tilted down so he would look you in the eyes. Man, was he TALL.

- Hi, that’s me - you smiled sweetly, trying to remember his name - and you’re… Michael, right? My mom told me to wait for you.

- Yes, that’s right… You can call me Mike, though - he scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, licking his lips.

That really got your attention. You examined his face for a second. His perfect jet black hair, his fair skin, plump red lips, delicate little freckles… Ugh. He’s so beautiful. Your lips cracked open as you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It was nearly a trance.

- So uh, should I get started on the lawn? - he grinned, shyly.

- Oh, yes - you said, as your eyes shot wide open, breaking that trance. - Sure. Come, I’ll show you where everything is.

You showed him around the garden and the garage: where the lawn mower was, how it worked and the area he needed to mow: your front yard first, and then the backyard, just around the pool. You tried to keep your cool and be normal about it, hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring when he arrived.

But he did. Mike Wheeler had been 18 for a few months right now, and he couldn’t believe such a pretty girl would check him out like that. He also tried to keep his cool, of course. He needed those summer jobs to afford a new guitar, and wouldn’t risk doing anything to displease you.

After the front yard was done, Mike circled around the house and got to the backyard - just to see you sunbathing near the pool.

Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought, as you got up and turned around, giving him a good look of your figure. What he wasn’t expecting, though, is that you jumped in the water a few seconds later.

As you emerged from the water, your hair darker and your eyes slightly squinted because of the sun, he couldn’t help but also notice all the little water droplets that were dripping from your face to your chest.

He was definitely checking you out. Ugh, thank God, you thought. Finally a cute boy I can obsess over. Because of course, you wouldn’t obsess over anyone who wasn’t obsessed with you too. As the work was all done, he put the lawn mower back on its place and walked over to you.

- Thank you so much, darling - you said, batting your eyelashes at him, your legs dangling from the edge of the pool. - There’s a red envelope on the fridge with your payment. I guess you could grab it later…

- Later? - he said, confused.

- Yes, after a little swim with me… in here - you said, smiling as if you had just offered him a drink of water.

Mike chuckled. He was definitely taking a sip.

- I mean… c-can I? - he asked, just in case.

- Of course, i got plenty of towels you could dry off with later… my mom won’t mind, she’s not coming back home until, at least, 7 p.m… What do you say?

Mike smiled at you as he yanked his shirt from the back of his neck. Just that single movement already made your insides twitch. Oh, that boy was in for a treat.

As he took off his pants and sneakers, you simply watched, no longer worrying about getting caught staring at him. He sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, his cheeks a bit red. Maybe from the sun, maybe from shyness.

You leaned in to kiss him, there was no point in waiting. He kissed you back softly, his hands grabbing your waist gently, as if he was afraid to scare you off. You were so pretty, he couldn’t believe it. Your right hand reached for his face, caressing it lightly, as you held his arm with your left hand and slowly guided him to actually enter the pool, so you would both stand up in it. Now your bodies were touching, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest as you grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair and scratched his back with your nails, now fully making out with him.

He reached for your thighs and brought you up to his waist, intensifying your lust. You wrapped your legs around him, holding yourself in place, as his hands slowly left your butt after a few good grips. You had never been so grateful for that pool.

Mike Wheeler had the biggest boner of his life. His underwear was white and now completely wet, plus he had a hard-on - great. What if you were offended by it? Was that uncalled for? Those questions left his brain the second your soft hand reached down under the water.

Damn, that boy was packing some heat down there. He jumped out of his skin with your touch, at first, but melted into it a second later.

- I know you’re kissing me in the pool just to get me twice as wet - you said, chuckling, as your foreheads were touching. - But maybe we should continue this on dry land.

- Sure, whatever you want, princess - he said, enchanted by you.

- Whatever I want, huh? - you put your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side. - That’s good to hear. I might take advantage of this later, though.

#finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard smut #mike wheeler x reader #finn wolfhard #mike wheeler #stranger things #imagine #miles fairchild #lol i tried

[grogusmum]

Please Mister Please

JOEL MILLER X F!READER (nicknamed)

SUMMARY: You can't seem to escape that one song even after the apocalypse. Joel and Ellies friendship brings you some comfort, and maybe Joel is interested in more.

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

WARNINGS: None to speak of. Unless you need one for soft Joel. As always, if you see something I've missed, let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Just a little something inspired by the Olivia Newton-John's song of the same name. (She was in her country music era) It's hardly edited, written on my phone, and Imma just yeetin' it out there. Oops. It's just the usual fluffy hurt comfort. But it IS my first go round with Joel. I hope you enjoy it! 💚

The jukebox was found on a supply run at some honky tonk out Fort Collins way called Sundance something or other. You laughed at your first thought, which was it's wasn't one of those new ones with CDs, realizing "those new ones" were now 40 years old... but this one was truly an antique, with vinyl in it and everything.

A Wurlitzer in all its chrome, brightly colored bakelite, and satisfying push button glory.

You shake your head now, thinking you should have known the moment you heard. Everyone was so excited. Because, of course, they were! How fun is an old timey jukebox full of country-western ballads, anthems, and line dance classics?

It brought an energy into Jackson, the likes you hadn't seen before it. You'd gotten in early on, and watched its evolution from place where people were merely surviving to an industrious hive of busy bees, creating abundance but there wasn't much room for joy and then out of the clear blue sky - line dancing. At first they couldnt keep it plugged in all the time, it was turned on for a half an hour at the end of the day, until they had a good handle on the dam and the power plant was working consistently. You're sure it was the inspiration for Maria's attention to holidays and socials after seeing the excitement and morale lift from it. Suddenly, y'all were living, not just staying alive. So it seems silly, with so much real life and death shit to deal with, to get so hung up on one song, but it carried so much weight for you, you just couldn't shake it. If only it wasn't so sweet, if only it wasn't so catchy… Maybe people wouldn't have noticed it among all the other tracks. But it was sweet and it was catchy, and about making it after all the shit they'd been through...

So naturally, at five songs for a quarter, it ends up in the mix at some point. (It's the only reason the town has any coins. Paying it could have been bypassed, but dropping the 25¢ seemed to be part of the fun.) So when you least expected it, it would start to play, and so far, it continued to flip your stomach and make your eyes glass. And think about how he and you didn't actually make it.

Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson several months now. Ellie dove right in, school, taking care of the horses afterward, trying to socialize. She's a little guarded sure but mostly funny and eager. Joel started helping Tommy right away, but it seemed to you more to keep busy than to join the community. He's wary and taciturn. When they weren't in those organized work times, they stuck close. When Ellie ventured into social activities, Joel let her go, but he was ever watchful, with Ellie checking in often even just a look over her shoulder, just to see if he was still there. He always was. They reminded you of a bonded pair of strays.

You liked your place, Catnip's Apothecary. They'd come in twice so far, once when Joel brought Ellie in for a poison ivy rash and once when Ellie brought a very grumpy Joel for inflammation in his knees Ellie found all your jars of tinctures, teas, herbs, and powders fascinating. Asking what everything did, looking at drying plants hanging from rafters in wonder, pspspsing the cats.

“Are you a witch?”

“Ellie!” Joel admonished, but looking at you for a tell. Were you? You could see him wondering.

Tonight, Ellie is at the rec center, a movie theater for the evening, awaiting the start of none other than Star Wars.

You only laughed. Sure you were, but what they were seeing here was hardly witchcraft, just herbalism, mostly. Joel and Ellie are both bright and observant - you're pretty sure they both noticed you didn't answer.

Where did they find all these 70s flicks? Nevertheless, A New Hope's a great find. You can't resist going, even though you know it by heart, and you'll have to force yourself not to recite all the dialogue. Sitting smack dab in the middle, surrounded by all these kids and young adults, seeing it for the first time, you munch your popcorn and smile.

You don't see Joel, but it's not like you are actively looking for him… just curious, given their perhant to stay together and you figured he will know the movie too, maybe he's more of a Trekie. When you catch Ellie's eye, she waves animatedly and moves to sit beside you.

“Sssoooo, you're like one of the only grown ups here.” there is a gremlin glint in Ellie’s eye.

“Yeah, I thought there'd be more nostalgia watchers-” you say a little sheepishly. “ But it's okay, I'll see it with a soon-to-be New Generation of Star Wars Fans. Bear Witness!”

“And what if it sucks?”

The noise you make is somewhere between an indignant scoff and a gasp of purest offense. But you rally.

“Oh just you wait padawan-”

"What's a pada-"

As quickly as the lights go down the attention commanding drums of the 20th Century Fox fanfare begin.

“Oop here we go! Buckle up, buttercup!!”

You live vicariously through the new audience for the next two hours, and it is a pure joy.

The young people of Jackson laugh at the Laurel and Hardy comedy stylings of Threepio and Artoo, they eat up the “though she be little she is fierce” snarky spirit of Princess Leia, gasp at Alderaan's fate and Obi Wan's sacrifice, cheer at Hans return, hold their collective breath when Luke turns off his targeting device to use the force, and burst into applause when he makes the one in a million shot, womp rats in Beggars Canyon take heed.

“Aw man I really hope we can see Empire some day,” you say as the credits roll.

Ellie is elated, peppering you with questions about the sequel and then Return of the Jedi and you do you best, not wanting to spoil too much if she actually gets to watch it.

“I'm this way,” she says suddenly, as she peels off from the town center, “see ya!”

You head toward the Tipsy Bison, to join the adults, most of which took advantage of the kids being off at the movie to do a little drinking and dancing.

The spring has brought high spirits, and with it bright chatter and the stomp of line dancing in progress. Grabbing a spot to watch, you order yourself a drink. When the song ends, there's hoots and applause, and the next one is slow and sweet, and it only takes the first note for you to feel the drop in your belly.

Joel saw you come in, he had seen you from the street actually, when the community center emptied after the film, he had his eye out for Ellie and saw her come out with you, talking animatedly and laughing. He smiled. You were his age, or close enough he guesses, not only from both the smile and worry lines but your points of reference when talking, only missing references that are local to growing up in Texas. It's comforting, you remember Before. You also have a light he can't get enough of, you didn't confirm nor deny it but he is sure you've enchanted him witch or not. He's just been to, 'shy' isn't the right word... he just hasn't been able to make any sort of move.

Now you sit alone, a moment ago smiling, tapping to the music. He had been taking in some liquid courage, in the form of whiskey, to ask you to dance. But the light in your eyes is replaced with a shine, not in the way he loves. He's seen this a couple times, he realizes. Times when your eyes go far away and a sadness descends on you.

He gets up and checks the jukebox, taking note of the song. He's pretty sure he's right. He can't bypass a song on a jukebox, nor can he tell a DJ to change it. But he's gonna talk to Walt the barkeeper, first chance he gets.

Then he does his best to saunter over to your little table, drink in hand. He's pretty sure his sauntering days are over.

“Hey Catnip, can I sit?”

You look up wiping your wide eyes.

“Oh, sure, Joel, please,” your smile tries to reach your eyes, but it flickers and can't stay.

“So," joel starts, he's not good at this. He's gotten better but, “You're Still the One, huh? For me it's Vince Gill- When I Call Your Name ”

You just look at him, and he starts to think maybe he hasn't improved at all.

“I don't know that one, it was kind of a fluke that our song, his song was a country song. It's not my usual genre.”

“Well it wasn't my lady and my song, it was the song that I listened to after she left. Sarah was so little. I felt so lost in those early days. Now I can't even hear the open-”

“Opening chords,” you finish with a chuckle, “yeah, I can't- and now of course it all wrapped up in the Before Times, too. But here it is, in a jukebox of less than 200 songs, the one song that represents my husband walking out on me before the shit hit the fan.”

“I can't even picture anyone leaving you with nothing but a song.”

“Yeah, well, I can picture it quite clearly. I can't imagine someone leaving you with a little baby girl to raise.”

“We are in the same boat, darlin’ until it happened I would have been with you on that. We were very young, 22, she panicked.”

“Aren't we a pair?”

“Why don't this pair go for a walk then?”

Joel holds his breath, looking into your lovely face.

“I'd like that.”

Standing, Joel holds out a hand to guide you up and out of the bar, it settles comfortably on your lower back, the song long over. His hand tingles and theres a flutter in his chest at being allowed to touch you this way.

It smells like petrichor, though the skies are clear. Joel's hand leaves your back to your chagrin, but he gently holds out his elbow, and with a crooked smile you slip your hand in the crux of it.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smiles and brings you to the newly constructed, yet to be painted, gazebo.

You climb the handful of steps and look at the town from this new vantage point.

Behind you, Joel comes close, his hand casually on your hip, like you did this everyday. His mouth close to the shell of your ear and a quiet hum floats in, the controlled breath tickling, you smile knowing the very apt song choice,

“Are you making fun of me Joel Miller?”

He chuckles, then the words over take the hum -

“Please mister, please, don't play B-17

It was our song, it was his song but it's over

Please Mr. please, if you know what I mean

I don't ever wanna hear that song again…”

Joel turns you, arm around your waist, his other hand sliding into yours -

" I'd sound a bit better with my guitar, but when we couldnt dance, so-"

He starts a simple box step, as he sings quiet and low, just for you, while turning you around the gazebo.

You join in singing whispering in his ear the chorus when it comes again. It feels cathartic. Then you step back - who is this man? Not the guy who came in with a little girl, a gut wound that should have killed him, poorly healed knuckles, and the weary eye of someone who is always waiting for the other shoe to come down on him like it's made of lead. But looking at him now, those brown eyes wide but the little crease between his eyes holding his concern. His jaw soft, making you take more note of his natural pout and the salt and pepper scruff, the little spot that just won't fill in, it looks like a heart… you wonder if it's as soft and smooth as it looks and if he'd let you touch it to find out.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 💚

Please consider commenting and reblogging. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, you can find my masterlist here. If you would like to be notified when i post more work, you can find my taglist form here.

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal character fics #pedro pascal characters

[therealmrsgojo]

Valentines special (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

Hi, everyone! Posting my personal favorite snippet on my fic I'd lie! you can click the link if you want to read the full version of it. summary: first time meeting itadori yuji, as gojo satoru's wife! warnings: canon-compliant, pregnant reader and drunk-in-love gojo.

15th of August, 2018

You find yourself in the kitchen, humming softly to the music playing in the background. The aroma of the spices and herbs fills the air as you chop the vegetables for tonight's dinner.

A small smile adorns your lips as you hear the servants of your home offer to do the chopping instead. "No, thank you. I find myself enjoying these lately," you politely decline.

The servants bow to you in return, watching in admiration, their eyes fixed on the elegant and glowing woman in front of them, the head wife of the Gojo clan.

As you continue your tasks, your phone rings, breaking your concentration. You wipe your hands on the tablecloth and answer the phone.

"How's my pretty wife doing, hm?" Satoru's voice greets you from the other end of the line.

"I'm doing well," you reply, looking back at the pot and stirring its contents. "I'm cooking our favorite dish. It's almost done, honey."

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Satoru's voice inquires with concern. "You just got off from work. If you're going to do the cooking instead of letting the helpers do it, why don't you quit your job for now and just wait for me every day with your pretty little face?"

"That's not going to happen, Gojo Satoru," your tone was stern and resolute. You continued by confessing, "I hate doing nothing. Simple things like cooking make me happy." He could hear the passion in your voice as you spoke about your newfound love for cooking.

On the other end of the line, he sighed deeply, realizing he couldn't argue with you. He knew that you were a determined and independent person and that it was hard to change once you set your mind on something.

Imagining your pouty lips, pleading eyes, and even a soft, simple "please" from you would make his knees buckle in defeat. He, the strongest sorcerer, was no match for you.

"And also, I wanted to give you a heads up that Megumi will be joining us for dinner tonight," he said, pausing a moment before adding, "Oh, and a new student of mine, too, if that's alright with you."

"Of course it's okay," you replied with a smile, "I appreciate you telling me beforehand so I can prepare. Do you remember the last time you brought Maki, Panda, Yuuta, and Megumi all at once? I was caught off guard and unprepared."

"I remember. Especially how you didn't kiss me for a whole day afterward because you were so upset." Satoru laughed, adding, "We'll be there soon. Love you ~ "

As the call ended, you turned to one of the servants standing nearby, ready to assist you at a moment's notice.

"Hana, please prepare some guest rooms for tonight," you said, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. "We might need them later for our visitors. Thank you." You patted her shoulder, seeing her nod, before she turned around to follow your orders.

After your engagement, the wedding came soon after, taking place a few months later. You and Satoru had decided to have a simple ceremony with only the most important people in your lives present. You wanted to honor the traditions of the Gojo clan that had fascinated you since you first met Satoru.

Following your honeymoon, you were named the new head wife of the Gojo clan. Satoru's parents had decided to move out, passing on the responsibility of running the family estate to you and your husband. This was a significant moment for you both, as it was a tradition that had been passed down through generations.

The other servants had kindly taken care of wrapping up your cooking and set the table for dinner. You stood in the kitchen, washing your hands; you couldn't help but feel satisfied with your small accomplishment.

Lost in thought, you suddenly felt a pair of soft hands tenderly caressing your stomach, a body pressing up against your back, and nose slowly breathing in the scent of your neck. The unexpected touch sends a shiver down your spine, but you quickly recognize the familiar touch of your husband.

As you turned around, you saw your husband's warm smile that lit up his face. He quickly bent down to one knee and nuzzled his face into your stomach, murmuring, "I missed the both of you." You laughed at his affectionate gesture as you lovingly caressed his hair in response.

"I'm not sure they can hear you yet, love," you conveyed with a gentle smile. "I'm just barely two months pregnant, 'Toru."

Your husband looked up at you with a pout on his face, making you giggle like a teenager. He then stood up, took your face in his hands, and pressed soft kisses to your forehead, nose, and lips. The warmth of his embrace and his scent enveloped you completely.

He then turned to you and said, "Hi, my wife," looking at your face with a loving gaze, as if he was seeing you for the hundredth time but still couldn't get enough of you.

You both heard voices from the dining room, and your husband took your hand, pulling you and leading you toward the two students you had been expecting.

As you entered the room, a pink-haired boy with a curious look on his face muttered, "Wow, it's so big here, Fushiguro," his eyes scanned the delicate features around the room in amazement.

"(Y/N)-san," Megumi noticed you first and walked towards you with a small smile. You embraced him, feeling happy to see him doing well, patting his back and giving him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go. "How are you, Megumi?" you asked him.

"I'm doing well, thank you, for all that food you sent to the dorms, too," he replied, his cheeks turning slightly red at your affection.

As you stood there, your husband caressed your hair and introduced you to the other student. "Yuji, this is my wife (Y/N)," he said, turning towards the boy staring at you in awe, his mouth slightly apart.

"Itadori Yuji, nice to meet you," he said, bowing profoundly and complimenting you on your beauty that made you and your husband laugh.

"Nice to meet you too, Yuji. Let's go eat now, shall we?" you said softly, patting his shoulders as you led him to one of the dinner chairs.

The dinner was filled with laughter and stories as you all caught up with each other. You felt happy to see Megumi and Yuji bonding so well, as they were a perfect mix. You also learned about Nobara, another student you wanted to meet soon. As supper ended, every one commended your cooking, and you suggested that the two students stay for the night, offering rooms that were ready for them. They agreed happily.

As you both retired to your quarters, your husband's face was pressed up against your stomach, his hands caressing your hips as he mumbled sweet nothings to your unborn child.

You ran your fingers through his hair, smiling at the sight of the strongest sorcerer alive baby-talking to your pregnant stomach.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Your night was spent tenderly, with sweet words lingering in the air between you and your husband.

The moonlight bore witness as you made love with each other, lost in your own world of passion and intimacy.

Note: Aaaand that's it! Happy hearts day everyone! Thank you for reading this.

"Where we love is home – home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."

xoxo,

Aurora.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #satoru #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #jjk satoru #satorugojo #gojo #jujutsu satoru #valentines day #aurora's fics

[ladykailitha]

Batshit Soulmates Part 3

Hey guys! More of this delicious AU.

Steve is suffering under the effects of the truebond. And things get a little dire for Max, too.

In Medias Res| Prologue|Pt 1| Pt 2|

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve got back to his house and immediately stripped down to hop in the shower. He turned the water to as hot as it would go. He needed to drown out his thoughts and hot water would help with that.

He washed and conditioned his hair, allowing the conditioner to do its thing while he did the rest of his routine. Once he was done, he rinsed his hair.

He towel dried his hair, taking the time to squeeze out as much of the water as he could. He stopped himself as he realized what he was doing. He was primping for Eddie. A wanted fugitive who couldn’t care less what Steve’s hair looked like. He tried not primp when he got dressed. But he still managed to put on his nicest polo and tightest jeans, anyway. He did try to de-slut himself by adding the white undershirt.

Which of course made the polo tighter and thereby defeating the purpose. Steve just shrugged. Max was waiting for him and changing now would only waste time he really didn’t have.

****

Eddie was not having a good time. He was hungry and hunted and more than a little haunted. Sleep was fitful at best. He just hoped he wasn’t screaming in his sleep. That would have really brought him unwanted attention.

He tried find ways to entertain himself. Because if seeing Chrissy die like that didn’t make him crazy, being alone with nothing to do was going to drive him the rest of the way there.

He finally resorted to tossing bottle tabs, coins, and other small items into a cup to see how many he could get in.

Eddie was losing.

Suddenly there was the crunch of tires on gravel and he was on his feet in an instant. He grabbed his broken bottle and peeked out the window. He couldn’t see the vehicle that pulled up. Was it the cops? Someone else?

The door to the boathouse burst open and Eddie was sure his heart burst with it.

There standing in the doorway looking more than a little sheepish were his rescuers. Dustin, Robin, Max, and Steve bringing up the rear. Steve gave a little hand wave and he forced himself to breath normally again. He glared at them to know that what they did was a little fucked up.

They explained everything to him as simply as possible. Steve actually was kind and walked him through each new piece of information to make sure he understood.

Afterwards when they were getting ready to leave again, Eddie pulled Robin aside.

“Um...” he said rocking back on his heels, hands on his back, “so you’re running with Steve Harrington now?”

Robin opened her mouth the say something mean, but she knew what he was really asking. “Yeah, monsters and monstrous humans tend to make for great social glue.”

“And he knows...” he said trailing off. “He knows?”

She knew what he was trying desperately not to say. Did Steve know she was gayer than a May pole? She nodded. “Yeah. I know what he was like in high school, but he’s not like that anymore.”

Eddie nodded. “It’s just wild you know.”

“Having King Steve as your soulmate?” she asked tilting her head to the side.

He let out a shuddering breath and pressed his together. He closed his eyes and then opened them slowly. “How do you even deal with that?”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

Eddie frowned. “You haven’t found your soulmate yet?” It was just surprising. Yeah, Steve and him hadn’t found each other until their late teens/early twenties. But that was rare.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh no, I know who she is. Pretty sure she knows it’s me, as well, but she has decided that fellow band geek Robin Buckley just isn’t her flavor or such shit.”

His frown deepened. “It’s Vickie Cameron, isn’t it?”

Robin cocked her head to the side. “How did you know that?”

He opened his mouth and closed a couple of times before he said, “Look, the safest place to deal...” he gave her a pointed look warning her to keep her mouth shut.

She mimed zipping it closed.

“Is behind the community center next the swimming pool,” he explained. “I’d deal, use some of the money to cool off in the summer because my trailer ain’t great when it comes to not being as hot as the devil’s tit.”

Robin wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

“The point is I saw her soulmark,” Eddie growled. “It’s a trumpet. On her shoulder. Right where I’m guessing there’s a clarinet on yours.” He nodded toward her. “What is she, homophobic or some shit?”

She shrugged. “Who the fuck knows. She doesn’t treat me badly and sometimes I even think she’s flirting with me, but she has a boyfriend who’s in college so...”

Eddie winced. “That sucks.”

Robin scoffed. “About as bad as learning your soulmate is your antithesis or whatever in the middle of another apocalypse.”

He could only agree, but they were getting off the topic at hand. “Has Steve said anything to you about being my soulmate?”

She sighed. “Only that it fucking sucked learning about it with a bottle pressed to his throat.”

Eddie sighed, too. “Look, I wouldn’t have done anything. I was scared and alone and jocks hate me. Like I thought Jason has sent him, okay?”

Robin blinked. “Oh because of the basketball thing?”

Eddie nodded.

“I guess that makes sense,” she said. “But he really fell from grace when Billy smashed in his head. He’s just this lovable goof with a heart of gold.”

She paused for a second.

“Like I think he always was.” She patted his shoulder and went to join the others.

Steve told the others to go out to the car and jogged back to Eddie.

“It’s too dangerous to move you right now,” Steve murmured. “But we’ll try to stay on the walkies, okay?”

Eddie nodded. “Just don’t forget I’m here, man.”

Steve gripped Eddie’s arms. “We won’t, but we have to find out what’s going on and we’re going to be spread pretty thin. I wish there was another way to do this.”

Eddie let out a long breath, not quite a sigh. “I’ll try, man. If you guys are right about all this shit, I’m really scared. Plus with the town thinking it was me...”

“We’ll figure it out,” Steve promised.

Eddie nodded again and settled down to wait it all out. At least he had food and drink, which was more than he had before.

****

All this running around looking for clues was shit on Steve’s nerves. He was close to screaming. He had almost taken Lucas’s head off when the kid came tearing around a blind corner at night in the high school they had just broken into.

And Robin was doing that thing she always does when faced with a pretty girl, flirt. Which considering said pretty girl was not only Steve’s ex, but already soulmated? Yeah, Steve was sure his breaking point was going to hit sooner rather than later.

It came when Max started rising in the air like some fucked up messiah. Because he could tell something was wrong he was able to get ahold of Robin and Nancy who told them about the music and Lucas was able to find her favorite song on her Walkman and play it for her, she didn’t get Vecna’ed or whatever the hell it was the kids were calling it.

Once she was safe he sat down on the ground hard and buried his head in his hands. He fought to breathe, barely making it through the gasps of sobs that were torn out of him.

How can they fight something that could take anyone of them at anytime? How is he supposed to protect the people he loves most from an unseen force?

He had to keep it together. For Max because she was the victim here. For Lucas because he almost had to watch his soulmate get ripped from him. For Eddie who was frightened beyond the pale. He had to be the strong one.

And then he felt warm arms around him.

“She’s safe now,” Dustin murmured. “We got to her in time because of you. That was scary as hell, but it would have been worse if you had listened to Lucas and me. A lot worse.”

Steve lifted his head and nodded. “Thanks, bud.”

Dustin helped him stand. “We have to get everyone together.”

Steve nodded. “I just wish there was to include Eddie without telegraphing to the asshats in town where he is.”

Dustin grimaced. “Yeah, but there isn’t.” He looked at Steve a moment. “How are you doing? I don’t think I’ve seen you like this before.”

Steve showed him his soulmark. It was black and angry.

“Why does it look like that?” Dustin nearly screamed.

Lucas and Max came running and they looked down at Steve’s mark, too.

“Shit,” Max hissed. “That’s not good. Why didn’t you tell anyone you and Eddie were true soulmates?”

Lucas and Dustin looked at her in shock.

“A what now?” Lucas asked, looking back and forth at Steve and Max in confusion.

“True mates,” Dustin said slowly in disbelief. “I’ve only read about those. They’re super rare.”

“It means,” Max hissed, “that Steve can’t be separated from his soulmate for long otherwise he gets super sick.”

“But only after they touch each other’s marks,” Dustin finished. “Why did you that? Why did you touch each other’s marks if that was going to happen?”

Steve huffed. “Because Dustin, you don’t know you’re true mates until after you touch.”

“Oh,” Lucas and Dustin said together.

“This is bad, Steve,” Max huffed ignoring the boys. “You have to get back to Eddie.”

Steve shook his head. “I can last a little bit longer. You’re in danger, Max. That’s more important than me.”

“But what about Eddie?” Dustin asked. “Won’t he get sick, too?”

Steve threw back his head and groaned. “I can’t take care of everyone at once. Plus, if I keep going back to the boathouse someone will see and come to check it out. That would do far more harm to Eddie than being a stupid true mate to someone like me.”

Dustin and Lucas glanced at each other and then each held out their hand to Steve. He took each of their hands and allowed the two boys to haul him to his feet.

“How close do you think you have to be to stop it from burning?” Dustin asked Max.

Max shrugged. “My mom and Neil aren’t truemates so I don’t know for sure. But a hell of a lot closer than cemetery to the lake.”

Dustin nodded. “Would Skull Rock be close enough?”

“Or even just driving past the lake might work,” Lucas suggested.

Steve hugged them both. “I’ll visit him tomorrow, we just need to get everyone else together to discuss what happened to Max.”

They all nodded.

****

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @oxidantdreamboat @mogami13 @samsoble @xandriumbat @ellietheasexylibrarian @lololol-1234 @y4r3luv @disrespectedgoatman

#stranger things #my writing #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #soulmate au #alternate season 4 #byler #lumax #jancy #dustin/suzie #robin/vickie

[qvrcll]

Hi! So I love your blog and I have a request if you're up for it!

So imagine Vendetta!Leon or ID!Leon with a younger, Rookie D.S.O agent. So the reader is learning about what it takes to be an agent and they are skilled but a little reckless. The reader and Leon end up going on a mission together and something happens to where the reader does something risky/reckless to save Leon and afterwards while Leon is patching them up he's also scolding them for putting themselves into a dangerous situation...

I just thought it was a cute idea and I adore your blog so obviously no pressure and thank you regardless! :)

change

summary: training to be a d.s.o agent has its perks and its fair share of dangers, and who would know that best other than the acclaimed leon s. kennedy? former rookie cop turned myth, you’re troubled as you try to not question your worth to your duty — to him.

warnings: intense violent imagery, d.s.o. agent reader, talk of death / loss, talk of wounds / stabbing, weapons mentioned, angst (comfort i swear!!!!!!!), written with infinite darkness ! leon in mind

a/n: bam stop using deftones songs as titles FAILED. and hello??? ur mind??? revolutionary. but thank u so much for the request!! i did make it more angsty than intended 😭 but happy ending i swear !! this is just a general disclaimer, but i’m trying my best to get as many requests done as possible, but finding myself easily burnt out, so please bare with me if i take some time to get these pieces out!! enjoy :-)

word count: 3.5k+ (help)

You’re well put together — inundated at the seams and bursting in the areas that made you an excelling recruit, something of a common place practice when one gets appointed to a station as alpine as the D.S.O.

It’s gruelling at first. The training, not the people — the people here offer you awkward but veritable grins, cloying pats on the head when you’d surpassed a notable fix in your inculcation, maybe even conversation in places you’d expect hard worn expressions, bumps of the shoulders, a lack of acquiescence for a new comer such as you.

“Turns out, there’s a new donut place opening in the city” someone speaks through a mouthful of food, grinning when admonished by their peer. They look at you with tired yet cordial won eyes, something like a respite in comparison to the gruelling training and pains you endure in staple hours.

You laugh, craning backwards, replying “Really? Wanna go sometime?”

And they teem, sheen with surety as you set a date. The date passes and you’ve got your fridge brimmed with donuts — pastel, sugar coated and chockfull of profuse fillings.

You’re home. You’re staring at your laptop. The device whirrs with effort, the screen fulgent with simulated light as block words stare back at you — MULTIPLE KILLED IN GOVERNMENT ORDAINED PROJECT. SEVERAL INJURED.

The next day, you press your lips together and wait for the space ahead to be filled with a familiar face, some day old blistering talk about donut shops and parties and mandated leaves.

No one comes. You chew your bread in wanton silence.

And your days blur as usual — your attitude is unparalleled. You give yourself the credit for coarsening against such losses, of confidants who offered you their time and remaining nuance of sentience. You don’t, however, congeal like they do. You do not die or recoup.

You move senselessly and so do the days.

It’s several months later, when you’ve gathered yourself in the training room, greased with sweat and vigour, when you meet him.

Leon S. Kennedy, in the flesh.

There’s talk of him in the corridors, rumours of his barely capricious resolve and even more so of his loyalty to the D.S.O. Of his habitual reclusiveness, ordained leaves and near blank appearances.

He’s almost a myth.

Still, you’re real and working and need to cavort around your training till your muscles bleed and chalk up with pain that marks enough effort for the night — you do not want to stay a rookie forever. There’s a insecurity underscored in your brain somewhere, in bright red lines and despite the sweat of your skill in your hands, but you decide to delineate it for tonight. Try to focus on the knotty feel of the compress against your knuckles as you strengthen your feet, begin to get into a stance most up to par, a gracing thought of ‘please don’t break my bones’ pressed into the bean bag before—

“Hello?”

The addition of another voice, besides the earsplitting one in your mind, makes you falter. Makes you lose your footing and touch the target in front of you, rather than skirting it with a hard worn touch — the sight would’ve made you chuckle on a normal day. But today was not normal, it was marked with a accent of irresolutions. So you swivel on your feet, baring your teeth like the caitiff the D.S.O had disillusioned everyone into being. The pretence doesn’t fool anyone, not even yourself, but you give it a try.

And maybe you give yourself some credit, for stoking it up to the myth, the caricature of duty himself, Leon Kennedy. In the flesh, complexion enervated in his well earned stack of muscle, that seemed to be garbed with a leather jacket. Jeans.

How… normal.

You lose tension in your muscles. Ditch the shout in your brows. Abandon the faux, heavy lined bellicosity in your belly for curiosity. Some guilt and embarrassment, too.

“Leon S. Kennedy?” you gasp, feel the air hit your tongue. The room grows a faltering few degrees hotter, and some part of you is convinced you’ll sink into the floor in a matter of minutes.

But Leon offers you one of his complimentary smiles that scream business. His hands are discarded in the wide sinews of his jeans, where they are distracted and nonplussed with the goal of hurting the material with diverted fingers. Yet you linger ahead of him, visibly sweaty and awkward, and it blunders his heart with some peace that you’re biding that same level of awkwardness.

“In the flesh,” he jokes, but the room is too small, too dark to determine tone. To determine the weight of his words or his presence. You still find sentience in you to laugh, snort even, and it makes the air between a lot more genuine, “I’ve come to discuss something here with you.”

“With me?” you croak, not wanting to sound delirious but inevitably falling for the trap — what did the Leon Kennedy want to do with a single recruit that is you? Skilled, yes, but sharing the innumerable roster of missions as him? Not a chance. Still, you grab a towel and a bottle of water, finding rhythm in your step as you talk alongside him to the exit.

Slogging be damned.

He offers a small nod, resigned in a way that made sense to the both of you, “We’re to be assigned in a collaborative project. A mission, if you will,” he opens the door, allows you to step past the threshold first and doesn’t miss the way you flesh out with a terrible blush as you skitter ahead, “Nothing too out of the ordinary for agents like you and me. Just a simple clear up.”

But we are nothing alike, you want to ink the air with the words. And some part of you stiffens as you hear the intractable comparison. Still, you’re curious above all things else and hear him out — not that I can refuse, you add mentally. Scribble out with imaginable red ink.

“When will it be?” you ask, feet jittery and muscles still sheening.

“A month from now” he confirmes. You work to notice the exigent lines of wear and tear on his face, the follow of a stubble beginning to thread against his chin and jaw. The sharpness giving way to kindness in his eyes as he looks at you.

Oh god, he’s looking at you.

“I see,” you say, gaze falling to the gravel and spit of stone as you corner the exit. As the wind hits your skin, you’re pathetically assuming a shiver. You hope Leon isn’t as perceptive as the rumours pin him to be, but you never truly get anywhere with that wish — he places a warm, kind hand on your shoulder, “You’re freezing.”

“Yeah I should probably—“

“Get back?”

“Home, yeah.”

And an awkward, painfully annoying silence courses the space between you two — between you and this acclaimed proxy you barely knew prior to these graceless seconds. The better part of you ushers the thought away and the worse part of you is antsy to prove something — anything.

“Get home safe…” he offers some semblance of a tight lipped smile, again as reclusive as he can get. His back is turned to you, departing, and you’re pulled in the other direction by your feet, when you suddenly turn around.

He’s gone already.

The month beneath his guidance is as you expect it — resilient and tough on the flesh. He manoeuvres you in ways you’d never have begun to correct yourself (“Lift the end of your arms here, instead of down here.”)

He presses feeling and rigour to his praise (“That’s it — you got it. Good job — now give me 20 more.”)

He holds you back from splintering push forwards, from the bridge between you and your apex. Holds a hand against your wet shoulder to shoulder your eagerness (“Woah, woah — don’t get too ahead of yourself.”)

You make it known of your gratefulness. You buy takeout and share it on the stairs. You communicate your worries and walk out free of them.

You also hate him for rubbing raw of your potential. You hate him for the wounded look in his eyes when you falter. You hate him for the itch in his fingers when you push yourself some more.

But you keep that one for the shadows. Don’t make it known. Hide it behind falsity.

You share takeout on the stairs again.

The night before the assignment couldn’t be more gruelling.

You’re welcome by the sheets, yet find no recluse in them, as you twist and turn as the hours come. Your feet are stretched and throbbing with hurt from the range of pushing exercises from the day before, your fingers curling with effort only.

And your head is plagued. Swimming, bathed, with those reticent thoughts. Those same block letters that spoke back to you, flagged the death of thousands you knew from passing glances to remembered conversations.

You turn on your side, try to flush the thought away. But they come back with vigour, with spit.

You knew them.

You’d eaten with them.

You’ll die just the same.

Fuck this.

Your feet find the cold, hard-wood floors immediately. They’re a ridged comparison to the heat of the sheets, but a blistering reminder of what’s to come tomorrow. You pace your apartment, crowd your brain with tasks, busy your hands, till the sun flits past the clouds like routine.

And with your heart in your throat, you ready yourself to the chin, gripping yourself with the promise of doing what you must to euchre death on its own doorstep — both for you and Leon.

The day arrives with a quick start. You’re deployed in a vehicular that is smaller than anticipated, holding your fears in your hands with cupped palms. Leon sits beside you, eyes vacant of anything palpable. You’d talked once, but that’s all of what either of you offered each other up till now — now, it’s you and your fears, cut-throat and fusty, ahead of you.

A thought of your friend passes your mind.

A thought of the donut shop.

A thought of the bottom of your coffee cup.

A thought of the post-mortem images. Of the flesh. The blood. The time. The place.

“Remember,” Leon cards you out of your worst, thoughts crumbling against themselves as you swivel to glance at him, “on me at all times. No sudden moves. Got it?”

He is far more profound here, the spitting image of the rumours materialised into the skin of a battle worn agent — his tone is pebbly, no semblance of that night’s patience in it anymore.

He’s in it for good. And you should be too.

“Got it,” you reply when the seconds flow too far. He nods back, curt and sharp and you want to talk him up. Want to offer your share of strategies. Want to card through the wounds on your arm and how to avoid the bloody things. Want to loop your fingers through half of his experience and not want to set him back.

But it was never that simple. And the ride is just as silent.

Two hours in and you’re stationed against crumbling brick, jagged stone, MK-45 gripped tightly in your hands. The smell of rot, mycelium, abused your lungs. Makes you stagger forward and hold yourself by the seams like flesh on plying bone.

But when you look at Leon, he’s everything but as discomposed as you — his eyebrows are tightly drawn, a shadow to his eyes that wasn’t there prior. There’s a bite in his step, in the way he holds his weapon, in the way he surveys the area.

Get yourself together, you think.

Within minutes, you force yourself to straighten your back, swallow back the burdensome bile stretching against your mouth and prime yourself to the futile smell of the dead at every carrefour you cross.

“Ahead,” Leon speaks and clings to your attention.

You look ahead, noticing an array of groaning zombies clawing at a car that seemed to have initiated its alarm. The smell is amplified by the rub of petrol curdling out of the car (from the repeated clash of the zombies, you’re sure) and you frustrate yourself into not gagging — think ‘fucking hell, I really hate these things.’

“You go to the left, I’ll take the right,” Leon whispers and you realise his motive.

Mutual accomplishment built on the precipice of trust.

Still, he looks at you like he’ll splinter without a response.

Like he relies on this circulation, no matter how damning, how short. His eyes scream ‘don’t you dare do anything stupid’ and you choose to blur it into something nonsensical, a thought of ‘it’s common procedure, a set of instructions he needs to hand feed me’, choosing to ignore the obvious side of things, the bleeding flush of his words, the trepidation nailing every withering seam of his body.

He’d grown to interpret you as more than just a rookie, someone capable of vigour and strength of the winning.

He needed you alive.

You needed him to look at you other than a wounded animal.

You offer him some little nod, feet hurrying up to the fluster of zombies against the few cars gathered there — as you get close, you can see the vegetation cram against the side walk, the stink of flesh against the windshield.

But you’re skilled, not stupid.

Your weapon purrs with warmth in your hand as you pin down the first vier, working your second round of bullets with the other five you’ve attracted— their fractured groans are animalistic, orotund where human capability shouldn’t be.

But you’re twice the work than they ever are.

“Fuck,” you whisper, realising close proximity doesn’t hold up with your choice of weapon — so, working against better judgement, you retrieve your knife by the hilt, scoring it against the reeking flesh of the first two. You quickly gain footing and stab the other two point black in the skull, feeling the vibrating collusion fill the blade.

And you’re close — you feel it. With another plow, the last of them falters to the floor with a wet thump. Blood pools at your feet, curdles against the material of your boot as you curl a hand against your hip in weariness.

And yet, you have half the nerve to concern yourself with Leon.

As you turn, you quickly see that he is struggling. He’s cornered, stuck between a stretch of the building that allows a swift gateway of those creatures to buckle within arm’s reach. And there’s little solace as you learn the fact, as you ready your weapon — you’re aiming before you can think, firing before you can feel.

Leon spots you, as his jaw goes slack.

His voice is swollen with disbelief and you’re sure you catch the words “get out of here!” but you’re moving on the pure pump of your blood, of the stretch of muscle and skill in your body. Two, three, four enemies crumble at the bite of your bullet and your fingers sink against the sting of gunmetal.

Memorise the step of their movements.

Formulate an opening.

Ignore Leon’s snare and his warnings and the way his arms curl around his weapon and the look in his eye and the fickle hope in them and the way they look at you like you’re something wounded.

Ignore the way a grunt sounds in your ear, a pale and cleft palm clinching your shoulder like an orifice — and finally, you realise, Leon had been right.

The zombie is quick to remind you of your mortality — it swings you to the side with it’s astounding asperity, frightens you with the dexterity of its bones as it makes quick work of the distance between you. It’s teeth stitch against cold bone, blood and meat between the gaps.

You gasp out a hoarse cry — your weapon is out of reach and your arm stings with a burn, a swelter. Your leg feels numb and you’re sure you’ve caught it on something, and you’re convinced you’ll be half mauled to death, when suddenly,

“Shit!”

Leon rattles through the zombie towering you, sears it with a knife — it falls atop you like meat and you shove it off with awfully numb hands. You’re barely catching respite as Leon hauls you above his shoulder as he runs to some place else, and the world quickly melts beneath your eyelids.

The next time you’re conscious, it’s much quieter.

There’s a dripping noise from your right — you try to play with that recurring sound till you’ve figured your bearings, but the throb in your head is searing. Your leg jumps with a pain so awful you choke a cry when you’re all opened eyed and slack jaw, and you catch sight of Leon in front of you, balancing your leg atop his lap for inspection.

“L-Leon?” you gasp, feel the burn of your throat. You’ve said nothing but he quickly hands you a water bottle, and you allow yourself the contents almost immediately — “Where are we…?”

“A few ways off the target location. Recuperating,” he answers, too quick, too harsh. You wince, both from his demeanour and the growing image of your maimed leg — the skin is dented with much blood, the flesh peeling apart with ease and the pain hits you like a train. His fingers are trembling and spat with your blood, moseying around the quiver of the wound.

And you can’t figure out where your pain ends and where his anger begins.

For one, there’s some grip to his movement, in the way he bandages the broken flesh of your leg. The way he swats your hand away when you go to dictate the amount of hurt it would bring.

Only then does he look up and your breath hitches — his eyes are red rimmed, mouth set like hard stone in a frown and his jaw sharp, blistering to a furious degree.

“I’m sorry—“

“Are you? Because you would’ve been dead without me having been there” he spits out, lashing against your apologetic words. You press your lips together, a bitter feeling fermenting in every space your framework can produce.

“I said I’m sorry Leon.”

“Will that fix your wound?” He grates and his voice sounds like a threat. It worries you. It angers you. Its rends you like glass, cuts you like a skiver.

“Maybe if you didn’t look at me like a fucking wounded animal, I would quit taking my chances at dying” you force out, tone through clattering teeth when his fingers pause over that delicate and awfully repulsive spot on your leg.

“What?”

“Oh, please don’t play pretend with me Leon,” it’s your turn to hit the brakes, “It’s that look you give me — like I’m some backwater D.S.O rookie here to drag you through glass. Like—Like I’m here to get myself killed.”

You pause, breath cut short with an unsatisfactory cry as you throw your head back from the gushing pain from the wound. You crack open a weary eye to spot his movements have resumed, but his jaw is quivering, jagged, his eyes unfocused and his hair in his face.

Shit, shit, shit — I’ve really done it now.

“Wait, Leon—“

“Is that what you think this is?”

You blink — his fingers are on the ground beside your hips, his eyes flooded with disbelief. Much like earlier, only this time, it’s counterpart being woe instead of anger of disappointment. He lifts his head, cradles the anguish in his eyes with a tattered sigh and you realise, oh. You had it all wrong.

“That you’re just some agent I don’t care about?” he’s close, somehow, “that—that I care for you out of duty?” closer, now, with his breath on your neck, on your face, in your ear, “That I don’t want you gone so soon because I only tolerate you? Not because—I like you?”

Your anger drops its futile act.

“What?” you whisper, because you’re so beguiled that it’s a trick. A trick from the pump of adrenaline in you, from the fear. The sweat. But he’s looking into you, at you, and his stare is not sympathetic. It stinks of love and admiration and truth and some close call of fear.

“I’m saying that I like you.”

There’s a few moments of clouded breath. You’ve never done this before — never held this song and dance of emotion between another and certainly not at a time like this, but god, Leon looks at you like you’re something to be worshipped, not admonished like the wounded thing that you are.

He looks at you like hope.

Like love and love and love.

And you’ve never appreciated the stench of rot on you or another, and you’ve never appreciated distractions. But the burn of his lips against yours is delicious and swirling with something addictive when you meet him with nothing but rigour — he kisses you back like he’s meant to, like he’s going to run out of you if he doesn’t.

And when you pull away, groaning as your leg spasms with hurt, you smile at him gently, curve a laugh from your overworked lungs.

“Buy me dinner first, Kennedy.”

“Kennedy?”

“Would you prefer Scott?”

“God, you’re awful.”

© 2023 qvrcll ! do not repost any of my works on any platform.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy fic

[gg-pedro]

can you hear the music (ch. 3) - joel miller x reader

masterlist

summary: everyone in jackson is trying to distract themselves from something. you teach ellie piano and find yourself trying to help more than one miller settle into their new world.

chapter 3: today, it would be sarah's 34th birthday. but today, tomorrow, and every other day, joel needs you.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, jackson!era, joel x reader, AFAB!reader, platonic!ellie x reader, implied age gap, smoochin', gropin', mentions of death, joel grieves, joel sings, arguing/fighting (kinda), mental health discussions, lewdness, angst, heavy feelings (and there's more where that come from!)

words: 3.4k

a/n: man. can u tell I rewatched episode 1? i’m proud of this one. also, I hope this reaches my fleetwood mac lovers.

-

Joel, while in the middle of hauling a bag of horse feed over his good shoulder (and ‘good’ was being generous), realized he was getting old. This was the tenth revelation of the day, give or take. From when he forced himself out of bed onto aching joints, to when he hadn’t heard Ellie come up behind him in the kitchen, and most notably, to when he realized Sarah’s 34th birthday would’ve been today. 

It didn’t sting anymore. Not after this long, not after 20 years. It didn’t even hurt. 

It just ached. 

He sloughed the feed into the trough, stepping back to catch his breath. He glided his hand over the pretty little mare that he usually took out. She seemed too small to not be a pony, but hey, equine standards had flown out the window 20 years ago along with everything else. 

Tommy knew, too. He never forgot. Maybe that's why he patted Joel on the back at breakfast that morning and told him to go ‘take a ride’. Clear his head. They still had work to do today. The Earth never stopped spinning. Joel thought that by now, it should’ve.

To be fair, the date could’ve been a little off, but the air was that same lukewarm cold and the sun shone blinding in a clear blue sky the same way it did on the day Sarah was born. Winter was melting into a tepid spring in Wyoming, and Joel was still here to fucking see it.

For a second he wondered if his vision was going, too, having to do a double-take when he noticed you leaning against the wooden beam of the stall entrance.

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Y’ever heard of knocking?”

You rolled your eyes. “Must’ve missed the door.”

“How’d you find me?” He asked, finally turning to really look at you. Irritatingly beautiful.

“Ellie,” you answered. “Said you were going for a joy ride.”

He sighed, coming over to wrap his arms just below the dip of your spine. “Kid couldn’t keep a secret if her fuckin’ life depended on it,” he grumbled, pausing afterwards to give you a slow kiss.

“I like the honesty. She’s got nothing to hide, especially if it has anything to do with you.” You grinned and fell right into his little ploy. 

“Mmh. Lucky me.”

He had you backed against the wooden railing in an instant, his hand creeping up below your shirt and onto the soft skin of your waist. The touch raised goosebumps all over your body. You placed two hands on either side of his neck, gently, enjoying the way he was feeling you up with his lips glued to yours.

“Now? Right here?” You asked once you had the chance to break away from his mouth. “A little risky, Miller. Don’t forget, I’m still your worst kept secret,” you chided.

“No, not right here. And fuck you.” He pulled away until all but one hand was still stroking your side through your shirt.

“Likewise.”

And Joel loved you. Maybe not in the same way he loved Tommy or Ellie or Sarah, but still, he did. He loved your smart mouth, the way you blazed like a fire in bed with him, your natural talent, the way you made it all ache less. 

And you did– make it ache less. That was reason enough. 

He gestured to the horse that was a few feet away, still eating its breakfast. “You wanna join?”

“Can’t say no,” you said. “What’s the occasion? I thought they were strict about leaving for non-essential reasons.”

Joel was looking at you until he wasn’t, his gaze going right through you. He could tell you. He knew he could. You knew about his daughter and you still never brought it up. You’d lost people too, he knew that. He could tell you and you would bring him into your arms and say something like, I’m so sorry, Joel. I’m here. I’m here if you need me. 

He would tell you. But not today.

He shrugged and pressed a kiss into your hairline. “Just another day. I want you to come.”

“Alright, then.” You nodded towards the guitar sitting in the corner of the stall. Dark stained wood around the edges fading into a lighter mahogany. It was beautiful. “Bringing that, too?”

“Yeah, why not. Here, let me help.” He grabbed it and lifted it over your head, situating it so that the body of the guitar was resting against your back. “You ever played?”

You shook your head. “No. Good thing you do.”

He brought the horse out into the open, making sure he still had everything important– a gun in his pocket and a broken watch on his wrist. He helped you up onto the saddle, sitting behind him and flush with his back. 

Outside the walls, It was a beautiful day. The sun had melted away the heavy snow on the peaks of the rolling hills, the first kiss of spring. New life, grass that had started to green. You had your arms wrapped tightly around Joel’s middle, face pressed against the back of his shoulder. The fields seemed boundless. You hadn’t realized just how infinitesimally small your world had grown since being in Jackson. 

“Are there usually infected around here?” You asked. 

“Not really. The valley helps. We’ll stay out in the open, don’t worry, baby.”

You didn’t even have to ask. The little tour he was giving you around the east end of the fields was mostly an effort to case the surrounding area, his senses on high alert for anything dangerous. The truth was, this place was secure. Still, Joel would move mountains to keep you safe. Would do anything. He’d made mistakes in the past that he wouldn’t let happen again. Couldn’t.

After a loop around the outer wall, riding with a mixture of the horse's friendly canter and Joel intentionally speeding her up to scare the shit out of you and make you hold on tighter to him, he settled on a plateau at the top of a hill, a few steps away from the thick evergreen forest.

After helping you off the mare and spreading out the woven blanket he had rolled up on the back of the saddle, Joel sat down with a heavy sigh. You tied the lead to a low tree branch where the horse seemed content to roam. After, you pulled the guitar over your head and handed it to him.

It was still early in the day, and the sun was barely cresting over the hilltops from this view. 10:42 AM. That’s when his daughter was born. He looked down at the broken face of his watch out of habit, even though the thing had been broken for years at this point. 

You dropped down next to him and your head immediately connected with his shoulder. Looking over at him, his eyes were far away and glassy. “What’re you thinking about?”

Joel shook his head and pressed a slow kiss into your forehead. “Nothin’. Just wondering what I should play.” He brought the guitar into his lap and strummed it a little, pausing to tune the top string down half a step. “Feel like I gotta impress you.”

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “You don’t have to. Who’d you used to listen to?”

“Oh, Jesus…” he had sort of let go of the fond memories he had of old music. With you, though, he was starting to miss it. “Some Zeppelin, some Billy Joel, Pearl Jam… Nirvana was just gettin’ good, too. Lots of Chet Atkins when I was younger.”

You just smiled, moving your hand to stroke his knee. “None of that surprises me.”

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” he asked after a while. “Stevie Nicks, always one of my favorites. My daughter’s, too.”

Your heart hurt a little at that. Joel had never brought up the daughter he’d lost with you. You kissed his shoulder as he started picking the strings to the tune of Landslide, that gentle back and forth that you hadn’t heard in more than 20 years. 

“That's a good one, baby.”

You still remembered the lyrics. He did, too. 

I took my love, I took it down

I climbed a mountain and I turned around

And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills,

‘Til the landslide brought me down

Joel’s playing wasn’t perfect. He’d picked the guitar up again a few times in the last couple weeks, but before that, it had been a lifetime ago. On that radio station in Austin, The Best Of The ‘70’s, this one would come on all the time. Sarah would grin and sing her best rendition, as loudly as possible, always egging Joel on to join in too. Sometimes he would, but not always. He regretted that. 

He thought your voice was beautiful. Clear and bright. His voice was probably an octave below yours, gravelly and out of practice. The two of you mixed together like honey into whiskey. 

Oh, mirror in the sky,

What is love?

Can the child in my heart rise above?

Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?

Can I handle the seasons of my life?

He would’ve liked to scoff at that. There's nothing to do but handle it. Push forward and deal. He didn’t die on September 26th, 2003, despite his best efforts and no matter how much he wanted to. He was here with you. Singing with you, laughing through the verses, watching the sun light up your eyes. And for that? A part of him had to consider himself a lucky son of a bitch.

He couldn’t stop himself from wanting to make a life with you. The extent to which he could see that to fruition, he wasn’t sure. Everything was uncertain. He didn’t even deserve it. Nothing he had done over the past 20 years was worthy of you. But fuck, he could be good. If he tried, maybe, he could be good for you. And trying? It’d be worth it. 

Well, I’ve been afraid of changin’

‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I’m getting older, too

Joel had to stop singing. Tears were swelling in his dark brown eyes and one wrong move would break the entire dam of emotions. He kept playing, though, into the second chorus, happy to listen to you.

Well, I’ve been afraid of–

“Joel?”

You turned away from the landscape to look at his face. Tears were streaking his cheeks, his eyes staring straight ahead of him. You didn’t say anything– you took the guitar out of his arms and brought him into yours instead. You rubbed slow circles into his flannel-clad back, holding him tight as his shoulders sagged and shuddered with every shaky inhalation. 

“I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry," he managed to say.

“It’s okay, Joel. You’re okay. It’s just me, you know I don’t mind. I got you, come on, just get it out.”

You had your own guesses as to what was getting to him so bad. You told yourself a long time ago that you wouldn’t pry. He wouldn’t tell you like that, anyway. He had to do it himself. 

After a few pregnant moments passed with the two of you like that, his breathing finally evened out enough for him to speak clearly. He pulled away from you, taking your face into his hands so you couldn’t look away. His eyes were reddened and puffy, his cheeks wet.

“I ain’t gonna let nothin’ happen to you. D’you understand that? Nothin’. I’m gonna take care of you. Keep you safe. Keep you happy.” He tucked your hair behind your ears before gliding his thumbs over the skin just below your eye. “I will. You just gotta let me.”

You gently pried his hands away from your face, taking them into your own and pressing a kiss into his knuckles. “Okay, baby. I’ll let you. I’ll let you,” you repeated. “I’m safe with you, I know.”

He pulled you in suddenly, practically squeezing all of the air out of your lungs with the grip he had on you. “I promise you. I promise.”

He promised you, and you believed him. 

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills,

Well, the landslide bring it down

Oh, the landslide bring it down

-

At your lesson with Ellie, she seemed more motivated than you did. Sooner or later, she was going to exhaust the entire Star Wars: A Beginner’s Score sheet music book that you had found a few years back. 

After successfully sight reading the first few bars of The Imperial March and promptly declaring that she had had enough ‘piano-ing’ for the day, Ellie gave you a look.

You furrowed your brows. “What?”

“Nothin’,” she said flippantly, looking away from you. “Just– are you and Joel, like, together?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Ellie turned, looking exasperated. “Pft. You know exactly what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes and jokingly shoved her away from you by the forehead. “We’re getting married next week, actually,” you said, laughing. “Mhm, we’re running away with each other. Gonna buy a big white house with a big picket fence down south– you know, to keep you out.”

“Oh, fuck you, dude.” She giggled too, punching your shoulder in return hard enough to push you down the piano bench. “I have a right to know! And besides, I don’t have anyone to tell. I can keep a secret.”

“I disagree, but– if you memorize your F# minor scale by Tuesday, I’ll tell you all about it. Has to be perfect, though,” you qualified.

“Fine,” she said with stubborn resolve. “And… there's one more thing.” Her eyes cast downwards and her shoulders drooped a little as she gave a long exhale.

“What is it?”

She looked back up at you through her dark lashes. “Did you hear about the guy who got hit in the head with a can of soda?”

“The– the who?”

With a completely straight face, she said, “Yeah. He’s lucky it was a soft drink.”

Ellie’s laughter could barely be heard over your exaggerated groaning. You had your head dropped into your hands and Ellie in tears when Joel walked in through the front door.

Ellie, sighing and wiping her eyes, said: “I told her the ol’ soda-can-to-the-head one. Pretty good, right?”

“Jesus…” you heard Joel mutter.

Shiny-eyed and smiling, you pointed to the door. “Out of my house. Both of you. And don’t bother coming back.”

Ellie grabbed her coat and was out the door before Joel could even open his mouth. “See you Tuesday!”

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!”

-

Later that day, in the hot and unusually busy Tipsy Bison, Joel was too drunk.

It was the perfect conclusion to the most bittersweet day he’d had in a while. Had the morning with you, finished up a roofing project just after dinner, and against his better judgment, asked if you wanted drinks. You arrived as a pair, undoubtedly eliciting new whisperings from your fellow Jackson residents, but Joel was starting not to care.

You’d mentioned going out together in passing to him after he had told you about the bar scene when he was younger, commenting on how you wished you’d gotten to experience that. And yeah, maybe this felt more like playing pretend to him than anything, but he wanted to give you good days. Good memories. A real life, where you could experience things with him and not have to worry about how long the happiness would last.

Tonight, it backfired. A year ago today, he would’ve been mixing whiskey and oxycodone to forget it was Sarah’s birthday. But now, he was too drunk with Tommy, and you were watching all of it, and he wished he still had a handful of pills to knock him out. 

“She your girlfriend now, brother?” Tommy slurred, clapping him on the shoulder. 

Joel grabbed you roughly by the waist from his seat at the bar, tucking you in close to him. “Yeah, she’s my girl,” he cooed. “Ain’t that right, pretty baby?”

Tommy chuckled, slamming his glass down onto the counter. “Same way Tessa was your girl? Or different this time?”

Joel wanted to be sick. “The fuck’s wrong with you, asshole?”

You, a little tipsy yourself by this point, smoothed a hand over Joel’s curls in an effort to de-escalate this conversation. “Joel, hey. He’s your brother. Don’t start a fight.”

Tommy shook his head and patted you on the arm. “It’s okay, baby, let him speak.”

Drunkenly, Joel stood up, pointing an accusatory finger at his brother. “If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be saddled with all this shit,” he started. “Always chasin’ your sorry ass. Halfway across the fuckin’ country this time. If it weren’t for you, Tess’d be here.”

This was an old argument, but they were drunk, and it seemed like the perfect time to rehash it. 

Tommy stood up to meet his eyes. “Oh yeah? Really? If it weren’t for me, Joel, you’da had a bullet in your head by now. Oh, y’haven't told her? Your girl? Go on, tell her. Tell her all about Sarah. Happy fuckin’ birthday to her.”

“Keep her name out your motherfuckin’ mouth, you– bastard–”

You had your arm interlinked with Joel’s, but he flung you off of him in an instant. He swung at Tommy, but his aim was a little diluted from the gin and Tommy ducked anyway. He only got one attempt in before five different people were pulling them away from each other to opposite ends of the bar.

You followed Joel, thanking the two men who were restraining him as he shouted strings of profanities and nobody, assuring them that you could take it from here. 

“Joel, you gotta calm down. Hey. Hey, Miller, I’m fucking talking to you.” You grabbed his face in your hands and forced him to look at you. “Take a breath. Just take a breath.”

He did as he was told, but his eyes were still darting rapidly around the room. “Tommy…” he breathed out. “Fuck. I didn’t mean to, I swear. Did I hurt him? I hurt him, didn’t I?”

“No, baby. You– uh, you missed.”

“Ah,  fuck.”

Maybe narcotics wouldn’t have fixed this, either.

Joel let you drag him back to your place without putting up much of a fight. Sarah. She would’ve been ashamed of him. There was a mounting list of things that Sarah would’ve hated him for, and this was just the icing on the cake.

Back on your couch, lying on his back, he wanted today to be over. 

“I was s’pposed to be doin’ good for you,” he said quietly. “Bein’ better for you.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, your voice straining with the force it took to tug off his left boot.

“I’m no good for you.”

“Joel–”

“I ain’t, babydoll. I ain’t. Not for you, not for Ellie, not for Tommy, not for Tessa, and not for Sarah,” he mumbled. “It’s her birthday.”

“I know.”

“I miss her,” he swallowed. “Real bad.”

“I know, Joel.”

There was a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. Landslide was still stuck in his head.

… saw my reflection… snow covered hills …

He shut his eyes. “Is Ellie alright?”

“Mhm. She’s asleep down the street,” you said, tracing lazy shapes into his stomach.

“She’s a good kid,” he mumbled. “Tough kid.”

“She is,” you agreed. “She relies on you– cares about you. Lots of people care about you.”

… time makes y’bolder, children get… older …

Joel hummed in response. “I still need you.”

… I’m gettin’ older, too … 

You bit your lip. You should really get back up, make sure Joel had a glass of water and painkillers near him for when he woke up. Maybe even a bowl from the kitchen. But your body felt like it was being weighed down by lead, and the infrequency at which you actually drank alcohol was making you unfathomably tired.

You laid down on top of him, head pressed against his chest. His breathing was slow and even and his heart rate was calm. 

“I need you, too.”

-

#joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #thou hbo #Ellie miller #Joel miller tlou #the last of us fic #tlou fanficiton #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #Pedro pascal fic #joel miller x y/n #Joel miller smut #Pedro pascal smut #pedrito #tlou hbo

[monstersandmaw]

Male dullahan x gn reader (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

OH boy, this is a personal one for me on a number of levels (which usually means it's gonna tank), but here's the first of my five new commissions - this one is for the incredibly supportive and sweet @doomfisthero.

It features one of the Supernatural Biker Gang I mentioned in this post, which a lot of you seemed to like, so I hope you're keen to meet the cheeky, goofball dullahan with a heart of gold! Not gonna lie, I went way over the agreed wordcount for this one because it's the world I've already started building, and it's got characters I've already been thinking of for a while.

Content: gender neutral reader who experiences severe anxiety around being pranked/practical joked, which occurs at one point in the story. There’s no malicious intent or bullying behind the prank, and it gets discussed afterwards. The reader is a writer, doing research for a story about bikers, and has no idea that there's something a little 'extra' about this gang. Their friend, Adi, is dating one of them already, and I hope to write their story soon too.

Wordcount: 9216

“God, this was such a stupid idea,” you muttered as you approached the only shop on that wide, empty side street. Its metal sign swung gently back and forth in a light, autumn breeze, displaying a full moon on a black background, with a cruiser-style motorbike silhouetted in front of it, and the white, artfully-distressed font underneath it read ‘Full Moon Motorcycles’.

A second later, your friend stepped out onto the pavement and you knew there was no turning back. Adrianne grinned at you, so you kicked your feet back into motion and closed the distance between you, offering her a small hug. Your leather messenger bag bumped against your hip with the movement, and you wondered if perhaps you should have left your notebook and stuff at home for this first time. It felt more like an interview than getting to know them, and you were worried the group of unfamiliar bikers might take offence that you essentially wanted to study them for your novel.

“Ready to meet the gang?” she laughed, sweeping her messy, dark blonde hair back out of her eyes. “God, you look terrified. Come on, they’re nice! Except maybe Pixie. Don’t mess with her, but she’s not here today. Or Demon, but even he’s ok when you get to know him, I swear.”

“Not helping, Adi,” you grumbled.

Ever since she’d started working for Dahlia Ink across town about six months ago, Adrianne had been hanging around with the group of bikers who all got their ink done there it seemed, and it had almost felt like serendipity in action when she’d told you about them over coffee last weekend. You didn’t tend to talk much about your writing, even with your friends, but you trusted Adi, and she’d always been supportive of your career as an author, so you’d shyly opened up to her about your latest idea for a story featuring a group of bikers. You did leave out the part where the bikers in your story were mostly vampires and werewolves, with a few other supernatural species thrown in as well. Fantasy had always been your comfort-genre, but people had snickered in the past and made you feel like it wasn’t a ‘serious’ genre that ‘serious’ writers pursued, so you’d omitted it this time while telling her about it.

“It’s the perfect excuse for you to come and finally meet Țepeș then!” she’d blurted excitedly into the foam of her cappuccino, her green-brown eyes going wide with excitement at the idea of including you in her group of new friends. They all had weird nicknames, and you had no idea if it was a ‘biker’ thing or just a ‘them’ thing, but you’d been burning up with curiosity about them ever since she’d first started dating the one called Țepeș. “I’ve been dying to find an excuse for you to come meet him. Plus you can ask him anything you want to know for your story, and — oh…”

Her face had fallen, and you’d frowned, heart dropping already. “What?”

“Eh, he’s… he’s not completely non-verbal, but Țepeș doesn’t exactly find talking easy. Maybe you could come to the shop and meet the rest of them instead though? I’m sure Pickle or Pumpkin would love to talk your ear off about their bikes…”

“I dunno, I don’t want to get in the way,” you’d said, trying not to let that tiny, kindling ember of hope in your chest wink out completely. “But if you wanted to ask them…?”

She’d run it past her boyfriend, and Țepeș had said he’d ask Hank. Hank, apparently, was the guy who ran the bike shop where they’d all met and first formed their group, and two nights later, you’d got a text in all caps from Adi saying ‘BASIC BIKER 101 FOR WRITERS IS ON!!!! When are you next free?!!!’

A week later, you and your messenger bag with notebook and pens had shown up outside Full Moon Motorcycles, with little clue what to expect, and a heart full of trepidation.

Adrianne giggled as she ushered you inside, and to your relief, you found there were only two other people inside instead of a shop full of strangers. An array of bikes for sale was lined up around the right hand side of the space, and against the back wall there was a wooden counter almost like a bar, where the vintage till and a few key chains were displayed, while the left side of the space appeared to be a more general spot for tinkering and hanging out. Even with the light flooding in through the two huge, picture windows on either side of the door, the lighting was soft, and the polished concrete floor created a mellow atmosphere. The scent of coffee and motor oil hung heavy in the air, and you found it oddly comforting as you soaked it all up.  

Behind the counter, a stocky man with greying, wavy hair that wasn’t quite long enough to tie back but was too long to look tidy smiled you and raised a meaty hand. His blue tartan shirt stretched precariously over a hearty paunch, and he exuded a jovial kind of warmth as his honey-brown eyes crinkled. “Hey there,” he said. “I’m Hank, though most people round here just call me Dad —”

“— he adopts literally everyone who walks through that door, so congrats on joining the family,” Adi laughed.

“Take your pick on names,” Hank chortled. “I understand you’re a writer…” He seemed interested and a little impressed, which was a bit of a confidence boost.

“Yeah,” you croaked and cleared your throat. “Yeah… uh… thank you for letting me hang out here for a bit. I don’t know anything about bikes… I’m just looking to learn a bit so it makes sense for my novel, you know? I’m not going to get in anyone’s way.”

“Oh, you’re fine,” he smiled, gesturing dismissively with his massive paw of a hand. “You just ask what you like and we’ll do our best to help you out. You must know Țepeș already if you’re Adi’s friend?”

You shook your head and Hank looked across the room to where the other person was lurking at the back of the space. You hadn’t noticed Adi leaving your side, but when you turned around, you found her standing with both hands pressed fondly against the chest of the tall, imposing biker dressed all in black and wearing his helmet too, which you thought was an odd choice. But what did you know about the habits of bikers? You were there to learn after all; learn and observe.

Adi waved you over, and you swallowed your nerves and cast Hank a farewell glance before approaching. When Adi stepped back, Țepeș pushed himself off the wall and held out his hand to you to shake. It, like the rest of him, was covered in leather or padded gear. There wasn’t a scrap of skin showing on him anywhere, and with your own face reflected in his black visor, it was impossible to get a read on him.

As if she’d read your mind, Adi smacked Țepeș in the chest with the back of her hand and said, “At least put your visor up, you big, intimidating doofus.”

He snorted a silent laugh and lifted the catch on his visor to reveal a sliver of pale skin and irises as black as the rest of his leather gear. Like Hank’s though, his eyes were kindly, and he closed them briefly as he inclined his head in a kind of apologetic bow. You shrugged, and he laughed breathily.

Hank chose that moment to come over, and you jumped as he clapped you on the shoulders. How a man built like a grizzly in autumn had moved so quietly was a mystery. “Come on, Țepeș, why don’t we give our new friend a demonstration of how a bike works? Since your Ducati is in, why don’t we use that?”

Țepeș gave a quick nod, and ducked away through the door that stood in the centre of the back wall, and a moment later, he pushed an absolute monster of a bike out into the empty space. He jutted his chin towards the front door, and Adi nipped over to open it for him, and when you frowned, she laughed. “That Streetfighter is so fucking loud,” she snorted. “You do not want him starting it up in here.”

“And nor do I!” Hank called, now mysteriously back behind the till though you hadn’t heard him leave. You made a mental note to weave something like that into your story for the supernatural biker characters, and then nodded, feeling sheepish, and followed the two of them out of the shop and onto the quiet side-street outside.

Until six months ago, Adi hadn’t known anything about bikes either, so she used your introductory tutorial as a kind of test for herself, interspersed with little glances up at Țepeș to check that she’d got it right. He either nodded or pointed to correct her, but he didn’t speak. She hadn’t been kidding about him being mostly non-verbal.

After Adi had shown you the basics of the bike’s anatomy, Țepeș patted the seat of the bike and gestured to her to get on it, but she laughed and shook her head. “No way, babe. I’m way too short.”

He put his fists comically on his hips and shook his head, then patted the seat again like he was trying to get a wilful cat up onto a chair.

She made a noise of protest, but did swing a leg over and then hoisted herself evenly into the seat, both legs dangling freely a good way off the ground.

“Happy now?” she shot at him and he nodded emphatically, bringing both hands to the sides of his helmet in a way that mimicked a person losing their mind over a cute kitten. “You’re lucky I love you, you overgrown dork,” she muttered. “Anyway,” she said, turning back to you. “Since this beast has made me get up here, I’m going to start his bike. Not so funny now that I could actually fuck it up, is it?” she grinned.

Țepeș remained perfectly still, and you got the impression it was a comical warning.

“I can’t flat-foot it,” she said to you, “So I’m gonna rest my left foot on the curb after I’ve flicked the kickstand up,” she said. “You can’t start most bikes with the kickstand still down.”

You noted that down, and let her get on with the rest of the sequence uninterrupted, which seemed a lot more complicated than you’d imagined.

Near the end of your tutorial on how to start a bike and the basics of clutch control, and the apparent struggle to find neutral, the sound of a number of approaching engines tore through the quiet afternoon. You looked back over your shoulder to see three sports bikes round the corner and make their way towards you.

The three riders couldn’t have been more different. The one you noticed first was riding a big, brash, bright orange bike that reminded you a bit of a sporty looking dirt bike, and he was wearing, of all things, a black and white cow onesie, with a cow helmet cover complete with fabric horns and ears.

“Fucking Pumpkin,” Adi laughed. “Honestly. I think you’ll love him.”

“Pumpkin?” you asked, wondering how on earth he’d got that name. Then again, Țepeș was a pretty unusual nickname. Perhaps he was a vampire under all that leather, shielding himself from the fury of the sun with his biker gear just so he could spend more time with his human lover during the day… You yanked your over-active imagination back into the present and out of your fantasy novel, and watched the trio of bikers approach down the quiet side street.

“Yeah, Pumpkin’s his name. It’s because he’s a —” Țepeș elbowed Adi in the ribs sharply enough that she had to grab the handlebars to stop herself toppling off his bike. Her eyes went wide and she instantly clicked her jaw shut.

As an author, you were used to watching and studying people, and noting your observations for later. Another writer you knew online had called it ‘cataloguing the everyday’, and it was an apt description. Adi had very nearly given away something huge about Pumpkin, and Țepeș had given her a silent but stern warning.

“Because he loves pranks, like on Halloween?” she finished a little too quickly. “He dresses up with silly helmet covers all the time and he likes to play jokes on people.”

Maybe he wasn’t your kind of person at all. The very idea of having a practical joke pulled on you was enough to make you feel sick and shaky all over. You'd always hated them, and they’d always left you feeling devastated and on-edge if they happened to you. The more you trusted the person, the worse it felt afterwards.

Țepeș’ huge hand landed carefully on your shoulder joint and you looked up to find him smiling reassuringly at you. At least, you thought he was smiling reassuringly. All you could see were his glinting black eyes that were creased at the corners, and the way the apples of his pale cheeks were slightly more squished than usual behind the padding in his helmet.

You tried out a smile of your own, and then realised that Adi was talking again.

“He’s such a goofball, but that’s got to be his craziest outfit yet! You should see his other helmet covers; they’re all bonkers. My favourite is the pink rabbit one.”

Țepeș nodded once in agreement and let go of your shoulder. You swayed a little at the loss, feeling untethered.

“The guy on the red Ducati is Demon, and the short one on the Ninja in the middle is Pickle.”

When the newcomers spotted the three of you standing around Țepeș’ bike, Pumpkin revved raucously, almost seeming to make his bike laugh with joy at the sight of you. Then he hauled it up into a massive wheelie, only dropping back down once he’d torn past you in a near-vertical pose. Your heart was in your mouth the whole time, but he looked relaxed and even amused behind that absurd costume as he landed it and swerved the bike around to make his way back towards you while the other two came over in a more sedate fashion. In fact, they were so sedate it reminded you of two sharks approaching, and your mouth went dry. Adi had said they were cool with you being there and asking questions, but just then, it didn’t really feel like it.

The one riding the lurid, neon green bike was so short that you wondered for a crazy second if maybe they were a child. The owner of the red bike revved his something wicked as he cruised to a stop, and you had to fight the urge to step back. It felt like being roared at full in the face by a lion, and it didn’t help at all that the guy had curling ram’s horns adorning his black helmet. Even though it was a nippy autumn day, he was wearing a white t-shirt that showed off a golden tan and a truly impressive physique, and his black jeans had a rip in the knee that added to his tough-guy appearance.

Standing beside his own bike, Țepeș folded his arms and jutted his chin in a warning. Demon revved his deafening bike once more though, and the back wheel skimmed from side to side on the tarmac as blue smoke churned up into the air.

Țepeș shook his head and a few seconds later, Demon stopped his mini burnout, and instead leaned forwards on the bike, resting one arm casually on the tank. His whole attention was fixed on you and you tried hard not to regret all of this. It was research. You were here for your story. It was fine. His visor was tinted like Țepeș’ was, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze through the plastic just as clearly as if there had been nothing blocking his eyes from yours.

“Just giving a welcome to your new friend, Țepeș,” the guy purred in a silky baritone that made you think of teeth in the dark.

As the brief puff of acrid smoke from his tyres cleared, the short rider flipped their visor up and regarded you with beady, golden eyes that had to be contacts, surely? Even the pupils were slitted like a cat’s. 

“Who’s this?” came a reedy, tenor voice from under the helmet. Definitely not a child after all, and their skin had a strange, greenish tinge to it that you initially took to be makeup until you realised it went all the way down their cheeks as well. Tattoos? Some kind of condition? You tried not to stare.

Before either you or Adi could respond to their question, the cow onesie rider screeched to a comical halt beside the other two, locking up the front wheel and making the rear of his bike kick up like a bronco, and Adi shook her head. “Pumpkin, honestly. What are you like?”

“I’m Legen-dairy!” he grinned, gesturing wide with both hands. “Oh, hey! New friend?!” he exclaimed, waving enthusiastically when he saw you standing awkwardly beside Țepeș’ bike. He had a lilting Irish accent and a playful intonation that warmed you to him immediately, despite knowing about his penchant for practical jokes.

“Don’t mind Pumpkin,” Adi smiled at you. “He’s… something else.”

“I’m highly a-moo-sing, is what I am,” the guy chuckled. His words sounded clearer than the others behind their helmets, and you wondered if it was something about the design that made it easier to hear him.

“Oh god, please stop with the cow puns,” Pickle groaned, casting him a withering look with those unusual eyes.

“But Pickle, I’m udderly fantastic!”

“Stop.”

“This is just plain bull-ying!” Pumpkin whined, and then he started to bop up and down on his bike as he sang, “My milkshake brings—”

“If you howl one more out of tune word, Demon will eat you for breakfast, and not in a fun way,” Pickle said, casting a glance at the biker with the horns on his helmet.

For answer, the biker in question cocked his head just a little to one side, and Pumpkin slumped in his seat, arms and legs dangling comically, head lolling forwards so that the soft horns on his helmet cover flopped. He let out a long, sad mooing noise sound that dissolved into giggles at the end, and Pickle punched him on the arm.

“Loser,” Pickle snorted with obvious fondness.

“Anyway, I want you to meet my friend,” Adi cut in, turning to you. “I’m sorry you had to meet Pumpkin when he’s in this mood, but —”

“Moo-d!” Pumpkin interrupted triumphantly and immediately burst out laughing. He almost tipped backwards off his big, orange bike. Even you managed to crack a shy smile at that one. It was infectious.

“I give up,” Pickle said, and hopped down off his green Kawasaki, disappearing into the shop without a backward glance just as Hank stepped out.

“How’s that lesson going?” he asked you.

“I’m not planning on riding solo any time soon,” you smiled, “But I’ve got enough of an idea of how things work to start writing, I think.”

Hank nodded and, glancing around at Pumpkin who was still bouncing up and down and making his suspension creak a little, said, “Ah, they’re all idiots, but they’re kind, and they’re my idiots.”

He introduced you by name, and told Pumpkin and Demon why you were there. Pumpkin seemed intrigued, tilting his head to one side and calming his crazy energy a little as he regarded you through the tinted visor, but Demon growled softly as he pushed himself upright again and folded his arms across his ripped chest, muttering something about letting their guard down again.

Țepeș moved away from his bike, petting the back of Adi’s blonde head in a fond, distracted gesture, and then signalled for Demon to follow him inside, which, to your surprise, the big guy did. He walked like a Greek god — like he owned the place and not Hank — but it was clear that he had respect for Țepeș.

Pumpkin took advantage of their absence and leaned a little way off his bike towards you. “So, you’re a writer? That’s pretty cool. And you’re writing a… a book? A story? About bikers?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the main focus, but it’s a big part of it.” If you hadn’t wanted to open up to Adi about it being a supernatural fantasy story, you sure as heck weren’t going to admit it to a bunch of intimidating, high-octane bikers. “It was Adi who suggested I come and learn a bit more about it all from you guys though…” you said, not wanting them to think you’d just inserted yourself into their group without invitation. Especially given Demon’s weird reaction.

“Awesome,” Pumpkin said, fist-bumping Adi then turning back to you. “You gonna ride with us? We’re all heading out in a bit so you should come too!”

“I… maybe?” you faltered. That had not been on the cards for the day, but the more you thought about it, the more your heart began to race.

“The KTM has a passenger seat,” Pumpkin said, gesturing behind him and patting his pillion seat. “You can be my backpack if you like! I promise I won’t wheelie. I’m not taking the onesie off though,” he added, mooing and shaking his head so that the fabric horns waggled comically.

His energy and enthusiasm really were infectious. He bounced up and down again like an excitable, cow-print puppy, and you bit your lip. The idea of holding onto him, of being perched on the back of his mad, orange bike, was oddly… enticing. Even with his embarrassing costume.

“Come on,” he said. “It’ll be fun! It’s only a short ride because Coco’s Honda’s playing up for some reason,” he added. “Is she here yet? I don’t see her little bumblebee…”

“Bumblebee?” you asked.

“Coco’s bike is a Honda Hornet,” Adi supplied. “She’s got these little antennae for her helmet too. It’s so cute. And no,” she added to Pumpkin. “You guys are the first.”

It didn’t take long for the rest of the day’s riders to arrive, and soon you watched a screaming pink bike roll up, with its rider wearing baby pink leathers and a pink helmet. Her name was Barbie, appropriately enough, and a few minutes later, a skinny guy in all black leathers with a black helmet bearing a decal like a maw full of teeth pulled up, alongside Coco on her black and yellow Honda Hornet that looked very much like the Transformer.

“I see why you call it Bumblebee,” you said to Adi, who was standing on the pavement with you, chatting and slipping you random bits of information about both the bikes and the bikers. The others had all gone inside, leaving you with Adi still casually sitting astride her boyfriend’s enormous, black Ducati Streetfighter outside in the sunshine, and honestly it was nice to catch your breath and let your heart rate settle again.

Pumpkin, apparently, was only a few years older than you, and he had moved to the city to get away from his family and their career expectations for him. His name was actually Callahan, or Cal, but literally everyone called him Pumpkin.

Pickle was non-binary and surprisingly a full decade older than you. They lived with their mother, who needed a bit of extra care these days, and had taken up riding only a year or so ago. Demon, Adi didn’t discuss at all, and she said little about Barbie other than that she kept herself to herself a lot and was pretty shy.

Coco came out to soak up some autumn sunshine a while later, and was one of the only bikers who actually took off her helmet. Beneath it, she had thick, wavy, chocolate brown hair and brown eyes that made you want to drown in them, and a smile so pretty it made your heart skip several beats. She gave off the kind of energy that made you feel safe and relaxed, and you let out a long, slow exhale, feeling the sun wash up over your skin.

That peace lasted until Demon stormed out of the shop, followed by Pumpkin, Țepeș, and Pickle.

“Everything ok?” Adi whispered to Țepeș when he came over and hugged her tightly from behind before passing her a spare helmet. He nodded and jerked his thumb towards his bike. “Yeah, I’m good to go. You coming?” she asked you, and you found yourself nodding before you’d even realised.

“Yes!” Pumpkin bayed in triumph and you startled, not having heard him return to his bike. “You’re mine! I claim you. You’re my backpack!”

“Like anyone else wants a human for baggage,” Demon muttered so quietly you weren’t sure you were supposed to have heard it. As he passed, he slammed his visor back down and you could have sworn that he’d had completely scarlet eyes. You wondered if you were losing your mind a little bit, or if the fantasy of your novel was beginning to bleed into the real world through your over-active imagination.  

Pumpkin practically vaulted back up onto his orange bike and he held out his hand to you. “Alright! My precious and beautiful backpack,” he said, “Hop on!”

Easier said than done, you thought, ignoring the compliment. You watched your reflection distort in his visor as he turned his head when you faltered anxiously.

“I’ll look after you, I promise. But I’m gonna rely on you to tell me if Pickle’s coming for my killswitch, ok?”

Recalling your brief lesson with Țepeș, you eyed the red switch on his right handlebar and said, “That?”

“Yeah, that. Protect it at all costs,” he giggled. “I mean, not all costs, obviously but… Actually, scratch that. It’s Ninja you wanna watch out for. He’s a sneaky, sneaky boy. He blends in so no one sees him coming…” A few of them laughed in a way that made you feel like there was more to it than just an inside joke, and your stomach churned.

A glance back at the skinny guy on the black bike behind you revealed Ninja tilting his hands outwards in a ‘who, me?’ kind of gesture. Hank came over and gave you a helmet, taking your messenger bag from you and promising to keep it safe behind the counter. You slid the helmet on and buckled it up, trying not to feel like an impostor.

Getting aboard wasn’t as hard as you’d thought it was going to be, with brief instruction from Adi and Pumpkin on how to put your feet on the pegs, though you did clunk your helmet against Pumpkin’s when you leaned too far forward, but he made things easier by telling you to hold him round the waist. He turned back over one shoulder and said, “It’s kinda forward, but I don’t mind. You’re cute and I don’t want you falling off.” He had such a lovely voice — warm and rich and reassuring — and you found yourself laughing softly.

“If you say so.”

Pumpkin talked a mile a minute and you really had to work to process everything he was saying as it tumbled out of him in a wild, happy torrent. “You are cute! You’re gonna have a blast today. I can’t believe I’m your first! Oh, and watch out for silly string too. I don’t think Pickle has any in their pocket today, but last time they got me good and it was all over my helmet and my orange baby,” he added petting the tank of his bike.

Your heart lurched at the idea of these pranks maybe escalating, and you tried to swallow down the nausea; you did not want to be sick in a motorcycle helmet. The cold sweat took a while to evaporate and you were sure Pumpkin would feel your heartbeat as you clung onto him before he’d even started the bike. The cow onesie did add a little levity though, and you tried not to feel too silly.

When Adi was safely aboard Țepeș’ bike, Țepeș revved his readiness a few times from the rear of the group, and Pumpkin nodded. “Forward!” he yelled, pointing like he was leading a cavalry charge as he nudged up his kickstand and prepared to draw away.

Adi had been right.

The ride was amazing.

Terrifying, exhilarating, wonderful, and, in the strangest way possible, it made you forget everything.

All you could focus on was the way Pumpkin moved with the bike like it was a part of him — almost like a rider and his horse — and on trying to move with him as he leaned into the corners. He was slim and fit beneath your grip, and he didn’t seem to be wearing any kind of padding under the onesie, but he was wearing biker boots instead of ordinary shoes. There was something alluring about the fact you’d not seen his face and he’d not taken his helmet off. Țepeș had a similar vibe, but it was Pumpkin and his wild, silly energy you found yourself drawn to. It was almost euphoric to be able to press the front of your body against this kind, funny stranger’s back and let him sweep you along the roads.

Of course, there were shenanigans at the first red light you came to.

Pickle came for Pumpkin’s killswitch immediately — almost like they were testing you — but you tapped Pumpkin on the shoulder when you saw Pickle stalking up the line of bikes. Ninja covered his killswitch and waggled a finger at Pickle, and when Pumpkin saw who was coming, he patted your thigh a few times. “Nice one,” he said with a grin evident in his voice. “Best early warning system and best backpack ever! You can ride with me every time!”

You glowed with pride, even though you knew it was probably only fun and games, and when Pickle failed to catch Pumpkin’s killswitch and the lights changed, you laughed with the rest of them as Pickle bolted back to their Ninja and hopped comically onto it at the very last second while Pumpkin sped away fast enough to make you yelp and grip him hard around the middle. You felt him laugh and held him tighter.

He petted your hands where they were laced securely in front of him, and even though you didn’t have comms in your helmet, you got the message: ‘I’ve got you’. You did feel safe with him despite his love of pranks, and you were literally trusting him with your life as you rode behind him.

When the ride came to an end about an hour later, and the group drew to a halt at Full Moon Motorcycles again, you were shaky with the aftereffects of adrenaline and from simply holding on, but beneath your helmet, you were grinning wildly. Secretly, you already couldn’t wait for the next ride and prayed he would ask you again.

Pickle pulled their bike up on your right, the green Ninja 400 idling gently, and when they killswitched Pumpkin’s bike at last, Pumpkin guffawed, but without missing a beat he extended his right leg and tapped the gear lever down to put Pickle’s bike into first, making the bike stall and lurch forwards.

“Gotcha!” he crowed, and then helped you off the back by letting you steady yourself on his shoulders. “And for the pièce de résistance,” he said, fishing in the pouch of his onesie, and he turned something cylindrical in your direction. “I was saving this for Pickle, but since it’s your first ride, you deserve a decent celebration!”

With a loud bang and a flurry of coloured squares of paper, a confetti cannon went off in your face and you screeched in shock, tripping over your heels and landing hard on the pavement behind you. The pieces of paper fluttered down around you while panic and fear and everything you hated about being pranked exploded out of you. Your heartbeat went through the roof. You just glimpsed the horns of Demon’s helmet in the doorway to the shop, and your heart dropped when you saw he was laughing.

Pumpkin was laughing too, and pointing, and beside him Pickle clapped their gloved hands and crooned, “Oh man, he got you good!”

He had got you good, and you hated it.

You hated that it was just a silly, harmless prank, but you were reacting like he’d done something serious. You hated that you couldn’t just laugh it off the way they all did. You hated that you took it so seriously; that it felt like the worst kind of betrayal of that fragile trust you’d started to put in a stranger. And then, behind the visor of your helmet, the tears began to flow uncontrollably.

A huge figure appeared in your blurred vision and you looked up to find Țepeș kneeling down beside you. He blocked the others from your sight with his massive body, and he lifted his visor to show his black eyes full of concern.

You nodded, trying to pull yourself together and grateful beyond belief that the helmet was still covering your face, even though it felt like you were running out of oxygen in there. Pulling yourself together was like trying to hold a bag full of sand with fraying seams. You were seeping and spilling out all over the place and you couldn’t stop. You tried to tell yourself it was just a confetti cannon. You tried to tell yourself it was just a bit of fun.

You tried, and failed.

“I’m… I’m ok… I’m…” you gulped, aware of how choked your voice sounded.

Țepeș stood and held out a hand, pulling you to your feet and ushering you carefully inside. You didn’t miss the way he put himself between you and Demon, who was still snickering in the doorway, and you let him lead you into the shop and into the back room.

He snagged a box of tissues from under the shop’s counter in passing and guided you into a chair. He signalled for you to undo your helmet, which you did with shaking fingers. “I’m sorry,” you gulped as you drew it off over your head and set it on the floor. “I’m sorry I’m overreacting.”

Țepeș shook his head and squeezed your shoulder, offering you a tissue.

“It’s just a prank, I know that, but…”

Again, he squeezed your shoulder, and you took a deeper, steadier breath.

“I hate pranks. Even the harmless ones. I always overreact like this. I’m sorry. It’s not his fault, but… I thought… I thought maybe he… he wouldn’t…”

A knock on the door made you jump, and Țepeș made a ‘stay there’ gesture with his hand and ducked out of the room. A short, seemingly one-sided conversation passed outside while you fought to control yourself again, and then Pumpkin ducked inside.

“Hey,” he said, and your heart broke a little at the change in his energy. It was like he’d completely deflated. He was still wearing the cow onesie though, which brought a slightly hysterical chuckle to your lips before you could stop it. “I’m so sorry,” he said, dropping to one knee in front of your chair. “I… I didn’t think you’d react like that.”

“It’s not you,” you said, sniffling and turning away, cuffing at your eyes. “I just overreacted.”

“You didn’t overreact,” he said, and your brain screeched to a halt.

“What?”

“I shouldn’t have done it to you. I didn’t know if you were cool with it, and I just assumed that… that because everyone else likes my pranks… that you’d be ok with it too, and I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. I promise I’ll never ever pull anything like that on you again. Ever.” He crossed his thumb across his heart. “I swear on my True Name.”

The wording was odd, but the air seemed to crystallise around you for a second, and your breath caught. “Like a Fae,” you mumbled without thinking.

He tilted his helmeted head a little. “Yeah,” he said and his voice had an odd ring to it. “You… You know about… about the Fae?”

“I’m writing a book…” you croaked, not really thinking about what you were saying. “Supernatural theme… I’ve always written fantasy stuff… Look, I’m sorry. I’m over-sharing about stuff that isn’t even real. I’m good,” you said, and stood up abruptly, setting your borrowed helmet down on the chair and turning to look at him. He was on his feet again, but he was just standing there.

You walked out into the main shop but he called your name and you halted and turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Are… Are you gonna come back?”

You bit your lip. You probably had enough to write the book now — the biker part of it wasn’t even the main focus after all — but until the prank, you’d felt included and welcomed, and, as you thought about it, the prank had also been meant to welcome you into the fold. It wasn’t Pumpkin’s fault that you had reacted the way you did.

“You want me to?” you asked.

“Please,” he said. “Please, I’d love it. I’ve… I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted to be my backpack before, and you rode like a natural today,” he added, taking a step towards you. “Please. I promise no one will do any pranks when you’re with us. No silly string, no confetti cannons.”

“I don’t mind it… With the others, I mean,” you said, the words grinding out of you like a boulder uphill. “I mean… So long as it’s not me.”

“Ok, we’ll dial it back,” he compromised. “I’ll even give you one of my little stretchy sticky hands if you like so you can team up on Pickle with me. We duel at the lights sometimes. Does that count as a prank?”

You shook your head, fighting back a resurgence of emotions, mostly good this time.

“Ok. I’m really sorry,” he said again.

“I believe you,” you said.

“Thank you,” Pumpkin replied, his whole body looking relieved. It was amazing how expressive someone could be, even without being able to see their face. “Let me give you my number and I’ll text you when we’re going out next. Or… Or maybe we could go out just the two of us?”

That seemed like way more pressure than you’d been expecting, but you nodded all the same when you realised you weren’t put off by it at all.

As you left the shop not long afterwards, having recovered enough to let the red fade from your eyes, Demon looked you up and down and then approached Pumpkin. You glanced back over your shoulder to see him looming down over Pumpkin, and you just caught him growling, “What happens when you need to take that helmet off eh, Dullahan? You think that cute accent is going to be enough to hide the fact you don’t have a fucking head under there?”

Your breath caught and you tripped, turning away before either of them could notice your reaction.

For a moment, when Demon had spat the word ‘Dullahan’ you’d thought he’d said ‘Callahan’ — Pumpkin’s real name — but the instant he’d said Pumpkin didn’t have a head, your mind made the connection.

Dullahan.

A Fae without a head, traditionally a headless horseman.

The way Pumpkin had moved with his bike, like it was a living creature, had reminded you of a horse and its rider, and you had to wonder if the nickname ‘Pumpkin’ had come from the cartoonish depictions of Dullahans on Halloween with a pumpkin for a head instead of their real one. They did have a head, you knew from research for your writing, but they tended to keep it hidden since that was where their power resided. They could only be harmed if you hurt their head, or if they were wearing it when you attacked them.

But that was all fantasy, right?

Then Demon’s red eyes flickered across your memory, and the weird emphasis he’d put on the word ‘human’ in his snide remarks, and the way you’d thought maybe Țepeș was a vampire because he kept his skin covered up, and the fact that Pickle’s skin was entirely green and they had gold eyes with cat’s pupils… it was all way too much of a coincidence. Right?

You walked home in a daze, not even saying goodbye to Adi who was talking quietly with Țepeș in the long, late afternoon shadows cast by the bike shop’s wall.

Over the next few rides with Pumpkin, you tried to figure out a way to broach the topic. If you just blurted it out, you had no idea how the others would react, so you dropped little hints to Pumpkin that you were writing a supernatural story and that you’d been researching the supernatural for a while, and how you’d always hoped there was more out there than met the eye. You even mentioned it a couple of times on group rides to see how the others reacted, and predictably, it was Demon who bristled, and Pumpkin who looked uncomfortable. Like he had a secret he wanted to tell you.

Each time you did it, he looked torn, like he was right on the cusp of telling you the truth.

It finally came to an ugly head one afternoon as the riding season drew to a close in late October and you all came back from a huge group ride that had included a few more riders whom you’d not met before, but who evidently knew the rest of the group.

As you went inside to return the helmet that Hank always lent you, you caught the sound of an argument and hung back in the small storage room behind the main shop to avoid it, heart in your throat and the helmet forgotten in one hand.

Pickle was standing in the main area of the shop with their helmet dangling from their hand this time, and you gasped when you saw sharply-tapered ears and a row of pointed teeth in their mouth, and green skin that went all the way down below their collar. Definitely not a tattoo. They looked sharp, their features inhuman; like one of the goblins in your novel. If you’d needed confirmation that they weren’t human, this had to be it.

Pickle was  arguing with Adi and Demon, and Pumpkin was there too, looking helplessly from one to the other of them.

Demon was shouting, and he didn’t have his helmet on either. Perhaps they’d thought you’d already left. The horns that adorned his helmet were… actually attached to his head, not his helmet. He had horns. They obviously grew from his hairline, his black hair waving around them like a river of oil that had a rainbow sheen on it, and his eyes were a luminous, blood-red with slit pupils too. He rounded on Pumpkin like a Wolf on a rabbit. “You think just because we let Țepeș’ little human blood-bag in, we can risk exposing us all to just anyone?” Demon snarled. “I thought you wanted to keep our kind a secret? Now you’re siding with him?”

“Hey!” Adi exclaimed, but Pickle’s lip curled and they turned to her.

“He has got a point, Adi, though the blood-bag comment was way out of line,” Pickle said. “We have to be careful, but —”

“This is different,” Pumpkin interjected. “Ok? I’ve never been in love before, and I love —”

“No. It’s not fucking ok! This is the one place we get to be who we are,” Demon countered, his deep voice cracking as he clearly fought off tears. He sounded afraid and upset in a way that went right to your heart. “This is the one place where we can be safe, Cal, and you’re jeopardising it for all of us. And if we start letting humans in, if our secret gets out —”

“I think it’s a little late for that,” Pickle said faintly, staring straight at you watching the argument unfold, stunned. They were arguing because of you. Because Pumpkin had taken a liking to you — in fact, he’d just said he loved you…

A pair of gold eyes and a pair of scarlet eyes stared at you, while Adi stood there hugging herself and looking hurt and unsure, and Pumpkin was standing stock still with his black helmet still on but you knew he was looking at you too. Was he going to defend you, or discard you and stick with his friends? They weren’t human. None of them was human. Demon’s eyes were blaring a violent red and he had horns growing out of his black hairline and curling back over his head, and there was a watercolour patch of red creeping over his golden tan as if he was losing control of his form. And Pickle was apparently some kind of goblin?

“You’re a Dullahan,” you said quietly, looking at Pumpkin. “A Fae.”

“You know?” Demon hissed, taking half a step towards you. “How the fuck do you know?” and then he shoved Pumpkin back with a hand at each shoulder. “You’ve taken your helmet off already? Did you disclose your head’s location while you were at it?”

Pumpkin shook his head vehemently but then he lifted his shiny, black helmet off in what looked like an act of defiance to Demon.

In the void where his head should have been there was a swirl of bluish-green smoke emanating from the stump of his neck, like the aurora in the night sky, and his skin was a dark, slate-blue colour. Your mind struggled to accept what you were seeing, but with the additional evidence of Pickle’s green skin and Demon’s horns, you knew it all had to be true.

Walking closer, as if moving through a dream, you ignored Demon’s constant, caged-animal growl, but you did jump when the door flew open and Țepeș burst in. He strode straight over to Adi and wrapped his arm protectively around her shoulders, tugging her close and putting himself between her and the others. He cocked his head in an impatiently curious manner and Adi answered his silent demand.

“Demon’s laying into Pumpkin about flirting with a human while hiding what he is,” Adrianne said, glaring flatly at Demon. “And he called me your blood-bag,” she added.

Țepeș’ fists curled, leather creaking, and he took a long, slow inhale, as though he was trying very hard not to lose control and launch himself at Demon.

Before anything else could happen, someone clapped their hands abruptly from the side of the shop where the till and the bikes were arrayed, and you all jumped.

Hank was standing there and his eyes were glowing golden. “This family is built on trust,” he said in a low, gravelly bass, and you saw that his canines were chunkier and longer than they usually were, and his hair seemed thicker and fuller, his beard a little bushier around the chops. “And if we welcome each other into it, we must be prepared to trust each other’s judgement.”

“We’re just a little research project!” Demon said, rounding on you. “Adi told you what we are, didn’t she, so you thought you’d come and study us like a science experiment?”

You were still staring at Pumpkin’s empty collar and wondering in an odd, detached kind of way where it would be considered polite for you to look now — did you look at the point where his eyes would be if he had a head, or did you look at his chest? Only a second or two later did Demon’s words filter through and you blinked. “What?”

“You’re writing a fucking book about us! How does that count as trustworthy?”

“I’m not — It’s not about you,” you shot back. “The book isn’t about you. The protagonist is dating a vampire who’s in a biker gang, but… Adi didn’t tell me anything at all about you. I didn’t know you weren’t human until… until I overheard you accusing Pumpkin a few weeks ago. You said something about not having a head under his helmet, and you called him a Dullahan.” You swallowed thickly and watched the shock filter through everyone’s expressions at your words. “At first I thought you were saying his name, but then I realised you said ‘Dullahan’, not ‘Callahan’, and because I’ve looked into supernatural stuff, I put two and two together. I’ve known for weeks,” you said, chest heaving as you fought to maintain some semblance of composure while you finished your defence. “I could have said something, or I could have just not come back, but I trusted you guys.” Tears finally blurred your vision. “You treated me like family. Why would I betray you?”

Pumpkin moved first.

He strode across he space, dropping his helmet on the floor with a loud crack that would have made anyone who needed a helmet to protect their head wince, but you figured his was purely for decoration and disguise anyway. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you close to his body. His arms almost lifted you off the ground and he cradled your head in one hand while his left arm curled around your waist and squeezed you so tight you gave a little wheeze.

His voice came from nowhere in particular, just like it did when he had the helmet on, and he said, “You are family. And I love you. If I have to leave this one to be with you, I will.”

Your heart stopped for a moment before you hugged him back, desperately. “Don’t. Not for me.”

He only hugged you harder.

From somewhere off to your left, Hank gave a low, rumbling growl and then muttered, “Kids. Honestly.” Then a little louder, he said, “Demon, go and cool off somewhere. Țepeș, for God’s sake, stand down, and Pickle, go and put the fucking kettle on. I need a cup of tea with half a bottle of whisky in it after all this drama.”

Pumpkin drew back at last, and you looked up at the haze of blue-green smoke that seemed to swirl upwards in a constant stream, like a recently extinguished candle. “How can you see me?” you asked. And then, with a little more alarm in your tone, you yelped, “Wait, how can you see where you’re driving?”

He laughed and leaned in close enough that the aurora-light swirled across your vision and caressed your face with a feather light breath, and you shivered. “Magic,” he whispered.

Demon hadn’t gone anywhere, and was regarding you with a more level gaze. His eyes were still red though. “You knew?” he said. “All this time?”

“Yeah,” you croaked as you refocused your eyes from the magic of the Dullahan’s body to Demon’s very much corporeal body. “I mean, I suspected.”

He sighed, still staring you down. Pumpkin stepped a little in front of you, much as Țepeș had for Adi, but Demon shook his head. He worked his jaw for a second and then slowly held out his right hand. His skin was red instead of the golden tan it had been, and his nails were black and claw-like, but the gesture was one of reconciliation all the same. “Welcome to the family, I guess,” he muttered hoarsely.

You smiled faintly, and Pumpkin took your left hand in a show of solidarity, sliding his gloved fingers around yours while you briefly shook Demon’s hand. “I really didn’t know what you guys were when you said I could come and hang out with you, I swear.”

“I know,” Demon bit out. “I can taste a lie, and you’re telling the truth.”

With that, he stalked away and carefully slotted his helmet on over his horns. You realised that there were specially-tailored holes in the crown of it for the horns to fit through, but when it was on, some kind of glamour made it look like the horns were just attached to the surface of the helmet. Outside, he swung a leg over his Ducati and started it up, revving it and launching away amid a scream of tyres and over-worked engine.

“Give him time,” Pumpkin said as he looked down at you. In the swirl of the smoke at his neck you thought you could make out the features of a face for a moment, but you blinked and it vanished. “You’re family now though, so he won’t give you any more trouble.”

“He did just insult Adi pretty spectacularly,” you pointed out.

“And he’ll apologise to her,” Pumpkin said. Țepeș loomed threateningly beside Adi in silent agreement. “For now, you want to come for a ride with just me? Come back to my place maybe?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

“Bet you have questions too…”

“You going to fact-check my novel for me?” you asked with a playful smile, and Pumpkin laughed. It felt right to hear his loud, giggly laughter filling the space again.

“You’d actually have to let me read it for that, love, and you said you didn’t like showing your work to anyone until it was done.”

“I could make an exception for you, I guess,” you admitted with a bashful smile.

With Pumpkin still holding your hand, you paused on your way out to check on Adi, who looked a little hurt but otherwise alright, and you promised to check in with her later. Țepeș handed Pumpkin his helmet, and you let yourself be led from the shop. Your helmet was still in your slightly numb fingers, never having put it down, so you slid it back on with shaky hands.

After climbing with familiar ease back up onto the pillion seat of Pumpkin’s orange KTM, you snaked your arms around his middle and squeezed.

“I’m sorry it all came out this way,” Pumpkin said before he started up his bike. “This was not how I planned to tell you. I had no idea how I was going to break it to you, but that… that wasn’t it. I know you hate surprises, and that was a big one.”

“Not all surprises are bad,” you admitted. “And this one turned out ok in the end. Come on. I want to find out how much I’ve got wrong about the Fae.”

Pumpkin guffawed, his laughter audible even after he’d started up his bike and pulled away.

Turns out, you’d quite a lot wrong about the Fae after all, but Pumpkin was only too happy to put you right over pizza and a movie on his sofa that evening.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one. If you did, please consider reblogging to show your support as well as leaving a like and/or a comment.

Do you want to see the other members of the group? Remember you can find out more about them here in this early post if you're curious. Tepes already has a love interest, and Ninja the mimic is claimed too, but if you're curious, lemme know!

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#supernatural biker group #dullahan #male dullahan #dullahan x reader #reader insert #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster biker #fantasy biker #biker dullahan #demon #vampire #werewolf

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Could you possibly do a fluffy Rhys x reader where reader has always been kinda independent and has never really experienced someone wanting to help take care of them and spoil them until Rhys came along?

Let me take care of you.

Rhysand x f!Reader.

Warnings; swearing.

Masterlist.

I hope this is how you imagined this!

Growing up as the middle child of your family you had no choice but do anything alone. Your father was always spending time with your older sister, caring for her and making sure that she had everything she wished for. Your mother on the other hand was always babying your younger sister. When you were eight years old you learned how to make snacks when you got hungry, how to make your bed and how to wash your clothes. You always played with your older sister's damaged toys and wore her old clothes since your parents never bothered to buy new ones for you. It wasn’t that they didn’t have the money, when your younger sister was born your mother filled her room with several toys and clothes. As you grew up you started working at a bookstore and after a while you managed to save enough money to move to your own place. Your parents never tried to get in touch with you and even though it hurt, you continued your life like they never existed.

One evening as you were closing the bookstore a handsome male approached you. He was dressed casually but you could still see how elegant he was even in his loose clothes. “Excuse me do you know where the store owner is?” his deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You looked at him and almost gasped when you noticed his violet eyes. The High Lord.

“Uhm probably at his house.” You replied.

“Oh, did he say something about a book? He told me to come today to pick it up.” He spoke.

“No he didn’t mention it.” You started unlocking again “Come in maybe he left it somewhere.”

He nodded and followed you inside. “Thank you for doing this.”

“No problem” you smiled and checked the counter and the drawers.

“What’s the title of the book?” you shouted from under the counter.

“Beasts of Prythian” he answered, and your breath hitched.

“No its not here. Maybe he forgot?” you said softly “I can write it down and ask him again tomorrow.” “Oh okay. Thank you” he smiled and as you stared at his sharp face and those violet eyes that shined under the light of the stars the bond snapped.

That was how you met your mate, the High Lord of the Night Court -Rhysand.

He came the next day and asked you on a date and now a year later you are packing your things to move in his house.

You glanced at your apartment for one last time thinking about the life you are leaving behind and how much Rhysand changed it.

On your first date he appeared at your door with a bouquet of red roses making your heart skip a beat. No one had ever gifted you something and you had to use most of your power to hold back the tears of happiness.

“This is for me?” you had asked softly.

“Well I’m not planning to take someone else on a date and even though I’m amazing I don’t usually buy myself flowers” he had rolled his eyes with a playful smirk.

“You arrogant High Lord” you had snorted.

He took you to a nice restaurant and when the waitress guided you to the table, he pulled a chair back and waited for you to sit. You hadn’t realized that he was waiting for you, so you pulled the chair across him and sat down. He stared at you, and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Oh you pulled the chair for me?” you had asked him.

“Its okay” he had replied with a tight smile.

“I can get up and come sit there if you want.” You mumbled scared that you offended him. “No no its fine I’ll just sit here.”

That night he escorted you back home and left.

Your thoughts kept running to the times he did something like that.

When he came to your house with a bottle of wine, and you spent the night cooking and talking. He kept insisting to help you make dinner and afterwards he made the dessert alone, making your heart swell as he offered you a plate with a feline smile.

When he found out you were having nightmares and asked Madja to make a tea that would help you sleep peacefully. You had looked at him like he had grown a second head when he gave it to you.

When he bought you a gown for solstice after he invited you to meet his family. You had offered to repay him, but he shook his head.

“Let me spoil you my love” he had said, and tears streamed down your face.

The next day you used your savings to buy him a nice quill.

“So you will think about me when you work.” You had said and he chuckled.

“I always think about you.”

Rhysand practically gave you everything you wanted, if you stared at an item for more than five seconds the next day he would come to your house and give it to you.

At some point you felt so bad, like you were using him, so you stopped looking at the store windows. Even then Rhysand would get you the most amazing stuff.

“I saw it and I immediately thought of you.”

“Oh come on this screams y/n”

“I dreamed of you in this, you will look amazing. I can’t imagine another female wearing it.”

“This was made for you”.

And always you would furrow your eyebrows.

“Rhys you’re spending all your money on me. I don’t need more clothes or at this point anything.”

“Let me take care of you.”

You gave up and bought a second closet because your old one was full.

It wasn’t only the things he bought you though. Rhysand could always understand your mood. If you were happy, he would immediately take you to Rita’s or for a stroll in the city. Sometimes he would even arrange game nights with his family.

If you were sad though he would make you dinner and spend the day cuddling you, and telling you that everything is going to be alright.

One day one of your coworkers was being rude to you. You had decided to ignore him until your shift ended and then put him in his place. Rhysand came to pick you up and overheard you coworker saying. “Being the High Lord’s whore doesn’t make you better than us.” You had opened your mouth to tell him off when he knelt in pain, holding his head with both his hands and crying. Rhys strolled in with his hands in his pocket and a cold expression.

“Say that again” he had growled.

Your coworker couldn’t speak.

“Rhys its okay I can handle this” you had said.

“No!” he snarled “say that again”.

When he didn’t reply Rhysand crushed his memories and pulled you out of the store.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles Rhys. I’ve been doing it my whole life.” You had screamed.

“This means nothing. It’s finally time for someone else to take care of you. Your parents may have been useless but I’m not! You’re my fucking Queen.” He had screamed back, his dark power trembling the whole city.

That night you cried in his arms, letting all the trauma out and accepting the new life he was offering you.

“Ready?” your mate asked as he hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I think so.” You sighed and stared at the open door of your apartment from the outside.

“Let’s go then.” He said and closed your door. You smiled thinking how fitting it was for him to close the door of your past life.

“I love you” you softly said.

“I love you too.” He replied and grabbed your bags.

Hope you enjoyed this!

#acotar #acotar series #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #high lord rhysand #rhys acotar #rhysand x y/n #night court #the night court #velaris #city of starlight #acowar #acomaf #acosf #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin

[ponderingmoonlight]

Yoriichi saving you just in time from getting killed by a demon

Pairing: Yoriichi x midwife!reader

Word Count: 4k

Synopsis: Your job takes you to the poor Kamado family, who are expecting their first child. But instead of a joyful birth, you are greeted by the cruel claws of a demon. What luck that an extraordinary swordsman shows up on this fateful evening.

Warnings: near death, injury, child birth, I'm not a midwife mystelf so this part isn't that detailed, lots of angst but comfort, this is my first demon slayer fic EVER so please show some support, I really appreciate it 🤍 (added 2 additional pics into the fanfic because I'm so amazed by the insane quality of these ai pics)

Tags: @froufrousnowman

„Excuse my rude interruption, but is this the Kamado residence?”

You are exhausted, sweat dripping from your forehead on this warm summer day, the sun shining down on you with all its strength. But you were called here, so you came. After all, this is your job. As a midwife by heart, you fear no weather when it comes to aid another woman by delivering her child.

“Yes, I am Sumiyoshi Kamado. Are you the midwife we were calling for?”

The man in front of you smiles at you kindly. You can tell by one look into his inviting eyes that he’ll be an amazing father. But before that, you have some work to do.

“That’s right, my name is (y/n). May I see your wife?”, you ask kindly, taking off the package of tools you were carrying on your back.

“She’s sleeping at the moment, but please allow me to lead you inside. Would you like to eat or drink something? I just cooked dinner!”

The excitement dripping from his voice really warms your heart. In times like these, gifting a child into the world seems like a burden, like an impossible task. It was in no way granted that an expected child was in any way welcomed. You’ve seen it all, the horrible things father and mother would do to prevent the new life from existing, how fate itself decided to stretch its hands out and take the child away from this earth way too soon. You’ve seen tears of joy, tears of grief, tears of despair. But oh, just one loving look of fresh mother and father into their babies’ tiny face is enough to make it all worth it for you.

“How did your wife feel within the last days? Did she complain about pain, especially in her back? Bleeding? Did she have to defecate more often than usual?”

Carefully, you place your tools onto a white cloth and disinfect your hands with strong alcohol when entering the room.

“She looks very peaceful, that’s great”, you hush.

What a beautiful woman she is, laying on her side with her hands covering her belly even while she sleeps safe and sound. Instinctively you kneel down next to her, gently caressing her cheek.

“This is your first child, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And I am beyond grateful you decided to help her even though we aren’t able to pay you decently. I wish I could give you more-“

“Please, don’t worry about it. I really enjoy being here. And if it helps your wife, no coins in the world are a better reward”, you interrupt with soft voice, looking down at her one last time before getting up and silently leaving the room along with her husband.

Your eyes dart towards the small window. How lovely the sunset looks today. Is it already this late? You must have been traveling for quite some time. As if on cue, your stomach begins to rumble. Well, maybe a cup of tea and something warm to eat would be a blessing right now.

“I am a little nervous. After all, I know nothing about the birth of children and how to care for them afterwards. But I love my wife so dearly, imagining a little child with her eyes truly makes me feel whole. Do you have any children yourself?”

What a kind man he is, sitting opposite to you with a cup of tea in his hand and his eyes glistening in the down-going sun. Despite the cruelness of the world, the tales of demons hunting down humans with what seems like no aim, all the bitterness and tears, this man was able to keep his warm smile and optimism.

“No. While I do adore children, I am not married. It’s hard to find a man willing to marry a midwife”, you explain briefly.

There is no sense in denying the fact that you are of low birth, a self-taught midwife since no man was willing to teach you. And in a world full of gorgeous young girls with skin like porcelain and kimono’s worth more than your housing, you will never catch the attention of a male. But somehow, you’ve found your inner peace with that. After all, helping other woman to finally receive their own little family fills you with enough joy to overlook that you’ll never have a man or a chid by your side yourself.

Confident knocks against the wooden door rip you out of your conversation.

“Are you awaiting someone?” you question.

Within the village you live in, it is told over and over to not leave the house after sunset. And while you don’t consider yourself superstitious, not going out when it’s all dark always seemed plausible enough for you. But now, the sun almost set, the trees around you barely lighten by the weak beam.

“No, but maybe it is someone who needs help.”

You get up from the ground, mindlessly holding onto the cloak in your hands tightly while holding your breath. It might be someone in the need of help. But out here in the woods, who knows…Shivers run down your spine, eyes staring at the door filled with curiosity.

The sight in front of you isn’t one of a robber, an old lady in distress or a demon though. Your orbs widen slightly. No, this is a man. And what a man he is.

The way he carries himself with so much peace and elegance. He looks…majestic. His fuchsia eyes lay upon your host. And even though you don’t understand from afar what they are talking about, you can tell that his firm but calm voice could tame entire oceans. What a remarkable perfect face he has, the only interruption being a scar covering his forehead. So elegantly clothed with a katana attached to his belt? You draw a little closer, take in his sight a little clearer. He looks like one of the men you’ve seen before in your village right after a whole family was brutally killed during night. He was armoured with a katana too. Could it be?

“Are you a demon slayer?”

You want to curse yourself for speaking to him so ruthlessly, for interrupting their conversation so harshly. But you’ve got so lost in his sight that it seems your mouth opened itself.

“Indeed. This is a riskful area. Keep your doors and windows locked during night time and do not leave your wife unattended. Please don’t roam around the house on your own and stay with your husband”, he instructs towards both of you.

Why does he look at you while calling you “wife”? You blink a few times when realization slowly but surely hits you. Oh. Your face reddens instantly, eyes snapping towards your host in pure shock.

“Oh, you misunderstood! She isn’t my wife, but the midwife that will help my wife delivering our firstborn. She’s sleeping at the moment”, he explains calmly while smiling at you.

The stranger’s eyes lock with yours, you can’t help but hold your breath. From all the men you’ve seen come and go in your lifetime, he definitely is the most captivating one. Is it because of his flawless appearance, because he carries himself with so much elegance? Or is it the calmness that radiates from his voice, the power you’re able to sense on him? Maybe nothing, maybe both.

“That is very kind for you. I will stay in this area tonight, but please look after yourself”, the stranger continues, glancing at you one last time before turning around and heading back into the woods.

“Thank you!”

“What an interesting man!”, your host comments towards you, closing and locking the door like he was told you.

“Do you believe in demons?”, you question.

His eyes darts towards you, the positive spark in them gone for the split of a second.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of deaths that happened during the night, terrible massacres with no one surviving. I am firmly convinced that a human being could never to something like that.”

“Humans can be cruel too”, you argue, pictures of all the horrible things you’ve seen within the years you’ve been working as a midwife flooding your mind.

Sometimes you can’t help but wonder who the real monsters in this world are. The demons, the wild animals? Or humans who pretend to be on top of the world, who tear down everything and everyone when they feel like it?

“That is correct. But we are trying our best, right? And that is all that matters for me.”

“It’s getting late, I should look after your wife. Is it alright if I rest with her for today?” you mumble, fingers fumbling with the white cloak to distract your mind from the stranger, from his words, from this whole conversation.

“Of course! I will prepare everything!”

You sign to yourself, gaze glued onto the woman laying in front you sleeping peacefully. Everything will turn good, right?

-at night-

Your eyes shoot open immediately, roaming around the dark room. There they lay, bodies intertwined with each other while being fast asleep. What was that fade away rustle you’ve heard, then? As quietly as possible you lift yourself off the futon Kamado-san prepared for you, naked feet greeted by the cold of the wooden floor underneath. Maybe you just dreamed it. Or is an animal outside? Given the fact that you are located in the middle of a forest, this wouldn’t be a surprise. You furrow your eyebrows, a fade away cracking from outside catching your attention all over again. No, something is off, you can sense it by the way your guts turn.

Instinctively, your hands grab the knife with which Kamado-san prepared your food just a few hours ago. You are by no means an experienced fighter, you have been skilfully avoiding situations like this your entire life. But waking up both of them over nothing would be ridiculous. Just a little glimpse outside the door, just to check on what’s probably a deer. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, palms sweaty in response.

With your free hand, you grasp the handle of the door. Breathe in, breathe out. Tame your pounding heart, get a hold of yourself. With a swift motion, you swing it open.

And get greeted by a pair of venomous red eyes.

There is no time to react any further. Not too late you are able to escape his grasp, naked feet carrying you further inside the forest.

“A demon! There’s a demon outside! Get into safety! A demon!” you scream on top of your lungs.

Please, let Kamado-san hear your desperate cries, let him drag his wife into safety. The disturbing tall and crippled figure of the demon draws closer to the house, closer to the soon to be family.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Sympathy, a protective instinct? Whatever it is forces you backwards, right into the claws of the demon.

“I can’t allow you to harm a single soul in this house”, you hiss through gritted teeth, holding onto the knife in your hands for dear life.

How is it even possible to kill a demon? Do you even stand a chance against it? It doesn’t matter now. You slash forward with a cry of determination, aiming for its carotid artery. The cut doesn’t have to be deep if you hit him with enough precision, your muscle strength should be enough.

But before you are even able to come close to his body, his claw slices open your right arms with ease. Your eyes widen in pure horror, body unable to move even an inch. It moved so fast you weren’t even able to see its hand moving, sliced you open so effortlessly while you’re gasping for air like a fish on land.

Your body falls to the ground, the demon positioning itself on top of you. No, you won’t let it end like this. After all, you still have plenty of work to do, Kamado-san’s wife didn’t deliver her child yet. With full force you push your arms against it, trying to keep your keep your face out of its gaping mouth.

With one push you free your arm, yanking the knife into its eye. Now or never. While its loud groans fill the air with fright, you get off the ground, run deeper into the forest, desperately try to stay alive. You can’t die like this. Not you, not Kamado-san, not his wife, not their unborn baby.

But the demon is right on your tracks, hunting you down the dark forest without any mercy.

“Ouch.”

 A moment of inattention is enough for you to stumble over a thick branch, knees meeting the floor harshly. Is this your end? All you can do is stare up, glossy eyes widen in the dim moonlight with a tiny trail of its blood on your face. Hopefully the demon slayer from last evening will return soon enough to at least safe Kamado-san and his family. If not you, at least they need to survive.

There you kneel, face gone emotionless, orbs directed towards the frightening creature that lunges towards you. One hit. One hit of its claws will be enough to behead you. One second and your life will be nothing more than a fade away whisper in the darkness, ended way too soon just like so many others. You never thought it would be you, that of all the people you’d get killed by a demon slayer. After all, you were always so skilled in avoiding trouble, never allowing yourself to get into danger.

But oh, now you are. And it will cost you your young life.

Yoriichi can’t catch his breath, feet carrying him so rapidly to the scene laying itself out in front of him that the trees around him merge. He told you to stay inside, to keep windows and doors shut. Why are you outside? Where are the man and his wife? Please, let it not be too late, let him be able so safe those people.

Finally. With a determined slash of his blade, the demon in from of him gets beheaded, its ashes raining down onto the ground. You look…uninjured. Frightened, in pure shock, but uninjured. And unbelievably lovely with the dim moonlight highlighting the delicate features of your face.

“Are you alright?” he questions softly, slowly approaching you and stretching out his hand.

Carefully he lifts your trembling limbs off the ground, your hand holding onto his for what seems like dear life while your sharp and heavy breaths hang in the cool air.

“Yes”, you finally breathe out.

“Are the other two alright? Did someone get hurt?”

“There are inside. It was only this one. I lured him away”, you huff.

 Yoriichi swore himself to never get close to another human being again, to fulfil his duty in silence. But you…Did you really risk your life for a family you didn’t even know until yesterday? Did you run into the woods so selflessly to distract the demon? What a brave woman you are, truly remarkable.

“I was hoping for you to return”, you add.

His warm hand feels almost therapeutic against yours, calming down your tingling nerves and beating heart. You survived. Is this really possible? While kneeling down and staring right into the face of that frightful demon, you already accepted your fate. But that he’ll show up like a knight in shining armour, saving you just before getting beheaded…It seems like a miracle to you.

“I came here as fast as I could. This area was full of these creatures”, he explains briefly, fuchsia eyes resting on you.

“(y/n)!”

A thick stone falls from your heart. It’s him.

“Kamado-san, is your wife alright? Are you alright?” you blabber, the man sprinting towards you as if his life depends on it.

“You saved us. Even though you don’t even know me and my wife, you risked your own life to save ours. And you…You really came. I’m beyond thankful.”

He falls to his knees, leaving you completely speechless.

“She really was outstanding brave. Normally the sight of a demon alone is enough for most humans to lose their minds. You are exceptional, (y/n).”

It sounds so strange, hearing your name out of this charismatic stranger’s mouth. But the way his eyes lock with yours sends shivers down your spine, makes your heart pound against your ribcage all over again.

“What is your name?”

“Yoriichi Tsugikuni.”

Yoriichi. What an exceptional name that matches his majestic appearance perfectly. It seems so easy to get lost in his eyes, to study every inch of his face. And his smell…

“I don’t mean to interrupt your conversation, but I think my wife will deliver her child soon.”

Your eyes dart towards Kamado-san immediately.

“Why are you saying so?”

“Since she woke up from your screams, she seems to have contractions.”

You don’t think twice. As fast as your feet are able to carry you, you sprint back into the house, back to the reason why you originally came here.

-the next morning-

“Sleep well. You deserve it”, you whisper into the woman’s ear gently, wrapping her up inside a blanket before leaving the room discretely.

The birth went smooth and faster than you expected for a first born. Not long after you arrived by her side, she delivered the baby with tears of joy running down her face, her husband telling her over and over how much he loves her. It was bittersweet, seeing in front of your very own eyes what you’ll never have. Just after encountering him, just after those strange feeling that he triggered in you.

“I’m glad to see you are alright.”

You stop in your tracks, staring at the back of him in disbelief. There he sits, facing the sun while his broad shoulders catch your attention all over again.

“I’ll make some tea”, Kamado-san discretely announces before hushing into the house.

“I am in no way responsible for the miracle that happened tonight. That was you and Kamado-san’s wife”, you explain briefly, sitting down next to him.

The sun caresses your skin gently. You never thought its hot beams would calm your nerves before the incident of this night. You smile at the little bundle of joy Yoriichi is holding in his arms. Oh, how well it suits him. Someone like him must be a good father.

“I’ll be leaving after I had a cup of tea. It wouldn’t be right to keep eating for free here”, he announces all of the sudden.

“Don’t say that.”

Out of instinct, you place on hand on his firm shoulder and wrap the other around his strong biceps.

“You saved our lives tonight. It if hadn’t be for you, not only would we be dead, but this child you’re holding in your arms wouldn’t be born, either.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

Your eyes freeze, unable to tear away from his beautiful sight. Why does he make you feel this way? What is it that makes this stranger so special? Is it his sword skill, his ability to fight? No. In fact, you couldn’t care less about that. It’s the way he carries himself, the elegance within every step he takes. It’s the fact that he sacrifices himself for others.

Just like you do.

“Like what?” you hush.

“As if I am some kind of special person. I don’t deserve the affection you hold in your gaze.”

“You deserve every spark of affection for your being”, you argue.

“You’re wrong about that. I failed to protect anything that was important to me. And throughout my life, I was unable to do what I was supposed to do. I am worthless.”

“How could you even say something like that? How could you talk about yourself so negatively after saving four lives this night?”

“Because of the countless lives I failed to protect.”

“So what? Does it make be a bad midwife that I wasn’t able to save every single child? The losses are tragic and never forgotten, but as long as we are doing our very best, there is nothing to regret. Tonight, you were able to save a young family. You should be proud of yourself instead of talking you down.”

He stands up, handing you the new-born carefully before grabbing his sword.

“Are you about to leave?” Kamado-san questions from afar, storming outside with tea in his hands.

You thoughtlessly hand him is son, eyes directed towards the charismatic man in front of you.

“I have to leave now. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Wait!” you shout all of the sudden.

You don’t know what has gotten into you, but there you are, running after him and grabbing his hand just like you did this fateful night.

“Will I ever see you again?”

For a moment, time seems to stand still. He can’t believe his ears, usual tame heart almost beating out of his chest. When was the last time a woman ran after him, the last time a female even looked his way? He can’t remember. But especially you…Why would a woman like you be interested in a broken man like him? What do you see in him?

“Why would you want that?”

“I can’t tell. I just know I have to see you again”, you reply automatically.

The air between both of you seems thick enough to get cut by his knife, your eyes almost piercing through the back of his head. Please, just say something. Just move, turn around, smile. Just do anything besides standing still. Never in your life did you even think about the possibility to get to know a man better. Why him? Why a man you didn’t even know before last evening? Why someone who seems so unapproachable?

“You will see me again.”

And with that, he’s gone in the wind, leaving you with your feelings all over the place.

-a few months later-

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come”, you comment, resting your head against the cool grass.

The weather changed. As soon as the evening arrives, it’s getting way too cold outside to stay for long. But when he’s here, none of that seems to matter.

“You know I always do. How was your day?”

He lays down next to you, closing his eyes for a brief moment while you position your head on his shoulder. Oh, how much you loved these innocent little meetings. After you returned to your little village, Yoriichi found you wherever you went. Always keeping an eye open for you, staying longer from meeting to meeting. Until you randomly laid down in the grass the whole evening, talking about your life and eventually, got even closer. Innocent touching, him drawing circles on your back while you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeat.

“The baby I delivered today, they were actually twins. Two healthy girls, the father almost fell unconscious when he found out.”

Your cute little giggle lights up the air around him and fills his heart with joy he hasn’t felt in a long time. Being happy seems so easy since he got to know you.

No. It’s far more than simply knowing you. The feelings he holds for you go far deeper than that.

“I love you, (y/n).”

Your heart skips a beat, gaze darting towards him the second those magical words leave his lips. Did you dream that? Are you really resting in the meadow with Yoriichi telling you none other but that he loves you?

How much you longed for this sweet moment, how often you thought about saying those words too. Without hesitation, you press your lips against his.

While the world around you seems to fall apart, at least this is fine. Yes, laying here in Yoriichi’s arms while tenderly kissing him like you’ve always imagined makes everything around you whole again.

“I love you too”, you whisper against his lips.

Who would have thought going to work and almost getting killed by a demon would turn out this nice?

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