#I was enamoured with her design since the days when she was alive

[xshinina]

Baby girl, baby

[sweetcathedral]

🖤Hero Academia — Aizawa🖤

Note: I thought I’d post an old work here. Also, b/c I’m seeing a lot of minors migrate to ao3, I’m thinking of switching all my works to here since it’s easier to monitor, which means I’m deleting my ao3.

⚠️: bulge, breeding, somnophilia, cnc

He’s late. Just as you thought, but that’s expected of Pro Heroes and you can’t blame him for being one. You knowingly accepted your common law conditions, so you can’t complain. You reached for your phone hoping to see his name tangled within the notifications.

NekoZawa: late

Was the only message that caught your attention with a little bit of disappointment. Deep down you already knew it’d come to this, but you still can’t help feeling let down a bit. As you were about to change out of your getup a series of sharp knocks startled you, catching you off guard.

“It’s mee!” shouted the familiar voice.

Midnight?!

You rushed to open the door.

“Kayama? You’re ba—,”

“Ahhhh! So cute, so delicate, just youth!” she huffed in excitement at the sight of your longline lace bra and single-ruffled panties.

“Ah! Wai—youth? You know we're not that far in age,” you said, as you try to hide behind the door.

“Please, I'd kill to be 5 years younger, and don’t even try hiding from me. Even though he doesn’t care much about looks this definitely falls within his tastes,”

You blushed at the compliment, wishing it had come out of Aizawa’s mouth instead.

“Anyways,” she continued, “how about some bubble tea? I got your favourite,” she whipped out a bag of drinks from behind her. You wonder if she knew of your plans and came to cheer you up.

Who am I kidding, she’s an R-rated hero. Her sixth sense is basically her sex sense.

“Yeah, I could use some company,” you smiled in relief, thankful for her sharp intuition.

Before you knew it, 9PM became 11PM in what felt like 30 minutes and that heavy feeling weighing on your chest left after a couple of laughs here and there. You couldn’t help but feel better in the presence of Kayama, you have no choice but to feel better in her presence.

“And after I showed his class a pic of you, that grape idiot said ‘ if that raggedy ass man of a sensei is able to snatch a woman like that then there’s still hope for me, right?! Right?!’ in that stupid lisp of his! I couldn’t help, but cackle in his face! Hahahahahahahaha!”

“Grape idiot?!,” you laughed, almost choking on your tapioca.

“It caused this huge uproar which took Aizawa an hour to settle down,”

“Sounds like an exaggeration to me,”

“Really? Then I’d have to ask Principal Nezu for permission to let you visit. Hmmm, maybe a surprise visit during his birthday, I’d get to see that purple shit bleed from his eyes again. Hah!” she said, her sadistic side twinkling in her eyes.

You could tell she wasn’t lying about the surprise visit as she hummed her thoughts between sips of beer. Although you know how much Aizawa likes to keep his private life separate from his professional life, your thoughts couldn’t help but ponder in curiosity at how he acts around his infamous class 1-A students. All he ever does is complain about them every time you ask, but just thinking about him acting like the strict teacher Kayama says he is . . . makes . . . you . . .

“Oi, oooii . . . I said OI!”

“Gah!”

“What the hell’s got you blushing like a dazed mess?”

“Blushing? . . . !”

You clasp your hands over your face, as if you’re trying to keep your thoughts and daydreams from escaping. You let your imagination run wild just from thinking about Aizawa as a teacher — his strict demeanour and cold eyes piercing through you . . . his deep growls muffled at the base of your neck as his grip tightens around your waist and hair . . .

“Oh! What time is it?” Kayama exclaimed, disrupting your thoughts.

You reach for your phone to check the time, seeing 11:17PM illuminating from the screen before flipping it to Kayama.

“Perfect!”

You cock your head to the side trying to think of what could make Kayama that excited, but before you could react, her quirk had already taken hold of your consciousness.

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh staring at the time on his phone. It wasn’t the first time he’d let you down like that, even though it’s out of his control he still can’t help feeling disappointed in himself. Pro Heroes always have unpredictable schedules, but still, he’d wish his schedule had gone his way today.

“Thanks as always, Eraserhead. I’ll send the details your way once we’ve confirmed the date,” Tsukauchi reassured, dismissing him for the day. Aizawa nodded in response, finally, he thought. As he walked out of the station, his phone vibrated.

Ugh, what now?

He reached for his phone and unlocked his screen.

Kayama? Probably just more cat pics.

But much to his surprise, the series of pics caused him to stop in his tracks.

Kayama: Bon appétit! *kissy face*

Was the only message that followed at the end of the series of pics. After Kayama used her quirk to put you to sleep, she happily cleaned the place up and settled you prettily onto the bed in an innocent, but also, somewhat tempting position. Who could blame her? She had a knack for setting up tempting situations for her best friends. Aizawa tapped on each pic, examining the details of your delicate lace bra and fluttery panties. He really wished his schedule had gone his way today. The longer he stared at each pic, the bigger his temptation and pent up emotions grew — frustration, doubt, confusion, jealousy, anger, greed, love, lust, it was causing him to lose all sense of logic. You were causing him to lose all sense of logic and he hated it. It’s his first time experiencing something like this, he’d never romantically loved anyone until you came into his life. At first you were just like any other Pro Hero he teamed up with in previous missions, but the mission you two took on escalated into an emotional high profile case, which caused him to spend more time with you. One thing led to another and now, you’re each other’s common-law spouse. Both of you could care less about the huge wedding traditions of planning a wedding day, banquet halls, invitations and all that, but unexpectedly, he did buy you a wedding ring — a customized designer ring at that. Not only does he not care about appearances, but he also doesn’t seem to care about prices, so long as it serves its purpose.

“Uh, Eraserhead? Everything okay?” Officer Sansa tapped on Aizawa’s shoulder, breaking him from his thoughts.

“Huh? Oh, Detective Tsukauchi already settled on a date already?” Aizawa quickly locked his phone and tucked it back into his pocket.

“Um, no, he was actually worried about you . . . you’ve been standing still here for a while now, just staring at your phone . . .”

The logical Pro Hero himself didn’t even realize that he stopped walking and was surprised to see the station still behind him. Tch .

“. . . yeah, I think I should head home now. Someone’s waiting for me. Thanks, Officer Sansa.”

He waved at the cat officer before tucking his hand back into his pocket, unconsciously digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands in frustration. He hated this feeling . . . and he can’t wait to take it out on you .

Aizawa hesitates to open the door, unsure of how he’d react when he sees you for himself. He carefully turns the knob, making sure not to make a noise that’ll wake you from your peaceful slumber. You were just like the pics Kayama sent him — back exposed with the soft glow of the city night lights highlighting your dainty shoulder blades . . . arms clutching the pillow from underneath that pretty little head of yours . . . one leg hitched up to the side while the other was elongated and tucked half way into the sheets . . . As he reached to caress your face, he noticed his hand trembling from suppressing his temptation. Tch. He pulls his hand back in frustration.

“ . . . mmph . . . Shou . . . ta . . .” you murmured in your sleep in between heated breaths.

That was enough for Aizawa to let go of any sense of logic and common sense he had left, and before he knew it, he was hovering over you — the weight of his body sinking into the duvet. His eyes trailing over your features, watching your chest rise and fall with every breath you take — a reassuring feeling that you’re real and very much alive to him. He annoyingly hears his name from the teachers at UA all the time, but when it whispers out from between those pretty lips of yours, it made him experience a feeling he wasn’t used to controlling. He gave in, leaving trails of kisses that slowly turned into hickeys and then bite marks. He felt bad for leaving those marks on your supple skin, but he also wished they were permanent, as if the wedding ring doesn't speak for itself anymore. Aizawa’s grip tightened on your thigh at the thought of anyone else touching you, pinning your leg to your chest. His rough hand traces down your curves before slipping them in between your thighs — a wet sopping mess.

Ah, her panties are ruined . . . shame, he thought as he ripped a slit open, big enough for what you’re about to take in. Whoops . . . I’ll just get her a new one.

The temperature of your body was rising as he continued to press up against you, leaving marks on your collarbone and teasing your insides with his thick calloused fingers. A wave of pleasure ripples through your moonlight kissed skin, slowly pulling you back to your senses. You bat your eyes a few times to shake off the heaviness weighing on your eyelids.

“ . . . Shou—haa . . . !” your body twitched as another wave of pleasure came over you, shaking off your sleepy numbness, awakening your sense of touch as you grip his forearm trying to get him to slow down. It was no use given how enamoured he was with your reaction, your measly grip is as light as a feather against his strength.

“Haa . . . wait . . . slowdow—mmph!,”

Aizawa places his hand over your mouth, silencing your relentless begging. You finally noticed his flushed face and entranced eyes — a face you’re not used to seeing.

“Shut up, if you know what’s good for you,” his deep voice reverberated in your ear, sending a ripple of shivers down your neck. He was a completely different person in a completely different headspace. The only thing that can bring him back to his senses is your safe word, but you know that if you give in he’d completely stop and resist touching you for days as penance for losing control. But . . . you love it when he loses control along with his sense of logic, so you melt into your favourite position, signaling him to release all his pent up emotions in you — a mating press. You bite your trembling lower lip, begging with your wet eyes as a smirk played across his face. He gently kisses your forehead before pulling down his bottoms, revealing his thick throbbing cock. Your cunt twitched at the sight of it, squeezing out your fluids, dripping down like honey.

“How badly do you want it?”

“. . . badly . . . Shou~ta~ . . .” you cooed.

His cock twitched at the sound of your light and airy voice, precum drips onto the sheets.

“Not yet,” he said as he began stroking his cock on your clit, making sure not to let an inch slip inside you. The sensation drives you crazy as you whimper and whine for him to fill you up inside, desperately begging with your hips. But Aizawa’s firm grip on your thighs won’t let you, and keeps you from getting what you want. You miss the feeling of being bred full . His strokes were getting faster, his panting turning into growls. Your body tensed and toes curled as the feeling came closer, letting a desperate sigh escape from your mouth.

“Already? But I’m not done with you yet,” he playfully whispers in your ear before ramming himself inside you.

“Haa!” you yelped.

Your plump walls twitch at the sudden movement, tightening itself around his cock.

“That’s my good girl,” he chuckled, cockingly.

Tears well up in your eyes as you bite back your whimpering. He grabs your hand and firmly places it on your lower abdomen,

“Do you feel me? I’m right here.”

With your hand firmly placed on your stomach, you can feel his bulge every time he strokes his cock in you. He keeps it there, so that you have no choice but to feel it until the very end — up until his cum fills you up inside. His long strokes began to shorten, each stroke getting harder than the last and unable to hold in your pants and moans. Not only can you feel the warmth fill you up, but you can also feel his cock releasing globs of his milk from the bulge protruding from your lower abdomen. Your fingers dance around it making him twitch, his bruising grip tightening around your wrist.

“Fuck,” he grunts, looking down at the mess you both made.

Your cunt was swelling at the amount of cum it’s trying to keep from spilling, gushing out every time your sticky walls twitch. Before Aizawa was about to pull out, you grab his arm,

“Wait . . . not yet,” you must’ve been pouting when those words fell off of your swollen lips cause you’ve never seen his features soften like that before. He lowers himself, feeling his weight sinking into the bed as he tenderly kisses your forehead, brushing your slick baby hairs from your face . . . the warmth of his forehead resting against yours . . . the reassuring feeling of his hand gently cupping your flushed cheeks . . . You reach for his face, thumbing the scar under his eye, diving in for a deeper kiss and wrapping your arms around him. His heart begins to beat harder as you begin to feel his cock swelling up again from inside you.

[jeonsjiddies]

and then came you | pjm (m)

summary - Jimin was having a harder time getting over his unrequited love than he’d like to admit. He was desperate to escape the longing in his chest; he was searching for something to make him feel alive again. Jimin was about to give up hope that he’d ever find anything meaningful to cling to again, and then came you. 

rating- explicit 18+

word count-  7551

pairing- jimin x reader

genre- fluff, smut, angst

Warnings - a little angsty/ a little heartbreak at the beginning, some sexual harassment ( from an ex), mentions of cheating, thigh riding, ice play, creampie, multiple orgasms, slight dom!jimin, Oral (female receiving)

a/n - while this story can stand alone, it is based off the 8 letters AU, which can be found here. :) as usual, all the thanks in the world to @sweetnspicy93​ for all your help and thank you for urging me to give 8 letters Jimin his own happy ending. 

Jimin knew it was a bad idea, but he’d done it anyway. He would’ve done anything for the girl with the soft eyes and the bright smile, the girl who was now Namjoon’s. Jimin thought his crush was small enough that he’d be able to assist in making Namjoon jealous and walk away unscathed. At least she would be happy. That would be enough for Jimin. Or so he thought. 

Jimin’s mind wandered back to the way she looked on top of him, grinding her hips into his. His cock stirred at the memory. Of course, it had all been a show, strategically designed to make her roommate and crush jealous. That didn’t stop Jimin’s heart from slipping a beat when her core ground down onto his member. It didn’t stop Jimin from melting when she’d giggled and covered her face to hide it. Jimin knew it wasn’t real, he’d laughed off his boner, but he let himself enjoy the feeling of her skin under his tongue, the soft noises he drew from her which he knew weren’t completely fake. 

He felt empty, lost. Maybe he was being dramatic, but Jimin felt like he needed purpose. He’d feigned happiness when he saw her tucked into Namjoon’s loving embrace, congratulating the new couple as pieces of his heart chipped away and fell into the black hole of his chest. It seemed like his desire to do anything had faded away as quickly as his grasp on her. Now, he moped about his apartment, listening to the dull roar of the rain outside. It had been weeks since Namjoon had finally cracked and claimed her as his own, and Jimin was tired of feeling so… tired, dejected, lonely. 

Jimin decided he needed a change of scenery. The messy apartment with the dingy walls he had been cooped up in for weeks wasn’t doing anything to help him, he needed a fresh start. He didn’t give himself time to think about it, only packed a bag and scurried out the door, through the pouring rain to his car. He didn’t have a real plan, just decided to hit the open road and let his gut guide him until he found a place to explore. He drove through the rain, letting his excitement seep through his bones as he made random turns and took unplanned exits to get to his unknown adventure. 

Jimin drove for a few hours, deciding no matter where he went he wasn’t going to escape the dastardly rain. He took the next exit he saw, something in his chest guiding  him towards the small town it led to. Near the exit he saw a sign illuminated promising a hotel room for only $35 a night. Jimin, having nothing to lose, pulled into the parking lot. Entering the building and shaking the rain from his dripping hair, he looked around to find the front lobby devoid of any life. 

“Hello?” He called out. 

You didn’t hear him enter the building and couldn't see anything past the stack of boxes you were balancing. He didn’t see you coming around the corner. You tripped over a flipped up rug and went tumbling forward, boxes flying out of your hands and landing haphazardly on the tile floor, contents spilling out and rolling in different directions. You would’ve splattered on the floor much like the contents of the boxes had it not been for the beautiful stranger who currently cradled you in his strong arms. Your palms were pressed flat against his chest, and you could feel the toned muscle under your fingertips. Your gaze traveled up his neck and face until your eyes locked with the deep brown pools of his.  Though they were a dark color, they shone with the intensity of the sun, bright and vivid, so beautiful it almost hurt to look at. Your mouth hung open in shock for a moment at how gorgeous this man was before you came to your senses, stumbling back and out of his grip. 

“I am so so sorry! Are you alright?” You questioned, skimming over his body for any obvious signs of injury. You sighed in relief when you found none.

“I’m fine. Are you okay?” He wondered, eyes searching yours. 

“Yes, thanks to you. Thank you. For catching me.” You giggled nervously. 

“It’s not every day a beautiful girl throws herself into my arms. Couldn’t pass up the opportunity.” He winked playfully.

You blushed and looked down to hide it and squeaked in surprise, scrambling to collect the contents of the boxes. Jimin leaned down to help you, collecting items and tucking them safely in the box before lifting it and following you to the counter where the both of you set them down. 

“Thank you, again.” you smiled, taking your place behind the desk. “Were you looking for a room?”

“Yes, please.” he grinned back at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

Your eyes lingered on the action a little longer than was socially acceptable before you shook yourself back to reality and searched the old, worn down computer system for available rooms.

“Okay, I’ve got a double queen and a single king available. Which would you prefer? They’re both non-smoking rooms.” you smiled politely.

“The single king, it’s only me.” Jimin sighed, his sunshine filled eyes dimming a bit.

“Okay!” you tried not to show your concern, but selected the room and input your employee discount.

“How many nights?” you asked, glancing back up at him.

“Ummm…” he trailed off, looking away as he thought carefully. “Let’s go with seven. For now.” 

“Okay, a one week stay…” your fingers tapped at the keys, and you rung up his total. 

“Okay that will be $187.25. Cash or card?” you smiled sweetly. 

“That doesn’t sound right… it’s for 7 nights right? $35 a night?” he confirmed. 

“I, um, put my employee discount in for you…” you admitted shyly, avoiding his gaze. “It made it $25 a night, plus tax. We’re allowed to give the employee price to friends and family and I was thankful for your help.”

Jimin watched you for a moment, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he appraised you.

“Thank you. That’s… really sweet. Probably the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.” his voice lowered at the end, as if that part was a secret.

“Well, you helped me. I helped you.” you shrugged, trying to play it off and hoping he wouldn’t notice the blaze in your cheeks.

Your hands brushed when he handed over his card and you audibly gasped at the shockwave that shot through you when his skin met yours. His mouth parted in shock as well and you both locked eyes for a moment. One heartbeat passed. Two. The only sound in the lobby was both of you sucking in shaky breaths. 

You gulped, pulling your hand away and swiping his card through the reader. You handed it and a receipt back to him, careful not to touch him again and smiled the most professional smile you could muster. You reached behind you and pulled the corresponding keycard out of its slot and handed it over as well.

“Room 318. If you need anything, you can call me. The front desk number is 0. I’ll be here until 7am, but if you find that Mina is a little too… blunt?..for your taste, I’m actually right down the hall in 338.” you explained.

You weren’t sure why you told him that, you never offered that information to any other customers. Something about him just pulled you in. You wanted to protect him. You wanted to know what was going on in his mind, what could possibly be dimming those glittering eyes. You were enamoured by him, intrigued, fascinated really. 

“Thank you for the heads up…” he trailed off, eyes scanning your shirt for a name badge.

“Y/N. And you?” you offered.

“Jimin.” he beamed at you, causing your heart to skip a beat for probably the 92nd time since you’d laid eyes on him.

“It’s very nice to meet you Jimin. I hope you enjoy your stay.” you told him sincerely.

“I think I will.” he winked, making his way down the hallway towards his room.

*** Jimin couldn’t sleep. He was used to tossing and turning and lying awake until the sun came up, he was no stranger to the way his mind whirled when the silence crept in. He kept himself busy during the day, but when the sun went down, the restlessness set in. Jimin hated the silence. He hated being alone. He glanced at the clock, it was midnight. He sighed and shoved himself out of bed, slipping on his shoes and making his way down to the coffee bar he’d spotted earlier. 

He filled two cups, fixing one the way he liked it and leaving the other black, but grabbing a couple of cream and sugar packets to bring with him. He peered around the corner to see if you were busy before he entered the lobby. You were sat on a stool behind the desk, head leaning on your hand as you struggled to stay awake. Jimin smiled, turning the corner and setting the coffee in front of you.

“Looks like you might need this more than I do.” he grinned, taking a sip of his own. “I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I just brought the extras to you.”

“Oh my gosh. My hero.” you cooed, ripping open the sugar and creamers and dumping them in before taking a sip.

Your head lolled back blissfully and you moaned quietly. Jimin’s eyes widened at the unexpected lewd sound rolling off your pink lips and had to discreetly adjust himself before you noticed the way his sweats got a little tighter. 

“You saved my life. How can I ever repay you?” you giggled. 

“Keep me company? I can’t sleep.” he whined.  

“I’m not going anywhere until 7. You’re welcome to hang out with me here.” you offered.

Jimin hopped up on the desk, swinging his legs back and forth as he peered down at you. You rolled your eyes with a smile.

“Where are you from?” you asked him.

“Just a few hours south of here.” he answered. “I couldn’t get far in the rain.”

“Oh, you aren’t to your destination yet? Why did you book seven days then?” you wondered aloud.

“I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I just wanted to leave for a while. I had nothing holding me there anymore, and I thought a change of scenery would be nice. So I just kinda went where I felt like going and ended up here.” he shrugged.

“Your grand adventure led you to our little town?” you laughed.

“It’s got it’s charms.” he smirked.

You bit your lip and looked down, willing the blush on your cheeks to chill out. Jimin chuckled, the vibrations of his body shaking your desk.

“So what do you plan on doing now that you’re here?” you asked.

“I don’t really have a plan. I just felt kind of suffocated and needed to get out of my dingy apartment and that stupid town.” he left off the part about how SHE was everywhere he went when he did venture outside his apartment, and how every time he saw her hand laced with Namjoons bile rose in his throat.

“Well, on behalf of our tiny town, welcome. I hope you find what you’re searching for.” you smiled.

Jimin stayed perched on your desk for hours, until the sun started streaming through the blinds in the lobby, filling the room with a soft glow. In your opinion, though, the light wafting through the space couldn’t dare compare to the light that came from Jimin. When his head was thrown back and his body shook and his smile reached from ear to ear while giggles and chuckles fell from his pillowy lips, Jimin shone brighter than the sun could ever hope to. 

You both got more comfortable as the night went on, delving into deeper topics, more personal ones. You told each other stories, shared your hopes for the future, It honestly felt like you’d known him your whole life. The conversation flowed easily, there weren’t any awkward pauses or times when neither of you could fill the silence, unsure of what to say. It was easy with Jimin. Being around him made you feel lighter, less broken. Like the light inside of him was seeping out and filling you with hope too. 

You could tell there was something on his mind, something plaguing him. Who else stays up talking to a hotel clerk until the wee hours of the morning? He was running from something when he left without a plan, but he didn’t offer much information on it. Despite the darkness that sometimes threatened to break through his cheery exterior, Jimin was just… bright. It was who he was, a part of him. He was warm, friendly, and welcoming. 

Neither of you had realized the time until the front door of the lobby swung open and Mina shuffled through, her ever-present scowl plastered on her weathered face. She glared at Jimin the moment she saw him. His eyes widened in fear and he slipped his bottom off of the desk, backing away from it. You sent him a look that said ‘I told you so.’

“Shifts over. Go.” she grunted, pointing her disappointed gaze at you.

You nodded quietly, gathering your purse and walking over to Jimin, who was almost cowering in the corner. You nodded for him to follow you out of the lobby and only spoke once you were out of earshot.

“See what I mean?” you giggled.

“She’s terrifying.” he whisper-hissed.

“She’s old and everything hurts. I’d probably be mean if I had to work here at her age too.” you shrugged, “but yeah if you need anything come find me. She definitely didn’t like the way you were sitting on the desk.”

Jimin nodded, covering his mouth as he stifled a yawn. You laughed.

“Did I wear you out talking your ear off?” you teased.

“No, that was the most fun I’ve had in a while to be honest.” he chuckled. 

“Happy to help.” you smiled shyly, pausing in front of his room with him. 

He hovered by the door but made no move to go in. You didn’t make a move to leave either. You both laughed at how ridiculous you were being. You placed your hand on his arm.

“Goodnight Jimin, sleep well.” 

Suddenly, Jimin pulled you towards him, his arms wrapping tightly around your frame, head resting in the crook of your neck. You melted into his embrace, allowing your arms to circle around his body as well. 

“Thank you for keeping me company.” he quietly spoke, warm breath hitting your ear and making you shiver.

“Any time, Jimin.” you answered back just as quietly. 

He pulled back and sent you a smile before he slipped inside his room. You slowly made your way back to yours, every inch of your skin tingling, relishing the way it felt to be held by him, even for just a moment. In the  arms of his stranger was the first time you’d ever felt like you were home. 

You and Jimin had developed a nightly routine. Each night, he’d show up around midnight and perch himself on your desk, gifting you a cup of coffee (which he tailored to your tastes now.) The two of you would talk and laugh and just enjoy each other’s presence throughout the night. Maybe you should’ve gotten bored spending so much time together but you never ran out of things to talk about. 

It felt like he’d always been there and he always would be. Even Mina seemed to get used to seeing Jimin when she arrived. She wasn’t friendly but she’d stopped sending him evil looks, which was quite the compliment from her. You found yourself looking forward to work rather than dreading it.  Your favorite part of each day was the time you got to spend with Jimin. On the 4th night of this routine, Jimin wrapped you up in your nightly hug. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wait all night for this part, longing to be wrapped up in his embrace, however fleeting the moment may be. 

That night, Jimin surprised you. When he pulled away from your hug you felt his pillowy soft lips rest upon your cheek in a chaste kiss. The moment was over before you had time to process what was happening and Jimin smiled innocently at you.

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” 

You stood frozen in place, letting your hand come up to touch your cheek where his lips had just been. His lips were so soft, so plush, and you longed to feel them against your own. Your cheek burned in the best way where the lingering heat from his lips stayed. You couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading across your face. 

That was until you rounded the corner to get to your room and walked face first into the chest of the man you despised more than anything else. Your ex boyfriend, Stuart, loomed over your like a predator stalking it’s prey, using his large body mass to trap you against the wall. He reeked of alcohol and you rolled your eyes at the familiar scent. 

“What are you doing here? Get off of me.” You hissed. 

“Awww don’t sound so disappointed, Y/N. Don’t you miss me?” He cooed, one finger sliding it’s way up the side of your face. 

“No.” You spit. “Get the fuck off of me.”

“Come on baby… don’t you want to have a little fun?” He smirked and your stomach threatened to release your midnight snack all over his button up shirt. 

“Let me get one thing through your thick ass skull, I will NEVER touch you again. Do you understand?” You hissed through gritted teeth 

“Don’t be like this. Just unlock the door. We can go in your room and play around like we used to. You used to like it when I showed up like this.”

“That was before I found out you were fucking half the town behind my back.” You threw back at him. “If you think I’ll ever get with you again you’re insane.” 

“Quit playing hard to get and open the fucking door.” He growled. 

“I believe she said no.” 

Your gaze snapped to the voice that had just spoken, your eyes landing on Jimin, who was carrying his ice bucket. His eyes were swimming with concern for you but he stood tall and held his ground, refusing to be intimidated by the giant drunk moron who had you pinned to the wall.

“This isn’t any of your business. Fuck off.” Stuart hissed. 

“Actually it kind of is. You’re sexually harassing my friend.” Jimin spoke evenly, keeping a calm persona. 

“You know this clown?” Stuart asked you. 

“Yeah. He’s my friend.” You shrugged.

“You little slut, you’re letting him hit it aren’t you? Bitching at me for having a little fun but you’ll bust it open for anyone huh?” Stuart goaded you.

“Well Stuart, I don’t really think that’s any of your business.” You growled.

“If you’ll put out for him you better put out for me.” He hissed. 

Jimin’s fist connected with Stuart’s jaw before you could reply or react. Stuart stumbled back in surprise and Jimin took the opportunity to grab your hand and sprint down the hallway with you in tow. A roar of rage sounded from behind the two of you which only fueled your legs to move faster. Nearing a T in the hallway, you made a split second decision to shove Jimin into the supply closet and shut the door.

Stuart wasn’t smart enough, especially while drunk, to think of that as an option and you strained your ears to listen as his footsteps clomped past the storage closet, pausing before retreating down the hallway. You let out a sigh of relief, looking up to meet Jimin’s gaze. It was then that you realized how close you were. Your noses almost touching, you could feel his ragged breaths against your skin. You told yourself it was from the running.

“Are you okay?” He whispered. 

“Yes, thanks to you. You keep rescuing me.” You grinned. 

“Well, call me Prince Charming then.” He laughed quietly. “Do you think he’s gone?” 

“I’m not sure. We should probably wait it out.” You sighed.

“Why don’t you call the police?” Jimin wondered.

“His dads the sheriff. He won’t do anything.” You huffed.

Jimin shifted, trying to maneuver around you to set down the ice bucket he was holding. He opted to place it on the floor, bending down to set it beside the two of you. He misjudged the space between your bodies as he stood up, stumbling forward a little, his face ended up in your cleavage, his lips brushing against your cloth covered nipple. He froze in shock, unable to peel himself from your breast. His breath circled your nub, damp and warm. You let out a breathy moan at the feeling and your eyes immediately widened in panic. 

Jimin straightened his posture, eyes locked on yours and lips parted in amazement. Neither of you spoke or dared to move. You could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, brushing against your own each time in the cramped space. Jimin could feel his cock stirring to attention in his sweats and decided it was time to check if the coast was clear. He cleared his throat and opened the closet door, slipping his head out and checking both directions.

“I don’t see him anymore.” Jimin told you quietly.

You nodded and followed him towards your room. You paused in front of his, shaking with anxiety when he looked at you in confusion. 

“Jimin… I’m scared. Can I… can I stay with you? I’m worried he’s going to come back and I-“ you rambled bit Jimin put you out of your misery. 

“Of course, come on.” He unlocked the door and ushered you inside. 

You followed him inside, thanking him quietly and following him like a lost puppy to the middle of the room.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want me to turn on a movie?” He asked. “Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“I’m okay, but I won’t turn down the movie.” You smiled gratefully. 

Jimin flipped on the tv and sat at the opposite side of the bed, careful to give you room and made sure he was under the covers so you couldn’t see his semi. You got under the blankets too, but still shivered in the cold of his room. 

“Are you still cold? I don’t think I have a clean sweater…” he thought out loud, wracking his brain for ideas. 

“It’s fine! I’ll warm up soon.” You assured him. 

Things shifted back to normal for the most part, but there was a lingering tension in the air neither of you were willing to talk about. You fell into easy conversation about the movie, giggling and poking fun at the plot holes together. You continued to shiver despite your best efforts not to show how cold you were. Jimin sighed. 

“Come here.” He instructed. 

“Hmm?” You questioned. 

“Come over here and let me warm you up, you’re making me feel bad.” Jimin motioned for you to join him on his side of the bed. 

“Really I’m fine-“ you began but the look on Jimin’s face had you obeying his command in an instant, crawling your way over to him and snuggling up beside him as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled the blanket up to cover you both, trapping the heat of both of your bodies. 

The hotel mattress was lumpy and uneven, but you’d never been more comfortable in your life. Jimin’s arm wrapped around your shoulder so it wasn’t sandwiched between the two of you and you molded yourself against his side even closer. Your bodies fit perfectly together and it made your heart beat faster than normal. You only hoped Jimin couldn’t hear it. When the movie ended, Jimin switched off the tv and laid down. You followed suit, pressing your body up against his and resting your head on his shoulder, your hand on his chest.

“Tell me something I don’t already know about you.” you requested, voice soft in an attempt not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere.

“What haven’t I told you yet?” Jimin chuckles to himself. 

“What’s the real reason you’re here?” you pondered, bracing yourself for him to close himself off.

Jimin sighed, and you were about to apologize and change the subject when he nodded, glancing over at you.

“Actually, I was kind of running away. I had this friend, and I liked her but she liked her roommate. He likes her too but wasn’t doing anything about it, so we fake dated to make him jealous. I know it’s immature but he needed a push. I wanted her to be happy but didn’t realize how I’d feel seeing them together all the time. It’s actually kind of nice, I haven’t thought about her in days.” Jimin explained.

“I’m sorry Jimin. You’re a wonderful guy and you deserve someone who appreciates you.” You told him, eyes searching his face. 

“Thank you.” He scrunched his nose up in that cute way that made your heart clench. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

You wracked your brain for information you hadn’t already provided to Jimin during your nightly talks. You noticed then that Jimin was shifting beside you, growing antsy with the vulnerability of the conversation, you assumed. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you threw out the first thing you could think of.

“Hmmm… I can touch my nose with my tongue.” you lied with the best straight face you could muster.

“No way. Show me.” Jimin laughed, turning to watch you.

You stuck your tongue out and tried your hardest to push it far enough to touch the tip of your nose, but failed miserably. You refused to give up and kept trying, making silly faces while attempting to reach. Jimin couldn’t control the laughter bubbling from deep in his belly at your ridiculous antics. 

His smile reached both ears, and Jimin watched you make a fool of yourself, realizing that he hadn’t felt so light and carefree in the longest time, even before the incident with Namjoon and his new girlfriend. Something about being near you just made Jimin turn into a version of himself that he actually liked. Being around you made him feel like it might actually be okay. 

The two of you shared hushed whispers for a while, Jimin absentmindedly drawing shapes on the soft flesh of your hand that rest on his chest. The whispers died down and you were left with the quiet humming of the air conditioning kicking on and off periodically and the sound of Jimin’s even breathing. You lifted your head to see if he was asleep and watched his chest move with each inhale. You allowed yourself to study his features up close. You couldn’t help yourself, reaching out and letting your fingers brush against the skin of his jaw, a featherlight touch in the hopes of not waking him. 

Jimin stirred slightly and you held your breath, ceasing all body movements. You watched his eyes flutter before stilling. He snuggled farther into the blanket and sighed happily. You waited a few moments before returning to your exploration. Your fingers danced lightly towards his lips, letting yourself marvel at how full and soft they were. Your thumb brushed against the tender flesh, and Jimin’s tongue darted out to wet them. You removed your fingers from his warm, now wet mouth. 

His eyelashes fanned across his cheeks delicately, and you gently ran a finger along them, watching them flutter under your touch. You sighed, completely in awe of how beautiful the man next to you truly was. He was painfully attractive, that was a given. But he was also smart, funny, kind, open. You found yourself idly wondering how anyone could pass him up, but you were honestly not upset that she had. It was a stupid daydream, you knew that. There was no way he was into you. But you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining what it might be like to show Jimin the kind of love he’d been missing, the kind he was so clearly desperate to find. 

If anyone deserved to feel raw, unconditional love, you had no doubt that Jimin did. He was so sweet and friendly and had so much love to give in return. You wanted to watch those eyes light up, see how brightly he could shine when properly adored. You wanted to be that for him. He shuffled in his sleep, mumbling something under his breath and his arms reached out, seeking your warmth. He brought you flush against him, enveloping you in his warm embrace. You smiled to yourself and carded your fingers through his silky hair. 

You let yourself melt into his hold, feeling welcome and needed and wanted. You began fading in and out of consciousness, the comfort and safety of having Jimin so close putting your mind at ease. You fell asleep to the sound of his strong, steady heartbeat, which sounded a lot like your new favorite song.

You woke up before Jimin, the sunlight finding its way through the thin curtain that covered the large window of his hotel room. You blinked a few times and tried to sit up, but Jimin’s arms instinctively wrapped around you tighter, holding you in place against his firm body. You grinned, snuggling back into his embrace and pressing yourself up against him. That’s when you felt something hard pressing against your backside. You experimentally wiggled your hips against Jimin’s, wondering if it was what you thought it was. His sleepy moan and the friction against your bottom proved your suspicions correct. 

Your eyes widened and you bit your lip as arousal pooled in between your legs. Jimin’s rock hard cock pressed against your backside made your head spin. You attempted to remove yourself from his grasp but that only made him hug you closer, effectively pressing his erection against you more. You whimpered quietly, torn between not disturbing Jimin and relieving the ache between your thighs. You pushed your bottom farther into him, hoping to gain a little friction. Suddenly, his hand gripped down on your hip, stilling your movements. 

“What are you doing?” He questioned, his morning voice raspy and deep. 

“I...uh….” you gulped, heat flooding to your cheeks at having been caught grinding against him.

You tried to flee, but Jimin’s firm grip on your hip didn’t lessen, his fingers dug into your skin deliciously. 

“It looks like you were grinding your pretty little ass on my cock.” He purred, his hand sliding from your hip to grasp the fleshy globe of your bottom, giving it a rough squeeze. 

“Ah, fuck.” You squeaked out at his possessive actions, you leaned into his touch and brought a chuckle from him. 

“Hmmmm… you like that?” He chuckled, “you like when I touch you?”

“Yes.” You gasped as his hands traveled farther up to cup your breast, giving it a light squeeze. 

“So needy. Why don’t you do something about it?” He prodded. 

Your brain was fuzzy, you weren’t even registering his words. You didn’t think about what you were doing, you just let your body take control as you turned around then swung a leg over his lap and straddled him. Jimin’s words died in his throat and his mouth hung open in shock. You didn’t let yourself think or slow down, knowing you’d chicken out if you did. You pressed your lips to his in a needy kiss, which he reciprocated after he processed that it was happening. 

His hands found purchase in your hair, tugging gently as his tongue explored your mouth. You moaned into his mouth when his free hand pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. You began to grind your hips down onto his, delighting in the way his cock felt dragging up and down your clothed folds. Jimin groaned, letting his head fall back and hit the headboard with a quiet thud before he lifted it and grabbed your hips, holding them still.

“Wait, wait.” he panted.

“What’s wrong?” your hips stilled, embarrassment flooding your cheeks.

“It’s uh, been a while, and if you do that I’m going to cum in my pants.” he admitted sheepishly. 

You bit your lip to hide your giggle when an idea flashed in your mind. You moved your hips so you were straddling his thigh rather than his crotch. You began to rock your hips again and Jimin’s eyes darkened as he stared at the spot where your sex met his thigh. 

“Holy shit, you look so sexy right now…” he hummed thoughtfully, his hands coming to rest on your hips again only to grind you down harder on his toned muscle.

The arousal pooling between your legs was soaking through your clothing, and you were certain Jimin would feel it soaking his flimsy sweats soon. You whimpered at the friction on your clit and when Jimin tensed his thigh it sent a wave of pleasure through you.

His fingers found the edge of your shirt and he glanced at your face to make sure it was okay. When you nodded, he lifted it off of your frame and tossed it aside. He licked his lips as he surveyed your skimpy bra. His lips attached themselves to the tops of your breast while his hands slipped behind you to unclasp the fabric preventing him from seeing all of your upper half. The bra fell off your shoulders and Jimin whisked it away, taking a moment to admire your breasts.

“I think I might have died if I didn’t get a chance to have a proper taste of these.” he hummed, eyes flicking up to yours as a smirk graced his lips.

“Fuck, Jimin.” You whimpered pathetically as electricity shot to your core. 

Almost immediately, his lips were on your nipples.His soft, plump lips sucked at your sensitive nub, his teeth gently scraping along the flesh. Your movements on his thigh stuttered, your mind going blank at the shivers coursing through you. His tongue darted out and swirled around your nipple, before he moved his delicious assault to the other breast. This time, he bit down, pulling the nub between his teeth. You yelped, arching your body closer to him as the sinfully pleasurable pain raced through your veins.

Jimin smirked against your skin, biting and soothing it with the flat of his tongue afterwards. He blew cold air against the red marks on your breasts, and you shivered. Your hips picked up speed the closer you got to letting go and Jimin sensed you were near your high. His fingers dipped past the waistband of your pants and panties, and he began rubbing your clit harshly, until you were just about to fly off the edge, then he ripped his hand away and held you still.

“What the fuck?!” you whined.

“You don’t cum until I say you do.” he growled, “you were a very bad girl, rubbing up against me and teasing me, using me for your own pleasure. So fucking sexy.” 

You whined, trying to rock your hips against him once more, but Jimin was stronger than you. He grabbed your waist and flipped you over so he was hovering above you. The tips of his fingers teasing at your waistband. Your breath caught in your throat, the palpable tension growing thicker with each passing moment. He quickly discarded his own shirt, giving you the most glorious view of his toned chest and stomach. 

You made no attempt to disguise the way you ogled him. You licked your lips seductively as your eyes raked over his body, drinking him in. You reached up to let your hands rake down his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his abs and brushing over his nipples on the way down. His body jerked and you smiled to yourself. Your perusal of his body came to rest at the elastic in his sweats.

“Someone’s eager.” Jimin quipped.

“Someone might not be so eager if she’d been allowed to cum.” you huffed, tugging the sweats and boxers down in one smooth  motion. 

Jimin laughed, standing up and kicking the clothing off of his body before crawling back onto the bed.

“Mouthy little slut. Don’t you know only good girls get to cum?” he shot back, pressing you flat against the mattress and kissing down your neck.

You squirmed under his touch while he worked his way down your body, stopping just above your aching sex. He placed a soft kiss to your clothed folds, making your body react and arch closer, seeking relief. He chuckled to himself and shed you of any remaining clothing. The contrast of the cool air meeting your aching heat caused a shiver to rip through your body. Something lit up in Jimin’s eyes and he removed himself from the bed and walked over to the mini fridge, opening the freezer compartment.  You watched curiously as he returned with the small ice bucket he’d filled before finding you last night.

“Feeling thirsty?” you joked. 

Jimin raised an eyebrow, shooting you a half-smile before taking an icecube and running it over your already hard nipple. You cried out, the stark contrast of his warm hands with the freezing cold of the icecube was divine. You watched as it slowly melted, water droplets rolling off your body and falling onto the bed.

“Jimin…” you whimpered.

“Mmm?” he smirked, repeating the action on the other breast.

Your back arched, seeking more from the man above you. He was playing you like an instrument, and he knew all the right notes. You were putty in his hands, and he knew it. It stroked his ego more than you would’ve cared for but at this point you would’ve done anything to get some attention on your sodden pussy.

Jimin popped an icecube in his mouth and moved up to kiss you. It rolled around between your tongues until it melted between your combined heat. Jimin kissed the tip of your nose before moving his face down between your legs. He pressed his tongue flat against your clit, and the coldness from the icecube that he’d just had in his mouth stunned you. He left your clit to tease along your folds, letting his tongue dart experimentally inside your heat. 

You groaned,writhing underneath his ministrations. He flicked the tip of his tongue against your clit quickly, building the heat in your belly as he moved. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them and hitting that delicious spot with every pump. He paused for a moment, and suddenly there was something very cold and very wet pressing against your walls. 

You gasped, the ice pressing against you as Jimin moved it in and out with his tongue. The melting liquid joined your slick and spilled out of your hole while Jimin flicked his tongue, and the remaining ice against that spot that drove you wild. Once the ice was gone, and you were panting enough for Jimin’s liking, he doubled down on his efforts, tongue pressing against your walls and fingers working beside it while his other hand worked your clit in small, deliberate circles.

Jimin pulled away abruptly, and you nearly began crying as another orgasm slipped away.You groaned in frustration, reaching down to play with your own clit but Jimin caught your wrists and clicked his tongue.

“Nuh uh, darling. What did I say? You don’t cum unless I tell you to.” he purred, licking a bold stripe along the veins in your wrist, which was strangely erotic.  “I want you to beg for it.” 

“What?” you hissed.

“Beg me to cum. Beg for my cock.” he smirked.

You sighed audibly, and Jimin just watched you, the smirk still pasted on his stupidly handsome face.

“Please…” you mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that darling?” Jimin chuckled. “I can’t hear you.”

“Please fuck me, Jimin. I need to cum. Please!” you whined, all of your pride flying out the window as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“That’s my good girl.” he cooed.

“Please hurry.” you whined.

“Shit. I don’t… I don’t have a condom.” Jimin realized out loud, shoulders slumping.

“I have an IUD and I’m clean.” you panted, fingers wrapping around his neck and bringing him to meet your lips. “Are you?”

“I’m clean,” he assured.

“Then fuck me.” you whispered, nibbling on his ear.

Jimin wasted no time obliging your request. He lined himself up with your entrance and slid in smoothly, aided by your dripping arousal, courtesy of your two denied orgasms and the skills of his tongue. Jimin bottomed out, both of you emitting a low groan. Jimin wasn’t super long, but his girth more than made up for it, as well as his ability to move his hips in the most delectable ways. He filled you up perfectly, hitting spots inside you that you were unaware even existed. 

“Jimin.” you moaned, clawing at his back as he thrust in and out of you at a painfully slow pace.

“Say it again.” he whispered, hips picking up speed.

“Jimin.” you repeated.

“Louder.” he growled, snapping his hips in and out of you with vigor.

“Fuck! Jimin!” you cried. 

Jimin pounded in and out of you, causing your body to bounce with each movement of his hips. He loved the way your breasts bounced and the way you bit down harshly on your lip, overwhelmed with pleasure. His head fell into your neck as he pistoned his hips against yours, one hand sneaking between your joined bodies to expertly rub at your clit. You could no longer form a coherent sentence,gibberish falling from your lips as the familiar fire built deep inside you. 

“Jimin.” you warned, your cunt clenching around him.

“Are you gonna cum for me? Cum all over my cock? Do it, baby. Cum for me.” he coaxed.

His teeth sinking into your neck was the last push you needed before you were careening off the edge. Your body trembled at the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced in your life. White dots clouded your vision and you screamed so loud your throat felt raw. Jimin came soon after you, working you both through your shared euphoria. His thrusts slowed and he stilled inside you, breathing as heavy as your own.

“Holy shit.” he groaned, and you could feel his muscles shaking just as much as your own.

He pulled out of you, watching in awe as his cum seeped out of your beaten hole. He slid a finger along your folds, gathering his seed and bringing it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his fingers and sucking them clean, the taste of your own slick combined with his cum coating your tongue. Jimin shivered at the sight.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” he sighed breathlessly.

He stood up, walking into the bathroom to dampen a towel with warm water and bring it back to the bed, gently cleaning you up. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. He made his way back into the bed, snuggling up next to you and pulling you into his arms. He watched your expressions and you watched him. You both giggled nervously.

“Do you maybe… want to go out sometime?” he asked, teeth raking over his bottom lip nervously.

“I’d like that.” you giggled, hiding your face in his chest.

You both lay there in comfortable silence, holding each other while your breathing returned to normal. You nodded off, spent from the activities of the morning, and it was Jimin’s turn to watch your peaceful face as you slept. His eyes trailed over your features, adoration and a tinge of something more filling him. True, Jimin had arrived in this small town running away from something. He was searching for something to make him feel anything but the jealousy and pain that had settled deep in his chest. Jimin felt like he was running toward something now, a possibility of the two of you. He knew he wasn’t “fixed”, but he felt good with you, whole with you. 

Jimin knew both of you had a lot of learning to do, and a long way to go and a long way to grow, but he couldn’t stop the excitement bubbling in his chest because for the first time in what seemed like forever, Jimin was happy. Truly, unabashedly happy. He’d started this journey of his running. He thought he’d never recover from the darkness that had taken him over. He thought he’d never find joy again. Jimin had gone desperately searching for something to give him hope.

And then came you.

[daisybeewrites]

The Best Medecine

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluffflufffluff

requested? no i just needed to see daisy take care of daniel

ship: dousy/daniel sousa x daisy johnson

PART 2!! idr have an authors note today, just enjoy :)

(gif not mine)

Daniel felt like crap. 

He had caught Daisy’s cold, and the effects were hitting him harder than a ton of bricks. 

Daisy had recovered fairly quickly after he smoothly convinced her to take the proper medicine and rest. They had a great few days where both of them felt alive and normal, not like zombie versions of themselves. Going grocery shopping (avoiding the soup aisle, they already had a freezer full), taking a day trip to hike the Eaton Canyon trail and picnic, testing out a new prosthetic Fitz designed, and pulling an all-nighter to binge-watch Grey’s Anatomy completed the week wonderfully.

Things were going great! Almost too great. Things never go this great in their universe. Which is why neither of them were surprised when Daniel shot up in bed at 4am sneezing, waking Daisy and, she joked, the rest of the street. He tried to go back to sleep, only to wake up with a loud achoo! ten minutes later. Daniel rubbed his forehead, the pressure centered between his eyebrows insisting that he was not going to get any sort of true rest that day. 

He told a sleepy Daisy that he felt fine, that he just needed a hot bath. It was probably just the spring allergies, right? Nothing to worry about, Daniel told himself as he swung his leg over the side of the bed, grabbing his crutches and lumbering to the bathroom. He splashed his face with warm then cold water before quickly checking that Daisy was asleep again, her silhouette rising with deep breaths, outlined in diffused blue light from the stars on the ceiling. Maybe he could shake this before it got too bad? Surely, it wouldn’t disrupt his routine too much?

Daniel quietly crutched to the soft couch, grabbing a blanket from the pile on the armchair. The flannel of the blankets and the comfortable give of the couch lulled Daniel into a restless sleep. 

Early morning turned to late morning turned to afternoon, Daniel only waking up from tossing and turning when Daisy shook him and offered a sinus pill, which he gulped down with an entire cup of cool water. Three ice cubes shaped like half moons knocked into each other as he tipped the cup back, letting the smooth liquid drown out the scratchiness in his throat.

A glance at the clock alarmed him, mentally calculating how long he slept. He noticed the second quilt that had been laid on top of him, the fleecy textile one Daisy frequently curled up with when she had a bad day. He could faintly smell her coconut and lavender conditioner. It tickled his nose.

“Sweetheart?” Daniel called weakly.

“Mmm?” Daisy hummed.

“I slept for fourteen hours?” Though he asked a question, his tone was almost a statement.

Daisy nodded, slightly smiling. “I think you caught my cold. Maybe cuddling so much wasn’t a good idea.”

Daniel chuckled a little, but stopped when he saw the flicker of worry in her eyes. He reached over to her and grabbed her hand. “I don’t regret any time spent helping you feel better, Daisy.”

She smiled, mirroring his expression. Their eyes both crinkled at the sides, happy gazes taking in the other. Daisy’s eyes still furrowed though, and Daniel cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the frog there before speaking. The action only scratched his throat, a string of coughs interrupting the couple’s staring contest. 

“Hey, could you bring me som—” Daniel was cut off by more crackling coughs. Daisy threw him a concerned glance. He could hardly keep his eyes open, hands clammy and forehead burning, body shaking with hacks. He could feel the dip in the cushion as Daisy moved to sit down beside him, resting her hand on his forehead. Her cool skin felt incredible on his. He understood why she liked it so much when he had done the same. 

He slowly opened his eyes, ignoring the dry, itchy feeling and opting to focus on Daisy above him. She looked beautiful, like an angel, with airy morning light surrounding her and two messy braids running down her back. She was his angel. His angel was smirking at the way he leaned into her touch. 

“These?” she asked, as she held up a small, blue box of tissues. He nodded, swallowing thickly before sitting up and scooting back to lean against the rounded arm of the tan couch. Daisy laughed quietly. 

“What?”

She continued giggling, her small laugh growing a little.

“What’s funny?”

Daisy leaned forward and rested a hand on his thigh for balance. 

“You’re wearing those pajama pants I got you for Christmas,” she explained. He glanced down, recognizing the tiny planets of their solar system dyed into the plush fabric. “They’re cute on you.”

He smiled, gazing at Daisy. Then he sneezed. Luckily, he picked up a tissue and covered his face in time to not sneeze in Daisy’s face. Daisy leaned back, laughing. Daniel started to, too, a low rumble in his chest diffusing the nerves he had felt. This was the first time Daisy had ever seen him sick. There was that one time in space when he had almost gotten (unintentionally) poisoned by alien coffee, but that was an unpleasant memory he didn’t want to dwell on. Other than that, not a single sniffle had popped up. 

Daisy suddenly stood up and slid to the kitchen in sock feet, a large grin on her face.

“Dais, where’re you going?” he wondered out loud. 

“The kitchen, duh,” she replied as she slid to the soapstone countertops, grabbing a red and white box out of the counter. 

Daniel recognized it as Daisy’s favourite tea, she had bought it on a mission in South Africa and became enamoured with it. Sometimes Daniel would catch her up at odd hours of the night, when she couldn’t sleep, out on the back patio drinking a steaming mug of Rooibos. He knew it was her favourite, and it had slowly become his, too. Lately, they have made a habit out of winding down from long days at work with mugs in their hands, on the couch or in the backyard, red-amber liquid relaxing their minds and limbs. Those were some of his favourite times with Daisy, spent talking and drinking their tea and laughing at reruns of sitcoms.

The sound of hot water trickling into a mug pulled him out of his thoughts. The mug in question was one he had made for Daisy—large and hand painted, artsy flicks of white and yellow and blue serving as reminders of their time in space. That was a modern invention he was particularly fond of (paint your own pottery, not space). It was mesmerizing to watch the colored, chalky paint glide onto the ceramic surface. He often went to this local hole-in-the-wall café that let you paint one of their mugs and bring it home, for an extra charge. Their coffee and ‘old-fashioned southern’ biscuits were delicious.

Daniel stared as Daisy danced around the kitchen, her fishtails swishing and hips swaying. There was no music, just her. She dunked the tea bag in a couple times and let it steep. When the tea was ready, she poured in a squeeze of honey and grabbed a shiny green bottle of cough syrup, carefully walking over to the couch. Daniel gently took the mug from her, using the corner of the blanket as a barrier so as not to burn his hands. Daisy sat on the coffee table across from him, smiling as Daniel took a sip. 

“Hot!” he exclaimed.

“I know I am, you don’t have to tell me,” Daisy teased. “Do you want some ice cubes?”

“Jemma would disapprove,” Daniel shot back.

Daisy rolled her eyes and sighed. “Jemma has put up with my odd tea-drinking since 2013. I already made the tea wrong, might as well make it so that you won’t burn yourself trying to drink it.” 

Daniel watched Daisy laugh. As ill as he felt, Daisy just being there helped tremendously. The tea soothed his scratchy throat and her laugh sped up his heart. He knew the pink dust on his cheeks couldn’t be attributed to fever alone. 

The pair sat in silence for a while as Daniel finished the tea, thankful for the warm beverage. His headache was slightly dissipating, due to the tea or Daisy’s light aura he wasn’t sure. He sat the mug down on the table and leaned up to peck Daisy’s lips. She leaned in a bit putting her hand on his chest to pull away.

“How about that bath?”

“Only if you come, too,” Daniel whispered.

Daisy chuckled. “You, lover boy, are sick. If we keep this up, one of us is always going to be sick. And plus, I need you distracted while I make a surprise!”

Daniel perked up, his slight pout disappearing. “A surprise…?”

“Yes, Danny-boy, a surprise. Which means I can’t tell you, so sit here and I’ll go fill the tub and then you can feel the full effects of that chill pill.”

Daniel leaned towards Daisy, confused. “What chill pill?”

“This chill pill,” Daisy said, leaning forward until her nose almost touched his. Daniel’s head swam with the scent of her silky blonde hair and vanilla lotion. She gently rubbed her hands up and down his arms and over his shoulders. He took a moment to watch the twinkle in her eye, the warmth resonating through him. He felt the tension from staying on the couch all day slowly release, his arms coming to wrap loosely around Daisy’s back in an attempt to keep her there. She shook her head with a grin and sat up, easing off the couch.

Daisy kissed Daniel’s forehead before walking down the hall to the bathroom. Daniel watched her leave, conflicted. Shouldn’t he be able to take care of himself? He had for years, why stop now? It isn’t like he couldn’t fill up the tub, or cook or grab tissues, no matter how light headed he got. Why did she want to help him? ‘Because I love you, you stubborn square!’ Daisy would say. He could practically hear her protest, ‘Just let me take care of you! It won’t hurt!’

 If he was honest with himself, that’s all he wanted. 

So, he did.

Daisy came back into the living room, the faint sound of water rushing creating a comforting ambience. He didn’t have his leg on, as laying around all day didn’t require it and he was more comfortable without the prosthetic cramming against the back of the couch. He reached back and grabbed the pair of crutches that were leaned against the arm of the sofa. Daisy walked with him back to the bathroom, making sure he didn’t lose his balance due to dizziness from dehydration. Apparently, that was one reason Daisy had felt so horrible after her mission, she had been so busy taking down bad guys that she almost took herself down, too. Even knowing that dehydration isn’t contagious, neither of them wanted him falling into décor à la Daisy. 

They reached the bathroom, Daisy running to their room to grab an extra set of sweats for Daniel to put on once he was done. 

While she was rummaging through drawers, Daniel carefully undressed and got into the deep tub.

The bath felt incredible. He could smell the lavender from the fancy epsom salt that Daisy had gotten him wafting up from small waves he created. The water was warm, but not so hot that it burned and not so lukewarm that it would go cold in a few minutes. 

“Dais, this is first-class,” Daniel called. 

Daisy giggled a bit before responding. “First-class?”

“I know you’re poking fun, but thank you. It feels amazing.”

Daisy peeked her head around the corner, nodding. 

“I'm glad you like it. Now I'm gonna go fix that surprise. Yell if you need anything, k?”

Daniel nodded and relaxed his head back, muscles slowly easing their tension and his eyes softly closing. 

“Oh, shit!!”

Daniel startled, bath water dripping over onto the towels lining the tub. Daisy’s exclamation didn’t seem pained, but he couldn’t help his brow from creasing. He felt fairly rested, he wasn’t sure how long he had been napping in the water. It had gone from pleasantly warm to tepid, he guessed around thirty minutes at the most. 

“Dais, everything alright?”

Daisy paused before responding, “Yep! Got it all under control!”

Daniel smiled and shook his head, figuring it was probably time to get out and troop back to the living room, anyway.

He grabbed the grip-bar beside the tub and eased up, sitting on the edge before swinging his good leg around and stepping onto the floor. He grabbed a towel off his hook on the wall and started to dry off. Daisy had set a pair of comfy pants and a shirt on the counter, which he pulled on before grabbing his crutches and making his way to the kitchen. Something smelled… burnt. 

He rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks. 

“Uh, Dais?”

“It’s burned, I know,” Daisy said, disconcertedly.

“Are you okay?”

Daisy was staring disappointedly at two bowls of seemingly okay soup. She gestured loosely to the sink, Daniel’s eye following. 

“Oh, okay, yeah, I see.”

There was a large pot sitting in the sink, filled with greyish water, black bits glued to the bottom. 

“I’m sorry. I know cooking isn’t exactly my thing.”

Sousa smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. Daisy’s hands fidgeted, rubbing at her neck.

“Is the soup in the bowls good?”

Daisy looked him up and down, a twinkle of mirth in her eye, like she knew something he didn’t. She shrugged, “The char adds flavour.”

At that, Daniel grinned and stepped forward a little, leaning against the counter next to her. “I’m up for some extra flavour.”

Daisy looked over at him with an odd expression. “Even sick, never fails.”

Daniel responded immediately, “Through sickness and health.”

Daisy’s eyes went wide. 

“Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Daisy’s posture slumped a little as she hit his bicep. “Funny. You’re a funny, funny man.”

He nodded and felt a deep laugh in his chest. “I am very funny, yes.”

Daisy squinted her eyes at him, turning and picking up their bowls of soup to set on the kitchen island. She slid onto one of the backless bar stools that served as seats for when she didn’t feel like being fancy and eating at a table. Sousa took a moment before following, leaning his crutches against the cabinet after sliding onto the stool across from Daisy. He picked up a spoon and tasted the soup, swallowing down a grimace and giving her a thumbs up. 

“It's great!” Daniel exclaimed.

Daisy pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at him, tasting a spoonful. She was not as great at acting as Daniel was, and could barely keep herself from spitting it out.

“Oh, god, that’s awful!” Despite her wry expression, she was giggling as she picked her cell out of her pajama short’s pocket. Daniel eyed her, perplexed as Daisy hit a button in her .

“Yes, hi... Thank you. Can we get six egg rolls, a small veggie fried rice, a plate of crab wontons, and a small shrimp lo-mein?... Yes! Thank you!... Alright, we’ll be there in ten. Have a good evening!” Daniel watched as Daisy hung up, a bright grin slowly spreading across her face.

Daniel mirrored her, smiling wide. “Chinese food?”

“Yep,” Daisy nodded, popping the 'p'. 

Daisy slid lithely off the seat, grabbing the bowls of blackened soup and trashing them. She felt bad, throwing away food. She never got rid of food unless she absolutely had to. Old habits die hard. 

She turned around and gave Daniel a smile. She noticed that he wasn’t as pale, his face wasn’t as flushed and he wasn’t swaying like his head was full of air. Maybe she had helped more than she thought. They walked out to Daisy’s car, a metallic dark grey crossover with slightly tinted windows. Daisy got in on the drivers side, Daniel climbing into the passenger. She cranked the car and turned up the radio, checking that Daniel was okay. It was a slightly chilly evening, and the windows were rolled down just enough to let the air in. 

The evening felt great, the cool air and orange-pink sky refreshing their senses. Daniel’s eyes were soft as he gazed at Daisy. Even though he caught her cold, he had the feeling that Daisy was the best medicine. Lucky him.

Maybe things do go this great in our universe.

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

awwwwwww, cuuuuuuute! as always, feel free to drop a request in my ask box (linked in the bio) or comment any thoughts!! thanks for reading!!

[lesbian-peanut-writer]

Peach Blossoms

Hey there my Little Rogues! Guess what, it’s time for another Collab! I took part in another Collab run by the Bnharem Discord Server, this time we were given the topic of Pen Pals and left to our own imaginations. I didn’t reblog the masterlist this time as I was busy writing and didn’t get the chance but head on over and check out the Masterlist, give these wonderful writers the love they deserve and enjoy the stories! I decided to go with our lovely Miss Momo Yaoyorozu this time around and you know what, the rest explains itself.

I just want to say thank you to @mari-writes-smut​ for bouncing ideas for the story back and forth with me. Thanks to @heyybrittannia​ for helping this clueless person work out what Momo would smell like and find a fragrance that as befitting her. Last but not least thank you to @villain-hotline​ for giving me the name of this Fic when my brain was too fried to think of one for myself.

~Lesbian Peanut

Word Count: 7634

“(Name), there's a letter here for you.”

You perked up at the sound of your mother’s voice calling to you from your doorway, your head snapping around instantly to stare at the thin object hanging precariously from between her fingers. “Is it from her?” Your voice cracking from the pure excitement you couldn’t contain as you vaulted over your bed and bound across your bedroom; heading directly for the sole object of your desires.

Your mother couldn’t help but to laugh at how eager and cute she thought you were being, seeing your eyes alight with anticipation was more than she could handle. She passed the envelope containing the letter over into your hands, watching as you turned it this way and that while inspecting the paper closely. “It has come all the way from Japan, I certainly don’t know anyone else it could be. Do you?” She teased as she pressed a hand to her lips, suppressing the giggles that were threatening to spill from her lips at any moment but unable to stop them causing her body to shake.

“It took awhile for her to respond this time, I wonder if there was a reason for that.” You remarked thoughtfully as you drifted away from your mother and towards your desk where your writing implements awaited your attention.

“You must remember darling; she would be in school around this time.” Your mother chimed a gentle reminder to you as she moved to sit on the end of your bed. “Perhaps one day when we move back to Japan, it won’t be quite so difficult for you to keep in touch with one another.”

“I eagerly wait for that day to make its arrival; it would be most splendid to finally see her!” You turned to beam over at your mother, your excitement evident on your face as you clutched the envelope to your chest securely.

It was mesmerising, the boundless and innocent joy of a child; it never ceased to amaze your mother. Without fail you would become elated with excitement each time a letter arrived at the house for you, seeing your beautiful smile was something your mother looked forward to each time. It had been years since you started exchanging letters and despite being twelve now, you still held the simplistic excitement of a child as you did when the first letter arrived. A tender smile crossed her lips as she watched you turn to open your delivery, your fingers gentle as ever as you slit the letter opener through the top of the envelope. She expected no less, you always took such care when opening the letters you received; she just wished you’d be as careful once they were open.

You smiled as butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, whizzing about as your fingers slipped into the envelope to retrieve your letter. It hit you like a warm breeze, the scent wafting from the papers and enveloping your every sense. You expected it each time and yet it never failed in managing to take your breath away, the sweet but warming scent that came with the papers. You took the papers from their restricting prison, unfolding them fully before lifting them to your nose and breathing deep.

“Shall we get started then??” Your mother’s voice snapped you from your trance and you peered over to her sheepishly as your cheeks heated, flooding with colour. “It’s best not to keep her waiting.”

You nodded eagerly at your mother before taking up your seat at your desk, placing your letter atop it as you pulled out your own paper in preparation for a response before staring down at your letter. The words scrawled across the paper looking more delicate and elegant with each passing year, you could still remember how messy the first one you’d received from her had been; it had taken your mother several hours to decipher the poor handwriting. You shook your head quickly, clearing away the old memories as you focused in on the words before you.

 Dear Miss (Last Name),

I’d like to foremost apologise for my tardiness in replying to you so late after you have sent me your last letter. I assure you it was in no means meant to disrespect you; I have just been busy of late with studies. I will be frank with you though; I feel as though my abilities when compared to those of my peers are severely lacking. Many of my fellow students are more academically inclined than what I am capable of, it feels as though I am falling behind and quickly. I have lost on several occasions with one of my peers when it comes to spelling competitions, the latest word to stump me was one I had never come across before; iridocyclitis.

I do apologise for my ramblings of my academics; it must bother you for me to write about it as such.

In regards to your question from your previous letter, you asked me if I had any success with the Peach Blossom this year. I regret to say, despite my best efforts to keep the beautiful tree alive; it has withered down to nothing this year. Mother is looking at having it removed from the garden soon and starting over with her design.

I must enquire about Bast, is your adorable kitten doing well? You said she was perplexed over being in a new environment, has she since adjusted to her surroundings? I would very much love to see what she looks like one day; I imagine she’s quite beautiful to have you so enamoured with her. Don’t forget being a Sphynx you must keep her ears cleaned regularly and bathe her to remove the build up of oils on her skin.

I hope that your family and yourself are doing well. I can’t wait for the day when we may be chanced with seeing one another, for now though I look forward to your forthcoming letters.

Sincerely

Momo Yaoyorozu

 You smiled as you sat back in your chair, your finger tracing over the paper as you read over her words one more time. That familiar scent wafting through the air towards you, it was something you had yet to figure out the exact fragrance of but it made you feel safe. Your smile turned quickly into a pout as you thought about what you could respond to her letter with, the words just didn’t seem to be coming together as easily as they usually did. You tapped your fingers against the page, Miss Yaoyorozu was rather disheartened by her studies and felt as though she we’re falling behind her peers. You had always felt as though she was one of the brightest people you had ever been given the opportunity to converse with and to read that she was being so hard on herself; it made you sad. You sighed as you read through the paragraph over and over, trying desperately to find the right words that might aid in putting her mind to ease and comforting her.

“Mother, what does this word here say?” You turned your attention to your mother where she sat behind you on your bed.

She blinked rapidly; she had been lost in thought when your sudden words had startled her. She lifted herself up off your bed and moved over to stand beside you at your desk, her small frame leaning down over you as she peered down at your page. “Iridocyclitis, if I remember correctly it’s a word of medical origins. It’s been quite some time since I’ve heard that word myself actually.” Your mother confessed as she tapped her forefinger against her bottom lip thoughtfully, her eyes skimming over the sentence that preluded the word. “It doesn’t surprise me Miss Yaoyorozu got it wrong, I failed to spell that word when I first heard it too.”

“You did?” Your eyes lit up as you looked up to your mother’s face, a smile stretching across your face as she gave a small nod of affirmation. “Thank you, mother. I know now what to say.”

“You’re welcome, (Name).” She smiled as she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving to leave the room and give you the space you often desired to respond to your letters.

 Dear Miss Yaoyorozu,

I find no need for you to apologise for the length of time it took you in responding to my previous letter. There was no disrespect felt or conveyed in any manner and I quite understand the importance of being able to devote oneself to their studies. It saddens me to hear that you feel as such about your academics, it would be my desire to give you a hug if I were there with you now. I’m sure that your fears of falling behind your fellow peers is nothing short of being afraid of failing. My mother informed me that she too failed in being able to spell iridocyclitis as well when she was a girl. I’m positive that with practice and patience, you will overcome the spelling of such difficult words in the future. Perhaps you could reach out towards your fellow peers, invite them to study with you and discover new ways of learning with them.

I am saddened to hear about the Peach Blossom tree, the photo you sent to me of it when it was in bloom in previous years was extraordinarily breathtaking. You shall have to keep me informed on the decisions your mother makes in regards to the garden, its serenity is something that rather appeals to myself.

Bast is doing quite fine now, thank you for asking about her. She has adjusted rather well to her new surroundings now and is instead proving to be quite adventurous of her environment. She is becoming somewhat of a sook and often opts for never leaving my side. I shall enclose a photo of my darling kitten with this letter so you may see for yourself how beautiful she is. I have been cleaning her ears regularly as well as making sure that her skin does not incur a build-up of oils.

My family is doing well, father is as busy as ever and mother is finding new things to keep herself entertained each day. I hope your family is doing just as well, I’m sure they are proud of you. Perhaps when I return home to Japan in the future the two of us can meet then, until then I too look forward to your forthcoming letters.

Sincerely

(First Name) (Last Name)

 You smiled happily as you lay your pen down next to your paper, scanning over the words you had scrawled out in reply. You were content for now to communicate with Miss Yaoyorozu through these letters but you would much rather have been happy seeing her in person.

“One day! I will see you one day without fail, Miss Yaoyorozu.” You declared before rising from your desk to embark on the task of locating Bast for her photo.

~

Delicate fingers ruffled the battered edges of pages in disrepair and diminished over the years. You smiled wistfully as the pad of your forefinger danced gracefully over the indents in the pages where words were scrawled, etched into the depth of the pages by a hand unknowing of its own force. You couldn’t contain the way your smile spread further as you looked down at the all too familiar pages you were holding in your hands, the contents of those pages childish and yet invigorating. The once white pages now discoloured a murky yellow with stains littering them from childish hands that knew no better. These weren’t just any pages you held so lovingly; these were penned to you over the course of several years by one you now considered to own your heart.

You felt almost giddy as you lifted the papers towards your nose, your heart fluttering with elation as you breathed in deep the sweet aroma that even now lingered on those pages. The scent had faded over the years but unlike in your years of childish knowledge, you could now identify exactly what the fragrance was that assaulted your senses. It was an intoxication scent, a mixture of floral with a hint of amber and spices mixed into it. Oh, how you longed to be able to smell that scent anew after all these years and finally see the one of whom it belonged to.

Momo Yaoyorozu, the two of you had exchanged many letters over the years and each one had been as cherished as the next. As the years passed though and things became busier for the both of you, your means of communication had been forced to change in order to better suit your lifestyles. The letters became non-existent and were replaced with daily texts between one another. You had enjoyed the occasional phone call but the hours you got to spend texting with her, were some of your happiest hours of each day.

You were pulled away from your thoughts by the sound of a phone ringing, your eyes falling to the office phone that sat huddled on the corner of your desk. You sighed longingly as you shook your head, retrieving the phone from its cradle before lifting it to your ear. “Good evening, (Name) speaking. How may I help you?”

“My Lady, your car is awaiting you out the front. You need to leave now or you’ll be late to the event tonight.” You blinked as your secretary’s voice came over the line, looking down at the watch wrapped around your wrist and cursing yourself as you realised the time.

“Thank you Uraraka, I seem to have lost track of time up here. Please inform the driver I will be down shortly.” You responded as you opened a drawer, slipping the letters into its depths before returning the drawer to its closed state.

“Of course, My Lady.” Uraraka chimed as she started to hum on the other end of the phone. You were just about to put the phone down when you heard her sudden intake of breath and her scream come through the speaker.

“Yes, Miss Uraraka?” You smiled as you flicked your eyes over to the back of your door, looking at the onyx garment that was hanging there.

“I almost forgot to say, remember your dress is hanging on the back of your door and I brought the shoes you requested from your house over; they’re stored just next to the bookshelf to the right of your door.” She blurted out quickly, as though she were trying to beat someone else to inform you of these things.

“Yes, thank you. I can see the dress on my door and I will find the shoes. Thank you Uraraka, I’ll get changed and head down.” You informed her before placing the phone back down onto the cradle and leaning back in your chair.

You felt as though this night was just going to drag on forever, you wanted nothing more than to already be at this event. You sighed heavily as you pushed yourself forward out of your chair, pressing your hands down onto your desk before hoisting your body up into a standing position. You couldn’t help but to smile as you stalked your way around your desk, your eyes never leaving the garment that hung in the bag. Oh, how you knew this dress well, you hadn’t worn it since you had designed it but now was the time for it to make its debut. You snatched the bag off the door, pulling the plastic away from the hanger before letting it slide down the silky material inside. You smiled happily as you thumbed at the material, your eyes skimming over the garment quickly in search of any flaws that may have revealed themselves.

Satisfied with the quality and integrity of the clothing, you moved quickly to remove the clothes you’d been wearing all day. You couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down your spine as you slipped into the clothing article, smirking as you moved to retrieve your shoes from their hiding place near the bookshelf. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror that stood alone in the corner of your office, your eyes flicking up to your hair where it sat pulled into a tight bun atop your head. You hummed to yourself for a moment, contemplating leaving it as it was before deciding to let it down and watched as it cascaded over your shoulders.

“I think this will about do it.” You whispered to yourself as you ran a hand over your thigh, content with your look before moving to leave your office. It was a quick trip down to the ground floor from your office thanks to the elevator, lord knows you’d have never made it down all those stairs without face planting it at least once.

“Oh… Wow, don’t you look gorgeous?” Uraraka gushed as she leaned against the service desk, her hands clasped over her chest as she stood waiting for your arrival.

“Thank you Uraraka, you look rather stunning yourself.” You returned as you ran your eyes over the dress she was wearing. “Shall we get going then?”

Uraraka nodded as she spun on the spot before moving to grab the front door for you, holding it open as she waited for you to pass through. She trailed behind you as you approached the car, your stride graceful as she watched you walk and only realising you were waiting for her when she almost walked into you. “Ah, sorry My Lady. You just look so beautiful tonight.” She admitted sheepishly as she rubbed at the back of her neck. “I’m certain you’re going to catch a lot of eyes tonight.”

“Is that so?” You murmured softly as you slid into the backseat of the car, propping your elbow up against the window on the other side as you cradled your chin in your hand.

You didn’t hear whatever it was that Uraraka replied to you with, your mind had already drifted off in thought of her comment. You didn’t care for all of the eyes that would be on you tonight, there was only one set that you wished to meet with and that was something you could only hope for. You were pulled from your thoughts when Uraraka tapped your shoulder, realising the car was moving as buildings flashed past the window and you turned to face your companion.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure she won’t be able to take her eyes off of you.” Uraraka giggled as she beamed over at you.

Your skin heated as you flushed violently, your eyes lingering on her face as she giggled harder at your reaction. There were days you wished you had never confided in her about your crush on Miss Yaoyorozu, then again you wouldn’t be where you were tonight without her knowing those details. You sighed heavily as you turned your attention back to the buildings out the window, watching as people moved about on the streets. There was something about the bustle of the nightlife in Japan that always managed to capture your attention, you were unused to so much activity during the night.

You had finally returned home to Japan a little over a month ago, Uraraka or Ochaco as she often preferred to have you call her, was one of the first people you had the luxury of meeting. She had taken on the roll as your Secretary when you had offered her the job and the paycheck had been the main thing to hook her. You didn’t blame her; she wanted the money to help her parents with their business and that honestly made you happy to hear. Ochaco was actually the reason you had the chance to see Momo tonight, if it hadn’t been for her then you probably would have had to wait longer. It just so happened that Ochaco ran in the same circle as Momo, her father owning one of the main construction companies that Momo relied on for her work.

Momo Yaoyorozu, she had made quite the name for herself here in Japan and you couldn’t be prouder of her. She had become a leading Architect and was now one of the most highly sought-after people in the whole of Japan, with the occasional job that would have her called overseas on important jobs. She was the one people turned to when they wanted plans and designs for a building, often being the one appointed to oversee the construction of the buildings as well.

“How much longer?” You piped up as you turned to peek over at Ochaco.

“Not too much longer. The opening celebration shouldn’t start until after we get there.” Ochaco responded as she fiddles with the ends of her dress, the several layers scrunched together in her tiny hands. “How do you think YaoMomo will react?”

You smiled at the nickname your friend had given to Momo over the course of the years they had known each other. “Not sure, she doesn’t even know I’m in Japan at the moment.” You whispered thoughtfully as you looked back out the window.

“Wait, what?” Ochaco squeaked as she turned in her seat fully to stare at you. “I thought she knew! I thought you were just surprising her by turning up tonight. You mean to tell me, you’re surprising YaoMomo with being in Japan altogether?”

You nodded as you closed your eyes, pressing your temple up against the cool glass of the window and allowing it to ease some of the tension there. “I just hope she got the package I sent her.”

“Package…” Ochaco frowned before popping her eyes wide as she grabbed a hold of your arm. “That was you? Tell me that’s a joke, you sent her that expensive package the other day?” She squeaked in disbelief.

You giggled as you moved your hand to release her hands from around your arm. “Ochaco, just what exactly do I do for work?”

“You’re a fashion de… oh!” She giggled as she moved to sit properly in her seat. “I see, well played (Name), well played.”

“My Lady, we’ve arrived at your destination.”

The two of you were pulled from the childishness of the moment by the announcement from the driver, your head snapping up instantly to look out at the building outside. It was a magnificent building, a Science Hub built for the youth of Japan to make use of in order to help further their studies and achieve high in their academics. Momo had been the one to spearhead the entire operation and tonight was the Grand Opening of the Hub, not to mention a huge thank you party for the woman herself.

You felt the butterflies spring to life in your stomach as you stared out at the building, suddenly the weight of the situation was suddenly all too real. Somewhere, in the depths of that building was the woman you had spent years exchanging words with and spent endless hours longing to see. Your heart felt as though it was in your throat, beating rapidly as you realised the only thing standing between you and Momo was a set of doors.

You yelped as the door disappeared from in front of you and you suddenly toppled forwards out of the car, thankful for the fact Ochaco was quick on her feet; catching you before you could hit the ground. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you were still leaning against the door.” She apologised profusely as she sat you back up in the car properly.

“It’s fine, probably just the distraction I needed just now.” You smiled as you took her hand, accepting her help as you got out of the car and smoothed out your clothes properly. You turned promptly to thank your driver, bowing to him respectfully before stepping away from the car. You watched as he drove off, turning to face the building as he disappeared and moved off for the entrance.

Your breath was baited as you walked inside the building, your eyes scanning the crowd within as you sought out one person in particular. You watched as Ochaco detached herself from your side and disappeared within the mass of people, one would think you’d be used to this many people with your line of work; truth was you really weren’t! You took a deep breath as you stepped away from the entrance, taking your time to weave through the close-knit crowds and avoid bumping into people along the way. You were beginning to get overwhelmed with the crowds of people as you moved further into the building, feeling as though you’d never be able to locate Momo.

A flash of red. A giggle comparable to wind-chimes. You snapped your head to the right as your eyes locked on to the vibrant red that stood out amongst the crowd, complemented by the dark hair that fell in waves half way down the back of its owner. Your heart raced as you stood there, your teeth pinching your bottom lip between them and chewing on it anxiously. She was splendid, the sight of her standing there in all her elegance was more than your poor heart could handle. You moved without thinking, your feet carrying you across the room until you were standing just behind the woman of your desires. You watched as she bowed respectfully to her company, of whom departed from her and left her standing to herself.

There it was, washing over you in a thick and refreshing wave; the scent of your childhood. “Freesia mixed with sheer Jasmine and a hint of Amber. It’s a rather warm scent, Miss Yaoyorozu.” Your voice was loud enough to reach her ears and you watched as her body stiffened, her hands falling slack to her sides just moments before her body spun in your direction.

“(Name)…”

Your name was but a whisper as it fell from her lips, only for your ears and enough to send your heart into a chaotic flutter. You smiled as you stepped in closer to her, extending your right hand out towards her as you locked eyes with hers. “You didn’t think I would miss this now, did you?” You teased as you tilted your head to the side and awaited her response.

Momo smiled as she moved, forgoing your hand and pulling you in tight against her body in a crushing hug. “What are you doing here? You’re not due back for another month.” She questioned as she nuzzled into the side of your neck.

You blinked as you wrapped your arms around her slender form, your face pressing into her shoulder as you closed your eyes. “I wanted to surprise you.” You confessed as you breathed in, her perfume assaulting your senses as you tightened your grip around her. “I’ve waited so long for this day to present itself.”

“So too have I.” Momo admitted as she placed a tender kiss in the crook of your neck, causing your breath to hitch as you stiffened in her hold. “I want nothing more than to leave this place and head home with you.” She whispered against your ear.

You smiled as your cheeks heated, nuzzling into her shoulder as you hid your face from prying eyes. “We can’t, this is your night Momo.” You reminded her gently as you ran your fingers up along her back tenderly.

“And, it is now complete thanks to your being here.” She declared as she pulled back away from you and looked down into your eyes. Momo blinked as she looked into your eyes, her eyebrows knitting together out of confusion as she released you from her grip. “How did you know about tonight?”

You smiled as you scanned the crowd, your eyes landing on the frilly pink dress and the bob of brunette hair. “I have my ways.” You relucted as you turned your attention back to the woman in front of you.

Momo watched as you stepped back from her, tilting her head as you looked her up and down. “Do I pass your inspection, (Name)?” She asked as a giggle bubbled to life in her chest.

“I have to say, my dress looks much better on you than I had anticipated for it to.” You confessed as you moved to circle around her, taking in the way the gown adorned her body.

The dress she was wearing was one you had made specifically for her and by lords did it work magic when she wore it, or perhaps she was the one working the magic. It was the perfect fit for her figure, hugging her curves in all the right ways while still having enough give so as not to hinder her movements or suffocate her. If you had to describe the image she gave you in that moment, you would compare her to a flame standing proud and elegant in all its glory. The floor length vermilion gown complimented perfectly by the black waves that flowed elegantly over her shoulders. You couldn’t help but to let your eyes slip down to the slits that ran up the sides of the dress, stopping at her hips and exposing the beautiful expanse of her powerful long legs.

“My eyes are up here, (Name).”

“Oh, trust me, I’m well aware where your eyes are my love.” You retorted as you circled her once more before coming to a stop in front of her. “My dress is perfect when worn by you.”

“I was right about it being from you then.” Momo smiled as she skimmed her hand over the fabric covering the front of her thigh. “I had a feeling that might have been the case when I saw the design along the hem of the dress. Peach Blossoms, just like the ones I used to have.”

“I told you, I liked those Peach Blossoms.” You admitted as you peeked down to the blossoms that seemed to be swirling to life with each slight movement Momo made.

“We match, don’t we?” Momo asked as she motioned to your dress and quirked an eyebrow in question.

You nodded in affirmation of her question, flicking your eyes up to her face in time to catch a smile gracing her features. “Beside the colour, our dresses are twins. I designed them myself.”

“Of course.” Momo whispered thoughtfully as she squatted down in front of you, her hand coming out to catch the hem of your dress as she traced her thumb over one of the blossoms. “No-one else could ever capture the true beauty of the blossoms as you could.”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you peered down at Momo, she looked so serene as she was but her current positioning was garnering quite a few unwanted stares from the crowd. You opened your mouth in preparation to say something to her but snapped it shut when you caught sight of a man heading towards the two of you.

“Miss Yaoyorozu, your presence is required at the stage please?” The man stated curtly as he motioned towards a temporary stage that had been set up within the area of the building.

“Yes, I shall be there shortly.” She quipped as she stood from her position and looked straight into your eyes. “Meet me here when this is all over, ok?” You nodded in submission to her request and watched as she was led off by the man.

You stood amongst the crowd as the guests were welcomed and thanked for being there for the grand opening. Your eyes quickly wandered over to where Momo was standing off to the side, blushing when you realised her attention wasn’t on the speaker either but focused solely on you. You smiled, suppressing a giggle as you pointed towards the speaker and Momo reluctantly turned her head back to focus on the man. He thanked her for her dedication and effort that she had put into the project and presented her with an award for her efforts. The crowd applauded her for her achievement and you couldn’t help but to clap along with them; you were so proud of her after all. You listened closely as she thanked the speaker before turning to thank those in the crowd for having attended the opening ceremony tonight.

Before you could register what was happening the crowd erupted into incessant chatter and started to break off into the smaller groups from before. You jolted as your hand was grabbed from nowhere but you were instantly calmed as you locked with onyx orbs staring down at you. A singular tug of your hand was more than enough of a message to let you know what it was Momo wanted from you. You smiled and nodded as she pulled you along after her, only stopping to thank people for their murmurs of congratulations as she made a beeline for the entrance. You shuddered as you stepped out into the cold of the night, the air washing over your skin and you stepped in closer to Momo in order to shield yourself from it.

“(Name)!” You blinked as you peeked up at Momo, her eyes flicking down to your lips as she bit her own bottom lip. “Kiss me!”

~

The drive to Momo’s house had been nothing but a blur for you, after giving in to her request for a kiss the two of you had hardly been able to keep your hands off one another. It had been a slow and tender kiss but it had quickly turned fevered as you had managed to thread your fingers up into her long hair. The two of you only breaking apart after her driver had cleared his throat several times in order to gain your attention. You’d been snuggled into her side for the entire drive, your mind focused solely on her left hand which she had slipped inside the slit of your dress and allowed to sit atop your thigh.

You giggled as Momo pulled you inside her house, bumping the front door closed with her arse before flicking the lock into place and turning the security system on. You were lost in admiring her hallway and the delicate designs around the awnings when suddenly her hands were on your hips and she was spinning you in place. You squealed as she pushed you, your back pressing up against the cold wall as her thigh slipped between your own and she pinned you beneath her heated gaze. You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, pulling on the sensitive flesh as you watched her longingly. Her lips pulled up into a smile as she dipped her head, pressing her lips along your jaw and making her way up towards your ear before biting down behind your ear.

You gasped and mewled as you arched your body in response to her action, your fingers flexing where she held your hands above your head as you rolled your hips forwards. Soft moans left your lips as she chewed on the spot, rolling her tongue over it as she pushed her thigh further between yours. Your breath hitched as her thigh pressed against your folds giving you the pressure, you desperately needed as you rocked your hips forwards. Whimpers and moans left your lips as you shamelessly moved your hips, grinding against her thigh as she littered your neck in a barrage of kisses.

“(Name).” Momo whispered heatedly as she released your arms, her hands coming down to trace over your sides as she pulled at the edges of your dress. “I want you.”

If only this woman knew what those words would do to you. You whimpered as you moved your hands to grasp her shoulders, pushing her back and pinning her against the opposite wall as you looked up into her eyes. “I’ve waited so damn long to hear those words, Momo!” You confessed as you let her go, moving to undo the back of your dress as you kept your eyes on her.

Momo smirked as she pushed off the wall, tucking her fingers beneath the straps of your dress before sliding them down off your shoulders. You shuddered as her fingers ghosted over your skin, only to be followed by her lips as she planted kisses over your exposed skin. You stumbled backwards with her as she urged you down the hallway, kicking her shoes off as she went and continuing to push your dress down your arms. You giggled as you kicked off your shoes, discarding them individually down the hallway as she pushed you further into the depths of her house. Momo stopped as she peered down at you heatedly, releasing your dress and watching as it skimmed over your skin to pool at your feet.

“Perfect.” Her voice was soft as she whispered that singular word and her hands were on your skin. You’d spent years dreaming of having her hands over your skin, of having her mouth and teeth leaving marks over your body.

You slipped your hands up under her hair, searching for the zipper in her dress as you sought to see her body. Momo giggled as her hand came up to replace your own, pulling the zipper of her dress down as she nudged you further down the hallway, her eyes never leaving your body as she greedily drank up your beauty. You watched in awe as she shimmied her dress off her shoulders before letting it fall from her shoulders, only needing to push it down over her hips before it pooled on the floor beneath her. You stood there staring at her as you abused your bottom lip feverishly, your eyes drinking in every bit of her body hungrily. You were so lost in her beauty; you didn’t register that she was getting closer to you until the moment her hands gripped your hips and she lifted you off the ground. You squealed as she moved your body so easily, shivering violently as your arse came into contact with a cold surface and you realised you were now on the counter in her kitchen.

“Momo…” You raised an eyebrow as you looked into her eyes, her lips pulled into a breathtaking smile as she closed the distance between you.

You moaned as she latched her mouth onto your breast, her teeth ghosting over your skin as she teased at the possibilities. You whined as her hands gripped your thighs roughly, her tongue dancing over your chest as she pressed the crown of her head against your throat. You squirmed against her hips as you wrapped your legs around her waist and threaded your fingers into her hair securely. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted, her mouth moving lower over your body as she slipped her hands beneath your thighs and started to push them apart. You purred low in pleasure as her teeth sunk into your stomach and hips as she unhooked your legs from around her waist. Your eyes shot open as her hand pressed against your chest and she pushed you down onto the counter. You looked down at her in time to watch her head disappear between your thighs.

Momo smiled as she spread your thighs wide, hooking your legs over her shoulders as she dipped her head in close to your heat. She nuzzled her nose against the lacy material, soaked by the juices leaking from your needy pussy. She flicked her eyes up to your face, watching you as she flicked her tongue out and pressed it flat against your panties. Momo closed her eyes as a soft moan left your lips and she pushed her tongue against your pussy firmer, pressing the material and her tongue between your folds ever so slightly. She hummed low in appreciation as she moved her tongue along your folds, the lacy material of your panties an odd sensation against her tongue as she took in the taste of your juices.

You moaned and squirmed as you tangled a hand further into her hair as you arched your back, you wanted more from her but you knew she was enjoying herself. You gasped and bucked your hips as she located your clitoris, pulling it between her teeth and rolling it delicately between them. A wanton moan left your lips as you curled your toes, the fabric of your panties only adding to the sensation against your clitoris.

“Momo… Please?” You pleaded as you rolled your hips desperately and pulled on her hair.

Momo giggled as she lifted her head from between your thighs, looking down at your face as she pulled your panties down along your legs before throwing them out of the kitchen. “As you wish, (Name). Such a pretty voice when you beg.”

You blushed violently as you looked up at Momo, watching as she flicked her tongue out over her lips before diving back down between your thighs. You were about to argue with her when she lapped her tongue along your pussy, cleaning up your juices as they flowed. You moaned as she hooked your thighs over her shoulders and pushed her hot tongue into your pussy. You bucked your hips as you tightened your grip on her hair, her tongue pushing deep within your pussy as she wriggled it about.

Momo smiled as she closed her eyes, she couldn’t help but to be enticed by your taste as she pushed her tongue deeper into your heat. She moved her tongue about, pressing it against your walls roughly as she savoured your flavour. She smirked as she flicked her tongue about, satisfied when she heard your breath hitch and your body arched off the counter. Your hand pulled on her hair roughly as your hips rolled down to press against her face as she found that spot inside of you. Momo hummed low as she licked feverishly, lapping up your juices as she rubbed her tongue against your spot. She snaked a hand around your thigh, pressing her thumb against your clitoris before rubbing it in a tight circle and causing you to cry out her name.

You threw your head back as your body arched off the counter, a rush of pleasure coursing through your body as Momo assaulted your senses from inside and out. You curled your toes against her back as you moaned, whimpering her name as you moved your free hand to grip the counter. You cried out as you bucked your hips, Momo’s tongue relentlessly pushing against your walls before rubbing over your spot in a disorientating cycle. Wait, what was that?

“Holy fuck!” You cursed as a metal ball pressed against the walls of your quivering pussy; Momo had a friggen tongue piercing! Fuck you loved this woman, she seemed to be full of surprises but by the gods was she damn good with her tongue.

You let your head loll back over the edge of the counter, your hand tightening in her hair as you slowly let your eyes slip open. Red. That was the first thing that registered in your mind, red orbs filled with distaste as they glared at you from across the room. You gasped and moaned as you blinked desperately trying to clear your vision of its lust filled haze. You stiffened as your eyes locked with crimson eyes set in a scowl and your body instantly seized up. You flicked your eyes over the occupant on the other side of the room and realisation suddenly set in to your fogged brain. You screamed as you sat upright on the bench, pulling Momo’s head up from between your thighs as you blushed furiously.

“You fucking done now?” The gruff voice came from behind you as the sound of shuffling feet could be heard approaching you both.

“Hardly even, we were just getting started.” Momo quipped up as she stood in front of you and wrapped her arms around your form, her lips pressing against your ear.

“Yeah, on my fucking counter!” He growled as he moved, coming into your vision as he walked around the counter and went to what you presumed to be the fridge.

“It’s not like you’ve never fucked anyone on this counter.” She shot back quickly as she looked over her shoulder at the blonde man behind her. “Need I name a particular brunette I keep finding on your counter?”

“MY COUNTER, damn it Ponytail!” He snarled as he slammed the fridge shut and took a long gulp from the bottle of water he’d retrieved from its depths.

“Very well Bakugou, I shall take her to my bedroom.” Momo relucted as she nuzzled into your neck and opted for ignoring her housemate. Somehow it had managed to slip your mind that Momo shared her house with the one and only Katsuki Bakugou, a well-known lawyer who was yet to lose a case and was her own legal representative.

“Good.” He huffed out before moving to head back across the room. “And pick up the damn peach blossoms in the fucking hallway!” He growled before disappearing into a different part of the house.

You blinked as you peeked around Momo’s shoulder and peered back down the hallway, it did indeed look like scattered Peach Blossoms with your belongings scattered the way they were. You smiled despite the situation and burst into laughter as you pressed your forehead against her shoulder. “What now?” You asked softly as you kissed her neck tenderly.

“I finish my meal!” She declared before sinking back down between your thighs.

[dat-town]

love you like a love song baby

Characters: Jungkook & you

Setting: best friends to lovers

Genre: tooth-rotting fluff

Words: 1.8k

Summary: Just two emo kids growing up together and getting together over a failed sponge cake.

You have imagined it, confessing, countless times.

Cheesy like in romance movies and rushed because you're nervous. You even practiced what you would say. How you would reassure him that, of course, he isn't obligated to return your feelings and he doesn't even have to reply because you just had to get this off your chest.

This feeling that's sometimes too big for your body. It's overwhelming how much he can make you feel. When you have a bad day, sometimes it's enough to hear him talk about some video game or a new editing technique he learnt for his youtube channel. Or when he enthusiastically tells you about meeting that cute labrador by the park on his way home and you can't help but imagine getting a dog together. Or the way he makes your heart jump, your blood sing and your head swim when he envelops you in his big hugs, when he smiles down at you like he means it, when he jokingly lift you up as an exercise and when he oh so casually sings mainstream love songs around you.

But the thing about this growing, pulsing, very much alive feeling in you is that it doesn't only make you happy and excited. It has an ugly part with teeth biting and claws crawling. It's the jealousy and self-doubt whenever you see him around other girls, prettier ones and you see him flash them shy, bunny smiles. It's disappointment when he skips one of your regular movie nights to hang out with the boys or because he's too tired or would rather do his homework. It's the loneliness you feel even beside him in those vulnerable moments because you know he'll never feel that way. And the worst is that you know you can't blame him for these unwanted feelings or the tears nobody has seen you shed late at night because it's all you. It's your fault for developing a crush on your best friend and he doesn't even know.

It's better this way, you tell yourself but you can't help but wonder: what if it isn't?

You and Jungkook became friends at the naive, fragile age of fourteen, in middle school, a questionable phase for both of you but let's admit: listening to depressive music together is one hell of a bonding. It's been history ever since because with him, it's always like puzzle pieces falling back into their places. You went to high school together and Jungkook even joined the art class you wanted to take but was too shy back then to go alone and you were always there to cheer for him at the track and field competitions. When you were both admitted to Seoul universities - you for interior design and him for movie directing -, it went without saying to rent a place together. It felt perfect because what could go wrong? you asked yourself and you didn't know that the answer was everything until Yein.

Before Jungkook had his fair share of crushes he always talked about but never acted on his feelings. So when the pretty girl in his photography class came around it was all new. Suddenly it wasn't just the two of you and you got a first hand experience of what your best friend could feel during your brief relationship with Yugyeom in the junior year of high school. You told yourself that it wasn't jealousy, you just missed your best friend and for real, you liked Yein. She was quiet and smart and she was good for Jungkook and yet, you couldn't be entirely happy for them. After months of denying, struggling alone and fighting it, you finally admitted to yourself why: you were in love with Jungkook. (You still are.) And suddenly, everything made sense. From then on every comment on how cute you look together and every correction that you are just best friends hurt too much.

Jungkook and Yein lasted for about six months. Jungkook refused to tell you why exactly they broke up and said it just didn't work out and let him be. Ironically, a year later you met Yein at a yoga class downtown and ended up sitting down for a coffee to catch up. It wasn't you who brought up Jungkook, she asked about him and told you:

"He couldn't give me his heart, he was keeping that safe for somebody else.”

You have thought it was an odd reason to broke up over in university but didn't tell her. You still chat sometimes when meet in an afternoon yoga session but don't talk about Jungkook anymore.

So things between you and Jungkook shouldn't have changed but they did, inevitably because now you catch yourself staring more than you should as his best friend, especially when the boy has the nerve to walk around the flat shirtless. Or when he clings to you during movies, resting his head in your lap while analyzing every damned thing happening on screen and you absentmindedly play with his hair, combing it with your fingers, your heart shouldn't flutter so much at the content little noises he makes. Or when he asks for your opinion about his latest video and starts explaining all the aspect you'd never understand anyway, the urge shouldn't be so strong to just tell him: gosh, I'm so in love with you.

So yeah, you have thought about it million and million times, counting pros and cons but always ended up too afraid to ruin your friendship. It doesn't stop you though from pouring the amount of your heart's content into the bowl before you after double checking in the recipe how much sugar you need for the cake.

“Shit,” you stare at the kitchen scale in horror and end up scooping half of the sweetener back.

Jungkook seemed a bit down in the morning, probably still fussing over that job interview from last week that didn't go well, and exclaimed that he was going out for a run even in the rainy Saturday weather. He was out of the door before you could tell him to put on a jacket at least. So that's it, that's why you decided to brighten up his mood and make him a homemade cake even though you are a complete disaster in the kitchen if it's anything else but instant noodles. Nobody deserves to be sad on their birthday and especially not Jungkook if you can do anything about it.

But of course nothing works out as it should, you're out of coconut powder, so you change the recipe in the middle of the making. You also accidently put too much cream between the layers of the too thin sponge cake and it kind of falls apart. At least it doesn't taste horrible but it definitely looks like something a six years old would make. Maybe if you didn't listen and dance to the old greatest hits on the radio while baking, you could actually be decent in the cooking department, but nah, what's the point then?

"OhmygOSH! When did you get back?” you cry out in surprise when in-between a dramatic turn to a Disney era Selena Gomez song you notice Jungkook watching you from the living room with strong arms folded in front of his chest and an amused smile on his face. How dares he look at you like that after almost giving you a heart attack?

"Not that long,” he shrugs, something still tugging the corners of his mouth upwards and drops of water from his hair leave wet spots all over the floor and well, everywhere.The neon coloured running shirt he wears is a tight fit on his body, sticking to him like second skin because of the rain and sweat. He looks like he stepped out of a sportswear commercial.

“You have flour on your face,” he points out, nose scrunching, laughing. You love the sound of that too much to mind that he's making fun of you. Too enamoured, you cannot even stop him when with two long strides he steps in front of you and gently wipes off the ingredient with his thumb. Your cheek tingles where he touched you and it takes you a moment to collect your thoughts with him looking down at you like that.

“And you stink, not to mention you are drenched. Go shower and change,” you put your hands on your waist trying to sound and act like you're in charge in the situation. Your messy emotions protest.

“Yes, m'lady,” Jungkook salutes jokingly and you take a deep breath when he leaves.

When he comes back freshly washed in sweatpants and the kind of big white shirt you like to steal to sleep in, he ends up helping you making the frosting on his own birthday cake.You work together so well, methodically and it's so sweetly domestic that those greedy feelings come back again. But it's his day, you won't ruin it, because you don't want to see anything but smiles on his face today.

You order pizza for lunch and eat half the cake before it even arrives. And when it does, Jungkook is already whining with his best aegyo about wanting to get his present. You have been hinting about it for weeks, that you have the perfect gift and can't wait to give it to him. So  how could you say no when he asks so cutely?

You watch him with knots in your stomach as he neatly takes off the wrapper of the box and opens it up. Inside of it, there's a vintage polaroid camera he has been talking about for months. Jungkook stares at the device like he doesn't quite believe his eyes and then up at you in awe.

“I love you,” he blurts out eyes shining from excitement, tears brimming in the corners and a huge grin plastered on his face. Your heart does that thing again and you feel the heat of a blush on your face.

“I love you too,” you mumble and hug him tighter when he pulls you into his arms.

You have been friends for far too long, of course, you have said these three little words before but you started to think that it means very different for you. But pulling back Jungkook looks at you half-conflicted, half-determined and his tongue stumbles over the next words.

“No I… I love love you. I think a part of me always did.”

You can't help the light sob escaping you, curling your fingers into the boy's shirt.

“Really?” the hopeful question falls from your lips and for a moment you think you're dreaming because it can't be happening. But then Jungkook lunges forward, takes your face into his hands and presses his sugar-coated lips to yours.

“Really,” he whispers into the small space between you.

Looking at his happy face and listening to the drums of that rapidly beating heart of yours, the realization hits you hard of how utterly stupid you were because instead of imagining confessing, you should have just done it.

[minstrels-ink]

Promises (Ignoct Secret Santa)

This is the @ignoctsecretsanta​ fic for @yippykyeyay​

Apologies for the uninspired title. I took the ring idea and ran with it... a lot, ahaha. I hope you like this. \o/

Ignis was eight when the carnival came to Insomnia, the first and last event of its kind since the Wall went up. Maybe the rarity of the occasion was why the king agreed so easily when Noctis asked, bright-eyed and eager, if Ignis could take him there.

It was early morning still, barely past dawn. Ignis had no idea how someone whose day typically started at noon could be awake when he himself was just barely so. And was Noctis ever awake, talking a hundred miles a minute about candy apples and balloons, clowns and jugglers and fire-eaters and please Dad could they go he'd listen to everything Ignis said.

By the time Ignis registered the question, he'd already answered yes, of course he could take care of Noctis for the day, His Majesty had no cause for concern; no, no, it wasn't too early, he'd be happy to accompany His Highness whenever; a car to bring them there, how generous, much appreciated.

Less than an hour later, Ignis somehow found himself in front of the gates to the Insomnia Fairgrounds with nothing but his wits, a small purse of spending money, and a very excitable prince.

Despite the early hour, the carnival was already in full swing, tumblers and buskers and street performers in vibrant colors bringing life to the morning. The Fairgrounds, normally rather empty and used more often for Crownsguard training than for fairs, was so transformed as to be nearly unrecognizable. Streamers and wreaths adorned lampposts, pennants hung on ribbons strung across streets, and floating balloons marked a path seen above the tops of the buildings. The scent of a score of different snacks wafted towards them, and while Ignis's mind warned him against their unhealthy nature, his mouth watered all the same.

Thus began their day: stuffing their faces full of foods primarily made of sugar and grease.

There was a common misconception that Noctis was a picky eater. Ignis was one of the few people to know that this was only partially true. Noctis was only picky when it came to gourmet fare, with rare and exotic ingredients, usually vegetal, that bombard him with unusual tastes. Deep fried street food, on the other hand, had no such ingredients, and the young prince scarfed them down with relish. There was not even a single vegetable in sight, the only remotely similar option being apples coated with so many layers of sugar that they were more candy than fruit.

It wasn't long before Noctis consumed what must have been his own body mass in food, and Ignis almost as much in leftovers. When Noctis eyed the next snack stand, Ignis made an executive decision.

“Noct, how about some games instead?”

Like most kids his age, Noctis loved games. With noon drawing near, more and more people started arriving, and the previously idle stands around the fairgrounds came alive with lights and sounds. Attendants advertised fun! Excitement! Prizes! It was no difficult task to convince Noctis to forsake food in favor of winning some games.

In fact, it was a little too easy. Noctis played game after game with great gusto – ball tosses and ring tosses and beanbag tosses; games of luck, games of guessing, games of strength; he stayed a while watching and playing a fishing game, using a rod to ease out sparkling plastic goldfish.

However, also like other kids his age, Noctis was not particularly good at games. It didn't take long for Ignis's wallet to get light and his pockets to get... not anywhere near heavy. Their winnings were scant and small, mostly candies and trinkets given as consolation. Noctis's greatest prize was no more than a ring with a shiny glass gemstone. Too big for either of them to wear, it hung around the prince's neck with a piece of twine the attendant gave them. The lack of prizes didn't seem to bother Noctis, who cared more about playing than winning, but as the treasurer of their little expedition, Ignis was a bit less thrilled.

In a lull between games, Ignis held out the last of their funds, a few measly coins in his palm. “Noct, we don't have a lot of money left.”

“Oh.” A pause. Noctis glanced at the coins. “How much is that?”

Ignis did a quick count. “Enough for maybe one game.”

“Then we'll have to pick a good one.”

While Ignis was happy about the rather sensible reply, picking their final “good” game proved to be a surprisingly difficult task. All of the games were fun, but none stood out enough to spend the very last of their money on, not even the fishing game Noctis was enamoured of. (“It's okay, Iggy,” he said when asked, “I played it for like an hour.” This wasn't untrue.)

And then they saw it.

“That one!” Noctis declared, coming to a sudden stop and pointing excitedly.

Ignis followed the trajectory of Noctis's arm to see not a game, but a giant plush chocobo sitting on a prize shelf.

“Noct, that's not...” he started, but Noctis gave an insistent tug on his hand, and he had little choice but to follow.

“This one,” Noctis said again, with a nod for emphasis. Then, after a moment of thought, he added, “You do it.”

That was how Ignis found himself in front of a game that was most definitely too far above his level, while Noctis beamed like a proud cat beside him. The game looked like some kind of a dart-throwing challenge, with a wall of bright balloons that served as targets.

The attendant eyed them warily as Ignis approached. “Are... you lost, young man? Do you need help finding your parents?”

“What?” It took a moment for the question to register. “No, I...” Ignis cleared his throat. “I want to try my hand at this.”

There was a stretch of silence. The attendant looked at Ignis as if he'd spoken another language, then shook her head. “I'm sorry, this game is for adults. You're a bit... young.”

Ignis sighed. While that wasn't altogether unexpected, it was a bit inconvenient.

Most of the attendants at the previous games they’d played seemed to have recognized Noctis, judging from the extra tries they’d give him, the prizes they’d award him simply for visiting. This one, however, was a rare exception, showing no signs of recognition, nor any willingness to look the other way for what must have seemed a strange and delusional child claiming he knew how to use throwing knives, so darts really weren’t a problem.

“I’ve been authorized by the Crown Prince of Lucis,” Ignis tried, after exhausting all other options.

The attendant looked even less convinced than when he’d told her he was proficient with throwing knives, despite the fact that this was technically more true.

Fortunately, Ignis was saved from abusing his – or rather, Noctis’s – power by a shift change. The newly arrived attendant glanced at them, did a double take, and started whispering furiously to the previous one. In the din of the noise, Ignis couldn’t catch anything more than scraps of words, but he was quite certain he’d heard “Prince Noctis” somewhere in there.

“We’d be honored to let the prince and his royal retainer play our game!” the second attendant said after a short debate, all too cheerfully, and all too loudly. “Please, step right up!”

Ignis tried not to look too smug.

The smugness disappeared when, approximately two seconds later, Ignis realized that getting permission was the easy part, and he’d never touched a dart before in his life, much less threw one in a game designed to trip up even the most experienced of dart throwers. But Noctis was looking at the chocobo plush longingly, and a crowd had started to gather to watch “the prince and his royal retainer” play games, so Ignis swallowed his nerves and picked up a dart, pretending to examine it. The balance felt all right… maybe. He had no real ways of telling.

“I just have to hit one with a star on it to get that, correct?” he asked with far more confidence than he felt.

The attendant followed his gaze to the stuffed bird. “Yep! Any of the unmarked balloons gets you one of these guys.” She gestured to a line of smaller toys. “The ones with stars net you anything you want from the top shelf.”

He had three darts. That meant three attempts, he assumed. Three chances to look like a fool in front of Noctis and this damnable crowd.

Ignis prayed to all the Astrals that might be listening, and threw.

The first dart hit the board with a satisfying thud, nowhere near where he was aiming. Unsurprisingly, these were, in fact, nothing like throwing knives.

Ignis took careful aim with the second dart. He was supposed to be good at this! Even Lord Amicitia said he had a knack for throwing weapons.

It… Well. It hit.

And then it bounced off.

The crowd gasped in dismay as Ignis stared at the offending dart, trying to ignore the welling frustration. How was he supposed to protect Noctis if he couldn’t even break a balloon? It didn’t matter to him that the two were entirely dissimilar – a failure was a failure, after all.

Last one, then.

He aimed true, and threw as hard as he could.

When later recounting the story, Ignis would swear it was pure determination that saw him succeed. At the time, however, all he knew was there was a loud sound followed by a wave of cheers, and then Noctis was hugging him and laughing.

Ignis felt in a surreal dream when he asked for the giant chocobo plush and handed it to Noctis. He felt like a hero. …A bumbly, blushing hero, mind, when Noctis leaned up and planted a messy kiss on his cheek, right in front of everyone. (“It’s what they do on, like, all the TV shows,” was Noctis’s explanation. Ignis didn’t watch enough TV to say otherwise.)

“Hey Iggy,” Noctis said later, as they sat outside waiting for a car to take them back to the Citadel.

“What is it, Noct?” Ignis arched an eyebrow. The prince had a shy, secretive look on his face, and Ignis wasn’t sure he’d recovered enough from the earlier fluster yet for whatever else Noctis had planned.

“I was thinking,” Noctis began, then looked down, fiddling with his hands. “Um. Dad was reading me a story the other day, and the prince gave a princess a ring, and Dad said…” The rest of the words came tumbling out. “Dad said giving someone a ring means you want to spend the rest of your life with them so Iwantyoutohavethis.”

It took a moment for Ignis to process what happened, from the rush of words to the ring Noctis held out, the ring he’d won earlier. If he wasn’t overwhelmed earlier, he definitely was now. “Noct… Of course.”

“It’s a promise, okay?” Noctis asked, kingly despite his tousled hair and ruddy cheeks.

“Promise.” The rest of their lives sounded pretty good. “Always.”

Ignis knew the moment the Accursed returned to the world, knew from the way his old scars flared up with phantom pain, knew when the dormant crystal pulsed with light, a silent warning beacon.

Knew, because the slowly encroaching night grew rapidly longer, and soon, without the Oracle, the bloodline of the Nox Fleurets alone would no longer be enough to hold the darkness at bay.

And then there were the nightmares, acute and resentful. Frequent. Ardyn attacked Ignis’s dreams with all the subtlety of an imperial dreadnought, making no attempts to hide his hand. Even in sleep, Ignis could sense the foreign influence, but that didn't seem to deter the Accursed. Instead, each nightmare became more pointed, more poignant, faceless torment shaping into personal torture as Ardyn gauged his every reaction.

The first time Ignis dreamt of Noctis, broken and impaled, he woke up in a cold sweat, gasping with pain that didn't fade on waking. His eyes burned, and his hand burned, and all he could see – if it counted at all as seeing – was darkness. Briefly, his sleep-addled mind supplied him with memories of the other world, the blindness, the eternal darkness, the sacrifice—

In desperation, Ignis stumbled to the kitchen sink, splashing cold water over his face. It didn't diminish the pain, but it brought clarity and wakefulness. He was home, in his own time, with all of his senses. His flesh, once scoured by the power of the Ring, felt as if on fire, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see that there was nothing there.

The pain faded several days later. The dreams did not.

The second time Ignis dreamt of Noctis, he was alive and well, sitting on his reclaimed throne in the Citadel. Ignis's relief was so great that he didn't think to question it as he swept Noctis into his arms.

And there was the searing pain again, tormenting, cautioning, and he ignored because here was the sum of every wish he had ever had in his life, and Noctis's lips were on his, and he ignored every single warning bell in his head, and—

“Gotcha,” Noctis said. As he stepped back, he was suddenly the Accursed, laughing and laughing as the world faded into darkness.

Ignis woke with Ardyn's mad cackle ringing in his ears, shame and guilt drowning out the white-hot burn of the Ring's reminder.

The next dreams came frequently, each the same, each about Noctis. Ignis woke each night feeling as if engulfed in flames, his body and heart aching to fill the void that Noctis left.

Soon, he reminded himself. Soon, Noctis would be back.

(Soon, Noctis may be gone forever.)

It was a ring that saved him; ironic, when he thought about it. When the nights ran on and even the moon and the stars became shrouded in darkness, the pain from his scars grew to a crescendo, excruciating and unbearable even for him. He fought to keep steady every time he opened his eyes, the world seeming aswim in flames, but the orbit burned around his finger was ever more agonizing, teasing him with a reminder of power just beyond his reach, a reminder of the destiny that awaited the Chosen King. One night, groping on his bedside stand, his hand enclosed the ring Noctis had given him as a child, and the cool metal was as a balm on his scalded skin, the simple band giving him back a measure of control.

Ignis knew the moment Noctis returned from the Crystal, knew from the way light and magic flooded his veins, knew because the sudden relief from pain could be attributed to none other.

Knew in the way every fibre of his being resonated, like a compass needle pointing true north. After feeling lost for so long, the sense of direction was like a beacon in the storm.

Even with prescient memories, Ignis wasn't prepared for how startlingly different Noctis became, how mature and regal. Gone was the young prince he had to look after, in his place the King of Light, prophesied savior of the world.

And, heart aching with pride and terror, Ignis sent him to his final battle, alone.

“Ignis, don't worry about me,” Noctis said, before the door.

“How can I not?” the words burst from him, though he tried to keep them down. “You face the full might of the Accursed and the gods.”

Noctis grasped his hand and squeezed. “I won't lose. I promise.”

Ignis didn't put stock in promises. Having grown up in the royal court, he knew they were nothing more than empty words and pretty wishes.

And yet.

“Godspeed, my king.”

Ignis stepped back and bowed.

Believed.

 From a young age, Ignis was a heavy proponent of duty. Oaths and vows, words of promise, these were as sacred to him as the gods’ command. He never made them lightly, and expected them to be kept, not least of all from the people close to him. That was why he was rather confused when a twelve-year-old Noctis approached him one afternoon with a rather shocking proposal.

Or, to be more precise, a proposal.

“Noct!” Ignis hissed in a whisper, though they were in his room and there was no one else around. “You can’t say that.”

“Why not?”

Why not? Why not? Ignis stared at him, trying to figure out if this was all a joke. But, no – Noctis looked dead serious, a touch offended, a hint of hurt. Ignis was going to have to give a talking to whoever put this idea in his head.

“We can’t, Noct,” he said, more gently this time. “You’re a prince, and I’m only a servant, and a man besides. It would be a scandal! I’m sure your father would never allow—“

“Actually,” Noctis interrupted, “Dad told me to ask you. He said we don't have laws against that anymore, but 'only Ignis can decide whether to accept or not.'”

Of course he did. Ignis bit his tongue and resisted the urge to rub his temples. Okay, he was not going to give a talking to whoever put this idea in Noctis's head, as much as he'd like to. Still, just because the king joked – presumably – about it didn’t mean he actually endorsed the idea. He was probably counting on Ignis to have enough good sense to dissuade the impressionable prince.

Therein lay the problem. Good sense was one thing, and one that Ignis had plenty of, but a willing heart was another thing altogether.

“You’re too young for marriage,” Ignis said finally, holding up a hand to stop the arguments of “but so-and-so was younger.” “I’m not trying to patronize you, Noct. I just want you to make an informed decision. You’ll meet many people in the coming years, many of whom will be much more suited to you. When that time comes, I don’t…” He swallowed. “I don’t want to make you regret anything.”

Well. That came out a lot more melodramatic than he’d intended, and he didn’t even say anything he’d meant to say – namely, “no.” Still, Noctis looked thoughtful as he listened, though there was a stubborn set to his jaw that said he wasn’t going to simply let this go without a fight.

“Does that mean,” Noctis asked with a shrewdness that belied his innocent appearance, “you’ll marry me if I don’t change my mind later?”

There was an easy way to resolve it, Ignis knew; but just as he couldn’t say the word earlier, he couldn’t still. He had always, always been helpless against Noctis’s wishes. “If you don’t change your mind,” he heard himself saying. “And if His Majesty approves at that time.”

“Promise?” Noctis grinned, victory within grasp.

“Promise,” Ignis said solemnly, knowing his choice was made long ago, even if it may well lead to an unfortunate execution somewhere down the line. For the time being, he was alive, and Noctis was happy. He had never been good at denying the young prince anything, least of all himself.

“Oh yeah, Iggy,” Noctis said, breaking his thoughts. “I got this for you!”

It took a moment for Ignis to recognize the small object in Noctis’s hand. It was a ring, he realized, bringing to mind a memory from several years ago: a carnival, a ring, a promise. Judging by the shy smile on Noctis’s face, he wasn’t the only one who remembered.

Wasn’t the only one who knew the significance of a ring and a promise.

However, he was, it seemed, the only one who knew the significance of this particular ring.

“Noct…” Ignis tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, picked his words like steps in a minefield. “Is this the Ring of the Lucii?”

“Yeah!” Noctis answered brightly, a smug smile on his face. “Dad said I should give my fian… umm, my marrying person a special ring, and this is the most special one we have.”

Ignis couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry. It seemed almost an impossibility that Noctis of all people didn’t know what the ring did, but it was such an earnest, guileless reason, and it left him speechless.

Noctis stared at him expectantly. Ignis drew a long breath.

“Noct, only the king can wear the Ring of the Lucii. Anyone else would…” Die? He wasn’t sure, and couldn’t say that even if he were. “…be judged as unworthy.”

“Oh.” Surprisingly, Noctis seemed more perplexed than upset, for which Ignis was grateful, until he said, “But the queen can wear it too, right?”

“I suppose so.” There were historically Lucian queens, at least, though Ignis didn’t know the details. There would have to be some difference, he was sure, between those born into the royal family and those who married in, but he was no scholar of the ring, nor of genealogy.

“So you can wear it after you become my queen!” Noctis declared triumphantly.

Of course it would come back to that.

“We will… discuss it after that happens,” Ignis said gently, and received a nod in return. Good, Noctis should be older and wiser by then—if it happened at all, which it wouldn’t, he reminded himself. “For now, why don’t you return your father’s ring?”

“But...”

“I have this one, remember?” Maybe Noctis had forgotten, or maybe he'd thought Ignis had lost it by then, but the prince gave him the brightest smile when he pulled out their little carnival prize, now on a sturdier chain. “This is the most special ring, to me.”

There was going to be some explaining to the king soon, Ignis knew, but for now, crisis averted.

With the dawn came hope. Hope, and crushing fear. As the sun climbed over the Citadel, bathing it in gold, Ignis felt his heart pound in his chest. This was it, then, the moment of truth, when he would find out if everything he had done for the past ten years had been worth it. Suddenly, he wished he’d had more time, to research, to prepare, to test—

To stall.

Ten years, and he still remembered the Messenger’s visions: an empty throne, a shattered life; memories from a time that wasn’t this, a failure that wasn’t his.

“Hey, Iggy, you doing okay?”

Ignis glanced up, and there was Gladio looking concerned, and Prompto offering a hand. Friends who had stood beside him through darkness and light, friends to whom Noctis was as important as to him. He straightened and smiled with a confidence he didn’t feel. “Just a touch distracted, thank you. Shall we go greet our king?”

It was easy to tell himself that everything was all right, that Noctis was strong. It was much harder to convince his heart to believe it. Their plan had to work, it wasn’t just a failed gamble, Noctis must be alive, he promised.

What was a promise against the will of the gods?

The Citadel was silent as they walked through the halls, save for the echoes of their footfalls. No sounds of battle, no sounds of life.

The walk to the throne room took what felt like an eternity, step after laborious step moving them at a snail’s pace. Yet, when they reached the door, Ignis wasn’t sure he was ready for what lay beyond. Noctis, his king, his light, his everything, alive and well? Or his last ten years of hell coming to a head in a never-ending nightmare?

“Schrödinger’s Noct,” Ignis muttered under his breath.

Prompto gave him a confused look, but Gladio chuckled. “C’mon, Ig, have a little faith.”

“I never stopped having faith—“

The Shield shook his head. “In us. In yourself. You didn’t spend this entire time twiddling your thumbs. All the stuff we went through? That wasn’t for nothing.”

“Yeah!” Prompto chimed in. “I mean, when have you ever failed Noct? …Or, like, failed, ever, at all?”

When Insomnia went up in flames, Ignis wanted to answer. When Altissia was swept beneath the waves. When the Oracle died to protect Noctis in his place. When all that he had to give, even his very life, couldn’t pay the price to bring down the Accursed.

He bit his tongue. None of these were his fault, he knew. He had never failed Noctis, would never fail Noctis.

When the door opened, the tension from a decade of constant worry and anxiety drained from him, leaving Ignis on trembling legs. There was his king, slumped on the throne, dishevelled and exhausted, his clothes askew and his hair a bird’s nest, yet utterly regal and alive.

Ignis gave a deep bow, keeping his eyes on Noctis, a small part of him fearing him to be a mirage that would disappear if he so much as blinked. When he spoke, his voice came out as a choked whisper. “Your Majesty.”

“Hey, Ignis.” Noctis flashed him a tired smile, but there was triumph in his eyes. “I promised, didn't I?”

The restoration of Insomnia proceeded at an astonishing pace after the return of the dawn and of the King, though repairs on the the Citadel languished. When civilians and refugees came to the city in droves, Noctis ordered priority to be placed on residential areas and industries needed to support the new citizens.

It was sensible and generous, and Ignis heartily approved of the plan. However, that meant that instead of windows, he and Noctis often gazed out at the city below from the large gap left on the side of the throne room. It felt odd, sitting on the broken masonry, wind in their hair, a deadly drop a step past their feet.

It felt like home.

“Hey, Ignis,” Noctis said one afternoon, sitting at the aforementioned gap.

“Majesty?”

Noctis rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Ignis.”

“Apologies,” Ignis said, completely unapologetically. “I'm simply admiring your noble bearing.”

“Hah.” Noctis snorted, but couldn't hide his smile. “We've come far, haven't we?”

“Hm, well.” Ignis arched a brow. “I'd say we ended up right where we started, back to the home we grew up in.”

“Really, Ignis?” This time, Noctis laughed aloud. “You know what I mean. I can't... even believe it sometimes. Me, king. Over all these people.”

“You've come far indeed.”

“And I couldn't have done it without you.”

There was a shy, boyish look in Noctis's face as he edged closer, one hand closing around Ignis's. Ignis felt his heart skip a beat, and turned away to hide his flush.

“It was all of us—“

“Ignis.”

Ignis took a breath, gulped. He peeked back at Noctis, only to be trapped by the most intense stare he'd ever been subjected to. “Noct...”

“Everyone has done so much for me, but none more than you.” He held up a hand when Ignis tried to demur. “I need you to do one more thing for me.”

“Certainly.” This was going in a direction he didn't expect. “Anything you need.”

“You didn't even ask what it was,” Noctis said, amused.

“Well, I...”

“...made me a promise, when we were little.” There was a small smirk playing against Noctis's lips, a twinkle in his eyes.

Ah, yes. Ignis felt his breath catch, and he fought to keep his heart from giving him away. He mustered up every effort to keep his voice casual as he murmured, “Which one was that? You'll have to remind me. I made so many.”

“I once asked you something,” Noctis said slowly, every word deliberately enunciated, “and you told me we were too young. So I...” He took a long, shuddering breath, dropping to one knee before Ignis. “I haven't changed my mind. And I can assure you, His Majesty has no objections. So, Ignis Scientia, will you marry me?”

Ignis wondered, briefly, whose fate they had really changed, whose wishes they had really fulfilled. There was Noctis before him, offering him every dream he had ever dreamed, and all he had to say was—

“Yes.” It was irresponsible, he knew, but they'd both had enough of responsibility for a lifetime, carrying the fate of the world on their shoulders. And when had he ever been able to say no to Noctis?

“Hey Ignis,” Noctis murmured, after pulling him down into a kiss. “I was totally right, you know.”

“Mm? Assuming that I'd marry you?”

“That too, but, I said the queen could wear the Ring of the Lucii, didn't I?”

[punkrock-furiosa]

for the gaming asks: 8, 20, 23, 47, 63, 71?

Aaaah I saw you in my new followers list, hello! :D

8. The game with the best atmosphere/scenery?

This is a really difficult one, but I think I’m going to go with Morrowind. I first saw it when I was little (maybe eight or nine?) and I was amazed, because it looked so fairy-tale-like, magical and mysterious. I still remember the image of pink-grey mists and the sun setting behind the silhouetted pair of giant mushrooms, while a wolf howls in the distance and soft harp music plays. (There are no wolves in Morrowind, so I’m not sure what that was about. It sounded great, though.) I was enamoured with that world pretty much immediately and I still am. It made me an Elder Scrolls fan.

20. Favorite publisher and/or developer?

Bethesda, ‘cause I grew up on their TES games and their worlds I could get lost in (and they weren’t yet selling canvas bags then :D )

Bioware, for similar reasons - they made KotOR, Mass Effect and Dragon Age and I enjoyed all of them a lot

OBSIDIAN, which I actually discovered through their association with Bioware and Bethesda, and let me tell you nobody can create an insanely well-written yet improbably buggy game quite like Obsidian

I’ve grown really fond of Arkane too! I discovered them the year Dishonored 2 came out - everyone was excited and praising DH 1 so I decided to give it a try and I’m super glad I did.

Amanita Design, an indie studio that always seems to randomlyreappear on my radar with some beautiful adventure game (the picture below is a little white gnome and his dog on their home asteroid in Samorost 3)

23. Favorite genre of video game?

RPGs! But in a very broad sense of the word. If it has characters I can get attached to, some manner of a world and is for a single player, I’ll probably like it and think of it as an RPG. (Except for games that skew heavily towards strategy or roguelike. I get too impatient for the first, and too annoyed by uncertain results for the second.)

47. First person or Third person?

I prefer first person BUT with an optional third person mode, because 1) I’m vain and want to admire my character’s face and clothes 2) I need to know what my PC looks like to feel like I can properly associate with them.

63. What’s a game that has inspired you?

Edit: dear goodness this got really long somehow, sorry about that xD

I’m gonna single out two:

Knights of the Old Republic - It let me play a female character in freaking Star Wars. For my early teen self, that was big.

For one, the clothes look essentially the same on PC of either gender. No boobplates, no cleavages, nothing. (I suspect this was a matter of practicality during production, but that does’t diminish the effect it had.) For two, it allows you to be a world-wrecking revenge-seeking morally ambiguous and devastatingly charismatic millitary genius who can bring the whole universe to its knees if she wants to, and there was almost no gendered judgment attached to that narrative. Like. It blew my mind at that time that a woman could figure in such a story, especially without being presented as emotionally stunted, unhinged or power-hungry and needing to be punished.

My KotOR PC is my oldest and by far most detailed original character, because she honestly meant so much to me. (Which paradoxically means her OC page is almost permanently barren because there’s always too much I want to say about her so in the end I usually end up saying nothing.😅) I’m pretty sure this game was responsible for my love of fictional female leaders with questionable morality but an unrelenting dedication to their cause.

Planescape: Torment - This is one of those games where your party is formed out of traumatised and ostracised people with deep personal issues. I’m talking “I followed someone around as their helper for possibly centuries regardless of how awfully they treated me because I vaguely feel I may have wronged them in the past life,” kind of issues.You caused some of them. Your character has issues too.

But the thing is. You help these people heal - not completely, but enought so they can see a path forward. The “golden” ending for the whole game is basically your character deciding to stop running from whatever mistakes or hurt they caused in the world and accept the consequences of their actions - alongside whatever punishment that might entail. But there is a sense that not only is this necessary for any personal growth, but by accepting this, the good you caused in the world can stay too. The friends you made will remember you and stand by you if you wish them to. The world can be better because you were in it, even if you did things that were wrong.

The writing was amazing and the story hugely catharhic and motivational for me.

Also, on a much lighter side, I’ve never seen a game so lovingly describe what a really good pear tastes like. You don’t get any skill bonus or anything for buying it with your hard-earned in-game money, just a description of a really good pear. It’s awesome.

71. A game you can’t stop talking/thinking about at the moment?

Prey! It’s like Dishonored but you can actually creatively murder stuff without a semi-omniscient being scolding you about it! :D Honestly though, I got into it to tie me over before I can get a computer to run DH2, but I’ve quickly grown to love it as its own thing - which is impressive, since it’s also a horror and I don’t find being afraid very fun. Once the exam term is over, I intend to write a (hopefully helpful) guide for other easily scared people on how to deal with the terrifying bits without feeling too overwhelmed.

There are many cool things similar to Dishonored, but the whole story feels more character-focused, which really works for me. I’m really fond of most of the main cast (sometimes of them as people, sometimes for their writing) and many side characters I’ve never even properly met.* There are countless little found tape stories, the people around you feel alive - you get to know their day, their friends, their worries, moreso even than with the Heart. Plus since you collect info from various sources, you’ve got to piece everything together. Everyone has a different agenda, everyone is hiding something and so many things become clear only after the second or third playthough.

* (My faves are Morgan, Sarah Elazar, Alex and Rani Chaudhary.)

Also, especially the first third of the game has excellent pacing. Every time I felt like I might be getting a handle on the situation, the story or environment or gameplay threw something new at me to unbalance me. There are a myriad of tiny revelations, which works incredibly well because it didn’t matter much if I saw one coming, the next one would catch me unprepared (in a very good way).

Not the mention the amazing Arkane aesthetic. Never forget the amazing Akane aesthetic.

[musingsby-night]

Musings

Summary: In the wake of meeting his Soulmate, Thor muses on their new bond. 

This one is chapter 3 in a series of vignettes of Thor and his Soulmate attempting to navigate their new life together. Read chapter 1 here, and chapter 2 here !

Pairing: Thor x OC

Warnings: fluff city y’all 

Since the day that Thor’s Soulmark had formed on his arm, he had been utterly enamoured with the unknown woman. This mysterious Ellie Brookes, who was designed by fate to be his.

His Mother, Frigga, had sat her sons down one day and explained to them what their Soulmarks meant. Loki, ever the pessimist even at the tender age of nine, had loudly proclaimed that the entire Soulmate thing seemed altogether a bit droll. He had complained to his Mother that he had to have one at all; he said that he wished he did not have a Soulmark, that he was not interested in the mysterious woman who bore the name tattooed onto his flesh.

Thor and his brother were very different people. They had disagreed on many things over their long lives together, but never more so than on this. Thor simply could not understand his brothers utter disinterest, which persisted well into adulthood; since the day Thor’s own Soulmark had formed on his arm, it had been at the centre of his attention and the unknown woman had been at the centre of his universe.

Frigga had continued on to explain what they should expect when the time eventually came when they met their Soulmates. To feel not just yourself, but the presence of another just beneath your skin. To feel emotions at times that were not your own, to instinctively understand thoughts and knowledge that did not belong to you. To know and have ones Soulmate was, Frigga explained, to feel true peace.

…Eventually. The whole feeling-true-peace thing, apparently, would happen eventually.

To be brutally honest, the first few weeks of knowing ones Soulmate was borderline chaotic.

“The joining of two souls is no simple matter,” Frigga had told her sons seriously. “Until the point when you meet your Soulmates, your souls exist on their own. The second the two of you meet, your souls must stretch to accommodate the presence of the other. It’s not a comfortable experience.”

At the time, Thor had not fully understood.

Then, years later Thor had met Ellie Brookes during the battle of New York, and slowly he begun to understand exactly what his Mother had been trying to explain.

Thor didn’t really know what a soul was; he didn’t believe it to be a physical object, but in the weeks following his meeting with Ellie, he swore he could physically feel it deep inside of his chest, could feel his soul shifting to accommodate her own.

Thor knew that his Soulbond would settle soon enough (his Mother had assured him of this), but for the moment it just felt like a constant tightness deep in his chest. It felt as though a string had been coiled tightly around his organs, the other end of which was connected to Ellie, constantly pulling him in her direction.

Even when he was nowhere near Ellie, Thor swore that he could feel her. It felt strange, and a bit uncomfortable, but to feel Ellie was as natural as breathing.

The only time when the Soulbond felt truly calm was when he was in her presence. The further away he was, the more chaotic it felt- like the string was pulling tighter and tighter against him and causing a constant underlying feeling of strain. His body, his Soul, demanded to be close to her.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t always possible.

Ellie had told Thor that in Midgard, humans received a month of paid leave from work when they met their Soulmate. During this time their Soulbond was all over the place, making it hard for them to concentrate on anything, so Midgardian culture encouraged them to take time to allow their bond to settle.

Asgard had a similar rule. Six weeks unquestioned freedom from all roles and responsibilities, compensated by the King, to settle into their new Bond.

Thor, however, was not an ordinary Asgardian; he was the Prince. And as he quickly came to find out, his Soulmate was expected to be ranked second to his Princely duties.

After the destruction of the Bifrost two years ago, the nine realms had fallen into chaos without Odin’s armies to keep the peace. Groups of bandits capturing cities, armies leading campaigns to conquer planets…. Since the rebuilding of the Bifrost, Thor had been responsible for leading Asgard’s armed forces to restore the lost peace to the realms. These battles could forge on for weeks, if not months.

Then, when Thor wasn’t in another realm doing battle, his presence was demanded on Asgard to assist the Allfather to draw up new systems of rule in order to maintain the peace in the territories which Thor was winning back.

And then as if this wasn’t enough already, there was his pain in the goddamn ass brother who kept attempting to stage breakouts from his fucking prison cell. In between breakout attempts, Loki also kept encouraging riots among the rest of the prisoners as a form of personal entertainment.

To put it simply, Loki was (as per usual) being an enormous pain in Thor’s ass.

This was truly an awful time in Thor’s life. In all the hundreds of years he’d been alive, he’d never been so bogged down with responsibilities. And although Thor could never regret finally finding his Ellie, sometimes as he lay awake in his chambers in Asgard, billions of lightyears away from her and missing her so terribly his heart ached with it, he cursed the Fates for bringing her to him at the time when they did… at the time when he could never give her what she deserved.

Thor could acknowledge now that he’d always been a little bit naïve in how he thought about his Soulmate, prior to meeting her. In his head, Thor had always thought that his Soulmate would just fit into his life like a puzzle piece, slotting into place.

As it turns out, life didn’t really work like that. Ellie wasn’t an object for Thor to do with as he wished; she was a person, with her own life on Midgard. Just as he was a Prince, with his own responsibilities on Asgard and to the nine realms which needed to take priority right now.

Those were the facts, as Odin had presented them to him. Just because it was the truth though, didn’t mean Thor had to like it.

And he didn’t. He really didn’t. He just missed her. Missed her, and loved her, and Lord he just wanted her.

It had been 78 days exactly since the Battle of New York, since he had found his Ellie. And in that time, he’d only managed to spend a grand total of 22 days with her.

Those 22 days had been unarguably the brightest of his entire existence. Thor had been alive for 863 years, and yet nothing in his long life could compare to the joy his Soulmate brought to his days.

She was clever, his mortal. Odin, was she smart. She’d proven that on their fifth day together, three weeks after New York- a day which Thor was sure would remain forever one of his favourites with her.

Ellie had told Thor that she held a PhD in forensic archaeology and a second one in ancient mythology (which Thor was very impressed by when she explained to him what a PhD was, and the fact that it was irregular for a 24-year-old to be so qualified).

Her speciality? Norse mythology.

“Ever since I was a kid, I loved all the ancient myths,” she had confessed to him, her big blue eyes blinking up at him in the dim light. “I used to make my Mom and Dad read me the same stories, over and over again.”

She bit her lip, glancing down shyly. “There was one story I loved more than all the others. I was almost obsessed, I read it every single day, even when I got too old for those stories I couldn’t let it go,” she said, and Thor brought his fingers up to her chin, pushing her gaze back up to meet his.

“Which one was it?” he questioned, and she grinned rather cheekily.

“The story of the thunder God, Thor,” she revealed. “When my Soulmark manifested a few years later I thought it was the funniest coincidence.”

Thor hardly had words to respond to this. Ducking his head, Thor pressed his lips firmly against hers, and Ellie opened herself willingly to him. Threading his arms around her waist, Thor firmly clutched her hips and hoisted Ellie up onto his lap. Her surprise caused her mouth to open with a cry, and he took full advantage of her momentary surprise to press his tongue against hers.

He was completely overwhelmed with a need to be close to her, as close as he could possibly get. He wanted to merge his body with her own, to be so close that there was no longer any distinction between he and her. Before her Soulmark had appeared on her body, before she had ever even thought of him, her soul had been reaching out to him through the cosmos.

This was a thought which soothed him in his long days away from her.

But where she was clever, she matched it in toughness.

It wasn’t a brute physical strength like which Thor possessed, but a real strength of character. A conviction in herself which was rare, particularly among Midgardians. She’d shown this to him for the first time on their twelfth day together, six weeks after New York.

Thor had made a joking comment about her tiny stature (which he couldn’t exactly be blamed for- she was undeniably short, to the extent that it was almost possible to mistake her for a child from behind) and she’d verbally chewed him out so fiercely he’d been left well and truly apoogetic.

He’d watched her numerous times in their 22 days together fiercely stand up for herself and her beliefs to those who attempted to challenge them. Her ferocity in the battle of New York had been incredible to witness. Yes, despite her small stature, Thor’s Soulmate was quite the spitfire. 

But she was also kind, too. He saw that in her on their seventeenth day together, eight weeks after New York, when Thor had arrived to her home and found her busy feeding a lost baby bird with an eyedropper and settling the small feathered creature in a nest she had made herself.

Her kindness shone out from her every day, in the friendly way she addressed complete strangers, in the care she showed to her loved ones, in the helpfulness she displayed to others almost constantly. Ellie was far kinder and sweeter than he himself had ever been. 

Thor had dreamed of Ellie before he met her, pictured her in millions of different ways over the 863 years he’d waited for her, and yet the amalgamation of characteristics which made her exactly who and what she was were so lovely if he had had to wait a thousand more years to meet her, he still didn’t think his imagination would ever have come anywhere close to the real thing.

Every moment that he spent with her, he spent in awe of her.

And 22 days was not enough. She belonged to him, he deserved to have her every moment of every day, and more than once Thor had become so fed up with the distance that he’d come dangerously close to telling his Father that he was done, that he didn’t want the crown or the duties or the responsibilities, he just wanted her.

She missed him when he was gone, too. Missed him greatly, and wished beyond anything that he would stay with her. She would never say the words aloud though, remained careful to never once ask him to stay, and he silently had to thank her for that. She knew that it wasn’t fair to put that on him, and they both knew that the moment she spoke the words aloud, the moment she asked that of him, he’d never leave her side again.

If Ellie asked it of him, Thor would find a way to capture the moon and all the stars and present them to her as a gift. He was completely and utterly devoted to her, his fragile mortal Soulmate, and he would unquestionably do anything she wished of him. Even if that meant renouncing the throne of Asgard, renouncing his homeworld, and remaining forever with her here.

She knew the depth of his love, and so she dared not ask, could not ask it of him.

Thor was a Prince and God, responsible to his people and the nine realms his Father ruled. But Thor knew without any doubt in his mind that if it came down to it, he would trade his title, he would betray Asgard, and he would sacrifice every life in all the nine realms, all for the love of one single mortal girl.

[petyrbaealish]

My last promised prompt (save for one that isn’t part of my 300 Follower Celebration). Hope you like it!

For: My 300 Follower Celebration.

Prompt: By @janedethr -- “the Starks finding out about pxs in modern AU (can either be accidental or Sansa actually bringing Petyr home for dinner) lol I love your Starks dynamics in Chaos Theory so I KNOW you'll pull this off brilliantly!“

Notes: No smut this time, but I think you’ll like this regardless :). Also, both Petyr and Sansa are into geeky things like Star Wars, Doctor Who, etc and no one can tell me otherwise. After all, they both loved stories in canon. I think in modern au’s they’d be into fantasy and science fiction :D (even though Petyr would be less open about it later, try to repress that part of himself. Sansa would bring it back out though).

Tags: Petyr x Sansa

Title: This is How Wars Start

It was Saturday evening, just before dinnertime, the sky darkening with a wicked promise of events yet to come. The cool breeze slithered beneath the fallen leaves, stirring them from their neatly raked piles and into the streets and sidewalks, begging to be crunched under foot or tire. Riding along its current, one could just feel the magic hanging in the air, the scent of autumn and the tingle of excitement one always seemed to get during the holidays.

Sansa Stark no longer lived with her family, old enough to have a job and her own apartment, but tonight she returned to the place she would always call home, nerves fizzling with anticipation. It was Halloween, and the Starks had seen fit to host their annual party celebrating the occasion. Nearly everyone they knew had been invited, including many of her father’s coworkers, one of whom in particular she was excited to see.

Their relationship was still fairly new, only a few months in, and still thrilling to the core, though this was in part due to the fact that as of yet, it was still a secret. Petyr Baelish worked alongside her father at Robert Baratheon’s company, though his ties with her family extended much further. He’d once loved her mother, in fact, when they were both younger than Sansa was now, an affection that had earned him a fight with her father, and a trip to the hospital. Years later, he still bore the scar from that terrible night, though the bitterness had since faded, eclipsed by time and a new target for his heart.

Sansa had fallen for Petyr against her better judgement, irresistibly drawn to his playful smirk, the grey lining his temples that somehow only heightened his attractiveness, and the way she felt when he looked at her. When she’d started working as an intern in Robert’s company, it had been nearly impossible to stay away. Petyr was so easy to talk to, and he seemed, more than anyone, to recognize that she was more than just a pretty face.

After months of shameless flirting, inappropriate touching, and dancing around what they both wanted, they’d found themselves alone together at The Mockingbird (his club), when Sansa had lost both her friends and her phone and panicked. Ever mindful of the goings on his club (and of her), Petyr was at her side in an instant, drawing her back to his office to gain her bearings while he notified the staff to keep an eye out for her phone and the girls she had come in with. Both losses were soon forgotten, however, when they’d started kissing, desire spurring them on just shy of fucking on his desk (unfortunately, they’d been interrupted before then, a fact remedied the next day, when they’d finally gone on their first date).

She knew it was stupid and reckless, that he was nearly twice her age, old enough to be her father, and had once been in love with her mother, and yet somehow, none of that mattered. They were so alike, in so many ways, and they brought out both the best and worst in each other, their insatiable attraction for one another only fueling both aspects. Petyr made her feel so alive, powerful and dangerous, wicked and cunning, beautiful and wanted and loved. What they had was intoxicating, wonderful and perilous in equal measure. And she knew she’d never tire of it, nor would she want to. Every bliss had its price, and she’d happily pay it, to be in his arms.

Her parents hadn’t wanted to invite Petyr, but considering they’d invited the rest of the bigwigs in Robert’s company (her father, Ned, had grown up with Robert, and still considered the man to be like a brother to him. And of course, Ned wanted Robert at the party because of that), they’d had little choice but to. “He probably wouldn’t even show,” her mother, Cat, had reasoned. “I hardly think he’d be interested in coming to a family party, especially considering costumes are required.” Ned had been reassured by her words at the time, though he regretted it later when the RSVP card came back with the ‘yes’ box ticked. Of course, Sansa alone knew exactly why Petyr had decided to come. She’d asked him to, after all.

Of course, they couldn’t exactly spend a lot of time together at the party, considering no one knew they were dating, but Sansa was excited for him to come regardless. It would give them an excuse to be together, in public, and also help test the waters for when they eventually decided to come forward about their relationship. Not to mention, she would get to see him in costume, a perk she wasn’t about to pass up.

Petyr hadn’t been all too thrilled about the prospect of dressing up at first, but Sansa had promised him that it would be worth the effort. That, coupled with the fact that they’d chosen a costume that wasn’t too different from his usual attire, helped immensely. In the end, they’d decided on costumes that reflected their interests in Doctor Who. Not many knew it, but Petyr had grown up enamoured with the show, along with Star Wars and other geeky interests. As an adult, he still held a certain fondness for such things, helped along by Sansa’s mutual interests in fantasy and science fiction. It was one of the many things that endeared him to her, early on, the fact that both of them loved the worlds that fiction wove into their hearts, far better in fact than real life itself.

Sansa arrived a few hours earlier than the party was set to start, so that she might help her family set up. Trick or treaters were still prominent on the streets as she carefully navigated to the correct driveway, laughter ringing in the air as the costumed children went door to door in search of candy. The outside of the house was already decked out to the extreme in Halloween decor, fake tombstones littering the front lawn, along with dismembered skeletons and a body part or two. Lit jack o’ lanterns were perched on the steps leading up to the porch, and along the railings, flames flickering merrily in the night breeze, and fake bats swung from the ceiling, just waiting to tangle in her hair as she passed underneath.

Her younger brother Bran had his wheelchair parked by the steps, an enormous bowl of candy resting on his lap. His girlfriend, Meera Reed, was seated beside him, and they were both dressed, rather graphically, as frostbitten zombies. As Sansa made her way up the steps, one of the jack o’ lanterns burst into maniacal laughter, and she rolled her eyes, not startled in the least.

“You’d think Dad would get tired of that thing at some point,” she said cheerfully, snatching a twizzler from the candy bowl and ripping open the plastic.

“Not in this century,” Bran told her, looking equally exasperated. Clearly he was getting tired of the fake pumpkin cracking up every time a trick or treater ascended the steps.

“You could shut it off, you know,” Sansa said helpfully, ripping off a bit of her twizzler with her teeth.

“We tried,” Meera said sadly, unwrapping a Snickers. “Your father keeps popping outside to see how the kids react to it.”

“I’m going to find a way to get rid of it after tonight,” Bran said, looking determined.

Sansa laughed. “Good luck with that.” She reached out and ruffled his hair, laughing again when he scowled at her. “What,” she protested. “Zombies aren’t supposed to have such well coiffed hair.”

Bran was about to retort when the front door opened, revealing their father, who looked rather disappointed that it was only his daughter on the porch, and not another unfortunate victim of the cackling pumpkin. “Oh good, you’re here!” he said, pulling her into a hug. “Your mother will be thrilled. She could use some help in the kitchen.”

Ned had chosen to dress as a werewolf this year, and when Sansa joined her mother in the kitchen, she laughed when she saw that Cat had dressed as Little Red Riding Hood. Apparently they’d decided on a couple's’ costume this year. Cat was hard at work preparing all of the party food they’d decided to make this year, some treats designed with the holiday in mind, and others there simply for taste. Sansa set to work peeling grapes (eyeballs) for the bloodred chilled whipped cream salad they were meant for, a gory looking dessert, but one that tasted good nonetheless.

The rest of her family flitted about, cleaning and adding even more Halloween decorations to the ample horror inside. Arya was driving the rest of them nuts, sneaking about dressed like a ninja and wielding a wicked looking (but fake) blade, doing her best to take them unawares. Robb and his fiancee Jeyne were out in the backyard, tending to the fire, stringing up orange lights, and setting out chairs and tables, for anyone who wished to sit outside. They were dressed as the King and Queen of Hearts, having newly been engaged, and spent more time kissing than actually getting anything done.

About a half an hour before the party was set to start, Sansa’s cousin Jon, and his wife Ygritte arrived, both dressed as vikings. Sansa was relieved to have the extra help, since Cat had clearly gone overboard in meal planning this year, and they still had so much left to do. With Jon and Ygritte, and Rickon (dressed normally save for fake arrow through the head), who’d finally returned from goofing off with his friends (he’d claimed to be too old to trick or treat, but Sansa spied a sack full of candy tucked haphazardly in a corner) they managed to get everything done just in time.

Soon, the house was full to bursting, friends, family and coworkers mingling alike among the creepy decor, drinking smoking glassfuls of spiked (and regular) punch. Robert had come, costumeless and without his family (he was currently in the midst of a nasty divorce), though nobody commented on either. He spent much of the evening grumbling to anyone who would listen about his horrible wife, downing much of the punch on his own.

Ned manned the door the entire time, greeting each guest individually with a jovial howl and comments on their costumes. Sansa lingered nearby, nerves jangling as she waited for Petyr to arrive. A half an hour had already passed, and she was getting antsy, wondering if perhaps he’d decided against showing afterall.

She was just about to haul out her phone and text him, when someone knocked on the door and her father opened it, his giddy expression immediately fading into a frown. Sansa watched as Ned eyed the person she knew had to be Petyr, looking him up and down with distaste.

“I’m afraid you have to be wearing a costume to enter, Baelish,” her father said flatly.

“Oh, I am,” Petyr replied cheerfully, sidestepping Ned to slip inside. He was dressed as the Tenth Doctor, in one of his trademark suits (dark brown with blue pinstripes) and white Converse All-Star sneakers. As Sansa watched, he whipped out a pair of old fashioned 3D glasses, one lens blue and the other red, and popped them on, offering Ned a smirk. “Don’t tell me you don’t recognize me?”

Ned scowled as he studied Petyr, searching for some clue that would reveal the answer. Watching Petyr’s smirk grow, and sensing she’d better intervene before her father gave into the more animalistic instincts his costume suggested, Sansa darted forward with a grin. “Doctor!”

Petyr eyed her appreciatively, taking in her fitted TARDIS dress that left very little to the imagination. “Ah, so at least your daughter has good taste,” he drawled. “Sweetling, you’ll have to stay close by me. The Doctor should never go far without his TARDIS.”

Sansa laughed as her father’s frown deepened. Still grinning, she turned to Ned and explained, “Doctor Who, Dad. The show.”

Ned grunted. “I s’pose I’ll have to take your word for it. Though you could have put more effort into a costume.” He glared at Petyr again, then startled as more guests arrived.

In the commotion, Sansa slipped away, Petyr trailing behind her as she wove through the party. They stopped by the overflowing buffet table, chatting for a bit as they loaded up their plates, before they found seats along the room’s periphery. As they ate, they watched the other guests, commenting on their costumes, and guessing who some of the more elaborately costumed people might be. Another of her father’s coworkers (and Petyr’s), Varys, had come dressed as Cleopatra. Surprisingly, he looked absolutely stunning, turning more than a few heads in awe as he sipped his punch and talked to Robert’s brother Renly (dressed as a stag) and his boyfriend Loras (dressed as a rather flamboyantly attired knight).

When they’d finished eating, Sansa, who was having trouble resisting the urge to climb right into Petyr’s lap (he looked that good as Ten), got up and slipped out of the room, knowing he would follow her. Her first instinct was to head for the bathroom, but with so many people, it was bound to be occupied and or frequented, so instead she went for the hall closet. Though it was chilly enough to warrant a light jacket, no one had yet come wearing one, and she hoped that trend would continue, if indeed anyone else would be arriving.

The closet was larger than most typically were, with more than enough room for the both of them. Sansa pulled Petyr inside and shut the door carefully behind them, before flicking on the light. He stared at her for a moment, lips fixed in that smirk she loved so much, then reached over and switched the light back off.

“We’re more likely to be discovered, with the light on,” he explained. “It will filter through the crack at the bottom of the door, since the hall is dark.”

She nodded, biting her lip in anticipation. Gods, he looked good, even in those goofy glasses. So much like Ten, and so much like himself, and really, who could blame her for having so little self restraint? Sidling closer, she smoothed her hands up his chest, meeting his darkened gaze. “So, what did you think?”

“That I’ve never imagined the TARDIS could be so fuckable,” Petyr said, hands gripping her waist.

Sansa reached up and removed the 3D glasses, tucking them safely in his breast pocket. She licked her lips, then leaned in closer, her breath whispering against his ear. “Wanna go for a ride?”

He chuckled, the raspy sound shocking her to the core. “Are we roleplaying? Because I think you could do far better than that, sweetling.”

She pulled back, grinning. “Why don’t we put your sonic screwdriver to good use?”

Petyr’s hands slid over the curves of her ass, squeezing firmly as his eyes danced with amusement. “Will you take me out of space and time?”

Sansa nodded and dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. “I guarantee it.”

His gaze darkened and his lips crashed to hers, their tongue in cheek roleplay forgotten. Her fingers twined in his hair, tugging him closer and he pressed her back against the spare bit of wall between the coats and the door. Sansa felt her dress hiking up her thighs as she hitched one leg around his waist, drawing him closer still. The interplay of their tongues and lips were driving her mad, stirring her blood like nothing else, and yet still, she craved more, her hands scrabbling along his back before dropping to his waist, anxious for the feel of him inside her.

She was just undoing his belt when the door opened, the light from the hallway blinding as they wrenched apart. Her father was there, holding someone’s coat, features teaming with shock and the beginnings of barely repressed rage. Ned let out a strangled cry, a cross between a battle call and the despair of a dying animal, fists clenching as he twisted the coat between them. Petyr shot her a look of alarm, and made to hastily leave the closet, the better not to be cornered, but was blocked by her father before he could.

Trembling, Sansa met her father’s gaze, flinching at the disappointment she read there. Unable to stand the way he was looking at her, she turned away, biting her lip as she fought not to cry. She’d planned on revealing their relationship eventually, but not like this. Never like this. Beside her, Petyr turned as well, his look helpless as he saw how bothered she was by her father’s reaction. She could tell he wanted to comfort her, but refrained from doing so, not wanting to further enrage her father.

Behind them, Ned was taking loud, shallow breaths, and they could hear footsteps coming closer, obviously drawn by his outcry moments earlier. The party was quite loud, the chatter accompanied by Halloween themed music, but someone must have heard regardless.

“Ned?” Cat called. “Is something wrong.”

Dread filled Sansa’s heart. Oh gods. This was horrible. Halloween was certainly doing this moment justice, practically giving them a heart attack from the fear of the wrath of an angry werewolf and Little Red Riding Hood. All she’d wanted was a treat, and yet the damn holiday had given her a trick instead.

At this moment she really wished Petyr was the Doctor, that he could whisk them away on the TARDIS, far away from this moment. But life wasn’t so kind. It never was.

She heard the intake of breath as her mother spotted them in the closet, and inferred just what had been going on behind closed doors. This was it. They’d been caught. And now they’d have to face the music.

Sansa glanced sideways at Petyr and offered him a weak smile. He returned it, his hand twitching slightly beside her thigh, as though he’d meant to take her hand, but thought better of it. Knowing there really wasn’t any reason not to (after all, they’d just been caught doing far worse), she gratefully slipped her hand into his and they turned around, shuffling slightly awkwardly in the close quarters.

Her parents stared at them, both stone faced, eyes stormy with the rage boiling beneath. Sansa gulped and let out a shaky laugh, an awkward knee jerk reaction that she soon regretted when her father turned his gaze on her. “Surprise?” she offered weakly, casting her own gaze on the gleaming wooden floors of the hallway as she gripped Petyr’s hand in hopes of recovering stability in her mental faculties.

“How long?” Cat asked quietly, finally breaking the interminable silence.

“A few months,” Sansa said, still unable to lift her gaze.

Her father made a noise rather befitting of his costume and Sansa glanced up, startled. The fury in Ned’s countenance was building, and all of it was directed, not at her, but at Petyr. “What is wrong with you?” he snarled, taking a menacing step forward. “You couldn’t have Cat back when we were younger, so you chose to prey on her daughter? MY daughter?”

To his credit, Petyr didn’t quail under her father’s rage, though it might have been better for his health to do so. He met Ned’s gaze unflinchingly and when he spoke, his voice was calm and full of a confidence that helped soothe the anxiety fizzing in her veins. “My past affections for Cat have absolutely nothing to do with what I’ve found with Sansa.”

Ned snorted in disbelief, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Sansa might have fallen for such lies, but I know better,” he shot back through gritted teeth.

At that, Sansa felt her own anger flare. “Excuse me?” she demanded. “Are you really insinuating that I am incapable of taking care of myself? Of knowing when a man is lying to me just to get into my pants?”

Her father looked aghast, and not the least because she’d just basically admitted she wasn’t a virgin. He couldn’t seem to formulate a response, instead looking helplessly at his wife, who stepped in for his defense. “What he means, Sansa, is that sometimes there are things that blind us to the truth. It’s not a slight on your intelligence, but rather to point out that even the best of us can be fooled. You may believe him now, but your judgement is likely clouded by...by certain factors.” Cat spoke eloquently at first, then stumbled as she struggled with the concept that Sansa might either be attracted to or in love with Petyr (or both).

Sansa narrowed her eyes at her mother. “Go on, say it,” she goaded Cat. “Or do you honestly think that just because you never wanted him, that no one else could possibly do so?”

Cat gaped at her and Ned blanched, his skin turning blotchy as red and white fought for dominance, a war of anger and shame. Beside Sansa, Petyr twitched, just ever so slightly, and she turned to better assess his reaction, noting with disappointment that he’d managed to keep his emotions from filtering through as masterfully as ever. This would be easier if he wasn’t so unflappable. Misery might love company, but so did anger, and she’d have felt better and less self conscious to have him visibly furious beside her.

“We’re two consenting adults, and we’re dating,” Sansa said firmly. “End of story. If you disagree with my choices, that’s your prerogative, but don’t for a second think that your disapproval will stop this. If this is indeed a mistake, which it isn’t, then it’s my mistake to make.” She paused, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “For the record though, neither of you know Petyr. Not like I do. And not once has he ever treated me as anyone other than my own person. To suggest otherwise, reflects badly on me as well as on him. That someone would only want me because I remind them of someone else.”

Petyr squeezed her hand as she finished, a silent show of solidarity. Her parents just stood there, expressions dumbfounded, both apparently incapable of speech. Sansa bit her lip, then turned to Petyr. “Come outside with me?” she asked. “I could use a bit of fresh air.”

He nodded, and together they left the halfway, heading for the back door, her parents still unmoving behind them, like they were merely statues standing silent vigil rather than human beings capable of so much more. Emotions had a way of robbing you of your senses, and it seemed that her parents had been petrified by the severe influx. Who knew that the biggest fright they would receive that night was the revelation that Sansa was dating Petyr?

Outside, the bonfire was still flickering merrily, though unattended. Sansa briefly wondered where Robb and Jeyne were before deciding she was grateful enough not to pry. After the extreme embarrassment of the past few minutes, she craved privacy and the space to reflect on what had happened. They sat together on the cushioned wicker loveseat stationed near the fire, and Sansa stared into the flames, barely registering at first as Petyr began to rub her back. As he kneaded her tense muscles, however, she slowly relaxed into his touch, sighing as his hands untangled the knots in her mind as well as in her back.

“Well that could have gone better,” she said shakily.

“I thought it went rather well, all things considering,” he replied quietly. “You did beautifully, sweetling.”

She sighed and turned, curling her legs up under her as she slipped into his arms, burying her face in his neck. The steady pulse she found there helped further soothe her frayed nerves, until she found the will to speak again. “You didn’t say much.”

“No, I didn’t,” Petyr said. “It was your battle today, not mine. Anything I might have said would have gone against our favor, regardless of what it was. Your parents weren’t in any condition to hear reason from my lips.”

Sansa saw the sense in his words, though she still wished he could have said more. It had felt as though she was alone in fighting for their relationship in that moment, despite how silly that notion was. This wasn’t the last of her battles with her parents over Petyr. She had no intentions of ending things, and her parents would stubbornly persist in their opinions as long as they could. Certainly, she wouldn’t always be alone in defending what they had. Right?

As though he knew her train of thought, he continued, words reassuring. “I promise you, they won’t be gifted with this reprieve for long. Whenever it isn’t more prudent to keep quiet, I’ll defend our relationship with everything I have. While it’s no skin off my back if they don’t want us together, I know how much your family means to you. You won’t be truly happy until they finally come to terms with this. And for that, I will do what I can to make things better.”

Sansa raised her head, meeting his gaze as the full weight of his words settled over her skin, cloaking it in warmth. Heedless of the danger it might pose if her parents came out and saw them, she leaned in and kissed Petyr, her lips turning upwards at the contact, the corners of his mouth mirroring hers. How could she have ever doubted him, truly? With every word and action, he showed her how much he cared. This would be a war, far from the first started by forbidden love, but, as long as they were fighting together, they’d come out victorious.

[dancing-the-hellfire-rumba]

Masterlist

A good note to have in mind: The lower you go down the list, the more recent the fics (and since I’ve beem writing for a couple of years, the better the quality.) 

TL;DR: there’s better fics in the bottom. 

I’ve written for Supernatural and MCU (which is lower down the bottom bc it’s a recent thing.)

I deleted a couple fics from here ‘cause they were awful. If you’re looking for them (for SOME reason), you can still search them in my search bar. I just wouldn’t recommend them to people who have just found my writing.

Updated: 15/2/2021

Dating ____ Would Include

Bucky Barnes

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Supernatural:

Dean Winchester

- Mornin’ (fluff)  Lazy morning in the life of a hairy-faced Winchester. / Reader shaves Dean beard bc it’s domestic and cute.

- Impala Dreamer (fluff mostly) Reader is an insomniac. The rumble of the impala lulls her to sleep

- Intertwined (SUCH FLUFF) Dean’s a cuddler.

- Soldiers (angst) The Reader and the Winchesters had a crappy childhood.

- Focus. (fluff, very very light smut) Reader is focusing in different things than she probably should.

- For The Love Of Everything Holy (fluff, angst, bit of crack) Do you do requests? If so I would like to request dean with reader after dean comes back from purgatory. The reader helps him overcome it and he falls for her.

- Frozen (fluff) Of tickle fights and Christmas

- Comfortably Numb (angst/fluff) Dean’s cold, a bone-deep kind of cold he can’t seem to shake off. That is, until he meets her.

- Not Yet (fluff) Reader gets a separate room from the boys, but she fucked up and now she’s freezing to death. It’s not as bad though, because now she can share a bed with her crush. 

- And What A Sin Would That Be (fluffy fluffy fluff) Waking up with Dean :)

- There’s a Storm Coming Tonight (And It Will Put Up A fight) (angst/fluff) I mean, I’ve never had to reveal my real identity before, so I guess... Hi? Surprise? (Undercover AU)

- Little Brother (fluff) Reader is an FTM trans guy and he’s had a rough day. No real pairing here. 

- I'm Right Here (angst, TW: panic attack) I felt small. Wrapped in my oversized hoodie and baggy sweats, I wanted to cocoon myself in blankets and fall in a hole where I knew no one would find me. I felt out of my element, but not necessarily uncomfortable. Just… cold. I felt cold, like I wanted Dean to hug me instead of teaching me all of this.

- Cigarette Smoke (angst, fluff mostly) “You have that stupid smile on your face, again. Y/ n’s coming, isn’t she,” thirteen year-old Sammy states teasingly as he walks in the room with his hands in his pockets and Dean bites his lip to hold his smile from stretching further at the thought of her. “Sh-shut up.”   “Nice one. Very creative.”

- Little Miss Sweet Dreams TN (Fluff) Dean’s a Rockstar, singing about his best girl.

- Mark My Words (Something’s Gonna Change) (Apocalypse AU)  Part One  (discontinued, but maybe not forever idk)

- Something In The Works (fluff) Teenage AU. Drabble. 

- Table 14 (fluff. No. Fluffier than that. ) Cute moment between two diner employees. 

- Leather, Bit Of Whiskey And… Me (The fluffiest.) A soft and detailed Morning After.

- Dear Hannah, (fluff, angst,) When Dean, strapped to a bed, coughing up a storm, catches sight of his newly-adopted baby girl, he decides that, if he is to leave this world, he has to leave something behind for his favorite person. So he writes a booklet, trying to tell her all the things he would’ve if he was alive.  (Destiel)

Of Monsters And Men Masterlist (On Hold Indeffinitely)

Sam Winchester

- New Year’s Kiss (all the fluff) Self explenatory title, really.

- Strong Pickle-jar-opening man  (fluff) Sam is out on a hunt. Eager to hear him, the Reader calls him.

- A Permanent Hug (From You)  (fluff) Here, have my sweater, it’s cold out. 

- Sam. (fluff) No pairing. Brotherly cuteness. Includes puppies.

- Apartment 6B (fluff) There’s a fire in our appartment building, and I ran out like a bat out of hell, but now I’m standing in cold weather in barely my underwear, right next to you, a very cute neighbor. Fuck. 

- Moose (fluff) Secret Santa Christmas drabble :) - Cleopatra (AU, angst) Sam is a Taxi Driver, and the girl in the back seat reminds him of his ex girlfriend.

- The Chronicles Of Exhaustion (fluff) Sam comes back from a hunt and she’s passed out in an arm chair. Fluff ensues.

- The Little One (fluff, tiny bit of angst) She’s pregnant and Sam doesn’t know. Holy shit, what if his reaction is bad???

- If We Make It Or We Don’t (angst)  Sometimes people break up because of life. It’s a difficult thing to accept.

- Magic (fluff) Teenagers in love, sitting in a field (or a porch), reading their respective books. It feels a lot like magic. How very Hozier of them.

- Ain't It Dark Early? (fluff) Watching the sunset from a high vantage point. Life’s hectic, but she loves him and that’s what matters.

- Like Chardonnay, Get Better Over Time (fluff) Y/n finds the bunker empty on a random Wednesday night, and decides it's time to do some self care. Now, one would argue the primest form of self care is dancing, so she finds herself in the bunker, singing at the top of her lungs. However, the boys are back sooner than she thought...

- Sometimes I Fantasize About You Too (In The Daytime) (smut!) Half drunk and tired, but not wanting the night to end, Sam and Y/n stumble in her house. They share some more booze, but she is too great, and Sam is too enamoured with how stunning she is, how every way she moves is captivating to him. So he decides to close the distance between them. Detailed smut with feeeeelings.

- I See You Clearly Now (fluff) An impromptu all nighter and a very domestic day with Sam who is- he’s a crush, right? Right?

Multi Parts - Fall. (Completed)  Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3  Sam’s a tango dancer and instructor. She’s his student. Inevitably, she develops a crush. What now??

- When In College  Masterlist (Ongoing.)

-Seen (Ongoing) Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Jared Padalecki

Love Her (angsty)

TFW PREFERENCES

Touching you

Vulnerability

Rainy Days

Cooking / Baking

Marvel (Cinematic Universe)

Steve Rogers:

- Here Comes The Sun (fluff) I was so tired last night and just kind of kissed you, because I felt like it. It’s now the morning after. Do we go back to normal? I really don’t want to. Haha jk, unless..?

Chris Evans

- There’s Nothing More I’d Rather Do (fluff) After an exhausting day, the reader takes some me-time. But sometimes your me-time demands some company. Soft fluff. Enjoy!

- Tell Me Everything. (fluff) Reader works as a costume designer in Marvel. She's currently working on Endgame, designing the costumes for each superhero (but especially her favorite one), when Chris stops by. Later, he tries it on. Mutal pining goodness and fluff all

Bucky Barnes

- I’ll Tell You My Sins (So You Can Sharpen Your Knife) Reader hides important information about her past from both steve and Bucky, causing seriou damage to their relationships. When Bucky’ severely hurt and nearly dies, the Reader tries to finally do what’s right.