#I changed his forehead ribbon like four times already

[1895locktva]

"Right now, the one under the tree is Lan Zhan. If I am to fall downwards just as I did back then... If, if he catches me.... Then I'll..."

[spirallingstarcases]

i’d love to know about mask au!! is it like jim carrey’s the mask???

not exactly! this was supposed to be my peterick halloween fic but. life. yeah. it’s a masquerade/trickerella au where pete drops a sheet of poetry at a party patrick’s performing at and the next day (the party is like three consecutive days) the band is playing songs with GASP pete’s words??? and then pete sets off on a mission to find out who made music out of his poetry and yeah. i love love love this concept but i was in such a slump when i started it that i don’t rly like looking at it anymore rippp OH AND PETE WEARS A FOX MASK AND PATRICK WEARS A BUNNY MASK the prey/predator dynamic makes me cccrraaaaazy

ssssnippet

Pete’s dad spared no time for his responses. “I brought your costume.”

That’s when Pete noticed the large white box in his dad’s hands. It was like a shoebox, the ones with the lid you slip off and on. Unblemished and unembossed, so it wasn’t designer, but it was special. Or expensive.

“But I brought my costume.” Pete pointed at the black garment bag on the bed. On top of it was a small box that held his mask. “Remember it? I wear it every year, been wearing it for, like, four years?” Gold mask, black suit, the works.

“It’s time for a change.”

Pete’s curiosity was piqued. He reached out for the box, grunting in surprise at its weight as his dad placed it in his arms.

“Jesus,” he said. “What’s in this thing, chainmail?”

“Don’t be foolish,” Pete’s dad said. “I got it tailored for you, so it’ll fit. Try it on, I’ll be downstairs waiting for Andrew.”

Andrew was his older brother, heir to the immense Wentz fortune and therefore all the fuckery that comes with it. Pete didn’t envy him. Andrew didn’t particularly yearn for Pete’s life either, so it all worked out. Pete wasn’t built for the corporate life of New York, and Andrew wasn’t built for the glitzy, glamourous (heavy sarcasm here) music label life of Los Angeles.

The box slid open without a noise, revealing layers of crisp tissue paper which Pete tore past with barely a thought. Finally, his hands slipped past the fibrous texture into something hard and…furry.

Hm. Pete blinked, a cautious frown tugging at his mouth. Surely his dad wouldn’t…like…buy him a fursuit, right?

Pete stared nervously at the box. No way. Pete’s dad was a respected, high-level, Fortune 100 CEO. He probably didn’t even know what a furry was. Appeased, Pete slid the last layer of tissue paper off.

Okay. So. Maybe Pete needed to reevaluate his father some more, because he was now staring into the empty eyes of a fox mask. Granted, it wasn’t a fursuit mask, and it was actually quite delicate and beautiful, and it was a perfect fall colour, but really. A fox? As a Wentz, Pete had been called, time and time again, sly and sneaky and all those other fox metaphors, so this felt quite…well. On the nose, for lack of better wording.

Pete gently traced his fingers over it. It was a half-mask, with a protruding snout and ears, a distressingly real-feeling fur texture, and edged with gold filigree. Red and gold glass beads swirled over the forehead and under the eyes, glinting in a way that suggested mischief and glamour. Gold lines formed nonsensical patterns on the cheeks, along the snout, and around the eyes.

It was gorgeous. Pete forgot all about the implications, focusing instead on how fucking gorgeous it was.

Pete slowly lifted it out of the box, feeling like the protagonist in some highschool prom story, when the girl is wearing a dress, The One, and goes to look at herself in the mirror and gasps, “I love it.”

It was lighter than it looked. A vermillion ribbon for keeping it up, a little sponge pad to pad his forehead, and his name embossed under the eye socket. Pete set it on the bed, excitement already stirring at the idea of being able to wear it.

So maybe his dad wasn’t a furry. Maybe his dad was a genius.

Under the mask was more tissue paper, which Pete tore away to find fabric. Maroon fabric, dark and sultry. Pete was not surprised to find that it was a suit, three piece with a vest and everything.

Pete’s eyes flickered over the coat. It was longer than your average suit jacket. Pete guessed it would probably hit around his knees. Gold embroidery lined the cuffs and collar, forming intricate patterns that were fascinating to look at. Gold buttons, small and shiny, peeked out at him, winking as if they were laughing.

The vest had a heavy, darker brocade pattern embossed on it. It was barely visible, until the light caught and revealed the designs. Pete traced over the floral pattern, impressed at the feel of the silk under his fingers.

The pants were the simplest, just a pair of maroon slacks. Pete noticed the brocade pattern from the vest around his ankles, and the coat’s gold embroidery making another appearance around the waistband.

Pete’s dad was a genius. Pete highly doubted his dad actually came up with this. He made a note to send a fox themed thank-you gift to Aleena, his dad’s coordinator and assistant. She had a couple of kiddies, right? Pete wondered if they were still young enough to appreciate stuffed animals. Markedly, stuffed foxes.

Pete’s fingers, still tingling from the smooth glide of the silk, clenched into fists. He had never felt so…excited for the annual Halloween ball.

[bokutosworld]

home sweet home | hq boys with their kids! 

character/pairing: msby black jackals boys with their kids - hinata, atsumu, bokuto, sakusa!

wc: 1.5k words, pure fluff!

summary: when they finally get a much-deserved break from volleyball, there's nothing that the boys want more than to spend time with their little ones. but what do they do if you're not around for the day?

a/n: inspired by my fave korean show the return of superman! i just cant stop imagining how the boys would be like if they were left on their own with their kids<3 hehe

part two with schweiden adlers trio here!

---

HINATA SHOYO He wakes up feeling warm. When Hinata opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the sight of his adorable son laying peacefully on his chest. He brings his hands to ruffle his messy hair, the little boy pressing his cheeks closer to his father's body. It's been a long time since Hinata felt relaxed in the morning, and he honestly thinks that he could stay in this moment forever. But after a few minutes, he finally gets up and stirs the little boy in his arms awake.

"Dad? Where's mom?" Seiji asked, his bright, inquisitive eyes mirrored Hinata's own and he felt proud that his son took after him. He explains that you were off to your parents' house for the weekend and this makes the five-year-old pout. Despite looking a lot like him, Hinata knew that Seiji was a mama's boy and, though he wouldn't admit it, sometimes felt jealous that you were hogging all of his son's attention. So he was over the moon to have time alone with the boy.

"But don't worry! The two of us will have a great all-boys weekend," he declares. All of a sudden Hinata lifts Seiji over his head and places him on his shoulders. The little boy then got excited, starting to loosen up and laugh as they ran out to the living room. "Wow, look at that, Seiji, you are flying!"

With his dad's hands carefully holding him tight, Seiji felt safe and extended his arms in the air as they playfully circled the house. When they got tired, the two boys collapsed on the sofa. Hinata reached over his to mini-me, wiping some sweat that has formed on his forehead, "Are you hungry now? What do you want dad to make for breakfast?"

Seiji looks up at his dad expectantly, waving his fists excitedly with a big smile on his face, "Can we do that again?" And Hinata happily complies, already looking forward to a great father-son bonding.

MIYA ATSUMU "Papa, can we pwease go to Uncle Osamu's shop today?"

This was the third time Atsumu heard the request from his daughter. The four-year-old has taken a strong liking to his twin, and while Atsumu mostly finds this endearing, he wonders if she likes Osamu better than him. He takes the little girl from her sitting position on the floor and sets her on his lap, brushing some strands of hair that have fallen.

"Aya, do you like Uncle Osamu more than me?" As if on instinct, the little girl shakes her head. Worried that she might hurt herself, Atsumu cups her cheeks to stop her movement, but only to be shocked to see that tears are threatening to spill from her doe eyes. Shit, he thinks. "Okay, darling. Don't cry." He brings her to an embrace in an attempt to calm her down. "Let's get you ready, huh. We'll ask free food from Uncle."

When the door to Onigiri Miya opens, Aya immediately goes to Osamu's side, slipping past the counter and running to his open arms. Osamu lifts her up, "Hello there, little girl. Do you want to cook with me today?" She beams and nods her head enthusiastically, waving a hand to her dad who was standing by the door. "Hey, 'Tsumu. Just take a seat wherever, we won't be long here!"

This was the fourth time this week that they have been to his brother's shop. At this rate, he might as well have Aya sleepover with Osamu and let her spend time with her cousins. He opens his camera and takes a selfie, along with a message that he sends to you. Back at Uncle Osamu's again. She loves food just as much as you, it reads. He hears a bell coming from the kitchen, followed by a pitter-patter of footsteps. When he looks up from his phone, he sees Aya running towards him holding a plate with a small riceball on it.

"Papa, look! I made it for you," she excitedly tells him. Atsumu is touched by the gesture, taking the plate to place it on the table and tacking his daughter in a hug. He peppers her cute face with kisses and Aya is giggling, her laughter fills the Onigiri Miya shop. Osamu smiles and takes a photo of the father and daughter.

"I'm so happy, Aya, thank you." Before Atsumu eats it though, he makes sure to take a photo of her masterpiece. Our little chef made this, he proudly captions it before sending it to you.

BOKUTO KOUTAROU When you left Bokuto alone with your two kids, he was confident that he can handle them on his own. But boy, was he wrong. The whole house has been turned upside down with the seven-year-old Naoki jumping all over the place, and the two-year-old Suki crying on her baby chair. Not to mention their golden retriever barking to add to the chaos.

Sighing exasperatedly, Bokuto approaches Suki first, taking her from the chair and swaying to calm her down. He's having a staring contest with the dog, Tama, as his eldest son continues to wreak havoc. Then an idea pops up in his head.

"Naoki, what do you think of taking Tama out for a walk?" The playful boy stops in his tracks, turning slowly to look at his dad. Bokuto moves closer to him and grins. He knows how the young boy has always wanted to walk the dog, only you were opposing in fear that he might let go of the leash. But Bokuto has complete trust in him, and if things go south, he could always chase the dog. He crouches to his son's level, looking at him in the eyes, "We'll keep it a secret from Mom. What do you--"

Before he could even finish his statement, Naoki was already putting on the dog's collar and leash. Bokuto smiles and walks to the kids' room to change Suki's clothes. He pulls out a baby pink dress and carefully dresses his daughter. He also pretties her up, tying her hair in two ponytails with pink ribbons. When they finish getting ready, the trio proceed to walk in the park.

He notices that Naoki is much more behaved and more mature this time, thinking that he definitely looks the part as an older brother. Feeling much more at ease, Bokuto walks with a spring in his step, subtly bouncing the little girl who is strapped to his chest. Suki giggles at his father's actions, and he can't help but kiss her forehead.

"Hey, dad," Bokuto hears Naoki quietly call out to him. He sees the big smile on his son's face and feels like a proud dad. "Thanks for letting me walk Tama." Oh, you bet he was going to brag to you about today.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI Sakusa and his six-year-old daughter, Shiomi, were currently taking a vacation at your parents' house. As much as you wanted to come along with them, work held you up and you had to send off your daughter and husband, wishing them a good time in the countryside.

It's been three days and the little girl has been enjoying time with her grandparents. Sakusa could feel his heart warming whenever he watches her helping her grandmother doing household chores or when she is sitting in the garden and reading a book to her grandfather. He knows how you never want to miss a moment of your daughter's life so he sends you random snapshots and videos throughout the day.

He was lounging on the tatami in the living room, a book in his hands, when Shiomi came running to him. The little girl tugged on his hand, "Papa, come with me! We're planting a tree!" Completely smitten by her, he puts down the book and goes along with her to the back garden.

Shiomi helps him put on some gloves and hands him gardening boots. "Wear these so your feet don't get dirty!"

As soon as he wears them, the two of them proceed to get their tools and start working in the garden. Time always seem to pass quickly when one is having fun, and before Sakusa knows it, they have planted three sprouts of trees and sowed vegetable seeds in the family garden. He glances at Shiomi who is still full with energy, her eyes shining as she proudly looks at her work.

Sakusa hurriedly takes out his phone. "Honey, come here." He beckons her, and removes his glove before wiping a towel to her face. "Let's show Mama what we did today."

Shiomi goes to the other side of tree, pointing at it before displaying the widest grin. Sakusa sets the front camera and their faces are shown on the screen. With the biggest smiles on their faces, he takes a photo and sends it to you, the caption reading: We missed you. Planting is fun!

[maxburnett]

fool in the rain, Chris Evans:

pairing: fem!reader x Moms Best Friend!Chris Evans

Written for Chris's 40th Birthday!

genre/warnings: Fluff/Romance/Smut This fic involves smut! If you are under 18 please do not interact with this fic. Age gap (Chris is 40, reader is in her 20s), slight innocence kink, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, cockwarming after sex.

words: 1,591

summary → It's Chris's 40th birthday and a massive storm has halted his original plans. You decide to bring the party to him.

It was a horrible storm. The fierce, howling winds had already taken down a limb of an old tree in front of Chris' house. It now laid across his front lawn. The rain was pelting down, lashing against the windows and bouncing off the pavement of the road by his house. This was the worst storm that Boston had had for years, and sadly it coincided with his 40th birthday.

It was a quarter past four that afternoon, but with how the sky was filled with dark clouds blocking out the sun, it seemed so much later. So when he saw the flicker of car headlights in the driveway, he watched in disbelief as a black Volkswagen pulled up into the driveway.

"You're insane! You shouldn't be out in this weather," he shouted aloud as he opened his front door to his house.

"Mom said you had texted her and said that you felt alone this year. So I decided to come over, Mr. Evans. Plus, you only have a birthday once a year, and I'm not going to let you just mope around the house all day with nothing to do," You called out as you dashed from your car.

You ran up the porch steps and scurried past Chris. Your (Y/H/C) hair was drenched and hung limply over your shoulders. You were wearing a red nylon jacket, which was also soaking wet.

"I thought I told you," Chris said as he walked up behind you, placing an arm around your waist. "Call me Chris, Sweets," he said with a smirk as you were taking things from a bag and shooed him away.

You walked towards the kitchen table. In your hands was a birthday cake in a plastic cake carrier. The cake was coated with white frosting, with blue flowers around the edges. Written in red frosting on the top of the cake was "Happy Birthday, Chris!" Over your shoulder hung the strap of your purse. Dangling from your left wrist was a white plastic bag, which obviously contained something. You dropped it and your purse onto the table.

"Happy birthday, Chris," you said as your eyes met Chris' blue eyes as you turned from the kitchen table. Then, you walked towards him, wrapping your arms around him as he smiled down at you and lifted you up, and placed you on the edge of the kitchen table.

You and Chris had been seeing each other behind your mom's back for about a month. Nothing had happened up until that point but a few heavy makeout sessions. He and your mom were friends in college, and he had been close with your dad before he and your mom got a divorce. He never showed an interest in your mom, but he had always flirted with you when she wasn't around. Of course, you could always come over, and your mom wouldn't suspect anything.

"Happy birthday, Chris," You said as your eyes met his, and he leaned down and brushed his lips roughly against yours for a moment before he pulled and leaned his forehead against yours as one hand stayed around your waist. His other touched the icing of the cake, which he brought up to your lips.

"Thanks, Sweets, but I never really expected you to come out during this storm. But, unfortunately, it's not safe." He said.

"You think I'd miss my boyfriend's birthday? You only turn 40 once." You shot back. He smiled at the mention of the word boyfriend.

"Happy Birthday, Chris," You leaned towards him and kissed his lips again softly, and moved your hands up into his hair.

You pulled a box from the white plastic bag. The package was wrapped in red tissue paper. Tied around it was a white ribbon, and it had a blue bow stuck to one corner. You presented Chris the gift, a beaming smile on your face.

"Happy Birthday!" Your voice was full of excitement and a tinge of apprehension.

Chris sat down on a chair at the table and gave the box a shake. He heard nothing rattling inside. You laughed as you watched him. He carefully tore the bow from the gift and placed it on the table, and then finished tearing the paper off and pulled the top of the box open to see a pair of red lingerie.

"Is this in my size?" Chris asked with a smirk as he looked up at you. You playfully slap his arm and sit down on his lap and place your lips against his.

"I can't wait any longer, and I can't think of a more perfect time than your birthday," you say against his lips. "I know this all happened kinda quick ... but I love y-." Chris cut your talking off by grabbing ahold of your face and roughly kissing your lips before pulling you onto his lap.

"I love you to Sweets," he murmured. "So much," he said before sitting back and looking up at you.

"I'm going to go change," you smiled and pecked his lips. "In the meantime, open the other gift." You smiled and rubbed your hand over his erection before taking lingerie and headed into his bedroom to undress and place the lingerie on. You smile as you look at yourself in the mirror. Finally, you walk out with a smile seeing Chris holding a pair of red furry handcuffs with a smirk on his face as he looked up at you.

"Have you been a naughty girl?" Chris smirked.

You giggle.

"Yes. Very. Don't you think I have?"

He ran his hand up the inside of your right thigh. You gasped and smiled, then spread your knees further apart on the couch. Chris's hand slid up over your ass as he slowly began to tug the lacy panties down your thighs and off your legs. Your ass looked perfect. It was curvy and smooth. He ran his to your core and smiled as he pushed them inside your folds.

"You're so wet," he said and gave your ass a slap with his other hand. You flinched.

"Yes," you moaned.

"What caused that?"

"I was thinking bout you all day," you murmur.

He gave your ass another slap. It rang out, and you moaned. You lowered your head to the arm of the couch, and your hair fell around your face. He brushed it back so he could see your expression.

"What were you thinking of, Sweets?"

"I was thinking about fucking you," you said.

"You're a naughty girl, Sweets," he slapped your ass another time.

"I know. I can't help it. I like being naughty," you moan.

He slapped your ass hard again twice, making you groan, then he quickened the two fingers that were inside your cunt, causing you to squirm on the couch. He moved them effortlessly and hit that spot inside you that left you squirting against his fingers. He smirked as he pulled them out of you and placed them into his mouth, and licked and sucked them clean. Pulling you onto his lap, he pulled the red lacy top off and began to suck your nipples, and gently took each one into his mouth. He stood walking you to his room, and he laid you onto the bed as he placed the handcuffs onto each of your wrists and onto the headboard. He stood and looked down at you, his eyes filled with pure lust as he undressed and took his cock in his hand before giving it a few strokes. He pushed his hips forward effortlessly, supplying you with his cock causing you to moan as he pushed into you. You were tight, and he smirked, knowing you'd never had anyone his size before.

"That's my girl taking my thick cock like it's nothing," he murmured. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk afterward. Might wanna tell your mama you're gonna stay the night," he said as he moved, so he brushed all the way into you, pulling your hips up a bit, he maneuvered you, so your legs were over his shoulders, his hands on your waist as he found the perfect rhythm with you.

"Chris, you feel so good," you finally get out. "Feeling me so fucking good," you say as the storm's raging outside, but all you care about is Chris filling you completely with his cock. At first, it kinda was uncomfortable, but the feeling didn't last long. Then, when you felt him slapping your ass as he began to pound into you, sweat beading down his chest and down your forehead, you knew you wouldn't last long, and you dug your fingers into the sheets.

"Chris, I'm gonna," you get out, and before you can get the sentence out, your orgasm hit just as a clap of thunder filled the sky. Chris groaned and grunted as he filled you with his cum, and he laid above you, staying that way for a few minutes before undoing the handcuffs and kissing at your wrists as he pulled out of you. Then, finally, he laid beside you, his hands gently rubbing over your soft skin as you melt into him.

"Happy Birthday, Baby," you murmur as your head lays against his chest.

"Best birthday ever," Chris says as he lazily kisses your forehead and holds you close against him. His hands continue to rub over your skin as he has you close, and he smiles down into your eyes. "I love you,"

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[spasmsofthought]

rituals. (zuko x water tribe!reader)

+This turned out to be far longer than I anticipated it to be, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. I’m sorry if Zuko feels out of character; I tried my best to not make him so. I wrote him in my mind to be older than 16 and with, at least, a year of Fire Lord experience with him. All of the things he says in this fic may not be completely on point, but I hope I made sense of his character in this situation and kept an accurate frame of reference for you to hold onto! 

I’ve been thinking: What would it have been like to marry the Fire Lord if you were an outsider, from another nation/element? And where that question led me is what produced this. 

I tried my best to have accurate research, but if something’s off or wrong, please kindly let me know! I’m not an expert about the fandom here. 

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this mess of fluffy Fire Lord Zuko and a Water Tribe OC just trying to navigate the way between two different cultures. 

Read Part II here! 

Like, comment, reblog! 

--

“Thank you.” You smile softly as some Fire Palace officials make their way out of the giant, ornate room. Their faces are more stoic, but there is one older man who gives you a slight quirk of his lips before they are back in a thin line. He’s been the only one who has been semi-kind to you. The rest of them have just been rigid and downright insufferable. It takes a few moments before their footsteps recede and you are surrounded by silence. 

It turns out that the Fire Lord asking you to become his wife comes with a lot more than you thought it would. 

And of course, you had never been blind to the fact that Zuko is of royal lineage. His family has passed down the title and office of Fire Lord for generations. The people of the Fire Nation have known this family for over a century. 

The blood definitely feels thicker than water here, though Zuko’s own familial situation may testify against that. 

How naïve of you to think any of this would be simple and easy. Nothing about this past century has been.

You press your head to the solid table beneath you, hand-crafted and polished so that it shines like the stars you remember seeing at night back home. Frustration and stress knit your shoulders together, your arms curling in towards your midsection.  

Deep breath in, the voice of your mother reminds you. You can barely remember her face now, lost to time, but her voice still somehow stays clear. You hope it stays that way for a long time. Now let it go, she says, too. 

If you close your eyes, you can almost picture your little family’s home. The sea squid hanging out to dry so that it can be prepared for supper and her bed disheveled but lined with furs that keep you both warm at night and during the coldest days. It’s probably empty now, a home to no one. 

You exhale, forehead still pressed against the table. You repeat the process a few more times, trying to somehow expel the tightness of your shoulders. The weight stays. Despite whatever you may lose,  being with Zuko is the closest to home you will ever feel now. 

You get up from your seated position at the table and move to a window, looking down at the picturesque landscape of a quiet pond garden. You lean against a pillar supporting the ceiling and try to absorb yourself in the peaceful scenery. You close your eyes and try to listen to the sound of the soft breeze rustling the leaves of the tree. You just want it all to go away for a second.

“Have they exhausted you yet?” A gravelly voice behind you asks. 

You turn to see Zuko standing in the open doorway. He’s dressed in all his formal attire, of course, but he seems to carry his own weight on his shoulders today. 

Idiot, you think, of course he looks stressed and weighed down. He’s trying to re-establish peace among four nations after the 100-year war his ancestor started. 

“Yeah, sure.” You mumble and smile softly. 

The moment doesn’t last long before you turn back to the pond, stomach churning now. The grief and the stress mingle together. You miss home, you miss the weather and wearing your furs. You miss your parents, who have been gone for four years; your father to the war and your mother to sickness. The ache never seems to go away, but it dulls when Zuko is able to be around. 

Zuko makes his way to stand beside you, saying nothing as he directs his gaze also to the peaceful pond, undisturbed by people or the noise of the outside world. 

Despite what you had been told about the Fire Nation your whole life growing up, and what you’d been told about Zuko during the War, you’d always appreciated when he did this. Despite his title and the lineage he carries, he’s always treated you like an equal. You are no less to him because you are female, and you are no less to him because you come from the Water Tribe. 

If it had been a few years ago, you wonder if he would have thought differently. Or perhaps he has always been able to understand honor more than most since he was a child, and that was part of the reason he was the one who was destined to be Fire Lord all along. 

You take in the side profile of his face for a moment, trying to gather the strength you’ve always had inside you.  

“I don’t want to worry you,” You begin, turning back to the view of the pond. 

It’s still and quiet and sounds like a great place to escape to in this present moment. 

“I’ll let you know when I can’t handle it,” His sardonic tone answers back. 

You know he means it as a joke, but there’s a stark truth to his words. He’s handled much more than a trivial conversation about what may be bothering you.

You take a moment to organize your thoughts so that you don’t come across as an emotional train wreck. Zuko has always seemed to have infinite patience with you while you express your emotions, but emotional intelligence is new to him as well. You don’t want to burden him with trying to figure out your emotions while he’s trying to cope with and understand his own. 

“I just... I didn’t know how difficult this would be.” 

“What?” He sounds a bit surprised. 

“Adopting your culture as my own,” Zuko opens his mouth but you stop him before he can even begin. “From a shallow frame of reference, I had always known your culture and your people would be different than mine. And the time I spent traveling back and forth from the Water Tribe to here when I was only your girlfriend gave me some exposure, but I didn’t know. Not really. Most of your people have been so indoctrinated by nationalistic propaganda that our union wouldn’t have really even been conceivable a few years ago.” 

There’s another moment of silence as you take a breath and exhale it. In and out. Zuko doesn’t try to interrupt the moment with platitudes or words of comfort, and that’s another thing you’ve grown to love about him. 

He doesn’t say something he doesn’t mean. It’s not in his nature to do so. 

In allowing each of you to struggle with the weight of your words and emotions, he honors your emotions without dismissing them. Sometimes, it leaves you speechless because the practice is so ingrained in him, there are times he doesn’t even notice he does it. 

“I can adapt. That’s not what I’m worried about. My people are strong because we are so willing to adapt to change, just like the ocean: strong and flexible. I can belong here without losing myself. I just don’t have anything to bring with me. There is no recognition of my culture, and since these meetings have started a few days ago, I get shut down every time I try to bring something into what should be the happiest day of my life.” 

You turn to him also and take a step closer. His expression remains neutral and you can tell it’s going to take some time for him to digest all of this. For a moment, you place your hands on his chest, clothed with the finest robes available in the Fire Nation. 

“When I said yes to your proposal, to the reality of a life with you, I meant it with all of my heart. I still do. But I have nothing tying me to my homeland or the place of my birth like you do here.”

He looks like he has a thousand things to say, but then the words fade away before they even make it out of his mouth. Zuko’s face turns back towards the outside, looking out at the pond as a soft breeze again disturbs the tree by the water. He always gets this look in his eyes when he’s in deep thought. The dilemma is less with him and his position as Fire Lord and more with how to integrate you in his world without making you “fit in” in ways you were never supposed to. 

“If I’ve learned anything over the past few years,” He begins, still standing straight and looking outside. “It’s that nothing in the world is right if there is no balance.” 

He reaches inside his formal robe and pulls out a box. Your brows furrow in confusion, because Zuko is not one to give gifts. 

“I was going to give this to you later, but it seems like the right time now.” He shrugs and hands you the box while a hand goes to rub his neck. 

He always does this when he feels shy or flustered. It’s kind of cute to see the “decisive Fire Lord” act like a teen aged boy. He had rare opportunity to act like one before. 

The box is like a square and a silk ribbon is tied around it. Your fingers work at the knot while you raise your eyebrow at him. You place the ribbon on the windowsill once it’s unraveled and gently pull the lid off the box. It may have looked inexpensive, but you never truly knew in the Fire Nation. 

The thing inside almost takes your breath away. It’s all blue, every single bit of it. 

It’s a betrothal necklace. 

You didn’t even know Zuko knew they existed, let alone what it would have meant in your culture if he gave you one. (Granted, he’s already asked you to marry him, but for the moment you dismiss the thought.) 

It’s true, most marriages are arranged by parents or parental figures in the Water Tribe. Most people at home are not as lucky as you have been to freely choose a partner, whether inside the Tribe or outside of it. Sometimes it seems a more hollowed out gesture when neither party is truly looking to get married for love. But the ones that do always give the necklace its meaning and purpose. 

“I asked Katara for some help,” He began to explain as you stare at the necklace. “I didn’t know what I was doing or where I should go, so she was the one who guided me. She gave me some ideas of what the carving in the stone should represent, but in the end, I came up with the design by myself.” 

Zuko rubs the back of his neck again as you glance between him and the necklace. 

The choker is dark blue as always, but the color gives you some semblance of peace. Blue isn’t a very prominent color displayed in the Fire Nation. Indeed, the stone fastened to the choker has already been carved into. The design is somehow intricate and simple at the same time. It is intimate without being gaudy or overdone. It is all blue and reflective of the culture you grew up in and the one you still carry with you. 

“You carved it yourself?” You whisper, not doubting the answer but still needing to ask it. Zuko just nods and your eyes well up with tears. He doesn’t even know how sacred this necklace is to you in a place where no one else will ever understand its full importance and meaning. 

“Will you put it on for me?” You hand the necklace to him as you also discard the box on the windowsill and turn your back to him. You’re thankful your hair is already tied back (still adorned with various blue beads from your background) as you sweep it to the side so Zuko can clasp the necklace around your neck. 

The weight of it is unfamiliar but grounding. It anchors you to the truth. It reminds you that no matter what marrying Zuko looks like, you carry your culture with you wherever you go. The way you treat others, hold yourself, and what you, hopefully, pass down to your children is far more important than what traditions you do or don’t adhere to in a ceremony. 

“I’ll talk to the officials,” He offers as he clasps the choker together. “You should be able to have all the customs that are important to you when we get married. You have always been my equal, but this time it will be a fact and not just an assumption.” 

You touch the stone with your fingers as you turn back to face him. The tears are already sliding down your cheeks, but you also give him a sweet close-lipped smile. He knows but he doesn’t. And that is what makes him so beautiful. 

You cup his face between your palms and feel him relax a little. Physical affection had never been a priority in his childhood or adolescence, but you can tell he’s starting to understand why you think it’s important to give and receive it. 

“Thank you,” You say, smiling wider. 

You close the distance and bring your mouth towards his. The kiss is steady and soft but also full of unrestrained emotion. Zuko gives you a second one before you both pull apart. He just shakes his head. 

“I think I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He whispers back as he brings you to his chest. 

He is home now, and that is what matters. 

[isabellafoster13]

This was requested on Tumblr by paultiteuf360.

For this oneshot, I decided to make Lucy and Levy already in a relationship. I also decided to make them act more like mothers to Romeo than babysitters because I thought that it would fit better. This takes place before the time skip when Romeo was still an adorable kid and would probably enjoy having two mother figures.

I hope you enjoy!

The Bunny Babysitters (Levy x Lucy ft. Romeo)

"Shrimp! Bunny Girl!"

The celestial wizard and letter mage of Fairy Tail looked up from their conversation to see Gajeel walking past his partying guildmates and toward the two of them, a smirk on his pierced face that told them that he was planning something. After noticing that he was holding something behind his back and that he was dressed in a white suit, fedora, and a pair of sunglasses, the two female mages gave each other an identical look that told each other that they knew exactly what was coming.

The Iron Dragon Slayer came to a stop at their table. His smirk widened into a toothy grin that did nothing to soothe the young women's suspicions. He said in a mischievous tone, "Hey there, my lovely bunny dancers."

Lucy and Levy groaned, having known that was what he wanted. Gajeel placed two sexy bunny outfits on the table. He then turned to walk to the stage and set up for his performance as Lucy and Levy grab their outfits and make their way to the changing room behind the curtain that sat at the back of the wooden stage.

As they passed by the end of the bar, Lucy caught sight of Romeo sitting at a table alone. She grabbed Levy's arm, stopping her girlfriend and pointing at the boy. The two young women walked over to the boy, Levy asking, "are you alright, Romeo?"

The dark-haired boy turned around, a glass of apple juice held tightly in his hands. He looked up at the pair of mages with a dampened mood. "My dad promised to show me some spells, but now he's too busy with a job to do it."

Lucy and Levy gave the boy a sad look, knowing that he must be missing his father and sad that Macao hadn't kept his promise. Romeo had turned back around and resumed drinking his juice when Lucy said with a smile, "how about when Levy and I get done with our performance, we spend some time with you?" Romeo turned right back around, dark eyes wide and a smile spreading across his face. He nodded his head happily, excited for someone to willingly pay attention to him.

Lucy and Levy smiled at him. They told him that they would be right back before continuing on their way to the changing room before Gajeel got impatient and threw them over his shoulders to drag them backstage.

Once inside the changing room, the pair of mages began changing into their outfits. Red pantyhose and black, strapless leotards with fluffy, white fake bunny tails on the butt. Accompanied with black headbands with identically colored bunny ears on top, as well as white, shoulder-length gloves and white collars with a black ribbon around each collar. The outfits were finished off with black, four-inch heels.

The pair looked at themselves in the large, full-body mirror. Lucy was more pleased with how she looked than Levy was. Noticing her girlfriend's frown, the blonde asked, "what's wrong?"

Levy shrugged. "I just don't like dressing like this. I don't have much of a figure, not like you."

Lucy wasted no time in cupping her girlfriend's face before leaning down to give her a love-filled kiss, one that Levy didn't hesitate to return. Once they pulled away, Lucy rested her forehead against Levy's, whispering, "you look gorgeous, Sweetheart. You don't need a big chest and curves to be beautiful. You're beautiful just how you are."

Levy smiled in appreciation, giving her girlfriend another kiss before they made their way out to the stage, ready to dance to Gajeel's terrible singing and mediocre guitar skills while also trying to ignore their hurting eardrums that they were both surprised hadn't suffered permanent damage yet. 

Fairy Tail's party came to a quick end after Elfman fell victim to a prank created by Natsu that was meant for Gray. Causing all hell to break loose and Gajeel to abandon his playing in favor of joining the brawl that broke out as Mira, Lisanna, and Wendy dragged an injured Elfman home. Lucy and Levy had stopped their dancing and watched, not knowing what exactly to do. The party turned brawl finally ended when Master Makarov emerged from his office to dismiss everyone to their homes in an effort to preserve the guildhall.

Lucy and Levy began walking backstage as their guildmates filed out, many were likely planning to move their party to some bar. They stopped when they saw Romeo still sitting in the same place he was before. They walked over to him, Lucy placing a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. The boy turned around to reveal tears in his eyes.

The two women looked at each other in rising panic, not sure what to do. Levy asked the boy, "what's wrong, Romeo?"

The boy sniffled, wiping his tears only for more to appear. He explained with a trembling voice, "my-my dad told Mira to watch me w-while he was away! She asked Erza to w-watch me but she left for an a-armor sale! Gray w-was supposed to watch me but he left to e-escape Juvia! He a-asked Natsu to take over but he just left for s-some reason!"

Lucy mumbled angrily, "that flame-brain probably forgot."

Romeo had to of heard what the blonde said, which caused him to wail, "Natsu forgot about me! Nobody ever wants to play with me!"

The two older mages began panicking when Romeo broke into tears. Levy whispered, "what do we do?"

Lucy could only whisper back, "I don't know! I've never taken care of a child before!"

The pair stood there, not knowing how to calm the crying boy. After a few minutes, Levy quickly lifted the boy into her arms and whisked him over to a bench. She sat down, laying the now sniffling boy on her lap, his abdomen on her lap. She then raised her hands to gently massage his shoulders and back through his shirt. Lucy watched as her girlfriend massaged the boy, causing him to relax and his sniffling to subside.

The letter mage lifted Romeo off of her lap and stood up, gently laying him onto the bench, revealing to Lucy that he had fallen asleep. Levy then turned to her girlfriend and said in a low voice, "let's go change our clothes and then take Romeo to your apartment."

Lucy nodded with a smile, following the blue-haired woman to the changing room. As they walked, the blonde spoke, "I didn't know you could do massages."

Levy shrugged, answering, "it's something that I learned recently. I didn't expect to be good enough to make someone fall asleep." They finished off with a laugh.

They opened the door only to find to their horror that their clothes were missing. They looked all throughout the room, discovering that someone had stolen their clothes, leaving them in their bunny outfits. The only things that remained were Lucy's keys, belt, and whip. Levy sighed before she asked, "where are our clothes? They were right here."

Lucy responded, her hands on her hips, "how much do you want to bet that Gajeel took them?" Levy nodded her agreement with that guess, remembering the several other times that Gajeel took their clothes to leave them stranded in their skimpy outfits. Lucy then added, "let's go back into the guildhall, before Romeo wakes up and starts crying again." Levy nodded once more and they exited the room, already planning to give Gajeel a piece of their minds the next day.

The pair entered the guildhall to find that Romeo had surprisingly already woken up and was sitting on the bench he had been left on, his knees pulled up to his chest and face buried in them. He looked up at the two women when he heard them stop in front of him. He sniffled, saying, "I thought you forgot about me."

Lucy and Levy both shook their heads, with Lucy responding, "what kind of Fairy Tail mages would we be if we left a child alone in the guildhall?"

Levy then spoke, "how about the three of us go to Lucy's apartment and play a few games?"

Romeo's tears dried and he smiled at that. He jumped off of the bench and asked with a hopeful smile, "can we get some ice cream first? And can we go through the park?"

Lucy and Levy paled at the thought of so many people seeing them the way they were dressed. Levy smiled sheepishly at her girlfriend. "We're going to be stared at by people anyways, why not get him some ice cream too? Besides, the park is on the way to your apartment."

Lucy nodded, not excited but willing to go out in public dressed the way she was if it meant getting Romeo ice cream and making sure that he didn't start crying again. She mumbled, "good thing I have Capricorn hold onto my money." She took out the goat spirit's key to summon him and retrieve her money from him.

Lucy and Levy followed Romeo to an ice cream shop, trying to ignore the stares, wolf whistles, and catcalls that were thrown their way by the many people they walked by. The two mages were visibly uncomfortable. Lucy muttered to the other woman next to her, "this is a nightmare." Levy answered with a nod.

The trio soon arrived at the ice cream shop. Romeo ran to the counter and stood on his tiptoes, trying to see the menu that hung on the wall behind the counter. Lucy and Levy laughed as Lucy hooked her hands under the boy's armpits and lifted him up. Romeo quickly found a flavor that he liked and placed his order, chocolate mint, followed by Lucy's and Levy's orders, strawberry and blueberry.

They got their ice cream cones and began the walk to the park, making their way through it to Lucy's apartment. As they walked through the thankfully empty park, Lucy heard Levy laugh a short distance behind her. She turned to see that her girlfriend and Romeo had stopped, the boy reaching behind Levy and seeming to stare at the white bunny tail on the butt of her leotard. Lucy laughed as she walked over to them, seeing that Romeo was rubbing Levy's bunny tail between his fingers, obviously enjoying the feel of the soft, fluffy material.

He then looked up at Lucy and asked, "does your tail feel the same way?"

Lucy laughed in sync with Levy, answering, "I assume so."

The boy switched his ice cream cone into his other hand and stepped over to Lucy, taking her bunny tail into his now free hand had rubbing the material with his fingers. He smiled, pleased by the pleasant feel. Lucy and Levy once again shared a laugh at the boy's adorable act. Levy kneeled down next to him, getting his attention. She placed her lips against her ice cream, getting some on them, and then she leaned toward Romeo, going to kiss his cheek. The boy let out a small laugh and used his free hand to attempt at pushing Levy's face away from him as the blue-haired woman continued to try to get ice cream on his cheek.

Lucy laughed, kneeling next to the boy and mimicking Levy's actions. The boy devolved into a fit of laughter as the two mages kissed his cheeks, getting ice cream on his face. He used his arms to push away the pair. They finally stopped when Romeo ran ahead, still laughing.

The boy ran back to them, his arms raised. Lucy and Levy laughed, seeing that the boy wanted to be picked up. Lucy handed Levy her ice cream before she bent down and picked up Romeo, placing him on her shoulders and taking her ice cream back. They then continued on their walk to Lucy's apartment.

Upon their arrival at their destination, the trio finished their cold treats. Lucy took Romeo off of her shoulders as they entered her apartment's main room. The boy yawned as he curled himself up as much as he could in the blonde's arms. Levy yawned after him, soon followed by Lucy. The blonde said, "it's getting pretty late, let's just head to bed." Levy nodded and took the dozing boy into her arms and lay him on the pink-blanketed bed. The two young women laid down on either side of Romeo, falling asleep quickly.

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

I tried to stick to the request as much as possible, but it was pretty difficult. Hopefully it turned out good.

[hispipsqueak]

Happy New Year

Bakugo x F! Pregnant Reader Fluff

Summary:

You and Bakugo have been keeping a secret, and plan to reveal it at your New Year’s Party.

A/N: Here’s some sweet fluff to end the year. I have a soft spot for Dad!Bakugo and had to write something adorable for him. I hope you enjoy it and your new year is full of happiness and love! Also, I had to look up so much stuff about pregnancy. I hope no one finds my search history :P

TW: Pregnancy. mild cursing. Otherwise, super mega fluffy!

“Why do they have to come over?!” Bakugo grumbled for the thirtieth time. 

You looked up from the pan you were currently scrubbing. 

“Katsuki...they’re our friends! Plus, we are going to announce the big news.” You looked down at your small baby bump.

You and Bakugo had found out you were going to be parents nearly 5 months ago and you both were extremely excited. You had waited to tell everyone until it was deemed safe by your doctor and with the new year approaching, you figured it would be easy to gather everyone you loved to spill the news.

Of course, Bakugo was going to make it difficult though. 

You knew he was just as excited as you about the addition to your little family, but whereas you were open about discussing all your fears, thoughts, and anxieties, Bakugo was a little more closed off and channeled the extra stress into other things.

You went back to washing the dishes and felt your husband’s biceps wrap around your body, his hands softly resting on your belly. He nuzzled into your neck.

“We could just send a text and stay in together. Watch the fireworks from the balcony, relax. Plus, are you sure you want those loud idiots stressing you and the baby out?” He murmured into your ear.

You giggled and swatted him with the dish rag. 

“I literally live with a walking explosion and you’re worried our friends are too loud? I mean sure, maybe Present Mic, but I doubt he doesn’t already have plans.” You trailed off, before he spun you around and lifted you up, bridal style.

“That’s enough, off to bed with you mama. You’re too snappy tonight and clearly not thinking straight.” He chuckled as you squealed into his chest.

“‘Tsuki, you’re so annoying!” You laughed as he gently tossed you into bed.

He crawled on top of you, pressing your body into the soft mattress and mountains of pillows you insisted on sleeping with.

“I may be annoying, but I’m also the father of this little brat inside you.” He muttered, vermillion eyes shining. You smiled up at him.

He had grown up a lot since your UA days. While he still had his hot-headed moments, he was playful and more considerate of your feelings and you knew he was going to be an amazing father. He even changed his screensaver on his phone to your sonogram, though he would never admit it. 

“We’re gonna have fun, babe. It’s gonna be a good night with all our friends and we can finally be open about the baby. Plus, it’d be nice for our kid to meet all their aunts and uncles.” You grinned, thinking of how your friends would react to this.

Katsuki groaned, rolling over. “Kiri is gonna fucking cry, I know it.” 

You laughed and curled up next Bakugo. 

“Yeah...probably.”

-------

New Year’s Eve was finally here. You had been busy preparing everything for the party tonight and your heart fluttered at the idea of sharing your big news with everyone. Bakugo had to finish up some last minute stuff at the agency so he was going to be home right before the party began. You were pulling another tray of baked sweets out of the oven when your phone chirped.

You glanced over to see another message from your group chat with the girls.

Mina: Can’t wait to see you Y/N, I MISS YOU

Momo: Are you sure you don’t need us to bring anything? We don’t want to be bad guests.

Ochaco: We can also help set up if you need us to! 

Y/N: I’m totally fine. Katsuki arranged for food to be delivered and Sero and Kirishima are picking up all the drinks for tonight. Just bring yourselves!

Y/N: Also yes, before you ask, I am making cookies.

Mina: HECK YES! :)

They started arranging transportation plans and you clicked your phone off, to focus on transferring the cookies onto a cooling tray. Once that was settled, you jogged upstairs to get dressed. Luckily, you weren’t really showing yet so your friends wouldn’t immediately know when you greeted them, but you still wanted to wear something loose and flowy.

You settled on a deep red dress that cinched right under your chest and opened in an A-line skirt. You rifled through your jewelry box until you found the necklace Katsuki had given you for your birthday. It was a large black teardrop shaped diamond on a simple thin silver chain. You reached behind your back to clasp the necklace and felt a warm hand enclose yours.

“I didn’t even hear you come in.” You smiled looking at your husband in the mirror. He finished attaching your necklace and met your eyes. 

“I just got here. The food’s here too, so everything’s done. I just need to get dressed.” He said, twirling you around so you were facing him. He rubbed your tiny bump. “How’s the brat been today?”

“Surprisingly chill. Though the baby did require a couple pints of ice cream for breakfast.” You laughed.

“Uh-huh...blame it on the baby.” He chuckled and gave you a kiss on your forehead. You could smell the scent of his body wash, a spicy cinnamon musk combined with his natural caramel scent. He must have showered at the agency and you buried your face in his chest, enveloping yourself in him.

“Stop sniffing me like a dog, crazy woman.” He flicked you on the head and you pouted. He crouched down so he could kiss your belly.

“I’m sorry your mama is nuts.” He laughed before pressing his lips to your stomach. 

You smiled. Though you were excited to tell your friends about the news, you kind of loved having this little secret just between you two. These moments, with just you, Bakugo, and the baby, were magical and felt so...pure. Untainted from anything.

-----

“We’re HERE!” Mina’s voice echoed through your entryway. She was dressed in a gold sparkly jumpsuit and her aura just screamed “Happy New Year”. She was followed by Momo, dressed in a sparkly green dress and Tsu, who wore yellow sundress. Soon the door opened again and Ochaco was ushered in by Deku. You grinned at her blushing face. Her and Deku had finally admitted their feelings for each other after years of pining and they were adorable together. She had on a cute pink knee-length dress that matched Deku’s tie, which contrasted nicely against the dark teal suit he wore.

The rest of your friends piled in slowly afterwards, with Sero and Kirishima carrying cases of booze. You had made sure to stock your house with plenty of non-alcoholic drinks as well but you knew the rest of your friends planned to party hard, since it was rare to all get together.

Once everyone made it in, and Iida stopped arm chopping at Denki for some unknown broken social rule, Kirishima raised his beer.

“Can we just toast to Y/N and Bakubro, for hosting this party? It feels like a million years since I’ve seen you guys.”

You giggled and looked at your husband. He rolled his eyes and looked at you nodding. You turned back to the group.

“Actually, we invited you here because of something else…” You looked down at your belly, and heard gasps.

“ARE YOU…?”

“You’re…?”

“Wait what…?”

Bakugo looked exasperated with the suspense.

“We’re having a baby, idiots.”

A loud cheer erupted from your friends and immediately you were swarmed by the girls, asking a million questions. The guys were clapping Bakugo on the back and as expected Kirishima was already tearing up.

“So manly bro. You’re gonna be the manliest dad!” He sobbed while squeezing Bakugo in a tight hug. Sero and Denki snickered watching this. 

“Get off of me idiot. I’m not the pregnant one.” Bakugo growled trying to pry the redhead off him. Kirishima turned to you and started hugging you tightly. 

“I’m so proud of you guys!”

“You’re proud of them for —”

A ribbon of tape wrapped itself around Kaminari’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. You threw a grateful look toward Sero, who grinned over his beer.

The rest of the night turned into an impromptu baby shower, with everyone fawning over you two. You were asked a zillion questions, everyone offered to babysit, and even Todoroki offered his quirk if you ever needed pain relief (which Bakugo immediately shot down).

“I can take care of my own wife, IcyHot Bastard.” He grunted through his teeth. You smacked Bakugo upside the head before apologizing to Todoroki. You placed your hand back to rest on your belly and felt a small flutter. 

“Holy shit...babe!” You’re mouth dropped. Immediately, the room went quiet and Bakugo rushed to your side. 

“What, what’s wrong??!” He placed his hand on your stomach and his eyes widened.

“The baby...the baby’s kicking.” You smiled, eyes pricking with tears. The two of you looked at each other and you could see tears threatening to spill from your husband’s eyes. He grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, seeming to forget where he was.

“I love you, I love you both so goddamn much” He whispered to you, before kissing you again. 

“Bro, you’re gonna make her have twins!” Kaminari yelled out, before being smacked in the head by both Mina and Kirishima. You giggled and pulled your husband close to you, before he blasted his friend out of the house. 

“Guys, it’s almost midnight!” Momo said looking at her watch. “Ten…”

“Nine…”

“Eight…”

You looked around at all your cheering friends.

“Seven…”

“Six…”

You looked at your husband, who gave you a soft smile back.

“Five…”

“Four…”

You looked down at your baby bump.

“Three...two...one.”

“Happy New Year!”

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Lavender Lace

Pairings: Tom Holland x Femdom!Reader

Summary: Edging Tom (no plot whatsoever which is super rare here cause I’m a slut for plot)

Warnings: Edging (male receiving), unprotected sex (because it’s a fic and there is no pregnancy or STD’s unless I say lol), Dom!Reader-Sub!Tom, Creampie, Cockwarming, Reader doesn’t cum (sorry)

Word Count: 1860

A/N: I wrote most of this on my phone so I’m sorry if there are any words that autocorrect changed. I looked through and changed the ones I saw but just in case I missed any, my apologies!

Part 2 out now!

______________________

Tom lied on the bed, hands tied up above his head to the bed frame. His beautiful body was on full display against the sheets, small freckles adorning his taut skin. A glistening layer of sweat made every dip and rise of his body shine deliciously, his defined muscles exaggerated by the light shining off it. His chest heaved up and down as he attempted to calm himself down yet again and his biceps flexed as he pulled against his restraints. “Fuck! Please, please please…” His voice was broken and desperate- but not quite desperate enough.

“Awe, Tommy. You’re doing so well,” you cooed, rubbing your hand lovingly across his firm thigh, “But I think you can go a little longer.“

Tom groaned in frustration, his cock already painfully hard and leaking precum. He hissed and bucked up into your hand when your hand went back down to pump his impressive length. Your hand glided up and down, adding a twist at the top around the tip. “Please-”

You stopped your movement but kept your hand still on his member, shaking your head, “No cumming until I say.” You chided, voice gentle in stark contrast to the torture you’d been putting him through for the last hour. Tom’s hips bucked upwards again, desperate for release, making you chuckle, “Look at you. So handsome. So desperate.” After a few moments, his breathing calmed down and your fingers circled feather light across his pelvis and down over his thighs, “Let’s get you a little more desperate.”

Tom shook his head, “I need to cum. Please, please let me!”

You almost felt bad for your boyfriend. He looked almost in pain and you really did want to please him more than anything but you also knew that he loved this torture. If he really wanted you to stop, he only had to say the safe word. That weird simple little word had yet to leave his lips, which meant the fun could go on, guilt free.

Your middle finger circled his tip, so agonizingly light that he couldn’t tell if you were there or his brain was just creating sensations to cope with the torture. “Just a few more, love. Think of how good it will feel when you finally get to cum.” With that, you licked a long, slow stripe up the underside of his length before taking only his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue, lapping up the abundant pre-cum that had been practically pouring out at this point.

Tom pulled at his hand restraints aggressively, “Agh!” He almost screamed out as you brought him to the edge yet again with only small kitten licks to his tip while you stroked his shift with your hand. Tom was so painfully close, it only took mere seconds before he was crying out again.

“I’m gonna cum!” He warned and you took your hand off completely, causing him to cry out. You crawled up his body, kissing a line up along the way. You made sure that his cock rubbed through the valley of your breasts, concealed by a lacey lavender push up bra that did wonders for your chest. When you made your way to his lips, you straddled his waist, just above where he needed you most, and kissed his lips.

“What number was that?” You whispered lightly into his ear.

His eyes opened to find yours only mere inches away and he could have cried. You looked beautiful. Sultry, sexy, confident. Tom, on the other hand, appeared to be a few seconds from tears. His big beautiful chocolate eyes were practically black, pupils blown so wide they nearly overwhelmed his entire irises. His brown curls stuck to his forehead from where he’d attempted to desperately bury his head in the pillows. “Nine.” Tom managed barely, only able to focus on the intense pressure between his legs.

You kissed him again, lifting yourself off him just enough to move the thin fabric of your thong aside before sitting back down, his length sliding between your slick folds as you rocked your hips.

“Fuck!” He hissed out, eyes screwed shut. He had already been so close that this alone almost sent him over the edge.

Your nails scratched lightly over his chest as your ground on him. You moaned a little when his head bumped your clit as he passed through your folds, so close to finally being inside you. “You’ve been such a good boy, Tommy. Where do you want to cum?” You asked, reaching over his head to untie the scarf you’d had him bound by. Immediately, his hands were on your hips.

He timidly asked, “Inside you?” Even after all these years together and the fact you were on birth control, it was still a request he felt weird making.

You smiled against his skin as you licked up his neck, still moving your hips against him, “You can cum inside me when I hit ten, understand?”

“I don’t think I’ll make it. I’m already s-so close.” Tom stuttered when he felt the tip of his cock finally slide into your warmth.

You squeezed your walls around him, just to torture him a little more, “You’re gonna have to, love. If you cum before I say, I’m gonna have to stop and ruin it.”

A genuine look of fear ran through Tom’s eyes and you knew he’d behave for you. He wanted this - nay, needed this - so badly. You began to bounce on his length, his cock rubbing against every wonderful spot inside you. Your hands came to your breasts, palming them through the thick fabric of your bra. “One.”

Tom’s hands struggled to stay on your hips, knowing you might edge him longer if he stepped out of line, “Let me touch you.” He begged and you only nodded, reaching for his hands and placing them on your breasts. He pulled the fabric down and raked his nails gently over your nipples, making you breathe out in pleasure.

“Two,” You moaned out, “Three.” You kept bouncing and you could feel him twitch inside you. “Four. Five.”

“I’m not gonna make it. I’m so close.” Tom was almost crying, legs struggling to stay still as he used every ounce of willpower to not let go here and no. He was so close, all it would take was a millisecond of losing concentration to snap.

You slowed down and just sat on him yet again, not moving but clenching your walls around his aching member and he audibly whined, “You’re gonna make it or I’m gonna get off and leave you writhing on the bed. Then you can watch while I finish myself off. That what you want?”

He shook his head aggressively, his hands moving back down to your hips to keep you in place, “No, no, no! I’ll make it to ten!” You noted the movement of his hands and maybe if he hadn’t been so well behaved all this time, you would have punished him a little more for trying to take control but you could see in his eyes how painfully desperate he was, how hard he was trying to be good. You wouldn’t punish him for it - this time.

“Good.” You began to swivel your hips, just like you knew he loved it and he threw his head back into the pillows, eyes shut tight as he struggled to keep his composure. “Six. Seven.” You reached down and ran your thumb gently across his cheek where an actual tear slid down, still moving on his cock, still drawing this out, “Eyes open, love.” Tom struggled to comply, knowing that one of the only things keeping him from busting right this second was trying to take his mind anywhere but this situation. Seeing you looking so damn sexy bouncing on his cock was sure to send him over. But he managed to pry his lids open and lock eyes with your blown out orbs. You bit your lip and smiled, “You’re doing such a good job. Eight.”

“Shit!” A broken moan tumbled from his lips as he flexed every muscle in his body to keep it at bay. He was gonna snap and there was nothing he could do about it, especially at this painfully slow pace you’d been counting at.

“Nine.”

Tom’s heart raced as he waited for that last number, that last bit of permission before you would let him finally release. He didn’t think he’d ever been this painfully hard and it made him look back at every other time he ever thought he had blue balls and smack his past self. He had no idea what it was like to be this achingly close. “Please, please-”

“Ten. Cum for me baby.” You finally allowed, raking your fingers down his body, making sure to graze over his nipples.

The orgasm hit him like a semi, crashing into across his body hard and fast the very moment you permitted it. “Agh! Fucking hell!”! He was nearly sobbing, his hands squeezing tightly into your hips and bouncing you up and down at just the right pace. Again, something you let slide. He had just been so good for you, he deserved it. His seed shot deep into you, warm and overflowing and waves of pleasure just kept coming. Tom didn’t think he’d ever cum this hard or long in his life, himself surprised when more and more hot ribbons seemed to just. Keep. coming.

Finally, he slowed down, arms slackening weakly against your thighs as he came down from his high. He was still sheathed inside you, his seed leaking out around his cock, down his cock and along your inner thighs. You had never been so full and you didn’t want it to end. You leaned forward, coming to lay on his chest, head in the crook of his neck. When you moved, your walls instinctively fluttered around his sensitive cock and Tom hissed, his grip suddenly tightening on you as the stimulation became too much.

Once you had positioned yourself comfortably on his chest, he wrapped an arm around your body, rubbing large stripes up and down your side. You twirled his hair in your fingers and listened to his wrecked breathing with a bit of pride knowing you made him feel this good. “You did so good for me, Tommy.”

He sighed heavily, “Thank you.” You giggled a little, knowing his brain was still moving a little slow. He wasn’t thanking you for the compliment- he was thanking you for finally letting him cum.

“Wasn’t too much?” You asked, hoping you didn’t go overboard. Logically, you knew he’d use the safe word if it was too much but you just wanted to be sure you hadn’t gotten a little too lost in the power.

Tom shook his head with a chuckle, pulling you closer into his body, hissing yet again when your heat shifted around his overstimulated softening length. “Just right. Any more and I might have died, though.”

You both laughed at his joke before you cooed in his ear, “Oh, love, you can take it. We’ll just have to break your record next time.”

[manonblaqkbeak]

Fire and Ice

hello, hope you’re all doing well. i’m doing a double feature today since its the 20th here in aus. so todays fic is for day 19 and 20 (like, if u squint lol).

its a lil bit more angsty then i planned for it to be in the beginning, but its got some fluff at the end. (also, again, i borrowed the 10 month pregnancy plot from acotar)

1.9k words

enjoy!

The bathroom tiles were cool against Aelin's clammy skin as she slowed her breathing. As she willed herself to stop feeling so dizzy.

Four months into her first pregnancy and Aelin soon came to realise what the worst part of pregnancy; the morning sickness.

Or, as Aelin liked to call it, 'whenever it rutting happened' sickness. Morning, midnight, dawn, she often found herself running towards a bathroom, emptying her stomach loudly for the whole damned kingdom to hear.

She was aware of the rumours flying around, that there were friendly bets going throughout the city as to whether or not Terrasen was going to have a prince or princess (apparently, the majority were betting for a boy, but Aelin didn't care what she had, as long as they were healthy), but neither her or Rowan confirmed the pregnancy, and so the rumours stayed as gossip, until she and Rowan were comfortable enough to officially announce it.

Aelin wanted to wait because of how hard it was to conceive—it had taken her and Rowan over three years to be successful, and while she knew that three years wasn't that long, it was still hard when nothing happened—and was scared that if she said it out loud, then something horrible would happen. She hadn't even told her friends, although she knew that they knew; the rumours would have reached them. She appreciated that they hadn't asked either of them. Other than Rowan, the only other person that knew of her pregnancy was her personal healer, Magnolia. Other than Yrene, the demi-Fae was a healer than Aelin felt comfortable around, because even after a decade later, she still had nightmares about her time in Maeve and Cairn's cruel hands, the never ending chain of healers coming to fix her so she could be tortured again and again.

Rowan wanted to wait because of everything that happened to Lyria and their child. There were many nights when Aelin would wake up and find Rowan just watching her, his hand against her slowly growing stomach, and not only could she see the pain in his eyes as he thought back on what happened all those centuries ago, she could also feel it, like a living thing. Aelin knew that Rowan did his best to stop her from sensing his dread, but she wasn't a fool, and she would have known how he was feeling even if they didn't have the bond between them, even if she was miles away, she would know.

The bathroom door opened and Rowan was helping her up, his hands warm and gentle against her clammy skin.

Aelin was far too tired to ask if one of her handmaids called for Rowan after Aelin ran from their shared closest and into the bathroom, or if he felt her distress through the bond.

It was probably both. She would ask once her head stopped spinning.

Resting her head against her mate's chest, Aelin breathed in his scent, letting the pine-and-snow of him calm her senses. His strong arms wrapped around her, his tattooed hand running up and down the length of her spine as his right hand was a steady presence against her lower back.

How long they stayed like that, Aelin wasn't sure, but once her head stopped spinning, she rinsed her mouth out to get rid of the pungent vomit taste that was lingering. Once satisfied that the taste was gone, Aelin let Rowan lead her to bed—not the closest.

“Rowan—” she started to say, but her husband cut her off.

“That was a strong one, and Magnolia said that it's best to rest afterwards.” So he felt it through the bond, then. “I'll take over, and you can stay in and read that book you've been eyeing all week.”

She should say no, that she was fine, but a day of rest did sound nice and probably something she desperately needed without knowing it—and she really had been wanting to read the book that Dorian had sent her the other week (which she had to write a detailed review of when she sent it back. It was one of her favourite past times, especially if it was a book that Dorian loved, but she didn't particularly like, because his response to her review was always the most dramatic thing that always made her laugh).

“Fine,” Aelin said, “I'll rest and you can go deal with Head Teacher of the Academy.”

Rowan groaned at the mention. The Fae male that ruled the magic school was nice, but just so damned pedantic that he had a say about everything. And everything was falling apart, according to him, despite the fact that the school was built only five years ago. “I swear,” Rowan grumbled, “that if he complains to me that the school halls aren't the right shade of brown, I'll throw him out the window.”

Aelin laughed, because she had said the same thing when the male had come around complaining that the roof tiles were crooked last month and she had sent Rowan to check on said tiles (and what a surprise to absolutely no one that the tiles weren't at all crooked), but that wasn't enough for the Head Teacher, when he came back the next week, he wanted the tiles replaced.

If he wasn't so damned talented and good with children and running the school, she would have had him fired for being a nuisance. But unfortunately, neither she or Rowan couldn't just get rid of him because he was annoying.

“Make sure that your shirt is tucked in neatly, or you'll get the same speech about cleanliness like last time.”

Rowan flared his nostrils at that, but said nothing as he got up and changed his crumpled tunic for a fresh one—not at all tucked in—and began his fussing.

Truthfully, she was surprised that he lasted that long.

He left her a glass of water, and a pitcher full of the liquid on her nightstand, and the bowl of seasonal fruit next to it. Next was opening the balcony doors to let in the fresh air, and then the fluffing of pillows and straightening of the quilt and bed sheets—Aelin may have teased him a little by saying that the sheets were too tight, and then too loose, having to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing as he huffed at her ever-changing mind, until she decided that the sheets were just right after five minutes of readjusting.

Aelin watched it all with a small smile on her face, even as she grumbled about his fussing tendencies—but she knew he did it from a place of love, and that he wanted her and the baby to be comfortable.

He even went as far as to check her forehead, and gave her a wash cloth to freshen her up from her earlier sweating. At least she was already in a cotton nightgown and didn't have to get changed—although she knew that if she had too, Rowan would have brought the clothes over himself.

Once he was satisfied that Aelin was comfortable, he left with a kiss on the lips and a promise that he would see her once he was free, Aelin cracked open the book, but fell asleep thirty minutes later with an unexpected headache, a hand on her stomach.

X X X X X X

It was a rare day when Rowan had an empty afternoon, there was always someone to see, something to do, someone to write back to, that when Rowan finished his meeting with the Lords and Ladies of Terrasen and there was no one waiting for him in the audience chamber, Rowan was the first to leave the meeting, needing to check on Aelin. He hated how pale she looked when he left, but when he spoke to Magnolia quickly, the skilled healer told him that it was perfectly normal, but she would check in on Aelin to make sure that everything was okay—and since he wasn't called for during any of his meetings, he took that as a sign that things were fine.

The fact that the bond was quiet also assured him. He had tugged on it during at some point when one of the Lords was rambling, and he got a tired tug back, effectively telling him that Aelin was sleeping. So he let her be, and he sat in his worried state alone.

Rowan was excited for the baby, to take this step with Aelin, but Gods, he'd also hadn't been this tense, this paranoid that something was going to happen in so long. Rowan didn't think he'd feel like himself until he held their child in his arms, but Aelin still had six months to go.

And sometimes...sometimes he found himself wondering about the child he lost with Lyria. What they would have looked liked, if they would have been tall and broad like him, or slim like her. He also wondered how long their child would have been safe before Maeve claimed the child, having them trained to be a warrior like Rowan, or if Maeve would have cast them aside like she had done to Lyria, who Maeve saw as nothing but a pawn to use and toss aside.

His thoughts kept spiralling, his mind going from one thing and another, but stopped when he heard the sloshing of water and a relived sigh once he got closer to his rooms. He made his way through the space and soon came to the bathroom where Aelin was resting against the porcelain tub. Her skin was a light pink from the hot water, but otherwise looked healthy.

Rowan just stood and watched her for a moment and let the contentment from the bond wash over him. The steam danced through the air, carrying Aelin's scent with it, and the indescribable scent of their child within her.

“Are you going to stand there all afternoon?” Aelin asked, her eyes still closed, “or are you going to join me?”

Rowan decided to join her, managing to hold back his wince as he made contact with the boiling water—how Aelin found the hot as hell water relaxing he would never know.

When he was comfortably behind her, Aelin leaned against his chest, and took his hands and placed them against her growing belly.

“Magnolia visited me a few hours ago,” she said. “She says that soon the nausea will pass.”

“Good,” he said, letting the words settle in him.

Rowan was about to lean back against the bath when Aelin's fire filled the air in thin ribbons, moving as smoothly as water as it flew past him. His own magic moved in response, and soon his ice and wind joined her fire, going around the room, filling it up with the differences in temperature. And from the tub, a water butterfly the size of Aelin's palm lifted into the air, its movements delicate but strong as it came towards him. Aelin turned to look at him, her brows furrowed lightly in concentration.

The butterfly came to rest on his nose, and then exploded in his face.

Aelin laughed at his incredulous expression. Rowan shot forward and flicked water in her face, and soon almost all of the bath water was on the floor as they splashed at each other back and forth.

Rowan's troubles melted away with his ice and Aelin forgot about all of her nausea and stress temporarily.

Aelin couldn't wait to meet her baby, and she knew that Rowan was the same.

Six months couldn't come soon enough.

[robininthelabyrinth]

A Sick Thought - Part 3 - on ao3 or on tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Lan Wangji had long ago suspected that he had done some terribly wrong in a prior life, if only because something had to explain everything he’d suffered from the death of his mother to the destruction and rebuilding of his sect to the loss of Wei Wuxian and the terrible wrenching pain that accompanied it.

If before he suspected, now he was certain.

There was no other way to explain why else he would be tormented by the return of his beloved – as a feline.

He had difficulty even thinking about that, really, even though he’d gotten relatively used to dealing with the fact of it in real life. The thought just sounded so absurd in every possible way:

Wei Wuxian is back, but he’s a cat.

The Yiling Patriarch returned at last, meowing.

Purr, says Wei Ying.

(That last one tended to lead him to disturbing thoughts, and so he refrained.)

They were traveling together now, working together, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian together. It was everything he’d ever dreamt of, except for the part that his wildest fantasies on the subject somehow failed to cover the possibility that Wei Wuxian would be small, four-legged, and insist on riding on Lan Wangji’s shoulder except for when he felt the distinct need to zoom around wildly and would pelt up and down the road at top speed, chattering cheerfully as he did.

Similarly, when Lan Wangji had imagined sharing a meal with him, he had perhaps anticipated Wei Wuixan’s eyes going big and round and pleading, the way he inhaled the smell of spices, the way he would reach out to grab – but he hadn’t anticipated that he would need to bat away Wei Wuxian’s little paw before he consumed anything with onion, garlic, or other alliums, which were bad for cats, and would instead be feeding him little bits of raw chicken with no salt. Sometimes, even often, he would succumb to Wei Wuxian’s pleading and rub on a tiny little bit of chili powder – spice was also bad for cats, no matter how they lusted for it, and so it was bad for Wei Wuxian no matter his pleading. 

He had imagined sharing a pillow with him, hearing his breathing, and they did, he did - and yet, they were literally sharing the pillow, Wei Wuxian’s entire body curled up into a perfect orb of cat right next to his cheek and sometimes waking him up with foul cat-breath, and instead of needing to watch for nightmares he was more concerned about dreams involving chasing (Wei Wuxian had pounced on his forehead ribbon more times than he could count). He could sooth him with his hand, as he’d hoped, but there was a lot less sighing and a lot more purring - a rumble like distant thunder, more vibration than sound - than he’d thought.

Also, he’d imagined their duets to include somewhat more flute-playing and less…yowling.

Yes, it was all…very, very different.

No matter. It wasn’t important that it didn’t match his dreams; what was important was that Wei Wuxian, his Wei Ying, was back.

That was what mattered.

“I really wish we could’ve gotten more information from Mo Xuanyu,” Wei Wuxian said, padding along at Lan Wangji’s side. He’d permitted Lan Wangji to replace the cheap red ribbon Mo Xuanyu had found for him with something a little more elegant, and Lan Wangji hadn’t been able to resist using one of his spare forehead ribbons (dyed red, of course, to match Wei Wuxian’s tastes); the obvious end result of this pleasurable subterfuge was that Lan Wangji was now having some difficulty looking straight at Wei Wuxian without blushing. 

It seemed an appropriate example of suffering the consequences of his own actions. 

“I know he doesn’t know anything about the ghost hand – or the legs, I guess, now that we’ve gotten them, and wasn’t that weird with the Nie sect? Poor Nie Huaisang looked even more torn up about it all than I would’ve expected, all dark circles under his eyes and pale skin, you’d think he’d be better at running a sect if it’s been a decade already – anyway, I’m distracting myself from the main point. The main point is, I can’t help but feel like this whole thing is connected to Mo Xuanyu somehow.”

“Agreed,” Lan Wangji said.

Poor Mo Xuanyu.

Lan Wangji had not in nearly a decade and a half regretted his decision never to willingly set foot in Jinlin Tower, but now that he had seen what work they had made of Mo Xuanyu, he regretted nothing more. He who took such pride in being where the chaos was had missed the chaos and wretchedness right under his very nose – for Mo Xuanyu was very wretched indeed.

Lan Wangji had resented Mo Xuanyu at first, always laying his hands on Wei Wuxian without the slightest bit of shame – not that there needed to be shame, given that Wei Wuxian was, well, a cat, and of the subgenre of felines that Jiang Cheng for some unspecified reason continued to crudely refer to as “cuddle-sluts” – and for how Wei Wuxian worried about him and cared for him. 

It did not help that Mo Xuanyu was so well known for being a cutsleeve. 

And then, one day, Mo Xuanyu had gotten Lan Wangji alone and told him with great emphasis that he was deeply devoted to his successful courtship of Wei Wuxian, offering his help in any possible respect, and also wistfully added that he wouldn’t mind it very much if Lan Wangji were willing to offer some suggestions on how to court Jiang Cheng, who was utterly oblivious to any hints.

After that, Lan Wangji remembered himself what shame was, and guilt, and felt it thoroughly – it was no excuse to say that being around Wei Wuxian roused his worst protective and possessive instincts, for it was his duty to overcome them. Be strict with yourself, the rules said, and as always he had failed to remember the rules when he needed them most.

The extent of his pettiness was only magnified when he thought about it all more closely. Mo Xuanyu was not merely someone to be pitied, was more than simply a victim who had suffered under the outrages of the Jin sect – the harassment, the abuse, the deliberate poisoning and destruction of his mind in order to reduce his credibility...That was all bad enough, and it pained Lan Wangji to no end to hear it. 

But more than abuse, more than madness, more than exile to a misbegotten place that somehow managed to beat out Jinlin Tower for sheer viciousness –

It was due to Mo Xuanyu that Wei Wuxian had returned.

He had been willing to give his very life, his body and soul, to bring him back.

And for that, Lan Wangji owed him everything.

Even when it meant –

“We should return to the Cloud Recesses to fetch him,” Lan Wangji said, and Wei Wuxian craned his head around – his tiny, tiny head that could easily fit into Lan Wangji’s palm, covered in a short layer of fur more comfortable than the softest silk – to look at him in curiosity. “I understand that it is a detour.”

“It is,” Wei Wuxian said. “You wouldn’t propose it for no reason, either. What are you afraid of? He’s in the Cloud Recesses, and with Jiang Cheng – surely he’s as safe as safe can be.”

“It is nearly the end of the month,” Lan Wangji said. “My brother will be returning home soon.”

“So?” Wei Wuxian asked, puzzled. And why should he not be puzzled? To even think…and yet. And yet, and yet, and yet. “Jiang Cheng will explain everything to him, won’t he?”

“My brother will be returning home,” Lan Wangji said again. “After a month and more abroad.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him silently, awaiting an explanation. His tail lashed gently against Lan Wangji’s leg.

“He was visiting his sworn brother,” Lan Wangji said. “Lianfeng-jun.”

“Jin Guangyao,” Wei Wuxian said, his tone heavy – he had understood. “Does your brother visit Jinlin Tower often?”

Lan Wangji nodded tightly.

“And has for many years, I expect? Since the end of the Sunshot Campaign.”

He nodded again.

“Surely you don’t believe that he knew what was happening to Mo Xuanyu?”

Lan Wangji hesitated. “I do not know how he could not have known,” he confessed. “I think to myself if I had only been there – if I had overcome my disdain for the Jin sect –”

“Don’t think like that,” Wei Wuxian said at once, a balm to Lan Wangji’s soul. “You couldn’t have known. The Jin sect is the most talented at deception and misdirection – they wouldn’t have let you see. Nor your brother, either - you would have seen only what they wished for you to see, and poisoned the well of your thoughts to discount anything you did see.”

“Perhaps,” Lan Wangji said, and felt more at peace. It was true that even his brother, with his token, could not so easily travel through the depths of Jinlin Tower freely, without an escort. “I do not think Brother knew.”

“I agree. Impossible.”

“And yet - his sworn brother...it is not unheard of for Lianfeng-zun to unexpectedly accompany my brother back to the Cloud Recesses, and I cannot bring myself to believe that he did not know. As a precaution, therefore…”

Wei Wuxian’s ears flicking back and forth. “I see your point. But still, I don’t think it makes sense for us to go to them – why not write to Jiang Cheng and have him bring Mo Xuanyu to meet us here, while we investigate the Chang clan?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“I’d prefer that, anyway – I really can’t use regular cultivation without Mo Xuanyu around, just demonic cultivation. As we continue to hunt for the ghost pieces, it’ll be good to have both.”

Lan Wangji wondered a little at that. In their first life, hadn’t Wei Wuxian completely abandoned normal cultivation in favor of demonic cultivation?

If so, why the shift back now?

“Besides, I have an idea I want to try that involves him,” Wei Wuxian added casually, so casually that Lan Wangji merely nodded and did not question and did not know until it had already happened.

“Success!” Wei Wuxia hissed in delight, then frowned, poking at his teeth. “Well, mostly.”

“You turned yourself into a catboy,” Jiang Cheng said, his hand over his eyes. “Because of course you did. I hate you. Have I mentioned that I hate you? Becuase I hate you.”

“What’s a catboy?” Jin Ling asked. Apparently he had insisted on joining them, as had Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi – Lan Wangji would have instructed them to remain, but Jiang Cheng had yielded more or less immediately to their requests.

Typical.

“You don’t need to know,” Jiang Cheng said at once.

“How do you know?” Wei Wuxian asked. “Jiang Cheng! What are you doing going about knowing things about catboys? We’ve talked about this –”

“What? No we haven’t! We haven’t talked about anything! You spent the entire conversation that we had over catnip crying your eyes out about how tasty pheasants are!”

Lan Wangji had always surmised that there was more to the conversation than that, being as both of them had emerged significantly less likely to murder the other, but he didn’t have any presence of mind to devote to that line of thought.

Or to any thought.

Not when Wei Wuxian was…well, mostly human.

He had his old face, but a build that more closely resembled Mo Xuanyu’s slenderness and height; his hair was the correct shade, but poking out from the strands were two now-familiar ears that flickered back and forth with excitement. And he was also possessed on inhumanly sharp canines, sharp claws, and what appeared to be a very active tail.

All the features attributed to…well.

Catboys.

(Lan Wangji had also seen the specific genre of pornography being referenced and every single one of those images – including his particular favorite, which involved a collar – was refreshing itself in his mind with a new figure in each starring role.

He was going to spontaneously combust.)

He stammered some excuse and fled the scene at once.

By the time he returned, they had more or less packed up to continue following the guidance of the ghost hand – it almost reminded him a proper night-hunt, actually. The adults, such as they were, led the way, with the juniors following behind, chatting amongst themselves; Mo Xuanyu was hanging off of Jiang Cheng’s arm and chattering at Wei Wuxian like old friends, his eyes curved up in crescents, with much of the terrible pain that he had always carried sloughed off like an old skin, while Jiang Cheng nodded along, oblivious to any hint as always.

Lan Wangji was abruptly struck by a feeling of – satisfaction, he thought.

This was good.

(Don’t look at Wei Wuxian or you’ll start slowing down the trip.)

But how could he resist?

He headed over and took his place at Wei Wuxian’s side, receiving a wide smile – he would die a thousand times over for that smile – for his troubles.

“What do you think, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asked him, and then barreled right on with the conversation without bothering to wait for a response.

Yes.

This was good.

This was how it should be.

Even Jiang Cheng, who Lan Wangji had despised for years…he made Wei Wuxian happy. And since that was the case, Lan Wangji would be willing to put up with him – on a temporary basis, anyway.

“What is this place, anyway?” Lan Sizhui asked from behind them.

“It’s called Yi City, with the Yi as in ‘coffin’,” Wei Wuxian said casually. “Didn’t you see the marker outside?”

“A better question,” Jiang Cheng said. “If it’s supposed to be a city, why isn’t there anyone here?”

“There is, though,” Lan Jingyi said, pointing. “Look, over there – huh, no. I must have seen the wrong thing.”

“No,” Mo Xuanyu said, and him actually disagreeing with someone when it wasn’t in the middle of one of his fits   was so unusual – even after he’d had so much healing – that they all turn to look at him.

He was smiling.

“You’re right,” he said, clapping his hands together happily, his eyes fixed on the distant spot. “There is someone there! I can see them!”

He raised a hand and waved.

“Xue-gege!” he shouted. “Xue-gege, it’s A-Yu! Come out and meet my friends!”

[akachaan]

the golden-winged king [xiao]

genre: angst

warnings: death, blood

notes: pls im so proud of this writing BYE

The gentle chirps of birds graced Xiao’s ears. He recognized this as a melody of nature, the sunlight cascading a loving warmth onto his pale skin. Lush and rich grass blew in the breeze, one of the few somethings that Xiao actually appreciated from the Wind Archon. He chuckled breathlessly, a feeling of lighthearted mischief settling upon him. Xiao imagined how Venti would pout and scold him for his unbearably disrespect remarks, as he liked to call them. The grass entwined itself into his gloved hand like a silky ribbon. The light, fluffy clouds passed by, drifting away like dandelion seeds floating in the winds.

Xiao’s legs began to ache— the reason unknown —so he’d sat himself down, assuming he’d been basking in the beauty of the flower field for much too long. Ah, flowers. He’d almost forgotten just how intricately designed they were. Well, as a Guardian Yaksha, there’s only so much you can stop and admire. What were the names of these? The petals were pale blue from the bottom fading into a remarkable teal color, four pastel purple strands sprawling out from the top.

Glaze lilies, he recalled. These flowers only bloom once sung to, yes? He remembers this from a certain... human. He smiles fondly at the thought of them. “Xiao, Xiao!” A familiar and soft voice called. Speak of the devil.

Xiao turned to them, and his breath was caught in his throat. It’s like time slowed down, just for them. Just for him. He took a deep breath, his eyes softening, showing vulnerability he’d been hiding for a millennia. Your shining, soft locks framed your face, [c] eyes shining with love and purity. Xiao had seen skies like an ethereal dream, twinkling like sparklers trapped in the deep cerulean sky... But none of those galaxies and any to come would even compare to your radiant image. You were an angel sent from heaven, one to remind him what life can truly bring upon humanity; people like you.

You were like his little secret of sorts. Not a secret of the world. Anyone could meet or find [Name]. He knew anyone could come and sweep you away from him— though he doesn’t enjoy thinking of such ideas —he knew. It could happen. But, he also knew, and he trusted that you wouldn’t truly leave him, after all they’ve been through. He knew that you confined in him just as he did you, he felt like he was finally certain in his eternity of suffering and emptiness. Days that went by where he felt as if he were just existing. He was not living, he never was. Xiao was simply a guardian, assigned to protect Liyue until he drops dead from exhaustion. He was existing as The Guardian Yaksha, Conquerer of Demons.

But with you, he was not any of those. He was not just existing, watching over a nation til his last breath. Your presence alone made him feel warm. Him feeling was already an achievement in itself, after all these years as standing on the sidelines, secluded; no matter how close to Liyue he physically was, he felt so different and disconnected from his people. He’d only be remembered as tale to be told. The way that you made him feel. Not only have you made him feel, you’ve made him feel warm. A ‘warmth’ that he wishes to bask in for the rest of his existence. Warmth. Xiao knew this wasn’t the word to describe how he truly felt. By definition, yes, Xiao admits, albeit hesitantly. But he couldn’t help but feel it was so much deeper than that. You made him feel a warmth that burned his insides. The feeling had words caught in his throat, he often struggled to form a single coherent sentence when you eyes twinkled with a joy he can’t quite grasp. It made him stutter, the way you looked so blissed and euphoric in his company. He loved it. He loved how the butterflies in his stomach never seized, fluttering and flying with each second. His heart raced like a tiger running after its prey, running at miles per minute. He felt so human. So alive. So loved, and he’s finally experienced what it’s like to love. He never wanted it to end.

You laid yourself onto the luxuriant meadow of nature, the blades of green tickling at your cheek. The sun caressed your skin like a mother would her child, giving you an angelic-like glow. Your eyes had drew closed as you listened to what was around you. Distant animals chirping and buzzing filled your ears along with the synchronized breathing of you and the boy next to you. You smiled, your heart thumping against your chest as savored the peace of this moment.

Xiao turned his head to admire the gift the Archons had given him. He saw how amicable this whole ordeal was and how much you were enjoying it. It wasn’t everyday the two of you had the time to lay down and appreciate each other and what the Earth truly had to offer, though I’m sure that’s been made clear. The soft whisper of his name felt like a melody being sang to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

Another sweet murmur of his name was called. And another. And another. Xiao grew worried. With every purr of his name, he could hear desperation and panic in your tone. That alone had him sick to his stomach. He sat up, his eyes now greeted with an all-too-familiar setting.

The sky was dark with stormy clouds, rain thundering heavily onto the bloodstained ground. The air was no longer crisp and clean but instead reeked of the metallic scent of blood and sweat. He could almost taste the blood on his lips. Xiao looked at his hands, dirtied and course with dried ichor. What was once his peaceful escape of serendipity was now a horrid sight of what he used to be. The murderous machine of what he promised himself to cast away since The Archon War. Screams of retreat, pain, defeat and victory mixed in his head, which was now throbbing from the sudden change in scenery. Why was he here?

More importantly, where were you?

“Xiao... Thank god you’re alive.” Your broken voice chuckled, growing dryer in the passing seconds. His head snapped to you, who was laying on the floor, absolutely beaten up. His heart ached at the sight, and he reached to gently cup your face, as if one wrong move could completely shatter you. You gasped for air before continuing, “I knew you would survive. There’s,” You paused to cough harshly, your body crumbling as the cough was let out, “no way the Xiao I know would loose to anyone.” He pulled you closer to his lap, panic and adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew there was nothing he could do. But he still tried. He still tried to grasp onto what little hope he had left; it was all happening too quickly.

“Hang on. I’ve got you, okay?” He choked out after the initial shock. The time you have left and the time he would be able to get you proper medical attention were so obviously not in his favor. He picked you up, carrying you on his back. And he just ran. His legs moved like he was going to die if he didn’t hurry. Quite frankly, he would most definitely die emotionally. Xiao couldn’t loose you. Not now, not ever. He wanted to live with you until your died of old age, peacefully where you could’ve smiled on your deathbed. He remembers how you used to get mad at him for carrying you like this. The way your cheeks heated up and you buried your face into his neck always got a goofy smile on his face. But now, you were clinging onto his back as best you could— though it was a loose grip, you used what energy you had left in you to let him know you were still there with him.

But soon, too soon, you wouldn’t be, and you both knew it. “Xiao,” you called weakly.

“I said hang on. I’ll get you medical help soon. Please, keep your eyes open. You still have time.”

“Xiao...”

“You can’t leave me like this. I swore to hold you and protect you and love you for the rest of my life. Out of the many promise I’ve broken I can’t... I can’t break this one.”

“Xiao, listen...” The utter amount of suffering in your voice tore him apart more than the searing pains in his limbs. He knew he wouldn’t be able to make it in time no matter how fast he ran. So he obliged to your request and set you in his lap once again. He stared at your face, covered in dirt and scars. Yet you still looked at beautiful as ever.

“Please. Don’t go. I won’t know what to do without you.”

“I’m always here with you even if...” You trailed off, both from the lack of oxygen you had and the discomfort of finishing your own sentence. You felt tears brimming in your eyes, as you saw Xiao in such a vulnerable and tormented state. “Xiao...”

He caressed your face like a mother would her child. The sting of his heart drowned any physical injuries he had. Nothing would hurt more than the thought of losing you. The grass scratched at your cheek, and you winced at the feeling. Xiao tucked a hair strand behind your ear. As he leaned down to press his forehead against yours.

“Xiao... You are and forever will be my Golden-Winged King.”

And that was when the tears spilled. Your body went cold and limp in his own very hands, your eyes that shone with love and purity where now dark and lifeless. The smile that lit up his world was gone; replaced with a face of sorrow eternally etched onto your features. Xiao wondered. Death was a pitiful punishment, yet somehow so enchanting. You still looked as heavenly as ever. It was only then the pain of truly losing you settled in. You were never going to grace his ears with your melodic voice. You were never going to grace his eyes with your smile. You were never going to grace his senses with your adoring hugs.

You were never to grace his life again.

The Golden-Winged King had a fall from grace, just as you did in his own very arms.

[insfiringyou]

BTS - Going Solo (Part Two) - Jimin x Ara

Contains: Angst. *Potential trigger warning for mentions of depression/mental illness*

Set a week following ‘Going Solo Part One’, Ara returns home and has to face the reality of how she has been feeling lately.

You can find out more about our headcanon universe and ongoing storyline here and more about our headcanon girlfriends here.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook & our full masterlist of fanart and fanfictions can be found here

If you wish to follow all member’s storylines in chronological order from the beginning, you can find them listed here.

Content below the cut

Dawn was breaking outside of the window as Ara flew through the clouds; eyeing clusters of towns and cities below as the plane changed altitude. She held her phone loosely in her hands, glimpsing down at the single word typed out in the notes app, knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish the sentence. 

Jimin…

Her ears were popping and her head hurt; a mixture of dehydration, lack of sleep and the changing pressure inside the cabin and she lowered her device with a sigh, tucking it neatly in her handbag as she shifted in the chair. She doubted she would be able to get any sleep before the plane landed, but it was worth a try. Her manager had reminded her to pack her padded pillow and she slipped it around her neck before reaching for her lavender-scented eye mask, blocking out the dim light and closing her eyes.

***

Jimin…

His name rang around her head and she fought the urge to take out her phone again. She knew what the unfinished message said; she hadn’t been able to get any further than that one word, despite the hours she had tried typing it out. The duvet was soft beneath her backside and she eyed her unpacked suitcase on the floor. One wheel was coming off and she would have to get a new one soon. She wondered if the suitcase was a metaphor for her life and stifled back a laugh, clutching her hands to her face when she realised it sounded more like a sob. She couldn’t cry though...she had already tried. Staring at the plain, white wall in her bedroom, she had spent the past half hour urging the tears to come; wanting to feel something, but the most she could manage was a half-strangled moan; the catharsis she so desperately needed never coming. Her eyes were bone dry and a little sore.��

She twisted to glance at the clock above the bed and realised she wouldn’t be able to keep herself awake long enough to wait for him to come home. He was at the studio with Jungkook, working on a duet for the younger member’s new album and was bound to lose track of the time; it was inevitable. Ara remembered early in their relationship one time she had spent an afternoon cooking for him, reading the recipe carefully from an old book she had picked up second hand and measuring the ingredients in meticulously accurate amounts. It had come out a little burnt, but she felt proud for having made something for someone else. He had been late home that night and the dinner had gone cold. She hadn’t blamed him; he was still making music with the group back then and the younger members had invited him back to their shared apartment to play video games after dance practice. She had told him her intentions that morning but, it turned out he had either forgotten or didn’t quite believe her when she said she would cook for them both. He had always underestimated her back then but who could blame him? She underestimated herself too. 

Ara realised she had laid down at some point during the past ten minutes but couldn’t remember doing it. The bed suddenly felt very big and very warm, the blankets thick and cosy and she allowed herself to close her eyes, just for a moment or two…

***

Ara grunted at the sound of the door opening on its hinges and opened her eyes. The room took a few moments to come into focus and, with some effort, she rolled onto her side towards the sound. Jimin’s head was poking around the side of the doorframe and she gave another tired grunt. 

“I didn’t want to wake you.” He whispered, a shy grin fixed on his face. 

She rubbed her eyes, watching as he creeped towards her, trying to be quiet despite her having already woken. He was holding a shoebox; a pink ribbon tied across the centre, and he placed it on the floor carefully. “What time is it?” She yawned. 

“Just gone eight. I’m sorry it took me so long.” When he reached the edge of the bed, he kneeled onto the sheets, crawling across to where she was laying and joining her side. He smiled sweetly, running his fingers through the tips of her hair. “I like the purple.”

She gave another grunt in response, clearing her throat. “I thought you liked the pink?” Her voice was still gruff from sleep and she suspected her hair was just as messy, but he kissed her anyway, pecking her cheek gently. 

“I like both.” He pulled away to look at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. “I like you.”

“You too.” She murmured. 

 “Did you have a long journey?” He asked, running a hand along her back until he reached her hip which he held steady. 

She nodded against the sheets. “I had to be up at four.”

“In the morning?”

“Yeah.” She confirmed. “We had a lot of luggage to check in.”

He shifted a little against the duvet until his knees touched hers. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” She mumbled, still feeling tired and achy from the journey. 

“Do you want to see what I bought you?” He asked hopefully. She looked past his shoulders towards the edge of the bedroom where she could just make out the box. 

“Shoes?” She guessed, eyes following as he turned around and slid gracefully off the bed, picking up the package and bringing it to her. She made an effort to sit up a little as he handed it to her.

Jimin grinned widely, his excitement obvious. “Open it.”

She hesitated before tugging on the ribbon. It came apart easily and she lifted the white lid carefully off the box, lightly fingering through the tissue paper to reveal the present. The shoes matched the ribbon and were just as delicate looking; the satin fabric shimmered in the light. She stared at them, as though transfixed. 

“Do you like them?” 

She looked up at him, head still groggy from her extended nap. Her headache hadn’t yet subsided completely and it took a moment to realise he had asked a question. “Why?” She frowned, not fully understanding what he had asked.

He shrugged easily. “I thought they’d look nice on you.”

She folded the tissue back over the heels, covering them once more before she put on the lid. “Thank you.” She belatedly replied. “I didn’t bring you anything.” 

Jimin took the box from her and gently lowered it to the foot of the bed before joining her when she leaned back against the pillow. “That’s not true…” He shook his head, reaching forward to hold her body against him. He was silent for a few moments, stroking her hip, before he whispered. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” She replied, equally quiet.

“Were you lonely?” He kept his voice low as he appreciated her features; eyes drifting across her nose and lips and cheeks. 

She nodded. “It was hard.”

Jimin’s heart seemed to sink at her words and he stroked her arm lovingly, moving along her soft, pale skin until he reached her shoulder where the edge of her white camisole shielded the rest from view. “I missed you a lot.” He admitted, moving forward to kiss her forehead. Her skin was warm to the touch and he wondered if she might be getting a fever. He pulled away lightly, observing the way her eyelids seemed too heavy for their sockets. 

“I know.” She mumbled understandably, closing her eyes. 

He gave a soft chuckle, rubbing her shoulder with his fingertips. “You really need some sleep don’t you?”

She nodded against the pillow. “Sleep would be nice.”

He spoke no more, watching her expression as she fell deeper and deeper into sleep, her chest rising and falling gently until it was barely moving at all. Jimin held her carefully, not wanting to leave her side but knowing it was too early for him to join her. Still, he remained, listening to the calming sounds of her gentle breathing along with the steady, lulling tick of the clock above the bed. 

***

Jimin had finally fallen asleep some time after ten and judging by the deep, red grooves which lined his forearms, he must have slept deeply. The blinds had been left open a little and a stark, white early morning light filled the room, indicating he had managed a decent few hours. He wondered if the good night was thanks to Ara’s presence. The past few weeks he had found himself tossing and turning incessantly, having to get up once or twice to grab himself a snack or watch a little T.V while he wondered what she was doing; whether the time zones matched up or if she was just getting up, ready to make her daily appearance on a foreign talk show or driving to some arena for rehearsals. It took him a moment to realise she was not beside him, though an indent remained on the pillow. He looked around the room, noticing a few of the drawers on the far side had been left open; a few of his sweatshirts sticking out from the edge. Slowly, he sat up, blinking a few times as he observed the wardrobe at the foot of the bed was likewise opened wide. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought it had been fuller the last time he had checked. A few of her dresses remained, suspended on coat hangers, but there were a good few missing. Quickly, and with a fair amount of panic, he shuffled out of bed, pulling open the bedroom door and walking down the small hallway into the kitchen. 

“Ara?” He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her seated at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea clutched between her hands. She was staring straight ahead, though looked up at the sound of his voice. He only just noticed the dark bags beneath her eyes, now she was bare faced. His eyes flickered towards the sink where her suitcase was tucked, flush against the cupboards. He frowned. “Where are you going?”

Ara looked away, voice empty. “Back on tour.”

He opened his mouth to respond before closing it, his chest sinking heavily at the realisation she wasn’t making any sense. He took a step closer to the table, dread coursing through his veins. She had been tired the night before, unusually so, but had seemed herself at least. He wondered what new medication the doctors had put her on and whether it was somehow messing with her head. “Are you okay?” He slowly asked, bending down to face her.  

She sighed. “Not really.”

His forehead wrinkled heavily. “Have I done something wrong?”

She turned to look at him, their faces at equal heights and now he could see how much older she suddenly looked. When she didn’t reply, he continued, failing to hide his confusion. 

“You just got back. Your contract is over.”

She shook her head solemnly. “No it isn’t.”

His heart sank. “What do you mean?” He whispered. 

“I signed a new one.” 

Her voice was calm and Jimin realised she was telling the truth, though he couldn’t quite process what was happening. “When?” He asked, a little higher than expected. 

“Last week.” She murmured. “When I was in Tokyo.”

He looked her in the eye, forcing himself to meet her gaze despite the unsteadiness he felt in his limbs as he crouched beside her. “For how long?”

“Seven years.”

He shook his head in disbelief, hardly able to comprehend what he was hearing. There was no emotion in her voice; no sense of joy or excitement that would signal what she was telling him was good news. He found himself reaching for her hand, desperate to hold onto something that would keep him steady. Her fingers were cold against his; thin and delicate in his loose grasp. “I didn’t think that was what you wanted.” He eventually said, only just managing to get the words out. 

She was looking at their hands, eyes fixed on the space where they connected, but she turned away, gazing out of the window at the blank, grey sky. “I don’t know what I want…” She admitted, turning back when he let go of her to stand back up; her eyes followed him and he saw them glisten in the stark light. “It’s easier this way.”

“What about moving house?” He asked, the hurt in his voice obvious. “You’ll hardly be at home.”

She frowned below her blonde bangs. “I’m not sure I want to move house.”

He shook his head, trying to stay calm. “You could have just said.” He shrugged, keeping his voice low. “Instead of signing a new contract.”

She was silent for a moment, taking a few deep breaths while Jimin waited for her to respond. 

“I’m not sure I want to move house…” She spoke slowly, only realising as she said it that it was true. “Because I’m not sure if I want to be with you anymore.” Her own admission shocked her into silence though she felt no sense of relief as Jimin stared at her, silent for a long time before his lip trembled. 

“Are you serious?”

Ara nodded slowly. “I’ve felt like this for a while…” She confessed. “But I couldn’t do it before.”

His eyes dropped to the floor, though his voice came out high-pitched and squeaky. “What have I done?”

The sight of him filled her with sadness and for the first time that morning she felt her emotions with clarity. It took her a moment to work out how to respond and when she did, he looked at her with tears in his eyes. 

“It wouldn’t be fair on you...” She murmured, her own voice breaking. “When I’m not sure how I feel.” 

His eyes darted back to the suitcase, a low whimper escaping his lips. “So you’re leaving me?”

She nodded, her emotions bubbling to the surface. She held back a sob, needing to say it clearly. “I think I have to.” Once the words left her lips, she finally let go. It was like a dam had broken inside her; one which had been in place for so long, and she cried openly, unable to hold it back any longer. Jimin moved forward, wrapping her in his arms as she clung to him, standing up to press herself against his body and hooking her arms around his neck.

“I love you…” He mouthed against her hair and she let out a sob, her tears dampening the crook of his neck as he pleaded with her. “You don’t have to leave.”

She shook her head against him, words thick with tears. “I do…I do!”

“I don’t want you to go.” His voice broke and she held him closer, squeezing his body. 

“Don’t cry Jimin.” She whispered. “Please…”

He held her steady by the waist as he moved away, trying to look at her. “When will you be back?”

She shook her head again, looking away. “I’m not sure.” Her hands moved to her face, trying to cover it from view but he took them gently in his own.

“I can wait for you…” He moved with her as she wriggled in his grasp and held her face steady, thumb brushing her cheekbones, trying to get her to look at him. “I can wait for you!” He repeated, locking eyes with her. Her own were impossibly wide, glistening with tears, but she nodded against his palms. “Don’t give up on us Ara.” He whispered. 

Her mouth quivered, opening and closing. “I need to think about this.” She muttered.

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He caressed her cheekbones again, wiping her tears. They were both trembling and she held him tighter, hands clasping behind his neck. 

“And if I meet someone else?” She asked, voice wobbling at the thought.

He shook his head, continuing to hold her steady. “Do what you feel is right…” His lips moved to her wet cheek and he kissed it lovingly, lingering there while her body shook against him. Slowly, he moved to the corner of her mouth and she tilted her head, pressing her lips to his. Their mouths opened softly, tears merging as they held each other for a few moments, their noses brushing as they kissed. Slowly, they moved away in unison and she ran her lips across his smooth cheek before touching them to his helix, mouthing against his skin.

“Don’t be mad at me.” She pleaded.

“How could I be mad at you?” He murmured against her, slowly pulling away. When she looked at him, he was smiling, though his cheeks glistened with tears; both his and her own. He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “You’re the love of my life Ara.” He admitted. 

Ara nodded dumbly, mouth open, feeling her eyes sting. “There’s never been anyone else…” She agreed, realising she was crying again when she tasted the hot, salty liquid on her tongue, though she didn’t try to hide it this time. 

He let out a long sigh, allowing her a bit of space as he took a step back. “If I call you, will you answer?”

She hesitated, before nodding. “I’ll try.”

He looked up from across the small space, speaking steadily, needing her to understand what he was saying. “I want to know you’re safe.” He held her gaze. “Promise me you’ll talk to someone.”

“I have a meeting every month.” She explained.

“Sooner!” He pleaded, reaching out and taking both her hands in his, the urgency in his voice obvious. “Promise me you’ll see them sooner if you’re feeling blue again.”

Her eyebrows were knitted together but she nodded in agreement. “I will…” She gave his hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Do you have anyone too?”

“Don’t worry about me.” He dismissed, looking at the space where they were still connected; her small, fragile-looking hands knitted through his. “Please get better…” He whispered, squeezing her lightly in response. 

“I’ll try.” She replied quietly, allowing him to let go as she bent down to collect her suitcase from the floor. 

“You can always come home.” His voice came from behind her and she looked back at him. “If it gets too much for you…” He said. “I’ll be here.”

She nodded, understanding and knowing it was true. 

“Where will you go?” He asked gently. 

Ara wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, collecting herself. “To see my dad. I have meetings later this week...about my contract and the tour.”

“Does he know you’re travelling to Ulsan? Is he expecting you?” Jimin asked, wanting to make sure she had a plan. 

She shook her head lightly. “No.” She admitted. “But he’ll want to see me. My brother too…it’s been two years.”

Jimin nodded, gesturing towards the red case. “Let me drive you to the station.” He offered. 

She thought for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”

He walked around the edge of the table before she could protest and scooped down to pull up the extendable handle of the case. She followed his lead into the hallway, where he left the luggage on the welcome mat by the front door. The thick rug was pink and decorated with daisies; Ara had chosen it during a trip to a shopping mall shortly before her audition and it had sat there ever since, a reminder of the life she had led before. She glanced at it as Jimin edged past her, into the bedroom at the end of the hall. He came out a moment later, the shoe box he had gifted her tucked under his arm. Ara remained silent, watching as he placed it on top of the suitcase, balanced steadily between his body and the handle, before he opened the front door. 

***

Thank you for reading. To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM   /   Jin /   Suga  /   J-Hope   /   Jimin   /   V   /   Jungkook

& Our full masterlist of fics and original art can be found here

& Our masterlist of preferences/most likely to/quizzes and fun stuff is here

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[rosethornewrites]

Wednesday and Thursday T & G reading

The usual

Finished

Tumblr:

Praise, by @bloody-bee-tea

Scars, by @gravitywonagain

Teen:

Breakfast of Champions, by Chrononautical

Lan Zhan leaves Wei Ying breakfast in bed every day. Until one morning, he wakes up and it isn't there.

ghost in your arms, by DizziDreams (5 chapters)

Sometimes, it was a movement caught out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, it was a door he had shut swinging slowly open.

Sometimes it was a book falling open to a long forgotten poem.

Sometimes it was a phantom of sound, a laugh, maybe, though he was never certain if that was just a memory.

He didn't look too closely at these things. Strange things happened, but it didn't mean anything.

It didn't mean anything, until that night when he tucked a-Yuan into bed, and his son said, "Will you read me a bedtime story?"

"I have already read you a story," Lan Wangji replied.

"Not you, a-die," his son said, "the smiling man."

All the Colors of You, by Lisa_Telramor

Lan Wangji had never heard of a one-sided soulbond. And yet that seems to be his fate since Wei Wuxian brought color to his life but didn't seem to see color in return. One-sided or not, it didn't change how he fell for Wei Wuxian all the same.

Diedie's precious hair, by Miloca

Baby Yuan loves to pull his Diedie's hair but that is not always good for Wei Ying.

General:

啮臂之盟; to pledge with a bite on the arm, by sunsandships

Let’s imagine a world where Jiang Fengmian, not exactly a scholar in the usual sense, nevertheless had an inordinate fondness of four-word idioms. He liked the simple, concise elegance of them, of expressing so much with so little.

Let’s imagine in this world, when Jiang Fengmian took Wei Wuxian home and told him he is no longer 举目无亲 (jǔ mù wú qīn), eyes raised to see no one familiar, Wei Wuxian fell a little in love with the power of four words neatly grouped together as well.

(Much later, in a dark, damp cave with the sun scorched over his heart and Lan Wangji biting down on his arm harshly enough to leave markings of his teeth behind, this small love for neat groupings of four words will change everything. But he doesn’t know this just yet.)

Win Some, Lose Some, by nirejseki

“A-Jue, I’m sorry,” the ghost said, and well, shit, Wei Wuxian hadn’t realized the ghost that he'd brought with him from the battlefield was new enough to actually know Nie Mingjue personally. “I didn’t mean to – you know I didn’t –”

Nie Mingjue opened his mouth a few times, not saying anything, and then, just when Wei Wuxian thought he was just going to give up, he finally said in a very small voice: “…a-die?”

…well.

Shit.

Self regulation means I get to choose, by OurLadyoftheRain

“The forehead ribbon means self-regulation. You must wear it always, as you are a Lan disciple now, and must always be mindful of your thoughts and actions, carrying with you the rules of our sect. Only your family or your fated one are allowed to touch it, for it is with them only that you will be able to let go of self restraint”.

So, if it the forehead ribbon kept him restricted to the rules, does that mean he doesn't have to follow them if he takes it off?

your hand, i will hold it tight / your heart, i will know it always, by puddingcatbeans

After everything, Wei Ying goes back to Gusu with Lan Wangji. Over the years, Lan Wangji watches as Cloud Recesses rearranges itself to make a home for Wei Ying, too.

Until next time, by luckymoonly

The two minute wait until he could check his result was excruciating as Wei Wuxian paced around the tiny restroom; checking his reflection in the mirror and playing with his hair as his heart pounded even faster.

Ah, they were so ready to have this little one!

And yet, when Wei Wuxian looked at the test when his waiting time was up, it wasn’t the expected result that he saw.

Unfinished

Teen:

The Yiling Wei Sect Blooms in Adversity, by Wei Huihua (Nanibgal)

Jin Guangyao took careful, measured steps through the hall, stepping out to the courtyard to get just one more breath of fresh air before the newest batch of chaos. Perhaps it wasn't so bad that he was taking some pride in his work- it was no small feat to puppet the great Wei Wuxian and his esteemed Jin relatives. Ah, it was worth cracking another genuine smile, at least.

Just in time, the communication talisman grew hot in his robe, and he pulled it out to reveal the message from Su Minshan:

WEI WUXIAN DID NOT COME

I Hear a Symphony, by Blueroses27

It has been 13 years, 13 years since the burial mounds were cut off from the rest of the world. No one was heard from the Yiling Patriarch, not even the Jiang siblings. Most have assumed it was to amass power but after 13 years they stopped preparing and moved on; until a letter with a fox seal finds it's way on to Sect Leader Lan Xichen's desk.

Duet, by ChalionKat

"Who is it they want me to duet with?”

“No,” Lan Wangji said.

Unsurprisingly, this did not close the conversation. Xichen followed him into the rehearsal room.

“Wangji, you need to do something. Your sales have been solid until now, but never spectacular, and now they’re declining. The label is concerned. They’re threatening to pull funding unless you do something to bring in new audiences.”

“To ‘sex myself up’, you mean,” Lan Wangji said, not even attempting to hide his distaste.

happier than ever ver. 2, by Edith343redwood

A modern AU where Jiang Cheng betrays Wei Wuxian....how will he react?

Birdsong, by lilcakes

He grabs the washcloth that lay beside the pot and dips it into the cooling water and makes gentle work of cleaning A-Yuan’s face and hands from the dirt and ash that litter his tiny body. He wonders, for a moment, if Wei Wuxian were here, would he care for A-Yuan the same way.

If he were here, he would not be needing to care for a sickly child, the thought leaves something bitter burning deep in his chest and he shakes himself of the thought before continuing his meticulous work.

Almost as soon as Lan Wangji has little A-Yuan’s face cleaned, and a clean warm washcloth over his forehead, Lan Xichen makes another appearance.

“Wangji. Please.” Cautiously, as though he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly, his brother will break, Lan Xichen steps into his sleeping quarters. “Didi, rest. Let me change your bandages.”

Or 13 years Wangji grieved and raised his son by himself and the 1 year he didn't have to.

General:

The Trouble With Politics: a Treatise on Jiang Sect Deputies Gone Rogue by Sect Leader Wei Wuxian, by stiltonbasket

Jin Zixuan dies. A siege is called at the Nightless City. A bodyguard flees from the Jinlintai, and journeys to the Burial Mounds to fulfill a life debt to the Ghost General.

Lan Wangji just wants to woo Wei Wuxian in peace, and figure out if Jiang-zongzhu's ex-deputy will ever stop trying to chaperone them.

(Or, the one where Yu Zhenhong stands by his da-shixiong, and becomes the head disciple of the rising Yiling Wei sect.)

[cuppasunu]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

synopsis: where juyeon loses all his memories after a terrible accident. many years later he’s bound to marry another woman—not knowing their photographer used to be his girlfriend of seven years. will he remember their love?

genre: series (fluff; angst; suggestive)

pairing: lee juyeon x fem. reader

playlist: spotify link

status: completed.

w/c: 1.4K words

once more masterlist

kyu is listening to ... take her to the moon by moira dela torre

[2018]

“So, a spring wedding would probably be perfect for this venue, right y/n?” Juyeon’s fiancée, Sihyeon asks, breaking your trance reminiscing about your memories with Juyeon. 

“I’m sorry, I was distracted.. This is where you’re holding the wedding?” you asked, nearly choking on your water.

“Well, the date isn’t until spring next year so we’re still looking for options. It’s funny how my love actually insisted on the idea of having our engagement shoot to be done in a flower field..” she laughs, but hearing that just digs a deeper wound inside you, realizing this is exactly where Juyeon has taken you on dates. 

Taking a deep breath, you excuse yourself and leave the couple to look around the location. Your eyes cannot peel away from Juyeon’s smile, it looks like it could reach from one ear to the other. 

he looks so happy..

Rushing on your way to the back door, you bump into a person.. maybe two (?) coming from the parking lot. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sor-”

“y/n.”

Hearing that familiar voice, your eyes immediately dart up meeting your old friend, Changmin. You glance past his shoulders—there’s Chanhee and Kevin. That persistent feeling of wanting to run away? Oh, it’s back and it’s even more intense. 

Before you can even move your feet, Changmin grabs a hold of your wrist out to the parking lot, checking if the four of you are out of the couple’s sight. 

“Y/n.. did you meet them already?” Kevin’s genuine concern is present on his face, but you’re not really sure if that’s for you or his dear friend. 

“Did you tell him the truth?” Changmin asks.

“Hold on- I think I need some explanation on my end too! I didn’t know I was meeting him today, much less find out he’s getting married and he doesn’t remember me? What happened? Does he remember you? When did the accident happen?” you finally burst, tears streaming down your face. 

You all stood there in silence, trying to make the situation make sense. Changmin looked like he was going to say something, and his expression seems like he wants to burn you alive. 

“..we should have come earlier..” Chanhee hisses out of frustration, while putting the effort of calming Changmin down.

“We don’t owe you anything, y/n. Not one explanation. Especially when you br- when you left Juyeon.”

His stinging words hurt as if it just slapped you across the face. You chose to keep your mouth shut, knowing how much those words may have been painful, it was equally as accurate. 

“Well, you know most of it. Before the accident, he already got rid of all your pictures, memories, everything.. So when we found out he had amnesia, we all thought it would be better to not remind him of you,” Kevin explained, “It’s better this way, y/n. They’re happy. He’s happy, now. And all those memories he had of you, it doesn’t hurt him anymore..”

but he forgot all our good ones too..

You sink down on the bench, processing the mess you have entered. The concrete was rough as you threw your head, leaning on the wall, “Is it too late to back out now?”

“Honestly, yea. Sihyeon has been raving about your work for months now. She’s been so excited about the thought of working with you but obviously we can’t stop her without raising any questions about your past with Juyeon,” Chanhee replies, “That’s why we were hoping to catch you before they did in case it all went wrong.”

“.. so she doesn’t know either..”

“She doesn’t. So please, keep this up. Until they get married at least. If you leave now, you’re going to have to explain why,” Changmin mutters bitterly, “Can you really live with the thought of hurting Juyeon again when he realizes the past five years of his life has been a lie?” 

You shake your head, coming into terms with everything that’s going to happen. You stood up from your seat, fixing your hair and wiping away your tears.

“How long have they been together?”

“2 years.”

[2008  — flashback]

“Y/n, it’s unfair to be pretty and smart and talented AND be in a relationship..” your best friend, Mina, jokingly complains. 

“And I think it’s time I set you up with one of Juyeon’s friends,” you replied, making the final touches on your hair in front of the mirror, “Hm, what about Kevin? Maybe Changmin?”

“Oh no, I’m not a sorry case! I’m perfectly satisfied being single,” she smiles, “Less distractions too, I have college to think about missy.”

“Who said that I’ll be abandoning my dreams for a relationship?” you protest.

“Alright- alright, I know you know better than that. It has worked for more than a year.. “

“Two years! It’s our second year anniversary today,” telling her as your ears perk up to hear the sound of your doorbell, “He’s here.”

“Now, have fun on your date!” Mina fixes your collar before ushering you out the door.

After waving your goodbye, you made your way to the gate, light on your steps. Juyeon is standing outside, sniffing a small bundle of tulips before hiding it behind his back when he hears you coming. 

“Hi hun, happy second year anniversary!”

Juyeon greets you with a kiss on the forehead before presenting the flowers to you, “Hey babe, happy anniversary.”

“As always, you know which one’s my favorite,” you tell him, beaming at the buds of vibrant orange on your hand.

“It never changes, y/n,” he pokes fun at your reaction, “Actually I switched it up this time. It’s orange instead of the usual pink.”

“Ha ha,” you laugh sarcastically.

While walking to the bus stop, Juyeon tells you that today’s location will be a secret. But judging on the basket he’s holding, it’s not much of a surprise.

“I have an idea~”

“That’s not fair..” he huffs.

“You baby. Okay, I won’t ruin the surprise. I’ll wait when we get there.” 

And as you guessed, he picked the Seoul Forest as your picnic location. Thankfully, on this cool spring day, it’s the perfect balance of sunny but windy weather. He lays down a blanket on the shade and sets the food he brought out of the basket.

“Wow, did you make all of this?” you’re amazed at the variety of snacks he made.

“I really should say Chanhee did all the work and I just ‘helped’ but I’m always trying to impress you so I’ll take the credit,” Juyeon sheepishly grins.

“Oh sure, yes. My chef boyfriend,” you say, pinching his cheek.

Juyeon scrunches his nose upon hearing that—boyfriend. It’s been two years since you gave him that sweet yes to his adorable confession, but he’s not going to get used to hearing you call him your boyfriend anytime soon. Of course you notice the way he gets shy when you do, so in every possible moment, you made sure to call him that. 

“Right- my gifts,” you remember, grabbing your bag for the small box you’ve prepared to give him.

With raised eyebrows, his eyes follow the box you’ve given him. Opening the ribbon that tied it prettily, Juyeon scans through the envelopes that carry the letters you wrote. Inside, there’s also a handkerchief neatly folded at the bottom of the box.

“You can read the letters later,” you mumble, “but quick, look at the handkerchief and check the embroidery.”

He touches the edge of the light blue fabric— L J Y with a tiny arrow right beside it. At the same time, you pulled your own handkerchief to show him where you have stitched your own initials at the same place, but instead had a heart right next to it. 

You look at his expression to gauge his reaction, and Juyeon’s face says it all. You swore he was so close shedding a tear or two, his eyes watering at the brim. Now, that genuinely surprised you; he wasn’t the type of guy that would seem to be easily moved. 

“Do you like it?” you ask him.

“Do I like it? y/n.. I love it,” he sighs, cupping your cheek on his hand, “Thank you.”

You got on your knees to reach over the food and give him a peck on the lips. Feeling his smile pressed against you, he goes back in to kiss you again. It was sweet and tender—the way you would describe your relationship.

The rest of the afternoon went by like a blur, but all it reminds you was that it was a day well spent.

previous : next

a/n: oooh we met the rest of 98z !! why are they so mad that y/n’s back.. hm? gee i wonder why :> anyhow feel free to shoot me any asks of your theories muahahahah. i mean the plot is pretty much all done but i’m curious about what you think heehee

taglist:

@fullsunsays @haylo4ever @fleurseoul @deobi-pabo @amajeekies @lsangyeons @mydaintydaisy @sunwoowuvbot @elcie-chxn​ @zyoumeval​ @autumnleafez​ @nyuwings​ @hae-chans​ @mistresskate101​ @heartyyjeno​ @nanadreamies​ @bacardihs​ @sanniescat​ @gughoul​ @hhjvlogs

please let me know if you would like to be included or taken out <3

[hhunjins]

[5:28 pm]

Hwang Hyunjin; “What gives you the right to just waltz back into my life after all the pain you’ve caused?” (angst)

Word count: ~1300

Warnings: none

Notes: I loved writing this so much, I might actually rewrite and turn it into a longer thing lmaoooo. (mentioned felix/reader)

Hyunjin had always wanted more. He dreamed of things bigger and better, just barely out of reach but so close he could almost taste it. You remember nights where he would scale the back wall and crawl in through your window, only to curl up by your side and fall asleep with tears staining his cheeks. He was just a boy. A boy with fantasies to chase and all the means to do it.

The town was too small for him.

Loving Hyunjin, the now richest man in town since his parents’ passing, was not easy. Yet you still did. Even when he walked in and out of your life, trampling over your feelings like they were nothing more than the welcome mat laid out for his entrance.

“I’ll be back in three months,” he told you. His eyes glittered with excitement, beamed at the prospect of the world at his fingertips. “And I’ll tell you all about it. I promise.”

Hyunjin returned in three months like he said he would, a little more sun-kissed, a little more grown. In the months afterwards, you noticed the wanderlust in his eyes. Staring out into sea. Eyes wandering in the direction of the mountains, probably wondering what was on the other side. Adventure pumped in his blood, its calling stronger than your want to keep him at home with you.

And so it began. Hyunjin set off again to see the world. He returned every time like he promised, but the months began to stretch on for forever until he spent more time away than he did with you.

Then came his biggest endeavor.  

“I struck a deal with the captain of one of the ships on the dock. They’re sailing to the new land.” Even in the dark, you saw how his eyes lit up. “I don’t know how long it’ll take to get there, but I’m so excited, y/n.”

Your stomach sunk. “What about me?” you asked. Though you were laying in his arms, feeling his chest rise and fall under your hand, it already felt like Hyunjin was on that ship, sailing out into the big blue. “What about us?”

Hyunjin had tightened his hold around you, pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Once I’m back, we’ll get married. No more adventures. I promise you that.”

You held onto that promise like a lifeline. You didn’t know how far the new land was, but every moment without Hyunjin felt like an eternity. In the passing months, every time a ship with deep red sails came to the docks, you would be there waiting, searching for a familiar face.

Every time, you were disappointed.

Months bled into years. There were no letters, no rumors about anything from the new land. On the third anniversary of Hyunjin’s departure, the ship with deep red sails returned to port. Except Hyunjin wasn’t there.

“He stayed in the new land,” a crewmate said.

“Did he leave a message for me?”

The man looked at you, squinting under the midday sun. “Nope.”

So that was that. Rejection. All there was left was the bitter taste of resentment. He had had strung you along like a puppet for years, keeping you at the edges of his heart so he’d always have you chasing him for more. How were you such a fool to fall for it?

You stopped looking out to sea. Stopped waiting for someone who’d hurt you again and again.

Felix wasn’t like that. He wasn’t like that at all. When you married him four years later, there wasn’t a trace of Hyunjin in your thoughts. You slowly forgot about the man who held your heart and crushed it in his palm. You didn’t need him anymore. No baseless promises, no heartbreak.

Until today.

For a moment, you swore your heart stopped beating in its cage when you opened that door.

Hyunjin is glowing, sun bleached hair tied up in a ponytail, grin wide. His eyes are crinkled into the crescent moons as he beams. “I’ve missed you,” he says. “It’s been so long.”

All you can do is stare. Hyunjin is alive. Hyunjin is here. It’s like nothing has changed. Except everything has.

“You moved to a new house,” he continues. “I had to go searching for you. Didn’t the Lees used to live here? It’s a nice house though. Can you come outside? I have to tell you all about my adventures. Look, I even got you a–”

“Why are you here?”

Hyunjin freezes. “Y/n? I-I said I’d be back. And now I am.” The grin has slipped off his face, replaced with confusion at your hostility. “It’s you, right? My y/n?”

“I’m not yours,” you spit. “Don’t come back.” You move to shut the door, but Hyunjin grabs onto it before you can.

“Wait. What’s wrong? Why are you mad at me?”

It’s the audacity of the question that angers you even more. “Why am I mad at you? Is that a question you can ask me, Hyunjin? You walked out of my life for almost ten years. Ten years! I got nothing from you. No letters. No messages. I had to ask someone from the ship where you were, and I hear you’ve stayed in the new land. How am I supposed to feel!”

“But I’m back now. Like I said I would be.”

“What gives you the right to just waltz back into my life after all the pain you’ve caused? After you left me for years with nothing to hold onto? What you said years ago means nothing. I had no idea if you were alive, if you had any plans of coming back, if you still loved me!”

“Y/n, who’s at the door?”

You spin around, smiling softly at Felix standing in the hallway. “I can handle it, just go back inside. Tell the kids to wash up for dinner.”

You hear Hyunjin whisper, “kids?” and the broken sound of it makes your heart ache.

For some reason, Felix seems to know. He always does. That’s why you love him so much. “Don’t take too long,” he says.

“I won’t,” you reassure.

When you look back to the door, Hyunjin has already backed away. There are tears in his eyes, lips pressed into a thin, crooked line to hide their trembling. “You moved on,” he says.

You swallow. “You never took my feelings into account whenever you pranced off on your adventures. You never asked me if I wanted to come along with you. I didn’t want to wait for someone who never cared.” How you manage to keep your voice steady, you’ll never know.

Hyunjin nods slowly, eyes scanning the exterior of your house. “Alright.” You don’t know if it means he approves, or if this is acceptance. You don’t know anything about him anymore. Hyunjin pulls out a small pouch from his pocket and holds it out to you. “A gift. Since I missed your wedding.”

“I don’t want–”

“Just take it. Please.”

There’s something in his pleading eyes that you can’t deny. Your fingers brush against his when you take it from his grasp. They’re firm now, worn and calloused unlike the soft hands you knew of the boy from your childhood. “Thank you.”

“I hope life treats you well,” Hyunjin says. He gives you a smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You should go to dinner. Goodbye, y/n.” Before you can say anything else, Hyunjin spins on his heel and marches away.

You watch him go, a hollow, achy feeling settling itself into your chest. You undo the ribbon on the pouch and reach inside.

“Once I’m back, we’ll get married. No more adventures. I promise you that.”

Soon, you’ll hear that the Hwang estate that sat empty for nearly a decade has been sold. Then, you’ll hear of a ship setting off to the new land.

And sometimes, you’ll look out to sea and think about the ring that sits deep in your vanity in a little pouch with Hyunjin’s initials.

[thewritewolf]

Well-Worn Note

Summary: When Adrien hears about a drive to give back to the heroes of Paris, he writes a heartfelt note telling Ladybug how much she is appreciated.

Years later, he finds that same note again in an unlikely place.

This fic has two reasons for existing! The first is that it celebrates the one year anniversary of my favorite server on Discord being created, and I have truly grown to love and appreciate it. Not to mention all the friends I've made through it!

The second reason - and what provided the specific inspiration for this story - comes from this post by @lnc2​. 

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3

Adrien’s fingers wandered aimlessly among the keys of his piano. Sometimes he did it to think, to let his mind drift in a trance, but most of the time he just needed a reprieve from his thoughts altogether. To let himself be completely immersed in the music as it unfolded in front of him, changing from moment to moment.

The music was a great escape. It was hard to hold onto frustration and anger when he was at the piano. Adrien suddenly froze and groaned. At least, it was a great escape as long as his mind didn’t circle back to what he was trying to get away from in the first place. Thoroughly back in the present, he walked over to his computer to look for another distraction.

Naturally, his first stop was the Ladyblog. He was only two articles down when he saw her announcement for a special event for Heroes Day. There was going to be a drop off box where the grateful citizens of Paris can send gifts and notes to their favorite heroes. Alya had apparently already gotten Ladybug’s permission and Adrien wondered when that had happened.

“Yeah it was like two or three akumas ago.” Adrien started before noticing Plagg, who continued talking with a smirk and a satisfied swish of his tail. “You were running out of time, but she had lots of it so she hung around to answer questions by the adoring public.” Plagg took a bite out of his cheese. “Guess that was when.”

“Huh…” Adrien said, the gears in his head already turning.

“What’s up? Already looking forward to all that cheese you’ll be getting?”

Adrien scrunched up his forehead. “Why would I be getting cheese?”

“Well what else are they going to send you? Cheese is obviously the best call.” Plagg tossed his wedge into the air and caught it with his mouth. The kwami floated off the desk.

“There’s loads better stuff than that! Like-” Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait. This is a great opportunity!”

“What are you on about, kid?”

Adrien turned around in his seat to look at Plagg. “I could send Ladybug a present through the drop off!”

“...Kid you know her. You could just give her something next time you’re on patrol or something. Heck, you’ve done that before!”

“Yeah, but this is a chance to give her stuff she’d never accept from Chat Noir,” Adrien said, turning back to his desk. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pen and started writing.

The gifts he could figure out later - maybe a flower or some jewelry or clothes - but the critical thing was getting his emotions onto paper. Several crumbled up failures later and he was carefully finishing his masterpiece. If that didn’t make her feel loved, nothing would.

“Well, don’t forget to sign it I guess,” Plagg reminded, sounding bored.

Adrien shook his head as he folded up the paper. “It’ll stay anonymous.”

“Huh? What’s the point then? I thought you were trying to get her to fall for you or whatever?”

“No. I just… I want her to know she’s appreciated and, well…” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. “If I don’t sign it, it’ll be like if all of Paris sent her the letter, you know?”

“Not really, but whatever floats your boat, kid.”

By that time the following day, Adrien had picked out a few presents - a rose with a ribbon, a charm bracelet, and a few other things besides. Storing them and the note in a box, he wrapped it and dropped it off with Alya as soon as he could.

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

Years passed and before he knew it, Adrien and all his friends were graduating from school. It was a strange new world they were heading into - Nino had gotten a great opportunity to follow his dreams of being a DJ in Nice. Likewise, Alya had landed an internship as a journalist there. By the end of the summer, both of them would be moving out of Paris.

But not everything was changing. There were still akumas, which meant that Adrien needed to stay close at hand to keep Paris safe. At least he’d be in good company - Marinette had been accepted to a Parisian university where she could pursue her ambitions of becoming a great designer. Not that she wasn’t already, Adrien thought with a smile.

Their last summer together was bittersweet. Friends had come and gone over the years, but those four had stayed the best of friends for that entire time. Now it seemed to be coming to an end, even as they all tried to find their way in the world. Who knew when the whole gang would come together again?

Maybe it was helping Marinette move today that had gotten him thinking about it so much. Which was itself a nostalgic trip as they helped pack away mementos of their times together. How often had Adrien come over after school to play Ultimate Mecha Strike with Marinette? The movie nights all four of them had spent there?

Things got quieter when Alya and Marinette left to buy more boxes - even Marinette had underestimated just how much stuff she had to pack. Nino and Adrien joked around like usual, but there was a somberness under it all that they just couldn’t shake no matter how hard they tried to keep things lighthearted.

Adrien almost welcomed it when Nino fumbled one of the boxes and took their minds off of it. At least he would have if the box hadn’t torn open and disgorged its contents onto the floor.

“Dang, dude,” Nino said as he stared at the mess he’d made. “M’s gonna kill me for sure if this stuff got busted.”

“Don’t sweat it, man.” Adrien put a comforting hand on Nino’s shoulder. “See if you can scrap up another box somewhere. I’ll pick all this stuff up and get it ready.”

Nino tipped his cap at him. “Thanks bro. You’re a real everyday Chat Noir!”

Adrien rolled his eyes at the phrase. After he’d thrown that party for Marinette and made his little speech, everyone had started using it.

“No problem. Take your time, though,” Adrien added as he sat down on the floor. “Looks like I’m going to be here a while.”

“Right on.”

Something didn’t seem quite right when he got to work sorting through the stuff. It must’ve been one of the boxes that Marinette had already packed by the time they got there, since he didn’t recognize any of it at all.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. All of them stirred up memories - old sketchbooks that were filled and forgotten. Scraps of fabric from pieces that Adrien remembered her finishing years ago. An old black umbrella.

“She still has this?” Adrien murmured to himself in awe. He laid it back down reverently - if it weren’t for that umbrella, the two of them might not have been friends, after all.

That was when he saw it. At first, he thought it was just another notebook, but there was something poking out of the bottom of it that caught his eye. Curious, he reached for the book.

The final date was from three years ago, but he could tell from the wear on the spine that it had been opened and closed many, many times. He flipped open the book and the faint scent of a rose reached his nose. The book naturally opened up to a page that had a pressed rose tied with a ribbon on it. That must have been what was poking out of the bottom. Taking the flower, he spun it between his fingers and watched the ribbon dance around it. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Something fell out of the book and drew his attention away from the preserved rose. It was a folded piece of paper. As he picked it up, he could feel from the softness of the paper that it had been unfolded and refolded many, many times.

Following in Marinette’s footsteps, he unfolded it once more.

At first, he could only cringe at it. Whoever had wrote it clearly had a crush on Marinette, but some sense of curiosity had gotten the better of him and he needed to keep reading. As he continued, there was a nagging suspicion at the back of his mind that he’d seen this letter somewhere before. But that couldn’t be right, could it? Unless he-

His eyes widened. Unless he was the one who wrote it! But that made even less sense - he couldn’t remember ever writing Marinette a note where he thanked her for ‘saving the day more times than he cared to count’ nor where he called her ‘an inspiration to all of them’. Granted, he’d probably said stuff like that to her over the years but-

Then it hit him like a clap of thunder. The rose and its ribbon only confirmed it for him. As clear as day, he could remember writing this very letter years ago, but it wasn’t for Marinette - it was for Ladybug!

It all made sense. No one could figure out why Marinette had declined going to that school in London she’d really liked. Most of them had assumed it was just because she would miss Paris too much. But she could hardly fight akumas while she was in London, could she?

The door opens and Adrien looks up to see Marinette standing there like a figure from a dream.

She glances down to see the letter in one hand and the rose in the other. A blush spreads across her face, but he barely notices as he stands up. She is stammering something, but he can’t hear it over the pounding of his heart in his ears.

Her bright blue eyes look up at him as he finally crosses the distance between them. He drops the note, forgotten immediately once again so he can cup her cheek with one hand. The rest of the world falls away as well as he whispers to her, quiet and sure:

“...My lady?”