#goodnight :")))) sending little beams of warmth at us all

[forestofsprites]

i'm such a friend lover. i genuinely believe that my friends are the coolest funniest loveliest most ridiculously joyous people out there! im biased as hell!! i think theyre all rad! and the universe just so happened to slip all these beloved people into my orbit! and vice versa!! wtf!

[rustedhearts]

Shades of Cool (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!Fem reader)

summary: steve’s new ride inflates his ego (and anger).

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

warnings: angst, daddy issues, verbal argument (shocker), maybe a little shoving and manhandling, otherwise cutesy fluff :)

hawkins, indiana, november 15th 1989

Last week, Steve got a Harley.

He had a fight in Chicago, and you sprang to the phone the moment it shrilled at ten-thirty, knowing it meant the fight was over and Steve was on the other line.

"Hey, pretty girl," he mumbled through the phone.

You could tell from the low grumble of his voice—the way his words mushed together all souped up and unenunciated—that he'd taken too many hits to be coherent. But Steve continued to surprise everyone with his relentless stamina and easy energy.

"Hi, Stevie," you practically cooed, the rubber cord of the telephone coiling its way around your finger. "You win for me tonight, champ?"

Steve snickered into the receiver, a hoarse and half-coughed chuckle following suit. "Yeah. Yeah, baby, I won."

A burst of pride sparked through your chest, like it always did. No matter how many calls you got from Steve, announcing his inevitable victory in the ring, they never got old. You never got tired of hearing his delirious mumbling, of picturing the busted lip you could hear through his words. The sound of his voice graveling through the phone never failed to send cold shivers down your spine, and tingles through your nerves. You were always a giggly, grinning mess when you bid him goodnight.

"And...got a surprise t' show you 'morrow when I come home," Steve declared, and your heart hammered in your chest with impatience.

"Can't wait to see it."

What you hadn't expected was for Steve to come ripping down your street on a black Harley Cruiser. You straightened up from your place on the sofa, chin tucked over the back to watch the street for sightings of your bloody boxer. The bike came roaring to the curb of your front lawn, idling for a moment before Steve kicked the stand down and eased the engine off. You leapt to your knees, pushing the curtains further apart to watch with wide blown eyes as his leather-gloved hands rose to pull off the helmet.

A heap of chestnut locks flopped free from the helmet, billowing in the wind. Steve tucked the helmet in the crook of his arm, wrapped in the black leather of a thick jacket zipped to the collar. He turned, concealing any view of his ass from you—but then you could see him, in all his bruised and bloodied glory: fat lip, swollen cheekbone, busted brow bone. He slipped a pair of black shades over his eyes on his ascent toward the front porch, and you scrambled to your feet to beat him there.

Yanking the door open, you beamed in delight at the sight of Steve—looming tall in a pair of sturdy steel-toed boots and his new black leather attire.

"Hey, pretty girl," he drawled, cocking a lopsided grin.

You closed the gap between the two of you, mounting his firm figure in one bound. Arms wrapping around his neck, legs around his torso, nose burying its way into the pine-scented warmth of his neck. Steve steadied himself on the rail of your front steps with one hand, pressing the other against the small of your back with a grunt. Once he had steadied, Steve chuckled gruffly.

"Missed me?"

You sighed into his neck, pressing a desperate kiss to the underside of his jaw. "You have no idea."

Steve lowered his chin to hook over your shoulder, bridging the minuscule distance between you. His eyes pinched closed behind the darkened shades, a huff of air expelling from his nose.

"Me too."

♡ ♡

"So...I mean, I love it, don't get me wrong but...why the Harley?"

After a good forty-five minutes of a tight embrace on your front porch, the two of you wandered toward the curb to check out Steve's new toy. Steve crossed his arms, grinning down at the gleaming black hunk of metal and iron.

"Just a little celebratory gift to myself. Ready for a ride?"

Steve hopped off the curb, boots scuffing against the asphalt of the street as he rounded the bike. You paled, watching him open the back hatch and pull out a pink helmet, smaller than his with your initials in a pretty cursive font along the right side. He met you on the curb again, wiggling it in his hands.

"Come on," Steve cooed, a grin playing on his lips, "got 'er just for you, angel."

You pouted uneasily, reaching out for the straps, just for Steve to playfully bat at your hands until they fell back to your sides. He bumped his knuckles under your chin gently until it lifted, and the helmet found its way over your skull. It was heavy and thick, and your head felt like a bowling ball on a string when he snapped the buckles together under your jaw.

Steve's smile spread his mouth wide, hands tapping the sides of your helmet gently. "There. Beautiful, baby."

He planted a gentle peck on your pouting mouth and tugged you by the hand toward the bike. He mounted the leather seat, both feet planted on the ground as he patted the space behind him. You braced yourself on his shoulders as you stepped up onto the footrest and slung your leg over. Once you were seated, Steve reached for your hands, bringing them to rest against his stomach with your arms circled around his waist.

"Hold on tight, 'kay, baby?"

You squished your cheek against his shoulder, bobbing your heavy head.

"Not too fast please, Stevie," you squeaked.

"'Course not, angel."

The bike roared to life, and an involuntary squeal ripped from your throat, arms tightening around Steve's body. He tried not to groan from the way your elbows dug into his ribs and brushed against his bruises. Soreness dragged on him, but Steve was too excited to show you his new toy to bother taking a moment to rest. He gave the throttle a squeeze, and the air seeped from your lungs at the growl of the humming bike between your legs.

You hung onto Steve for dear life the entire way through Hawkins, barely catching a glimpse of streets and shops whizzing by, unable to pry your eyes open. When he slowed to a stop and parked on the curb, it took a moment for you to register the world stilling. Steve chuckled, rubbing his gloved hands along yours.

"Doin' okay, angel?"

You groaned, nodding despite the dizziness fogging your brain. "Mhm."

He gave you a moment to settle before prying your arms away, pushing off the bike to stand on the curb and unclip your helmet. When it came off, you immediately reached to smooth your hair and Steve cracked a smile, wrapping his hand around your jaw to squish your cheeks and angle your mouth to his will.

"Look beautiful, baby."

You burned at his affection, eyes fluttering closed again when he captured your mouth in a wet kiss. You whimpered against the swipe of his warm tongue on your lower lip and Steve chuckled.

"Come on, I'm starving."

♡ ♡

Now, you only had a few days together before Steve had to take off for another fight in Boston, and you'd been pouting about it since he got here. Steve did all he could, spending every spare moment giving his full attention to you. You accompanied him to the gym to train, then out to lunch and dinner after. You brought him home to lounge in your room, though your parents were against the idea of him spending the night. You went to his tiny apartment and spent hours tangled together in bed.

And he drove the bike everywhere you went. To the gym, to the library to pick you up, to your house, to every diner and restaurant you went to. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't noticed the certain air of cockiness riding the bike seemed to add to his demeanor. The way he smirked when eyes followed the pair of you floating away from it, the way he slung his arm around you like putting on a show after helping you off the bike.

Of course, the new addition to his image was attractive. In fact, you'd had a few dreams about him bending you over the leather seat with the engine revving (your fantasies weren't always the safest or most practical).

But for the past few days, Steve had been irritable, and you'd been pouty. The combination didn't mesh well.

The tiniest things sent Steve over the edge—he had a short temper, as you'd come to learn. While it was never directed at you, it still affected you. And when Steve was irritable, he drove fast. How fast he drove depended on how irritable he was feeling. He could go from fast to way-too-fucking-fast before you had a moment to catch your breath behind him.

And for your pouting...well, Steve was leaving again. You only just got him back, and you knew when he'd return in a few more days, he'd just have to leave again.

"Fuckin' Christ," Steve muttered around a cigarette, stomping ahead of you toward the bike parked in the lot of his apartment building.

You scurried to catch up, adjusting the strap of your purse over your shoulder as it slipped with speed. Your skirt ruffled in the wind, and you struggled to keep up and keep it down at the same time.

"Can't we take the car?" you huffed as you approached the bike, and Steve fished his lighter out of the pocket of his leather jacket to light the cig.

He mounted the bike, resting back as he replaced the lighter and sucked in a drag of smoke. The scowl on his mouth deepened, and his eyes slid over to you still standing in the parking lot.

"Why?" Steve pulled the cigarette away and blew the smoke toward the sky.

You shifted, adjusting your purse again. "I'm...I'm wearing a skirt, Steve."

He eyed the skirt, bringing the cigarette back to his mouth. "Yeah, so?"

You crossed your arms, a familiar pout finding its way to your face. Steve sighed at the sight of it, eyes rolling.

"Baby, come on," he groaned, hand coming to rest on the clutch.

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek, gazing wearily at the sleek, black Harley like at any moment, it would rev up and bite you like a jaguar on the prowl. Steve tapped his finger on the clutch and tossed his cigarette toward the pavement.

"You..." Your voice as small, hesitant.

Steve jerked his chin forward, brows raising. "I what?"

A pitiful whine left you, and you dropped your arms, shoulders slumping in defeat. "You...you're gonna get mad, and then you're gonna drive too fast."

Steve's brows dropped, knitting together and accompanying his deep frown.

"What? M' not mad. M' gonna be if you don't get on the fuckin' bike and I'm late—"

"—Steven," you cut him off sharply.

Steve instantly leapt off the bike, shuffling over to you with a heavy sigh. He took your hands where they dangled at your sides and gathered them between his palms. They came to press against his chest with his guidance.

"C'mere, baby," he grumbled. You stepped in close, peering at your hands embraced by his.

"M' not mad," Steve said, head shaking. "Why d' you think I'm gonna get mad?"

Your chest tightened a little, and nerves clawed their way up your spine. You didn't want to hurt his feelings. But if you didn't tell him, how would he ever know what he's doing wrong?

"You always get mad."

Steve softened greatly, bending at the neck to press a kiss to your forehead with another heavy sigh. His thumbs rubbed at your wrists, the tip of his nose making a soothing circle at your hairline.

"Jesus, angel, m' sorry. It's just been tough. It's this job, you know? It's...it's...—"

"—I get it," you interrupted again, tipping your head back to flash him a small smile.

He cocked his head. "You do?"

You nodded, perking up on your tiptoes to peck his mouth. "Course I do, Stevie. It's fine. Come on, let's take the bike."

Your hands slipped from his grasp, and he hooked his chin over his shoulder to watch you head toward the bike. Your skirt fluttered up and gave way to the backs of your thighs and the bite marks Steve left last night.

"You sure?"

You mounted the bike, gathering your helmet in your lap to unclip the buckles. You flashed him a dazzling smile—a smile so pretty that he couldn't see through it.

"I'm sure, baby."

♡ ♡

And you were right.

After four hours of training—where your ass went numb from sitting on the padded bench so long and your brain felt like mush from reading the same book you'd been trying to get through for a week—Steve stomped into the locker room with another scowl on his face.

You followed him in, book tucked behind your back, and eased against the cold metal of the lockers. Steve whipped his gloves into his duffel bag, clawing at the black wraps around his hands to undo them. You could practically see the steam radiating off his flushed, glossy skin. You could feel the thrum of his aggravation, could see it in the way his eyes hardened and lips thinned.

"You did great in there," you commented.

Steve didn't even look up. He balled his wraps up and shoved them into his bag, turning to yank open his locker for a change of clothes.

"Not great enough," he huffed.

You frowned, bringing your book to rest against your chest. Steve pulled a sweatshirt over his sticky skin. You knew he preferred to shower at home, where he could press you against the wall and rut into you without the off chance of someone listening through the wall. Steve never liked to share you, even in theory.

"Come on, Stevie, that's not true. You're too hard on yourself—"

"—I have to win," Steve snapped.

You flinched, jumping when the locker door slammed shut and rattled the row of them. He finally looked at you, though you preferred when he wasn't. His eyes were empty, glassed over with the familiar, stubborn haze they hold when Steve starts thinking too hard. When he beats himself up, and as he admitted a few weeks ago, starts hearing his father's voice in his head.

"Do you understand that? If I don't win, I go nowhere. I stay here, in this same shit-hole town I've always been in, and I go nowhere. I can't just be great, Libby. I have to be the best."

Steve slung his bag over his shoulder, brushing past you in a petulant stomp toward the door. You blinked at the empty air where he once stood, digesting his growled words. You didn't think Hawkins was so bad. You liked your small town life here. And you were here, weren't you?

Didn't that mean anything?

"See you tomorrow, Libby!" Big, the hulking, bald-headed man Steve called his coach waved to you from where he was wiping down the ring across the gym.

You waved back, barely mustering a pitiful grin to toss back at him as you followed Steve toward the exit.

"Y-Yeah, see you."

In the parking lot, Steve opened the hatch on the seat of the bike to shove his duffel in. You'd packed it neatly so it would bunch up small enough to fit this morning, and now that Steve had haphazardly thrown things in, it was too bulky for the compartment. You lingered on the curb as you watched him slam the hatch up and down, attempting to force it in.

"Steve, it's not gonna—"

He groaned, shoving himself away from the bike toward the wall of the gym beside you. In an instant, his hand darted out to punch it, and you gasped at the sharp crack that followed the impact of his skin against brick.

"Steve! What the hell?"

Steve's hands flew to his head, running through the length of his hair in exasperation. "Stop! Just...stop!"

He waved you off, wandering to the end of the sidewalk near the road. You watched him go for a moment, biting back tears. You knew he'd get angry, he always did—but why was he suddenly angry with you?

"Steve," you sighed, heels clicking in a hurry toward his pacing figure.

Cars moved at a glacial pace along the road, rotating between the town shops. You stopped behind Steve and placed your hand delicately on his shoulder, attempting to soothe his tense muscles despite your wobbling lower lip. Despite your chest feeling like it could cave in at any moment.

"Steve, I don't understand why you're so upset."

A snicker of laughter came spitting from Steve, and you recoiled back when he whirled around on his heel. He suddenly seemed so big.

"Of course you don't," he sneered. "Of course you don't get it. Why would you? You don't have people breathing down your fuckin' neck all the time, telling you: be better, be better, be better."

Each word came punctuated with a sharp smack of his knuckles against his palm, and you winced as he advanced with fury in his eyes. You took a skittered step back toward the gym, teeth sinking into your trembling lip.

"But w-why are you taking it on me?" you blubbered, tears stinging in your lash line.

Steve came to a stop, pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes. He shuddered out a sigh. "I'm sorry. I don't know, I'm sorry."

You smacked at the tears rolling down your cheeks, though the salty taste had already started seeping into your mouth.

"You don't know?"

Steve huffed sharply through his nose like a bull, ripping his hands away from his eyes to stomp toward the parking lot again. "No, I don't fuckin' know!"

You followed, tears turning hot with frustration.

"So I'm just supposed to take it? Huh?" You reached forward and shoved Steve's shoulder, but he kept going, hands balling into fists at his sides. "I'm supposed to let you drag me around and yell at me when you're feeling stressed out?"

Steve's boots kicked up gravel when he came to an abrupt stop, and your teeth clench together with a hardened glare that challenges his.

"I never fuckin' said that," Steve bit out.

You stood tall in your tiny checkered heels, stomping one involuntarily when you curled your fingers into fists. "You didn't have to!"

Steve's tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek, hands coming to sit on his hips as he tipped his head back. He scoffed, shaking his head to himself in disbelief—and that's what really did you in.

"You know what, Steve? Screw you."

Steve let his head fall back, settling his empty eyes on you. "Oh, screw me?"

"Yeah, screw you. You come home, you jerk me around, and then you leave. Then you come home again, jerk me around more, and leave again. And what do I get, Steve?"

Steve's nostrils flared with a tightening of his jaw, eyes bouncing around the flushed features of your contorted face. He'd never seen you so upset. Sure, you had a few spats over the past few months—but he'd never seen you yell like this. And deep down, he knew it was his fault. He was just too stubborn to admit it.

"What the fuck do you want from me, Libby—"

"—I want you to stop taking your shit out on me!"

Steve huffed, stomping the rest of the way toward his bike. You were right. Of course you were right. But you still just didn't understand.

You didn't understand that Steve spent every night alone in his hotel room, a hundred miles away and aching, wishing you were there. He slipped in bathtubs, too weak to stand with all the bruises on his abdomen, too dizzy to stand the steam. He got sick on more than one occasion before a fight on the off chance that he might lose, because if there's one thing that terrified Steve, it was failure.

He broke so many phones that Big started only half-jokingly suggesting Steve be put in a room without one, because Steve picked up the phone to call you but got too scared you wouldn't answer. He thought that the longer he was away, the better off you'd be. The longer you'd have to see how fucked up he was, the easier it'd be for you to leave him. He wasn't a good man, and sooner or later, you'd see that.

This job was the only thing Steve was good at, and if he wasn't the best, Steve felt like he was nothing.

"Steve," you sighed, watching his eyes dart around and his harshness crumble, "just...talk to me. Talk, not yell."

Steve shook his head, forcing himself to look away from your pink, swollen eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "I can't."

You frowned, wiping more tears away. "What? You can't?"

Steve shoved at his duffel still sticking out of the hatch until it could somewhat close before mounting the bike. He dipped into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out his sunglasses, sliding them over his aching eyes. All the yelling made him suddenly realize how terribly his head hurt.

"Get on the bike, baby," he ordered sternly. He kicked the stand up and brought the bike to both wheels, revving the engine with a twist of his hand around the handle.

You crossed your arms, sniffling nosily. He watched you jerk your chin up, defiance painted across your glossy face.

"No."

Steve glared at you through his shades. "Get on the fucking bike, Libby."

You dropped your arms. "No! I'm walking home, asshole."

To his surprise, you spun around and started stomping toward the road, every step coming with a bounce of your hair and flutter of your skirt. Steve hurriedly cut the engine and kicked the stand down, jogging to catch up with your brisk walk.

"Hey—hey! You're not fuckin' walking."

You yanked your arm from his hold the moment he grabbed you, but Steve was insistent. He wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back before you could reach the crosswalk. You pushed at his arm, but it was anchored around you, a barrier between you and your destination away from him.

"Steve, let go!"

He ignored you, and the more you pushed and pulled at his arm, the more Steve felt his defenses crumbling. Did you really want to get away from him that badly? Had he truly been that terrible? A tightness overwhelmed his stomach, clenching and squeezing like a sickness. Something stung his eyes and collected in his ears like an ache.

"Steve, let me g—hey! Put me down!"

The world turned upside down and your head spun when Steve suddenly threw you over his shoulder. But you gave up on your assault, any fight in you deflating just as Steve's did at the sudden realization of your very public fight. The tears returned in your eyes, stinging with salty warmth, and by the time Steve bent down to set you gently on the bike, they were starting to gather in your hairline.

Steve brushed your hair down with two heavy palms, swiping under your eyes to free them of tears with his thumbs. You sniffled, eyes fluttering shut at the firmness of his palms cradling your face.

"Please stop cryin', angel," he mumbled, his ordinary grumble morphing into a soft whine.

You sniffled again—a pathetic, pouting mess in his hands. Steve swooped down to press a kiss to your swollen lips. When your frown persisted, Steve kissed again. And again, and again, and again, until you were giggling snottily and pushing the heels of your palms against his shoulders. But the frown had been replaced with a halfway smile, and that was all that mattered to Steve. He pressed his thumb into the corner of your mouth.

Silence ensued. The whoosh of cars slugging by, the sporadic chirp of horns, and the distant chirp of birds were the only sounds that filled it. Your head tipped to lean into Steve's hold. His hands still smelled like sweat and leather. The bike was warm under your legs.

"I just get...I get so angry," Steve whispered.

Your eyes popped open, blinking up at him. "Why?"

Though he did his best to hide it, a pinched look passed over Steve's face. He slid his hand across your cheek and into your hair, urging it behind your ear.

"I don't know. 've always been like this, you know? Ever since I was a kid. Guess I know who I get it from."

Steve snickered, but you shook your head and brought your hand to cradle his against your face. You pressed a kiss to his wrist, stroking his forearm.

"No, Steve. You're nothing like your father."

Though he hadn't said it explicitly, you knew what the stories of Steve's father insinuated—he was abusive. He beat Steve for every minor inconvenience, and now Steve walked through life thinking everything he did was wrong. He always worried about being good. He always wanted to be good.

For a moment, Steve didn't know what to say. He certainly didn't believe you. Right now, he felt exactly like his father, who Steve watched from his bedroom doorway as he berated Steve's mother and made her burst into tears. He had his father's temper. He always did.

"Just talk to me, Stevie. I don't like when we yell," you told him, pressing another kiss to his wrist.

Steve leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. "I know. I know, baby. Me neither."

You sniffled, nudging your nose against his. Steve cracked a small smile at the affection.

"I guess I'm just...starting to feel the pressure," Steve sighed. "It's starting to feel like...this shit's real."

You nodded. "I know. I guess it's starting to scare me, too."

Steve's brows furrowed. "What, why?"

"I already barely get to see you. What's gonna happen when you make it big?"

Steve inhaled deeply, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks again. "Then you come with me. Wherever I go, you come, too."

You tipped your head back, meeting his eyes. "You wouldn't mind?"

Steve chuckled, pulling back to get a good look at you.

"Baby, are you crazy? I want you with me every second of the fuckin' day."

You giggled, head tipping toward your shoulder. Steve lunged forward and smacked an urgent kiss against your cheek, still sticky with tears.

"But...what about work? What about the library?" you mumbled.

Steve shook his head, pushing your head back in place with his hand. He pressed another kiss to your mouth. "We'll figure it out. No matter what, it's me and you, baby. Okay? Just me and you."

You reached up, a smile playing in your lips, and placed your hand against his cheek.

"Just me and you."

You had no idea what you were in for. Maybe if you did, you wouldn't have made that promise.

♡ ♡

[scarletttries]

Love Language (Steven Grant Request)

Pairing: Steven Grant (Moon Knight) x Reader

Rating: Explicit (Gender neutral pronouns throughout, but AFAB reader for smut purposes. As per this request the reader touches themselves in bed while Steven is asleep, so reader discretion advised on that topic)

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: "Huge fan of SG Wet Dreams but I also bring you: Steven being nervous about physicality and reader not wanting to push him but it's just a bit much laying next to him at night horny and how would he handle waking up to a reader pleasuring themselves 😶"

Author's Note: Bringing back my sweet boy Steven Grant for this exceptional request :) Thank you to everyone sending me these headcanons, I hope the months I take to reply are worth it 😄💞

Love Language (Steven Grant)

"It's only been a month, give him all the time he needs and he'll make a move eventually. I mean look at you, of course he will! But when he's ready and not before" You spoke firmly to your dressed up reflection in the mirrored wall, as the lift climbed to Steven's floor. Dating the gift shop employee had been the dreamiest month you could have imagined, his undivided attention and warmth filling your heart every time his eyes met yours. You could tell how much effort it had taken him just to ask you out in the first place, nervously wringing his hands as he stumbled his way through directions to a cafe he liked nearby, so the last thing you wanted to do was pressure the seemingly inexperienced sweetheart. After four dates, and a painfully slow walk back to your place, you had finally stared at his lips so unavoidably that he'd worked up the nerve to kiss you goodnight, giggling enthusiastically with every kiss you shared since. You were content to take things slow with Steven, respecting his boundaries and confident you were both in this for the long haul. However it's safe to say that while your brain had accepted that, your body didn't seem to get the message. With every sweet word, every gentle brush of his trembling fingers over your skin, every nuzzle of his nose against yours as he beamed after each kiss, you ached for him more and more. And the thought of spending the whole evening with your thighs pressed against each other on his little sofa sent electricity through your veins that was hard to ignore.

You took a deep breath before you knocked for his flat, reminding yourself again to let Steven set the pace, his comfort far more important than your stirring desires. The door sprung open the second your knuckles made contact with the wood, your sweet date hovering by the door from the moment you'd let him know you were leaving work.

"(Y/n)!" He cried excitedly, like he did every time he saw you, no matter how dates you'd been on together. His warm gaze fixed on your face, trying to notice every detail of it, even more entranced by your beauty that he'd been the first time he saw you across the museum. He stilled in the doorway, letting the butterflies inside him soar, already day-dreaming of a future where he was the man you came home to day after day.

"Hi Steven." You greeted gently, shuffling the bags in your arms a bit to snap him out of his trance.

"God sorry, I'm blocking the doorway like a numpty while you've got all those bags. Come in, let me take one of those." He scrambled out the way, shaking his head, and helping you set down the bags in your arms.

"Thank Steven, as much as I love taking the time to stare at you, they were a bit heavy." You joked, earning a almost manic laugh from him as he shook his head again, blood flushing his cheeks with colour,

"YOU staring at ME, yeah right, good one." He peered into the canvas bag as he settled it onto his kitchen counter, "What is all this love?"

"Well it's miserable outside, so I thought rather than go out I would cook for us?" You watched a sweet smile spread across Steven's face at your thoughtfulness, genuinely surprised by the seemingly endless kindness you held for him. As he watched you pull out ingredients and navigate his little kitchen his face faltered for a second,

"Oh god, i'm so sorry love, I don't know if I've told you but I'm vegan..." You laughed at his panicked expression, like he hadn't mentioned it at every dinner date for the last month, before smiling reassuringly,

"So is my ramen." Adding with a wink, "Maybe I should introduce the two of you." At that he let out another loud laugh, moving around the counter to situate himself right in front of you, timidly wrapping his arms around your neck, the soft wool of his jumper enveloping your shoulders as his lips found yours. His kiss landed softly, full of warmth, a smile fighting against his cheeks as you leant forward to let your chest settle against his.

"You really are perfect." He breathed-out absent-mindedly, more thinking aloud in the warming glow of your embrace than actively seeking to compliment you.

"I' don't know about perfect, but i'd settle for perfect for you." You replied sweetly, drinking in the loving light in Steven's eyes as he happily nodded at your comment, trying not to think about the warmth building in your lower belly as he hugged you closer. Steven stood in silence for a beat, just letting himself enjoy this moment, the kind of easy Friday night he had longed for his whole life now a regular fixture in his present and future. That seemed to trigger a follow-up thought for him because he jumped away from your touch, suddenly dashing around his flat like a man possessed.

"Are you okay, love?" You offered softly, less than concerned as you caught the beaming smile on his face as he rummaged through a satchel before turning around proudly thrusting his offering towards you.

"Yeah, sorry, I wanted to give you this before I forgot! You said you had a whiteboard at work you could decorate now, so I wanted to give you something from me to put on it! If you want to, obviously you don't have to, but I just thought..." He continued his nervous ramblings as you looked over his gift: a postcard from the museum with a collage of pictures from the ancient Egypt exhibit across the front. Turning it over delicately, already treasuring the simple gift, you could see Steven had carefully hand-written a note for you, in hieroglyphs.

"I love it Steven, of course I want to put it up. What does it say?" You beamed, watching his stare fall to his feet, hands wringing nervously like they had the first day you met.

"Well, uh, that's a secret love. One day I'll lend you my dictionary and you can find out. But I promise it's nice." He looked up proudly at the final word, a devotion in his transfixed gaze that made your heart flutter and thighs clench.

***

3:07. The glaring red light of the clock seemed to stare back at you as you struggled to return to the realm of sleep. It had been another perfect evening of respectful romance between you and Steven, ending in him spooning you in bed as you both settled into a cosy rest. But it seemed like today your body wanted more than you were willing to ask for of Steven, waking you with an almost uncomfortably warm feeling in your lower stomach. You stared at the ceiling, not daring to look at the man peacefully resting beside you, his arm still draped over your bare stomach, only adding to your sensitivity. Carefully sliding out from his grasp, you stepped out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen hoping a little space would calm your pounding heart.

It was there you saw the postcard, and decided on something you knew would calm you down: there was nothing less sexy than homework, right? Creeping across the wooden floors, you scanned each book with the torch on your phone until you found the dictionary you were looking for: hieroglyphs. Settling onto the floor you began flicking through, isolating symbols and making a note of each one you translated in your phone. You could feel your eyelids get heavier as you worked, relieved that this intense concentration seemed to be keeping your mind from wandering back to the warm, muscular figure asleep a few feet away. Between the dictionary and trawling through some online forums you could bet Steven was a moderator on, it didn't take you long to find the same string of symbols on a blog covering famous Egyptian love stories from centuries past. There you found the story of a poor egyptian peasant who won the love of a pharaoh's daughter and inscribed in stone for all eternity: "My heart belongs to you, I simply borrow every beat."

If you hadn't already been sat on the floor, you might have genuinely swooned. You allowed yourself a glance at Steven's peaceful form, moved by the way he saw himself next to you, his choice of story just as telling as the sweet words he wanted you to see from him day after day whenever you were apart. You moved as quietly as you could as you set the dictionary back in its place, smiling at the thought of Steven carefully writing this note with no translation, trying to keep the depths of his feelings hidden a little longer. With everything reset you eased yourself back into your place in bed, Steven's broad hand instinctively stretching across your stomach again.

It wasn't until your skin burned under his touch that you realised your little translation exercise had only deepened your aching need for him, his romantic gift making him somehow even more desirable. As you watched him breathe softly in his sleep, full lips slightly parted you couldn't help but picture how beautiful he'd look underneath as you rode him, his lips spilling moans instead of calm breaths. Your thighs rubbed together involuntarily as you stared at him, sighing in relief at the slight friction on your warming core. You knew at this point there was no way you were going to be able to sleep without calming yourself down, your heartbeat pulsing between your legs as your gaze drifted down his bare chest, picturing his awestruck face as you left a trail of kisses down it, teasing him before taking him deep in your throat. Your hand slipped into your shorts before you realised what you were doing, a jolt running up your spine the second it made contact with your throbbing clit. You had to fight not to jump at the contact, already so aroused as you dipped your middle finger slowly into your wet folds. You held your lower lip softly between your teeth as you moved, desperate not to make enough noise to wake Steven, pushing the shame out of your mind as you brought your now slick fingers to circle your clit delicately. Gaze fixed to Steven's stout fingers resting across your bare skin, just inches from where you really them, you thought about how good they'd feel pressing into you, stretching you out and getting you wet before he brought his hard manhood to slide into your centre. As your fingers brushed your sensitive bud in quick circles, you fantasised about the view of Steven on top of you, running his length teasingly between your aching folds, smiling gleefully as you told how much needed his cock, his mouth, his fingers, any of him, begging him to fill you up.

As your eyelids fluttered shut, imagination full of the handsome man beside you, you missed his eyes cracking open slightly, before shooting wide as he watched you.

Steven could feel the slight tremble of your thighs against the bed, initially worried you were having a nightmare, but now wondering if he was in a dream of his own. He held his breath as he watched your fingers work, not wanting to disrupt, his angle letting him see down your shorts to the glistening mess you had worked yourself up into. He thought about shutting his eyes again, feeling like a pervert for wanting nothing more than to let his hand join yours, giving you what he hoped would be a very pleasant surprise. Steven had found himself in a similar position at the end of a lot of your dates, failing to take your physical relationship a step further despite building himself up to it night after night. So usually it was him laying in this bed, fisting himself to the thought of what could have happened if he had just been able to touch you.

"Steven." You moaned absent-mindedly, your mind so clouded by thoughts of him you hadn't noticed your mouth fall open. But Steven had, the noise snapping him back into the moment as he watched your tongue trace across your slightly bitten lip, your chest rising and falling as your pace quickened. He thought about all the moments and opportunities he'd missed to give you bring you to this point of ecstasy himself, and took a deep breath, deciding if he couldn't say something now, the moment might never come.

"Do you want some help with that love?" His voice cut through the quiet dark of the room, and you snapped your eyes open, quickly withdrawing your hand, cursing the involuntary whimper you let out as the loss of contact as you spoke,

"Steven, I'm so sorry! I just couldn't sleep, and I couldn't stop thinking about you. Oh god that probably makes it worse!" The words came out with a tremble as you clasped your hands over your eyes, too mortified to meet his good-natured gaze. You only gave yourself permission to look again when you felt his hand snaking up your inner thigh, tracing small circles into the soft flesh.

"You don't have to be sorry sweetheart, I'm bloody flattered actually! And, I've done the same thing after you've left before, I guess I just didn't think someone as stunning as you would really feel that way about silly old me." Your breath seemed stuck in your chest as you stared deeply into his excited gaze, feeling your legs twitch as his fingers crept higher and higher. You could see him gulp as he reached the edge of your underwear, steadying himself before he spoke,

"I could help if you want, give you a hand...so to speak." His brow furrowed as if unsatisfied with his unpracticed attempts at flirting, "I'd like to touch you, if that's something you want, otherwise I can.."

"I want you to touch me Steven." You breathed out before he could pull his hand away, eyes wide and tone pleading, in a moment that felt like heaven on earth to your excited boyfriend. He grinned and nodded as he slipped his hand into your underwear, moving painfully slowly as if you might change your mind at any second. As his thumb brushed over your wet folds a high pitched sigh left your lips, relief at being touched against coursing through your veins. Steven could feel your stomach tense at his touch, your hips bucking slightly against his hand as he found your clit, brushing over it in soft strokes as his confidence grew. Resting his thumb over your pulsing bud, he slowly slipped one finger inside you, fighting to keep his eyes open so he could watch your wanting reaction as he fought back his own growing excitement, having dreamt of this moment since the first time you'd spent the night. He gave you a few leisurely thrusts and withdraws of his finger, before adding a second one, the feeling of fullness tightening the pressure that had been building inside you all night. His hand worked your entrance as he watched your every reaction to his movements, the combination of his steady rhythm and your growing wetness making every touch feel like silky perfection. Your chest rose and fell at his whim, your nipples hard through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, calling to Steven as he could feel his own hips bucking against your trembling thighs, which occasionally clenched around his hand as your excitement built. He could feel himself straining against the fabric of his pyjamas, his aching, hard, length starting to leak his own excitement as it searched for contact.

As your climax drew closer your fingers threaded through his hair, pulling his lips to yours, barely stifling the latest moan his smooth touch drew from your lips. Eager to feel more of your body, Steven swung his leg over you, moving on top and groaning in your mouth as he felt his throbbing erection rub between your thighs. His fingers kept their steady pace, curling inside you and rubbing your almost overstimulated button, as his tongue hungrily explored your mouth. As you felt the pressure of his dick grinding just below his hand you cried out his name, arching your back to meet him as you felt yourself start to come undone,

"Steven! Fuck, you feel so good." You could feel him moan against your neck as his lips descended lower, his hips trembling at the almost sinful way you cried his name.

"I love the way you say my name love, you sound so good like this."

"You're so good Steven, so gorgeous, so good to me" You continued to praise as his face found your chest, nudging your t-shirt higher with his nose until more of you was exposed for him. He kissed sloppily over your chest, nipping and sucking at the soft skin before letting his tongue trace over your nipple, feeling your walls tighten around his fingers, the volume of your praising words climbing and climbing until they erupted into a single call of his name. You could feel yourself gush around his fingers as your thighs twitched, the teasing lick of his tongue sending you over your long anticipated edge, your whole body writhing under his as the waves of pleasure washed over you. Your head fell back as the pressure inside you finally started to dissipate, overwhelmed by the satisfied feeling of finally having had the man you love pleasure you, and how hard you came at his touch. In the haze of your bliss you could feel his fingers still working you through your orgasm until, with a harsh thrust of his hips and deep groan against your chest, he finally stilled between your legs.

With a soft grip of his hair you brought his lips back to yours for an eager kiss, before sighing out contently, "That was amazing Steven, thank you." He beamed with pride at your words, hoping that meant you'd call on his services again soon, knowing he'd be confident enough to touch any way he wanted on your next date. Planting another soft kiss on his face, you played gently with the hair at the nape of his neck as you gave your hips a soft circle against his,

"If you want I could, return the favour." You spoke softly, taking his bottom lips gently between your teeth only to be met with a laugh that burst through his lips on its own,

"Sorry (Y/n), It's just, uh, a bit too late for that." Your brow furrowed until you realised the slick spread across your shorts wasn't only your own. Even in the darkness Steven's face glowed red at his excitable reaction, watching the dawning realisation spread across face in a slight smile,

"Next time then. Whenever we next wake up." You replied with a quick peck, guiding Steven to lie next to you so you could curl up on his chest, relieved to be less conscious of touching him, and stifling a laugh at the way he nodded happily and glanced back the the red glow of the clock, willing morning to come sooner.

[hwanchaesong]

hi! from your song prompts, i was wondering if you could please do yunho and good evening by shinee please? fluff (maybe slightly suggestive?) please?

the song is listed as good night but shinee doesn’t have a song called goodnight so i’m assuming you meant good evening 😣

a/n: omg you're right 😭 my melted brain wrote night instead of evening goshh, thank you for the correction 🥹 and also tysm for requesting again~ 💚

👤: ATEEZ Jeong Yunho

📼: Good Evening - SHINEE

genre & warnings: fluffy, suggestive, sprinkle of angst

word count: 506

for anyone who wants to, don't be shy and send me asks based on Prompts Request Song Version. Thank you so much!

"I miss you."

Those three words from you made Yunho rush to wherever you are.

Moon up high in the sky, stars shining brightly against the darkness, they were the audience to the impending passionate night that is about to ensue once you open the door for Yunho to enter.

You didn't know what got into you, all you can think of is him.

Watching the sun set, you wished for him to be beside you, holding you close and feeling his warmth seep into your skin.

You did not expect him to show up in front of your house though, knocking furiously on your door and calling your name loudly.

"Y/N! Open up!"

You went down quickly, opening the door and before you can even ask him why he's here, he cupped your face and kissed you fiercely.

He backed you up on a wall, "I'm sorry but, let's save the talk for later, shall we?" he breathed and in your dazed state, the only thing that you could do was nod.

Like a marathon, his breathing got rougher, pace getting faster, and each time he hits a sweet spot of yours, the closer utopia is within your reach.

Exhaustion settled down on your bodies after the intense session, but the talk is more important than sleep.

"So, what are we?" you asked, humming when his hands ran through your hair fondly, immediately soothing your tired muscles.

"What do you want us to be?" he quipped back and you raised your head a little, looking at him hopefully.

What kind of relationship would you want to have with him?

Friends?

Undecided?

Boyfriend?

If you told him that you'll gladly put your heart in his hands, will he accept it and give his to you as well?

What would you get after all this?

Happiness?

Pain?

As you keep on thinking about what to reply to his question, him on the other hand stares at you like you hung the stars in the heavens for him to gaze at.

You are such a work of art, your eyes, nose, lips, everything about you is perfect and he couldn't wait to call you as his.

"Maybe we should-"

"We should date."

You were dumbfounded to say the least. His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer to him.

He nuzzled his nose against the crown of your head, making you smile giddily.

A start of something new in your story. Sunshine and rainbows in your hearts despite the rain drizzling outside, droplets of water pelting on your windows.

"I like the sound of that." you said, beaming at him and he personally felt his world change the moment you gave him the affirmation that he was anxiously waiting for.

"That's great, girlfriend." he chuckled, butterflies in your stomach erupting because of his petname.

"Let's sleep you, doofus."

He pouted, "I called you my girlfriend and that is how you repay me?"

"Shut up!" you hit his chest weakly, cuddling unto him further, "I say goodnight, boyfriend."

[bluesky88diary]

A prayer like fragrant incense is rising from my heart to the sky.  Silent words about woman who burns in my heart like sunset in ardent beams of sun. I send you another goodnight kiss, one more hug of our warmth with hope this love will give you enough energy to live and move on. Step it up and even more, how much I wish to say 안녕하세요 사랑하는 승연짱, kiss your hand like me lady, feel your touch, tell you about all the sky I see in your eyes, holding you to stay, make a step together walking down the river Seine under stellar sky. And this might be the most happy time I can dream about, to surround you with love and care. Merely be together and make a step to each other, for one special goodnight kiss on Christmas Eve that will last in our hearts forever uniting us with song of love. I will wait for you, my dear 승연, with open heart and sincere love, perhaps like kids waiting for a miracle to come in their homes, families and to beloved one. I wait for only you, my love. 

...

Didn't write much because my friend was too happy to see me, we were talking most of the time sharing stories and bread. My heart was moved by his hospitality and now I'm moving on with a bit of sadness and wish to meet again. There I left my bicycle... yeah I have to move on, because you are more precious for me than adventure. Thus instead bought big backpack and went on more secure way, leaving all behind and don't turn back. It feels like I left there a little of my heart with bike, which was carrying me to many places I wish to go. Can Puri and Nubi carry you too? Maybe on Christmas they all of a sudden turn in fairy-puppies for you ^ ^, Godspeed for us to see miracles again.

[startanewdream]

Hi Mah, could you write something about Jily in a world where Voldemort doesn't exist? Or, Jily + baby Harry.

If you don't want to, it's okay! Thanks ❤️

Sorry for taking so long! Hope this brightens your day with Lily watching Harry growing up and so not ready for it (no Voldemort mentioned as requested). Based on a real conversation I heard yesterday!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time she hears it, Lily thinks she was mistaken.

“What, Harry?” she asks, feeling a strange weight on her chest.

He turns to her again, an innocent smile on his lips. “Can I have another cup of chocolate, Mum?”

Yeah, she heard it right the first time. And it’s as bad as she thought. Mum.

She looks at her son, really stares at him trying to understand what’s prompting this difference in his treatment of her. It doesn’t look as if anything has changed from yesterday. Harry still looks like her six-year-old son, a few weeks away from turning seven, average height for his age, with a face that’s becoming more and more like his father everyday, shining green eyes behind the round-glasses he wears.

He doesn’t look any older than he is, no sudden spurge, no change at all, and yet he has called her Mum.

Not Mama.

“Sure, Harry,” she says slowly. “Mama will prepare for you, okay?”

“Thanks, Mum.”

Mum. Well, she reasons to herself as she warms the milk, it’s better than “mother”, that exaggerated formality that she has heard in other circles and that’s not at all how she and James wanted to raise Harry.

And, well, she couldn’t expect that Harry would call her “Mama” all his life. It is a childish call and Harry is not… is not a child anymore?

No, he is just six. Not her baby anymore, she can accept that. After all, Harry already manages most of his routine by himself; he wakes up alone to go to school—he goes to school—, he remembers to brush his teeth at night, he helps her take care of their garden and all. He is a fine little kid.

Not so little anymore. Soon not even a kid. Merlin, how fast has he grown up?

“Mum?”

Lily blinks, turning off the stove in time to just avoid the milk to spill. Her hands are shaking as she finishes the chocolate, offering it to him. Harry smiles at her in thanks, drinking the chocolate despite the warmth—like her, he prefers his food always hot—and giving himself a mustache in the process.

“Hey.” She grins at him, using the back of her hand to clean his face before he can use a napkin. Lily doesn’t think she is ready for that display of maturity from her son.

“It’s good,” he says gladly, swinging his feet in the chair, still unable to reach the ground. Then he jumps out of the chair. “Can I play outside now?”

“Sure,” she says and, for good measure, she messes with his hair. Harry giggles, but a part of Lily just waits for the day her son will go all teenager and complain about this caring gesture, will move away from her touch. “Leave the cup in the sink.”

Harry nods. He has to stay on his tiptoe to reach the stove and this also warms Lily a little. He isn’t that old yet.

She watches him play outside all day, debating with herself when he will stop having patience to play with his figure toys, his imagination. When he will ask for a real professional broomstick, or when he will be able to actually ride it; when he won’t have time anymore for his old mum, so grown-up and unlikely that baby she held in her arms, that reached for her with plump arms crying happily for his “Mama”...

“What is bugging you?” James asks, coming to her side and placing his arm around her waist. Lily lays her head over his shoulder.

“Harry is growing up.”

“Well, fawns grow into stags,” he says reasonably. “But there is still time.”

Lily sighs. She supposes James is right, but then she thinks she barely saw the last seven years going by. What if she blinks and then he is taller, no baby fatness in him anymore, having no time for his mum?

“He is just so cute like this,” she whispers. She still can hold him in his arms after all. There is a strange desire to freeze him as he is. “But soon he will be going to Hogwarts—we’ll have to go to Diagon Alley and buy his stuff and he’ll already be old enough to have a wand—”

“Oh, I can’t wait for all the Hogwarts letters telling me about his detentions,” James says, grinning. “Hope it’s big enough for a Howler, my parents never send me one.”

“That’s because Monty and Mia pampered you.”

“Well, there’s that.” He laughs. “Or maybe he will be a good student like you. No detention. Prefect even.”

“Nah, Sirius influences him too much.” She bites her lip. “We raised him well, right?”

“We still do,” James notes. “What has caused this?”

Lily flushes. “He called me ‘Mum’”.

James blinks. “You wanted him to call you ‘Lily’?”

“No, it’s just… he used to call me Mama. You know.”

“He calls me Dad,” James shrugs, unconcerned. “I think it’s normal? The other kids in school call for their mum, not mama. He is just trying to not sound too childish.”

“I know.” Lily sighs heavily. “It doesn’t make it any easier.”

James kisses her forehead tenderly.

Later that night, Lily goes to Harry’s room to tuck him in for the night. Harry accepts it without complaint, but when she looks around, she realizes his plushies aren’t there anymore.

“Where’s Godric, Harry?” she asks, thinking of the old lion plush that was his favourite. Harry shrugs.

“In the trunk.”

“Oh.” She pauses, collecting her thoughts. “You used to love sleeping with him.”

“I can sleep alone, Mum,” he answers as if she is being silly. Oh, dear.

“Yeah, you can.” She kisses his cheek and is glad when Harry doesn’t grimace; Lily doesn’t think she is ready for her son to reject a bit of motherly attention. “You are my brave cub lion on your own.”

He giggles. It’s a pure sound, happy and so childish, that she feels a strange relief with it. He is growing up, but maybe this will be slow. She hopes she can enjoy every second of it.

Lily caresses his hair until Harry’s eyes start to close, his expression easing even more, then she stands up.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

He rolls in the bed, almost sleeping already. “Goodnight, Mama.”

She pretends his slip doesn’t make her beam all night.

[dumbikawa]

Taking Care of the HQ Boys

GN!Reader | Fluff | Warnings: None

Characters: Suna, Kuroo, Iwaizumi

A/n: I’m such a simp for these boys it’s insane

SUNA

It took Suna a while to get used to the way you never held back when it came to taking care of him. One night, after a particularly rough practice, he’d sluggishly entered the apartment and practically collapsed on top of where you were laying on the couch. Wordlessly, you positioned yourself so that he was resting on your lap with both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. It was comfortably silent as you ran your fingers through his hair that was still slightly damp from showering at the gym and in no time at all he was softly snoring.

He'd never admit it aloud, but he loved when you took care of him in little ways like that. From the start, he had always insisted on being the big spoon, obsessed with the way your body perfectly molded against his and the satisfaction of knowing you felt safe in his arms. Ever since that night, though, it became a regular thing for you to see him standing, looking at you like a pouty child, from the corner of your eye waiting for you to take the hint that he wanted you to cuddle him. You'd simply open your arms for him to crawl into without even having to look up from your phone.

Today was no exception.

Suna can feel the physical exhaustion down to his bones as he allows the cool water to wash away the sweat and grime he collected over the course of practice. Mentally he feels the same; completely drained in every sense of the word. He can’t even find the energy to thoroughly dry his hair, opting to quickly rub it with a towel before making his way to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed.

“Rin!” you gently scold, placing the book you’d been reading beside you on the bed. “You’re going to ruin your pillow.”

“I don’t care,” he mumbles, eyes remaining shut as he lets out a content sigh. He did care, actually, but his decision was already made and now that he was in bed there was no way he was getting up. He truly meant that, but when he feels you tugging at his hand for him to get up he begrudgingly obliges.

You’re holding your hair dryer and gesturing for him to sit on the floor. It doesn’t seem wise to disobey when you look so determined, so he slides off the bed, giving you full access to his sopping mess of hair.

His eyes flutter closed as the warmth from the hairdryer and the way your fingers are skillfully brushing through his hair begins to pull him towards sleep. Not to mention, in this position he has the perfect opportunity to use your thigh as a pillow and he makes a mental note to have you dry his hair more often. But, sadly, the flow of warm air shuts off and your voice pulls him back to the present.

“C’mon you big baby,” you laugh, watching him groan and throw himself back up on the bed. He shimmies under the covers, but refuses to place his head back on the damp pillow. Instead, he stares at you with sleepy eyes until you’ve positioned yourself so that you can sit comfortably and open your arms for him.

His arms automatically snake around your waist as he buries his head in your side.

“Do I do enough to take care of you?” he asks softly, turning to look up at you with a vulnerability that he doesn't often display so openly.

“Of course, Rin,” you hum, tracing your fingers down his exposed back. He still seems unsure as he pushes his face against your shirt, but his shoulders relax slightly. “I mean it. I like taking care of you, okay? There’s nothing to repay if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Your reassurance falls on deaf ears, though, as you feel his breathing even out and his grip on you loosening.

“I love you, baby,” you whisper, grabbing your book from where you’d set it earlier and relishing in the quiet as you continued to absentmindedly draw designs against Suna's warm skin. 

KUROO

Kuroo closes the apartment door quietly, finally letting his shoulders droop with exhaustion now that he's inside. He slips his bag noiselessly onto the ground and flicks his watch up to check the time. It was well past midnight by the time he actually clocked out of work and, although he wants nothing more than a dual welcome home/goodnight kiss from you, he hopes you’re sound asleep by now.

However, much to his surprise, you’re curled up on the couch with a book and a warm cup of tea, so enthralled in whatever you’re reading that you don't hear him approach. There’s a strong possibility you aren’t even aware of what time it is, completely lost in another world. He tests this theory by walking behind the couch and wrapping his arms around you, chuckling at the way you jump at the sudden contact.

“Welcome home!” you beam once you recover from the small scare. You press a quick kiss to his upturned lips before he walks around to the front so that he can relieve a proper hug.

“Thank you, babe,” he murmurs against your lips, not wanting to pull away from your warmth just yet. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“I wanted to wait for you and then I got to this really good part in my book and just...lost track of what time it was.” The way your eyes light up sends a wave of admiration shooting straight through Kuroo’s heart. “How was work? Why did you have to stay so late?”

Kuroo begins walking you through his hectic day, quickly turning the discussion into an irritated rant about having to fix other people’s mistakes and figuring out schedules for upcoming projects. You listen thoughtfully as you migrate towards the kitchen, your boyfriend trailing closely behind.

Soon, there was a cup of hot tea in his hands and the two of you are positioned on the couch with your legs thrown over his lap as he gently massages your calves.

Your eyes never leave his as he talks, nodding along and asking questions every now and then. He didn’t need nor want any sort of advice or words of wisdom. Simply having you listen to him was enough to have him feeling ten times lighter by the time he reached the bottom of his cup.

“Do you want more?” you ask, beginning to stand up. Kuroo doesn’t answer, instead leaning forward and hooking his arm around your waist so that you fall back into his arms.

“More of you, yes,” he says, smiling into your hair. He can practically feel the way your eyes roll as you let out an exasperated groan at his cheesy comment, but the hint of a blush making its way to your cheeks betrays you.

You make the first move to get up, offering a hand out to him. His hand engulfs yours as you pull him towards the bedroom. The bed has new sheets and the laundry is sitting in a basket freshly washed and ready to be folded. A wave of guilt crashes into him, knowing that you also worked today and must’ve come home afterwards and cleaned up.

“Baby, you should’ve gotten some rest,” Kuroo sighs, gesturing to the laundry and neatly made  bed. "I'm certain it was my turn to do the laundry.”

“Yeah, but when you told me you had to work late I figured I’d knock out some chores since I had the time. It’s not like it’s a big deal, Tetsu.” 

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” The words have barely left his lips before he's throwing the covers over the two of you and shutting off the lights. His arms wrap around your middle as he pulls you close to him, relishing in your small giggles. It doesn't take long for you to drift to sleep while Kuroo places soft kisses against your exposed shoulders. He soon follows, matching his breathing with yours and immediately winding down, but until his brain finally shuts off from exhaustion he's thinking of all the ways he's going to show you just how much he appreciates everything you do.

IWAIZUMI

Iwaizumi watches as you begin cooking dinner for the two of you as a quiet pop song plays off your phone. His work day was less than stellar, to put it simply, but watching you dance around the kitchen has already earned the frown from his face and has him smiling like a damn fool.

“Haji!” you exclaim, suddenly noticing the lurking figure from the corner of your eye. He steps out from his hiding place, an amused yet sheepish look on his face as he notices your flustered expression. “Why were you just standing there? Come here and give me a kiss, idiot.” He raises his hands in surrender as he does what you say, letting his lips linger on yours for a moment longer than usual and wrapping his arms around your waist to draw you closer to him.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs against your skin, resting his face into the crook of your neck. You pull back slightly, ignoring his childlike protests as you do so.

“Are you okay?” you question, eyeing him up and down. Iwaizumi is sure he could get lost in your beautiful eyes that are currently filled with concern. You know him too well, he thinks, as you give him a knowing look. It was still difficult for him to open up about things, especially small things that had bothered him throughout the day. There wasn't a real reason to talk about all the irritating parts of the day because he knows he can handle them himself, or so he claims.

“Y/n, it’s nothing,” he reassures, kissing your nose in an attempt to further prove he’s not bothered. “It was just a very long day, but now I’m back here with you and I couldn’t be happier.” His smooth talking makes it impossible for you to stay mad, but you surely try.

“Alright, well, you know you can talk about it even if it’s ‘nothing.’ In the meantime, stay here and watch the food for a moment while I run you a bath.” Iwaizumi is quick to object, but you’ve already sauntered out of the room and he can hear the faint sound of running water.

It truly did feel nice to be taken care of, he thinks fleetingly as he sinks into the warm water, but it's difficult for him to fully relax when he can hear you bustling around the kitchen. He waits in the bath for a little longer so that you won't bite his head off for how quick he was before changing  into a pair of sweatpants and a comfortable shirt. The sounds of you beginning to set the table echoes down the hallway and he finds himself hoping you'll at least let him help with that.

“You lasted longer in there than I thought," you tease as your boyfriend appears back at your side. "Now go sit down." He opens his mouth to argue, but one look and he finds himself moving towards the table, wondering why you were so intent on doing everything.

“At least let me do the dishes,” he practically pleads, watching you with an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude as you bring the warm food over to the table.

“Or, hear me out, we leave the dishes to deal with tomorrow and spend the rest of the night watching movies cuddled up on the couch." He narrows his eyes as he searches through his brain, trying to remember if he'd forgotten an anniversary or birthday because he surely didn't feel as if he deserved this.

As if reading his mind once again you reach out and hold his hand, gently rubbing your thumb in circles against his skin.

"Can't you just let me take care of you? You're constantly going above and beyond for me, so I just thought I'd try and return the favor." Iwaizumi feels his face heat up as you place a kiss against his knuckles like he always does to you. It did feel nice, but he enjoys taking care of you. He never even thinks twice about it. 

"Alright, alright. In that case, you can do the dishes tonight and maybe also get some desert." He can feel your eyes boring into him as if to say, 'Don't push it.' A smile breaks out on his face as he begins digging into the meal you prepared, peppering you with compliments until his plate is clean.

[bitchassbucky]

Ｂｏｔｈｅｒ

📎Word Count: 2.2k

📎Warning/s: smut! minors DNI. mean!fuckboy!bucky x f!reader. unprotected sex. little to no foreplay, because, well, he just wants to get his dick wet. denied orgasm :( no aftercare too lol he’s an asshole in this one. messy facial! some heckin’ words.

📎A/N: jesus fuckiNG CHRIST okay this is one of my longer fics, i’m trying to get back into writing long fics again so, bear with me. fuckboy!bucky playlist to accompany you while reading this <3 

📎reblogs, likes, and comments are all welcomed! shower me with validation pls

📎Masterlist || Ask || AFTERDARK

The bass line and the drumbeat made your heart pump in sync. The room reeked of cheap drinks and expensive perfume—sweaty patrons swirling, mingling around, keeping their drinks cold, their hearts warm.

Chatter peaked when the band finished the song, a round of applause rising the frontman’s ego. The spotlight shone brightly on him, the stage lights hitting his back, lighting up his silhouette with pinks and purples.

He beams with adrenaline. All perfect smiles.

Slinging his stickered guitar to the side, he speaks into the mic, “thank you all for coming. We’ve been The Commandos. Goodnight!” The frontman flashes his million-dollar, megawatt smile and bows, earning another applause from the audience.

The rest of the band slinked out the back, bowing, giving out air-kisses and waves. Another band piles onto the stage, waving hello to the gathering crowd.

You sigh, the bottom of your shoes sticking to the dirty floor of the bar. The overhead lights of the bar a bright yellow contrast to the stage’s red hue. The beer in your hand condensing, the tips of your fingers damp in the process. The warmth of the place piling on your impatience.

Pushing yourself off the bar, you make your way to the back, one thing echoing in your mind. Familiar faces crowd your vision, sending a polite smile their way.

A door stands in front of you, the wood stained with stickers and posters and autographs. You knock twice before turning the knob.

“Where’s Bucky?” You say, leaning against the door frame. The door slowly swings open.

A blonde man, what’s-his-face, looks at you and puts down a pair of drumsticks, “‘Dunno what to tell ya, but he’s not here.”

Your roll your eyes, sending him a mirthless smile, “yeah, obviously. I was hoping if you could tell him to meet me tonight.”

Steve—you suddenly remembered his name—eyed you head to foot, a smirk plastered on his face, “Sounds important. Why don’t you hang out with us while waiting for him?”

A chuckle escapes your lips, “no, thanks. I’ll meet him outside.”

Steve makes a face, quirking a light brow to the rest of the group. All of them sharing the same look, “alright. Suit yourself.”

The clock ticks just ten minutes after 11, your patience growing thin as a needle. A gaggle of drunk patrons stumbles out the door when you spot him—leather jacket, distressed, ripped pants.

“Where’s my ring?” Without missing a beat.

Bucky’s lips quirk into a smirk, “whoa, baby, we fucked once,” he made you come thrice, “and you’re asking for a ring already?”

A shiver runs up your spine, whether it’s from disgust or something else, it wasn’t clear, “you know what I meant. I left my ring on your nightstand.”

“Deliberately, or…”

Your hands curl up in frustration, your left shin itching, “c’mon. Do you have it or not?” 

His intentionally undone boots scuffed against the floor as he stalks closer to you, his perfume invading your olfactory senses. Oh, he smells good. 

“D’you wanna find out?” His voice dropping a couple of octaves, whispering into the shell of your ear. His thick arms caging you against the bar and the wall. Fuck, he smells really good.

A feeble attempt to make room goes unnoticed, your breath hitching in your throat, “If you don’t have it on you, I’d gladly receive it through the mail.”

Bucky licks his tinged lips, a vein in his temple ticking—the lighting reflecting in his blue eyes, “why would I mail it to you when you can pick it up from my place?”

A rational voice in your head echoes, fighting with your impulse. The closeness of both of your bodies radiating warmth and electricity.

“Fine.” You relented, impulsivity is what got you there in the first place.

The drive to the place shouldn’t take too long, the little shit deliberately took the long way to his place. 

While you sit on the passenger side of his car, he keeps sending you amused glances. As if he couldn’t believe you’d willingly go with him tonight. Well, technically, it really wasn’t part of your plan.

“You wanna get burgers first?” He offers, lowering the music coming from the car’s stereo.

“I wanna get my ring back, Bucky.” You say, reminding him—and yourself—of what your agenda for tonight is.

He dismisses you, as per usual. And pulls over a drive-through of a local burger place, ordering himself a meal.

Instead of getting back out on the highway, he parks the car, rolls down the window, and eats.

“Jesus- fuck, Bucky!” You exclaimed in frustration, “look, if you want to waste my time, then-”

“Then, what?”

“Then go fuck yourself.” You left in a huff, swinging your legs and slamming the car door shut. Hoping that he’d go deaf in one ear.

Making sure that you’re well visible and in a brightly-lit place, you pull out your phone to book an Uber. Only to find Bucky making his way to you for the second time tonight.

“Hey!” Didn’t even used your name to call you, great work!

“I do have it, it’s really back in my place. By the lamp on the bedside table.” The truth lingers out on the night air, waiting for you to acknowledge it.

You meet Bucky’s statement with a wary squint, he meets your rightful doubt with a smile.

“No more stopovers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky’s place is a liminal space for you. 

The familiar shadows and corners welcome you, the surfaces on where your bare skin sat hissed at you. You stood by the doorway, not wanting to prolong the journey.

“Hey, c’mon, it’s just me. Sit down.” Exactly, it is him.

You shake your head, leaning by the wall like a stranger, “I’m good. You’re not gonna take long anyway.”

But instead of retrieving your jewelry, his form retreats to the kitchen. A few seconds pass and you hear the crack and hiss of a beer bottle being opened.

“Y’know, I think I’ll just get it myself.” You toe off your shoes, placing them by the door. Your jacket still hanging off your shoulders.

You passed by Bucky, walking towards a love seat, two beers on one hand, “hurry up, then. Got a drink for ya.”

Hazy images play by memory the last time you were here, his damn cologne seeping into your nostrils.

Your head hanging by the edge of the bed as he laps your cunt like a man starved.

The headboard supporting your balance as you bounce up and down his thick cock.

Carpeting that gave your knees burn as he fucked you from behind.

Like an etch-a-sketch, you shake your head to get rid of the scenes that made themselves known.

A shining glint from the bedside table catches your eye, you swipe the ring and stashed it down your jacket pocket.

Coming out of the room with your ring, your slight smile falters as you saw Bucky lounging shirtless. As rightfully so, this is his home anyway.

You steeled yourself despite the heat that’s making its way up to your neck, “uh, I already got it. Thanks, Bucky.”

He shoots you a look—a lingering one. Like a predator about to pounce on prey. His stare chasing the goosebumps under your clothes.

“You sure you wanna go? It’s–” he glances at his phone for the time, “–past midnight.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” The setup.

“How about I take care of you for a change?” The trap.

And then just as sudden as your arrival, you find yourself pressed up against the wall. The agenda of the night has already been forgotten.

Bucky’s mouth finds its temporary home on your jaw, moving down your neck. His large hands already clawing their way under your shirt, the suddenness of the moment stirring the heat in your belly.

Rushed hands and panted breaths meet feverish lips.

The moment his tongue slipped into your mouth was the moment where you lost all inhibitions. Your hands fly to his nape, tugging his hair, effectively making him moan into your mouth.

“You know me so well.” He purrs against your lips. Hitching your legs up his hips as he presses you harder against the drywall.

“Lots of people know you so well.” You bite back, knowing for a fact that he sees others behind your back.

“True,” he’s murmuring against your pulse point and you sigh, “you’re my favorite though.”

Your jacket clutters against the floor of his bedroom, along with his pants and your shirt. A yellow stream of light emits from the living room.

Bucky tosses you on the bed, sending the pillows crashing on the floor. Though the room is darkened with curtains, your eyes adjust enough to see him as he pulls your ankles towards him.

His abs are chiseled like a Greek god, his skin tanned, decorated with tattoos. His left nipple adorns a stainless steel piercing. Like the last time, he grabs your hand, trailing it along his torso, letting you feel his deep v-lines.

A lewd moan escapes your lips as you cup his hardening cock through his boxers. Thick and heavy, a perfect fit.

“You like it?” Bucky taunts, jutting his hips against your hand. You squeeze him lightly, earning you a deep groan from the man above you.

His hand suddenly tightens around your throat, pulling your head towards him, “I asked you a question.”

Giving him a small nod and a meek yeah seemed to have sufficed until he flips you on your stomach and forces your face down the bed.

Your skirt joins the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your panties do too.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Bucky taunts, one thick finger swiping the wetness between your folds. Spreading it around as preparation. A muffled confirmation made him chuckle as he pinches your clit with intention.

Taking his leaking cock out of his boxers, he swipes the bead of precum from his angry-red tip. He takes his sweet, sweet time before even thinking about pushing into your pussy.

Bucky drags the head of his cock up and down your fold, earning a needy moan from you—coating his entire length with your wetness.

After seemingly an eternity on your side, the sheets already imprinted their impression on the side of your cheek. Bucky finally, fucking finally, pushes into you. A short, white-hot burn shoots through your nerves, making you whimper.

His hand stays on the back of your neck, pushing you further down the bed as he moves. Your pussy lips gripping his dick like a vice, “so fucking tight. God.”

Bucky’s chest swelled up with pride as he notices your fingers digging into his sheets, “no one can fuck you this good.”

The bed squeaks with both of your weight shifting as he reaches around you, his fingers working around your bud. The pressure of his upper body makes you gasp with every thrust of his hips.

He continues to work you—his fingers circling tightly on your throbbing clit, his cock nudging the soft, spongy spot in you. Your toes curl with red heat as your orgasm begins to burn up your legs.

“I’m gonna-- ‘m so close,” your pleas fell on deaf ears as Bucky chases his own high. His balls slapping against your skin, his hips stuttering as his cock pulsates inside your velvet walls.

He curses, grabbing your shoulder and flipping you upside, kneeling before you. His hand pumping his dick continuously as it twitches—the veins even more prominent.

“Open your mouth, I’m gonna cum in it.” Bucky orders and you obey. Your fingers finding their way to your abandoned bundle of nerves—your climax threatening to fade away.

Thick ropes of cum shoot over your mouth, painting your lips and chin white as he misses.

“God, fuck, look at your mess.” Bucky sighs, he’s already tucked back into his boxers and handing you a shirt—presumably to clean yourself up.

“You got your ring? Anything else?” The annoyance in his tone is evident. The clock ticks half past midnight.

You dangle your purse in front of him as a gesture, the wind picks up and your shoes are loose on your feet.

“Alright, well, you could wait for your ride here, I guess.” Bucky dropped the act the moment he got his dick in you.

“Yeah, he’s just around the corner. Thanks for the, uh, ring.”

He hums, looking at his phone. His thumbs dancing over the keyboard, “Try not to bother my friends again when you wanna reach me.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or to smack the phone out of his hands, “yeah. Tried calling you but I’m pretty sure you blocked my number.”

A curt laugh echoes out from him, “‘m sorry. Out of habit. You know how it is.”

“Right.” And an awkward beat falls over the both of you.

A black car pulls up by the street and you silently thank the stars. By the time you turn around to at least do the right thing and bid Bucky goodnight, you find yourself facing a closed door.

[wandsandwheezes]

Family Man | F. W

TW // mentions of prem kids, pregnancy, children but mostly pure fluff

Taglist ✨ @witch-and-a-half @weasleysflowr @hufflepuffgirly @theweasleysredhair @wand3ringr0s3

If you asked Fred Weasley what his pride and joy was, people would usually expect him to beam proudly about the success of the shop with his brother, nevertheless, when he smiles fondly and says 'Thea Weasley' people are more often than not surprised.

Fred loved his Daughter so much that words couldn't describe how much happiness filled his heart every time he saw her. The second she was born, she had him wrapped around her little finger, a father that would do anything for her.

When you and Fred married, you were quick to fall pregnant with your first child, a Daughter, named after your Mother but the absolute spitting image of her father, however her soft strawberry blonde locks curled into ringlets, a trait that seemed to sprout as soon as her hair was long enough.

"How're my girls doing?" Fred whispers, pulling off his jacket, having just walked in from a day at the shop. You're sat with your daughter nestled into your side, about an hour or so deep into a nap. Fred gently scoops her up, not before pressing a small kiss to your forehead with a sweet hello, her little arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, falling back asleep instantly.

He took her up to her bed, tucking her in underneath her covers before pressing a gentle kiss to her hair, "goodnight my sweet angel, sleep well"

"I wish she'd stop growing," He says, joining you on the sofa, allowing you to cuddle into his side, his hands moving to play with your hair as he kicks off his shoes. "one day I'll wake up and my little girl will be an adult."

Laughing gently, you trace circles on his chest, feeling relaxed against him, you reminice of the moments you'd had together as teenagers, talking like this about your futures, getting married, how many kids you'd wanted and how you'd both give anything to do all of that with each other.

"Unfortunately Freddie, all they do is grow," You move to press a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling your nose into his neck for warmth, causing him to wrap his arms even tighter around you.

Little did you know that day, you were already pregnant with your second & third weasley children - the twins, like their father but one boy and one girl, Lee and Winnie. Identical apart from the eyes, the girl like her fathers and the boy much like yours, both with signature weasley hair.

Not even a few months after the twins you found out you were having another son, Billy who looked much like his uncle Bill did as a child, as Molly had pointed out hence his name. You originally wanted to call him Jamie but when you met your little boy for thr first time, both you and Fred decided that Billy was definitely more fitting.

finally your youngest daughter, Arabella. She was a gift that none of you had expected, after some complications after having Billy, you didn't think that having another child would be on the cards again. You found out you were pregnant a week or so before Fred's Birthday you had taken test after test, and even a trip to St Mungos to make sure, but as your doctor assured you, Arabella was on her way.

The thing about little Bella was that she was a tiny baby, a premature birth. When she was born she was so fragile looking and hearing her cries broke Fred's heart. The doctors said that she was quite frankly a miracle, making her just another pillar of pride for your adoring husband.

Having five children with Fred was an interesting experience, the house grew louder and louder and soon became like a second Burrow, children in and out of the house, magic everywhere. It truly was reminiscent of both of your childhoods. Despite having all the children to look after, he loved all of them with his whole heart and nothing less.

Your kids loved loved going to see Fred's parents and getting to spend time with Uncle George and Uncle Ron it was heart-warming to watch your family love the people you chose to be your family. Winnie absolutely adored being around Ginny and Lee wanted nothing more than to be like his Uncle Harry.

When Thea's Hogwarts letter came, Fred genuinely thought he was going to have a heart attack, "Merlin, Y/N, my little girl isn't old enough to be going to Hogwarts!" he was sat across the table from you eating his lunch, The sounds of Lee and Winnie bickering as Billy quietly draws and Arabella sits in your lap, listening into the conversation. To you, you were watching your babies grow up right before your eyes but to Fred they were always his babies.

"Freddie, my love it'll be the twins next, Lee wont shut up about getting to see Uncle Harry at school." you laugh, playing with the little curls on Arabella's head, a trait inherited from her oldest sister, "give it four years and our Bella will be off on her first year at Hogwarts with all of her siblings."

"I don't even want to think about that, I really don't know how Mum did it, sending us off one by one." you laugh lightly looking at your husband with a small smirk, "From what i heard from Molly, she was all but kicking you onto the platform, apparently you and George were a nightmare"

"We so were not!" he defended, feigning fake offense, rolling his eyes and taking a bite from his sandwich. "I think we were absolute golden angels" you raise an eyebrow at him, shaking your head, "You can be a golden angel and take Thea with you to Diagon Alley tomorrow to get her supplies, I don't fancy a day trip to London with the whole weasley clan just yet!" you laugh, he nods finishing up his food, the plate finding it's way to the sink, being washed up magically like at the Burrow, he presses a kiss to your hair, heading quickly to step into his father shoes, only to break up the growing argument between the twins.

You sat, content in the family you created, praising your younger self for putting up with all of Fred's antics because really, you were the luckiest girl on earth, with the greatest man alive, a loving father and the best Husband.

The time came to send Thea off on the Hogwarts Express, Molly had agreed to look after the rest of the children as you sent off your oldest, you were crying with fred as you hugged your little girl goodbye before she got onto the train. "Remember, Thea, it doesn't matter what house you get put in, and if you need someone to help you, you find Ted or Uncle Harry and they'll help you out." she laughs, wrapping her arms around her father's neck giving him a long hug. "I'll be fine, Dad, after all, I've got the weasley name to live up to!" he smiles proudly at his daughter, i give her one last kiss, giving her a couple of galleons for the train, "I love you, Thea." she hugs me again, "Love you too, Mumma!"

"One down, Four to go." you joke, leaning into your husband's side as you wave the train off, "At least the twins will have each other and Thea next year, the poor girl is all on her own!" you shake your head, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm sure she's already made friends, she's much like you when it comes to being outgoing..." he smiles, calming down a little, "I can't believe we've just sent our first off to Hogwarts." you hug him gently. "Neither can I, Freddie, neither can I."

[writing-fanics]

[Mamoru x Fem!Reader]

[Part Seven]

 a/n; so for this season I'm focusing more on Mamoru and Y/n's relationship so, i'll have a lot of og, scenes to do it.. and, as well have elements from the show... i'll use the manga fo chibi-usa introduction and, of course i'll have that dramatic break up scene that hurts me..... ] 

so this chapter maybe short i'm more focused on having interaction's between y/n and mamoru just to add more to their rekindling romance, even though they don't know that they know each-other. If it seems to be moving fast in them rebuilding their relationship they once had, I don't think it is im my opinoi. 

I know the moonlight knight is the embodiment of Mamoru's strong love for usagi.. in the story its y/n..but in this... some feelings are still there in Mamoru, but they are because he has a slight tiny tincy wincy little crush on y/n even though he doesn't know much about her.. the two have really cute interactions in which for them, feel strangely familiar....

i can't wait to do the babysitting chapter.. oh, goodness i'm gonna die at how cute its gonna be.. 

Also for the flashbacks,, I know its not explicitly mentioned in the manga, but for me I think the reincarnations of Mamoru and Usagi, Endymion and Serenity.. Were the same age so they were like possibly 16 or 17.. Maybe but for Serenity.. she would be 100 or something due to the silver crystal granting an 1000 live longevity. 

So Endymion and Y/n are 17.. don't judge me... 

[Y/n] sighed as she looked up, at the stars. A longing look on her face, every night she would do this. It always seemed to bring her comfort,  as she looked up at the sky. She noticed something, making its way down. She gasps, as it crashes into the ground. And, explodes. 

Her eyes widened, as she looks at it. And, runs out of her apartment complex to get a look at it. Everyone in the surrounding area, made their way to the crater that was left by the explosion. They all stood around the edge, 

"Musta been a meteor!" Rei's grandfather says, looking at it. 

[Y/n] looks curiously at the boulder, "No way!! All candy is 80% off?! Sounds like my kinda place!" Usagi shouts, looking at the flyer. 

"If all you ever eat are sweets, you'll turn your body into a giant bun, too." Mamoru says, looking at Usagi.

"Hey I know that obnoxious voice." She says, looking towards him. 

"Only you call me that!" She shouts at him, 

"The thought of a Bun-head turning into a bun-body is almost too much for me to take." He says, causing [Y/n] to snicker a bit, trying to hold back a laugh at this interaction. A familiar feeling washed over her, this felt so familiar.. 

Why was it?

[Time-Skip] 

[Y/n] was at the library, looking at books about the stars. Even though she already knew so much, it wouldn't hurt to know more. She got up from the chair and, checked out the books she was reading. She left the library and, made her way back to the apartment while reading her book, as she looked at the book. 

She didn't realize she bumped into someone, causing them to both drop their books. "I-I'm so sorry." She says, bending down, to help pick up their books. 

"It's okay, seems I'm being bumped into a lot lately." He says, to her and, she looks up at him. It was Mamoru, 

"O-Oh, hi Mamoru." She says, looking up at him. 

He looks up at her, "Hi, Y/n. Second time bumping into me today." He says to her and, chuckles nervously. Picking up his dropped books, 

"I-It seems so.." She says, smiling at him. The two then seem to reach out for the same book, their hands touching. A familiar warmth washing over them, the two look into each-other's eyes. The two quickly pull their hands away, from each-other a slight blush spread across their faces. 

[Y/n] turns back and, reaches for the book. Picking up the last one of Mamoru's books, she looks at him. "A-ah, sorry for bumping into you again." She says, to him nervously. 

"It's okay." He says, taking the books from her. And, handing her, her own books. She smiles at him, as he helps her off the ground. The two smile at each-other, the two look into each-other's eyes. 

"H-Have a nice day Mamoru." She says, bowing at him. Then walking away, a blush spread across his face... Her heart was racing and, she didn't know why. She barely knew Mamoru, but for some reason she felt she's known him for her entire life. 

This was so weird...

An saw this and, gasps. "Ugh! Who does she think she is?!" She says, as she was about to walk towards Mamoru, she fell to her knees. Clenching her chest, needing more energy. 

[Y/n] sat at her desk, taking notes on Stars. For her university, she sighed as she typed away. As she did, she couldn't stop thinking about Mamoru. And, again she didn't know why. She groaned and, fell onto the floor. She looked up at the ceiling, 

"Get your head outta the clouds, Y/n." She says, looking up at the ceiling. She sighs, she looks out the window once more. And, walks onto her balcony, she looks up at the stars. As she looks up at the stars, she sees Mamoru looking up at them, she looks over at him and, smiles. 

He sees her and, smiles back at her. "You must really like the stars." He says and, she giggles and, nods. 

"Yes, I love the stars. I absolutely adore them." She says, looking up at them. Her hands, clasps together. He looks at her, 

"It's the only thing, that makes me feel close to my mother." She says, to him a smile spread across her face. As she looks, at Mamoru. This moment between them, once again feeling so familiar. The two looking at each-other under the night sky. 

The two even though not knowing much about one another, would just have these interactions that seemed like they do know about each-other. Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she stood there underneath the stars, the two just stared at each-other. 

[Y/n] looked down, she began playing with her fingers. "I-I should probably get back to working on my paper." She says, blushing. She slowly backs away, a blush spread across her face. She turns back towards him and, jokingly says, 

"I-I guess I-I'll see you tomorrow when we bump into each-other." She says jokingly, causing Mamoru to chuckle a bit. Her heart skips a beat,

"I hope so.." He says and, her heart was racing. She felt like she was going to pass out, from embarrassment.She smiles, at this and, looks at Mamoru. 

"G-Goodnight Mamoru." She says, her hand over her heart. As she walks into her apartment, she plops onto her bed and, blushes. Her heart racing. She brought the blanket to her face and, squealed quietly to herself. As she lays in the bed, she couldn't stop thinking about him... 

All these interactions are so familiar, they feel so familiar. She snuggles her head, into her pillow and, smile. She slowly begins to close her eyes and, falls asleep. As she lays in bed, a monster breaks into her apartment. Causing her to be startled awake, hearing the shattering of glass. She gets out of bed and, grabs the broom that was in her room. 

She opened the door to her bedroom and, gasps seeing the monster in front of her. "What the f-.." She says, but was grabbed by the neck by the monster. 

"Vampir!" it shouted, as it began to drain her of her energy. She tried to hit the monster with her broom, but the monster snaps it in two. She groans as her energy begins to drain, from her body. 

"Y/n!" Atlas shouted, jumping at the monster attacking it. But it flings him away, causing him to hit the wall. The monster drops [Y/n] who falls to the ground in a daze, Usagi now as Sailor Moon runs into the room, 

"Y/n!" Sailor Moon shouts, shaking her but [Y/n] is unfazed. The monster attacks Sailor Moon and, begins to drain her energy. Atlas looks at this in shock, "No! Sailor Moon!" He shouts, seeing her struggling. He was conflicted, all they wanted was to have a normal life. 

And, [Y/n] and Mamoru, bit by bit were already rekindling their lost romance. She wanted a normal life with him, not having to worry about monsters, coming after them. Or having to save the world and, lose people she loves. Tears brim Atlas eyes, "I'm sorry Y/n! But Sailor Moon needs your help. Become Sailor Luna again!" he says, as a beam comes out of his crescent moon, and it hits [Y/n]'s forehead. 

Tears roll down her cheeks, as the memories are beginning to come back. The death of her friends, her dying in Mamoru's arms. And, him staying by her side till the very end. 

'No, please let me live a normal life!' 

'Please, that's all I want is that so hard to ask for!' 

'I don't want to remember! let me live a normal life!' 

'Nooo!' 

She gasps tears rolling down her cheeks, she smiles sadly at Atlas. "I'm so sorry Y/n.." He says and, she shakes her head. 

"There was no other choice." She says, wiping the tears from her eyes. She stands up, 

'Lunar Prism Power Make-Up!' 

[Y/n] looks at Vampir and, growls. Kicking, it in the face. Sending it flying out her window, "If it wasn't for you we'd be living a normal life, no thanks to you!" She shouts at it, it swings at her and, she dodges it. She jumps do

"Come on, Sailor Moon." She shouts, looking towards her, Who looks up at her and, nods. 

"Right." Sailor Moon says, as she touches her tiara. 

'Moon Tiara Action ' 

'Lunar Beam!''

They watch as the monster disappears and, a card appears before them. Falling onto the ground and, fading away... 

"Sailor Moon and Sailor Luna was it? I had no Idea someone like you was on this planet." Ail said, appearing as an apparition.

"Who are you people?!" [Y/n] shouts, at them. 

"Nomadic Nobles of the universes I'm Ail." He says, looking at them. 

"And I am An." An says, 

"You were the ones who sent that monster, weren't you" Sailor Moon shouted, at them. 

"Yeah but that was only a sneak peek at was what to come. " An says, laughing as they fade away. 

[Time-Skip] 

[Y/n] groaned, as the sound of glass crunches as she walks on the floor. "Man, this is gonna cost so much to get repaired." She says, looking down. She couldn't deal with it tonight it was going, to have to be tomorrow before she could do anything. Atlas was in her arms, she looked down at him and, said, 

"Looks like we're going to have to stay at a hotel for a bit." She says, to him. Looking down, as she left her apartment and, making her way to the nearest hotel. Once in the hotel [Y/n] plopped onto the bed and, laid her head down on the pillow. 

"Y/n?" Atlas says, jumping onto the bed walking towards her.  "Are you okay?" He asks and, she groans and, shakes her head. He notices tears in her eyes, 

"No, even though I have all my memories back, so does Usagi.. I know eventually the others will, but... I don't know why I have this feeling Mamoru will never remember me.." She cries into the pillow, 

"M-Maybe, I can try to help him remember; but... I have this feeling nothing I say or do will help him at all. I love him so much and, now I felt before I had my memories back, that we were slowly rekindling what we'd lost." She mumbles, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm sure he'll remember you eventually, you're Princess Y/n and he's Prince Endymion. You two are star-crossed lovers, who always find a way back to each other." He says to her and, [Y/n] looks at him. A smile spreads, across her cheek. 

"Thanks Atlas." She says, petting him and, he purrs. She looks out the window, looking at the stars. As a picture of image of Mamoru's smile enters her head, tears stream down her cheeks. 

- [ Flashback ] - Silver Millennium 

[Y/n] was looking down at the ring, that Endymion gave her. She fiddles with it a smile, spread across her face. As she looks up at the moon, her hands clasp together. In prayer, hoping for the future for her and, Endymion to be allowed together. 

So they could start, a life together. And, as well have both the Earth and Moon kingdom together as one, where they could live together in peace. Where her and Endymion, could be happy and, as well either have a prince or princess of their own. 

She wanted to have a future with, him. That was her ultimate dream, for both kingdom's to be one. A life she wanted for both of them, to have a happy and, prosperous kingdom. She smiles as she looks up at the stars, as she looks down back at the ring. 

She was so lost in her own world, she didn't notice her sister coming up behind her. She tapped on her shoulder, causing [Y/n] to jump. 

"Ah, Serenity!" She shouts, turning back towards her sister. 

"Please you, must keep it a secret." She says, to her showing her the ring. 

"I love him so much, and I know it's forbidden." She says, fiddling with the ring a smile on her face. 

"What if he's using you?" Serenity asks, taking her sister's hand into her own, [Y/n] shakes her head, and looks at Serenity. 

"That's not like him, he'd never do anything like that. He loves me, I can see it in his eyes." [Y/n] says, to her a smile on her face. 

"But...I'm worried about you. I don't want to see you hurt." Serenity says to her and, she intertwines her fingers with her sisters. 

"You won't he promises to protect me." [Y/n] says, smiling at her looking back up at the stars. She smiles at her, Serenity looks at her sister. 

"Then.. I'm happy for you.."  Serenity says to her, [Y/n] wraps her arms around Serenity, she hugs her sister back. 

"For the both of you.." She says and, [Y/n] giggles at her. 

"And, the ring is beautiful." She says and, [Y/n] nods. 

"It is, I don't know if I can live in a world without him." [Y/n] says, looking at the Earth. 

"I want to be there with him, every second of everyday. In his arms, where I feel safe." She says, wrapping her arms around herself. 

"In his arms, is where I belong." She says, smiling looking up at the stars. 

"My Endymion, the love of my life.. My one true love.." She says, looking at the garden. 

[Time-Skip]

[Y/n] was on Earth dancing underneath the night sky with Endymion, a smile spread across both of their face. She giggled, as she looked into Endymion's eyes, his eyes that she'd always get lost in. Like he would for hers, her eyes that shined brighter than any other star in the sky he would say. 

Endymion placed his hand on her cheek and, she accepted it. Placing her hand over his, she leaned into his touch. She blushed at what she was thinking, "What is it, my star."  He asks and, she looks up at him a blush spread across her cheeks. 

"I-I was just thinking about, how it be life if we ever had a little prince or princess." She says, looking down embarrassed.. Endymion blushed at this, but he smiled. Placing his fingers underneath her chin, causing her to look up at him. 

"i'm sure, if we were to ever have a prince or princess. They'd have eyes that shine brighter than any other star and, your beauty. Kind, sweet, caring personality."  He says to her and, she smiles at him placing her hand on his cheeks. 

"And, I know that they have your, kind, caring, personality. And, will go to any lengths to protect the ones they love." She says, as the two intertwine their fingers and, share a kiss. Thinking about what it would be like, to have a prince and princess. 

"I can tell out future will be bright, full of love. Happiness." She says, snuggling her head into Endymion's chest. He places his head, on the top of her head. 

"Elara.." She says, smiling up at him.

"That's what I want to name our future princess, when we become one." She says, and Endymion smiles, placing his hand on her cheek. 

"Elara.." He says, nodding. And, she hugs him giggling. 

[ugh... i was gonna have the reader be secretly pregnant with his child.. but i decided not too...] .. 

SIKE! They are in love what do you expect.. but she's in the really early stages and, isn't getting any symptoms.. 

[Y/n] smiles as she looks up at the stars, her hand clasps together. Praying, 

'Please, let the Moon and Earth Kingdom be one kingdom, one day. Were Endymion and I, and possibly our future child can, live together happily. As a kingdom, that is peaceful. Where we aren't separated from the ones, we love.'' 

She says, looking up at the sky. Tears rolling down her cheeks, "My Endymion." She says, happily. Placing her hand, on her stomach, smiling softly. 

"My little Elara." She says, rubbing it gently. Feeling the tiny child in her stomach..She looks at the stars. But it was that same day, the Moon Kingdom fell. Where she lost Endymion, which in grief she took her own life. 

[Flash-back Ended] 

[Y/n] placed her hand on her stomach, tears brimming her eyes. She placed her hand over her mouth, 

"We were gonna have a princess." She says, choking back a sob. Closing her eyes, looking up at the ceiling. [Y/n], smiles looking down at the blanket.

She looks down at her stomach, even though she wasn't pregnant. It felt like she could feel the small child in her stomach, growing. A child they had created together through love in secret, she looked towards the window. And, up at the sky. 

Tears streaming down her cheeks, for a child she never had the chance of knowing. "Elara.." She says, softly looking up at stars. She closes her eyes and, smiles softly. 

[ i was gonna have a future flash where yall see Elara. .but i decided not and to wait till we get to that..]

[blossom-hwa]

valentine’s day + stray kids ✧

the enablers: @wingkkun​​ by virtue of their existence and @thepixelelf​​ bc of her @newskynet​​ valentine’s day prompt list (which can be found here! check it out :D) anyway you can blame them for my word vomits tonight tomorrow <3 happy early valentine’s day and I hope you enjoy these blurbs!

pairing: stray kids x gender neutral!reader (one blurb for each member!)

wc: 3.5k (total)

genre: fluff, lots of fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

golcha version | the boyz version

SKZ Scenarios Masterlist | SKZ Drabbles Masterlist

1. “shit, what day is it again?”

when chan opens the door to a beaming you, he has no idea what’s going on. he still has headphones around his neck, there are definitely bags under his eyes, he hasn’t slept in maybe close to twenty hours, and there is definitely something important that he’s forgetting, judging by the nonplussed expression that has now slid over your face. 

“chan, when did you sleep last night?” you ask, stepping into his dorm. you’re holding something behind your back that chan’s craning his neck to see, but you catch sight and twist away. “hey, no looking.”

the knowledge that you have something is more than enough, though, to get his overly tired brain actually thinking. his eyes narrow. what the heck is he forgetting - 

oh. 

oh no. 

chan scrambles around for his phone as you look over, eyebrows rising as he pats his pockets. “shit, what day is it again?” 

you hold up your own phone, giving him an eyeful of your lock screen set to a picture of himself laughing into the camera. he isn’t focused on that, though - he’s focused on the words underneath the time that say “february 14, 2021.”

“oh my god, it’s valentine’s day.”

“no shit, sherlock.” you put a finger to his forehead and press hard. “i made reservations.”

“what? okay, no, i swear you didn’t tell me about this -”

“i didn’t, chan.” you smile, shaking your head. “it was supposed to be a surprise. and i knew you’d forget the day or something because you always do lose track of time - hey, don’t look at me that way, i even made a bet with minho on the way and i’m right - so i came early to force you to sleep for several hours before we go out.”

okay, that’s fair, but chan’s lips curve downward into a pout anyway. “i didn’t forget,” he protests. “well, i forgot today, but i still have something for you! i got it last week.” he looks around frantically, then drags a box out from underneath his bed. “here!”

a wide smile splits your face and you pull your own present from behind your back, a red-wrapped box that chan begins to open as you cuddle the teddy bear he’s handed over to you. “chan, you sap,” you say, words muffled in the bear’s fur. “god i love you.”

“and i love you too,” he replies, pulling out a box of his favorite candy. “kiss?”

laughing, you press your lips together once, twice before pulling away. “sleep time,” you announce. “no kisses until you’ve gotten at least three hours.”

chan all but lunges into bed, trapping you with him between his arms. “sleeping now,” he says, voice muffled into your shirt. “goodnight.”

“good afternoon, more like.” you smile anyway, stroking his hair. “but good night.”

18. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

minho is about to lose his shit in this tiny hospital bed with the sterile white sheets and curtains barring sunlight from streaming on his body. back when his ankle wasn’t broken to high hell, he really hadn’t given the sun enough appreciation. after three days of almost zero movement, though, he swears he’ll actually go outside voluntarily once he gets out of here. 

the door opens. a head peeks in. 

ah. there’s his daily dose of human sunshine. 

a smile slides onto minho’s face as you come in, arms full of snacks and flowers. you place a bouquet of red roses on the little table beside his bed and dump the snacks onto his sheets. “happy valentine’s day, idiot boyfriend who broke his ankle just three days before today.”

minho scowls. “it’s not like i tried to.”

“i know. even you’re not that dumb.” you pat his head mockingly, laughing as minho’s scowl deepens. “sit up, idiot. here, i’ll help.”

he allows his frown to turn into a grudging smile as you help him sit properly in bed, careful not to jar his ankle before passing him one of the bags of chocolates in his lap. “jisung gave this to me for you and asked me to ask you if you would be his valentine.”

minho pauses in opening the bag. “what.”

“jisung for you.” you laugh. “his partner was right next to him laughing their ass off. try the chocolates.”

he picks one out. puts it in his mouth. chews. “oh my god, this chocolate tastes like chalk.”

“what - how the fuck do you know what chalk tastes like?”

“i don’t, what the fuck? i just imagine it would taste like this.”

you snort. “so my boyfriend first breaks his ankle dancing three days before we valentine’s, and on this romantic day i learn he’s definitely eaten chalk.” you sigh, snatching a bag of gummies from the sheets. “what a day.”

“i don’t eat chalk!”

“bet.” 

he opens his mouth to reply, but you cut him off with a kiss. “eat your chalk chocolate,” you direct when you pull away. “or jisung will get upset.”

“ugh fine.” he rolls his eyes. “but i’m only listening to you because i love you.”

“cheeseball.” you smile. “i love you too.”

20. “babe.” / “since when do you call me babe?”

grinning, jisung picks up the bouquet of roses you were about to hand him before falling to the ground in laughter. “these for me?”

“no, they’re for my valentine.” you snatch them back, still wheezing. “which was going to be you, but you ditched me for minho, so now i need to find someone else.”

“aw, come on.” jisung pouts, pursing his lips actively even as you try to hide the smile on your face by turning away. “y/n! y/n. y/nnnnnnnnn. y/n, look at me. please? y/n. babe.”

“what the - jisung - since when do you call me babe?” your half disgusted, half amused face sends him into hysterics as he glomps you in a hug, laughing into your shoulder. “hey, sung! get away! you’re drooling on my clothes!”

“am not!” jisung pulls away, trying to pout but laughing too hard to do so. you just looked so fucking funny. “and what’s wrong with me calling you babe?”

“don’t do it again.” you push his shoulder. “do not. you won’t like the consequences.”

“consequences?”

“one, you don’t get these flowers. i’ll put them in my own room.” you wave the bouquet in front of him. “two, i give chan the all clear to play ‘wow’ on his campus radio station.”

“you wouldn’t dare -”

“three, no kisses for a week.”

jisung falls to his knees. “no, no, y/n, my beautiful and wonderful significant partner, i will never call you babe again, please don’t sentence me the barren world of no kisses for a week just because of my idiot mouth -”

“jesus christ, jisung, get up. you’re making a scene.” you laugh anyway, pulling him up before placing a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. “i was just joking. but please don’t call me babe if you don’t want me to cringe to the next dimension.”

“done deal.” jisung holds his out his hands. “flowers?”

you roll your eyes, handing them over. he breathes in their scent, smiling widely. “they’re so pretty!” then he looks up and winks. “but not as pretty as you.”

at that, you laugh again, crushing the bouquet as you wrap him in a hug. “i love you so much, jisung,” you murmur into his ear.

his arms reach out to loop around your waist as he pulls you closer. “i love you too,” he replies, smiling.

for a moment, you two only stand, finding peace in each other’s warmth. then jisung’s mouth runs once more.

“you know, i wrote my lyrics for ‘wow’ thinking of you.”

“do you have to ruin every moment?”

14. “you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin doesn’t even bother to reply to the picture jisung’s just sent of the flowers his partner gave him. he’s too nervous, his stomach literally fluttering as he stops his motorcycle by the curb and wheels it into the shop.

“hi, welcome, what can i - changbin?” you raise an eyebrow. “did you seriously bang up your motorcycle on valentine’s day?”

changbin’s ears turn bright red. he knows it even if he can’t see them. you think he always comes here because something else has magically gone wrong with his motorcycle, but what you don’t know is that he’s been pretending things are wrong with the vehicle for months at this point just so he has an excuse to see you. 

and now it’s valentine’s day. the day he chose to fess up and admit how he feels and ask you on a date. 

heck. 

“nothing’s... broken.” changbin scratches his neck. “uh...”

both of your eyebrows are now high up on your forehead. “so why are you here?”

“i...” he coughs, feeling his ears flare even hotter. “i wanted - i wanted to ask if you -” he looks down, unable to look at you. “i wanted to ask if you would go out with me today. like. on a date.”

silence. he doesn’t have the courage to look up. 

“you’re seriously asking me out on valentine’s day?”

changbin shrinks behind his motorcycle. holy fuck, this was the worst idea, you’re about to reject him and his heart is going to shatter -

then you step forward, place a hand on the vehicle. “okay, that came out wrong.” you tip his chin up gently so he’s forced to look into your soft, teasing eyes. “what i meant is that i’d love to go on a date with you today. i just didn’t expect you to ask me out on valentine’s day. didn’t seem like a very you thing to do.” you pause. “though i guess considering that song you played for me last time, it isn’t that surprising.”

oh, god. on track. changbin wrote that thinking of you. 

“wait, seriously?”

he really just said that out loud. changbin groans, slapping his forehead. “why am i dumb,” he mumbles into his hand. 

you laugh, peeling his hand away with grease-covered fingers. “you’re not dumb, bin. just sweet.” as he melts from the use of your nickname, you wave your greasy palm in front of his face. “let me go wash and tell seungmin to close up early. i’ll be out in a second.” you grin. “looking forward to whatever you have planned.”

(later, when you wrap your now clean arms around changbin’s waist on his motorcycle, he smiles so wide it feels like his face is going to split.)

25. “i love you.”

with a relieved sigh, seungmin locks up the shop, wiping grease-stained fingers on a towel. despite the fact that he mostly only handles the register, dirt still manages to get everywhere, even when he tries to be careful. 

doesn’t matter. seungmin likes his job, likes it even though it’s a little hard to be independent from his parents after so many years of living off their credit card. the freedom is sweet, though - now he can learn what he wants, do what he wants, and best of all...

now he can date whom he wants.

seungmin smiles, running up to his dorm so he has just enough time to change and shower before meeting you. he cleans up quickly before grabbing the singular rose in a glass on his desk and racing downstairs once more, hair still slightly damp, to meet you in front of the building. 

god, you’re beautiful, standing against the backdrop of the afternoon sun. in the moment that you don’t notice him walking out the door, he runs forward, smiling, before engulfing you in a back hug. 

“hey - oh, seungmin.” he can hear the smile in your voice as you clutch his hands hanging around your shoulders. “you scared me!”

“sorry,” he says, pulling away to spin you around. god, looking into your laughing face, seungmin knows everything was worth it. he may have lived in the lap of luxury before, attending parties every other weekend and drinking the finest champagne while dressed in the most resplendent clothing (courtesy of the kim family empire), but luxury doesn’t mean much when he was missing real, true love, right? you were one of the first, other than hyunjin, to see through his cold facade and break into the warm heart underneath. 

as he hands you the rose, he’s glad, so glad that you gave him the courage to go head to head with his parents for the first time, to finally break away from their strangling control over every bit of his life. what did he need parties and designer clothing and jewels for, anyway? he’s still living, still able to support himself even if it means a little more work. and even if he’s tired, he has your lips to come back to, every day. 

“i love you,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, sweetly. “i really do, y/n.”

“so do i,” you breathe, smiling against his lips in reply.

12. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

hyunjin kind of wants to hit you, significant other or not. judging by your shit-eating grin, you probably know exactly how he feels, but you keep your eyes as soft and innocent as possible. “no, i don’t know what day it is, hyunjin. isn’t it just february 14?”

“y/n.”

“hyunjin.”

he groans, sinking dramatically to the ground. “it’s valentine’s day.”

“oh. right.” you adopt a thinking expression, raising your eyes to the sky. “valentine’s day... that’s the one with the bunny, right?”

“y/n!”

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding!” you finally laugh, reaching out a hand to pull him up from the university quad. “hey, get up, hyunjin. you’re going to get your designer clothes dirty.”

shit, he is. hyunjin accepts your hand, dusting grass bits off of his shirt. “you’re so mean,” he whines. “to think i had a whole evening planned and all, just for you to pretend to forget the entire day.”

“ah, but i didn’t forget. i only pretended to.” you grin, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. ��and to prove it, i have something for you! close your eyes.”

eagerness and apprehension flooding his veins, hyunjin shuts his eyes. for a moment, he hears you digging around in your bag, and then you put something in his hand. “here!”

opening his eyes, hyunjin looks down to see a pair of elegant earrings in his palm. you made them, definitely - he can see the tiny mark of your initials etched in the metal of one earring, his initials on the other - and he smiles wide, so wide, all of your previous transgressions forgotten in this moment. “i love them,” he says, already unfastening the hoops currently in his ears to put the new ones in. 

“i thought you would. hey, let me help.” your fingers take the earrings, deftly inserting one into each ear. “perfect.”

“i have something for you two, but you’ll get it later.” hyunjin pockets his old earrings before taking your hand. “right now, i’m taking you on a date.”

“what, i have no say in this?” your eyes sparkle. 

“nope!” hyunjin laughs, swinging your arms in the air. “come on, i swear the evening’s going to be a lot of fun.”

“i believe you.” you stop him to kiss him once, softly. “everything’s fun with you, hyunjin.”

15. “shut up and kiss me.”

with the brownie box in his hands almost empty, felix makes every effort to dodge anyone who knows for fear that they’ll ask for one of the last few treats left inside. hyunjin took like five earlier, jesus christ, even when felix warned him he was saving some for you. ungrateful brat. 

thankfully, no one accosts him, and he makes it to your meeting place without interruption. there you already are, mindlessly twirling a bouquet of roses around in your fingers. as he approaches, you look up, and felix is (once again) blown away by the intensity of your smile. 

some people liken him to the sun. others, with his freckles, compare him to the stars. both, though, felix thinks are more proper descriptors for you and your lovely grin that’s as bright as the sun and the stars combined. 

“felix!” you stand as he comes closer, handing him the roses. he passes over the box of brownies and you screech in delight, taking off the lid and popping one of them into your mouth. “oh my god, it’s so good.”

“don’t talk with your mouth full,” felix scolds, smiling anyway. “do you only love me for my brownies?”

“maybe” is the cheeky reply. you laugh as felix reels in mock astonishment, placing a dramatic hand to his chest. “i’ve been betrayed,” he wheezes. “stabbed in the back by my one true love who turned traitor to our romance, how will i live -”

“hey, felix?”

he looks up. “hm?”

your eyes sparkle. “shut up and kiss me.”

your lips taste like chocolate, sweeter even than the brownie you just finished. felix puts his arms around you, rose petals brushing against your back as he holds you close, close, closer - 

“oh my god.”

a familiar voice makes felix pull away from your lips as he turns around. “jeongin?”

“nope, nope, nope,” the younger boy chants, eyes fully closed. “i saw none of that, jesus christ, come on, let’s go -”

too late, felix notices the person standing next to his friend, eyes also screwed shut. a smirk rises on his face. that must be jeongin’s crush, he thinks as they race away, the crush he’s been sweating over asking out for the last few weeks. 

“aw, man.” felix frowns, suddenly coming to a realization. “jeongin probably wanted to confess here.”

“he’ll do fine,” you laugh, tugging at his arm. “now get back here. we’re not finished.”

felix smiles, pulling you close once more. “no, we aren’t.”

6. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

listen. jeongin did not need to see felix making out with his partner right before he was about to confess. not only did it completely ruin his plans to talk to you in the prettiest part of campus, but he also has an image seared into his mind that he really does not need. 

“sorry,” he mutters, still unable to look at you. 

“it’s fine.” jeongin can hear the second hand embarrassment in your voice. “it wasn’t your fault. uh.” you pause. “you said... you wanted to tell me something?”

right. jeongin squeezes his eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the previous images from his brain. “yeah. i did. um.” he swallows, then forces himself to look into eyes that sparkle in the fading sunlight, eyes that he fell in love with so many months ago when you two first worked on that project together. 

thankfully, his words don’t fail him. “i just wanted to say i like you a lot, y/n.” jeongin keeps looking at you, even though all he wants to do is run away screaming. “as in... i want to ask you out. if that’s okay with you.”

silence. 

then you start giggling. 

jeongin frowns. why - 

“oh my god, jeongin.” you double over on the bench, laughing even harder. “i’m so sorry.”

his heart sinks as embarrassment begins to burn his ears. “if you don’t like me -”

“no, no!” you straighten, wiping your eyes. “no, it’s not about that. it’s just -” you snort - “oh my god, you wanted to ask me out in the garden, right? but felix was there, and... jesus christ. jeongin, i’m so sorry.”

his cheeks flare red, but he also lets out a major sigh of relief that your laughter wasn’t a rejection. “yeah,” he says, a grudging smile climbing onto his face. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.”

you wipe your eyes again. “sorry for laughing. i didn’t mean to make fun of you or anything. i’d actually love to go out with you.” you smile. “really.”

“well, thank god for that.” jeongin huffs, cheeks still hot. “or i would’ve gotten this for nothing.” he holds out a small teddy bear. “this is for you.”

“oh.” you take it, eyes turning soft. “oh. no one...” you swallow. “no one’s ever given me something like this before.”

jeongin’s heart melts, it really does, seeing the slow, shy smile spread across your face as you hold the bear close. “thank you, jeongin.”

“you’re welcome,” he breathes, hardly able to find his words as the sun creates a stunning backdrop behind you as it begins to set. “happy valentine’s day, y/n.”

you smile wide, so wide. “happy valentine’s day, jeongin.”

[long-cosmos-overhead]

James Norrington x Reader

Prompt: I was thinking about this one for a while but if you're ever in the mood for writing PotC could you maybe do something with Barbossa or Norrington? Maybe something with a build up like a first kiss or the first time the character and the reader fight someone/something together by each other's side, and their coordination on the battlefield gets tested for the first time and perhaps it strengthens the connection or leads to taking certain measures like training/teaching how to use weapons and react under pressure

I’m going to split these into two parts this one is for Norrington the other will be for barbossa

(I do not own PoTC or its characters/ gif not mine)

Your hand gripped the hilt of the sword. If it were a warm sunny day the blade would’ve reflected the light back out into the vast port just like it did for the past few weeks. The sky was a dark grey possibly setting to rain making the atmosphere cold and dreary. The type of cold to get in your bones and latch on tight until the golden sun tore through the clouds again.

Your knuckles and fingertips turned a harsh red and your wrist ached from swinging the sword only to clash with his powerful defenses that returned in sending pain right up your wrist in swift pangs. You had concluded the moment James first swung at you, that you could never truly appreciate the extent of skill, concentration and pain it took to seem so effortlessly fluent in a field unless you yourself have tried to walk the same path with the same motive.

The more you attacked and defended from what would be fatal blows out on vast seas or faced with a man or woman with the intention to maim or kill, the more energy flowed out your body. You were drained. It felt like water passing from a stream downhill and into dry land most likely to never be seen again. You had improved since first starting you could barely lift a sword back then however your grip still faltered when you lost energy and your movements still became sloppy and delayed.

Your mind trailed away. A dangerous move much too dangerous. Once your mind and body was out of sync you had written your death sentence.

A kick to your legs dragged your mind back down. It was a harsh reminder that you had once again failed to meet your standards the reality knocked down the platform your stood on like a fire against wooden beams. You fell to the ground your sword clattering somewhere in the distance. Your hip instantly throbbed in pain, your wrist and elbow followed suit in acquainting themselves with the hard floor below you.

“Y/n!”

You hadn’t realised your face scrunched up in pain until you opened your eyes to meet the owner of the deep voice. James’ eyes wore worry like a new pair of shoes and his hand trailed inches away from your body before softly resting uncertainly on your cheek almost pleading you to react to his touch instead of pain.

“Y/n I am terribly sorry, I didn’t-”

Your words cut him off saving him an apology and you the salt being rubbed in the wound that you managed to be taken down by a kick to the legs.

“It’s fine James, I wasn’t paying attention, I’m at fault here.”

James picked you up from where you lay gently placing a hand round your arm and one under your waist. If anything standing up made it hurt a little more. Your eyes met James’ face, an almost unreadable expression settled on his features. Only a little readable emotion bled through. It read love however undertones of desperation and want. You weren’t sure what was going on and in all honesty you didn’t feel in the state of mind to be able to piece together such heavy emotions.

However you did pick up on how attractive he looked. Even fresh from a fight you couldn’t deny he was a beautiful man. The way the light caught his eyes and made them appear like the stars beaming in the dark. The way his facial features only seemed to compliment one another, the way he treated you as the most important and valued thing in his life. James Norrington was perfect to you.

James stared back at you and by all the grace of you gods he loved every part of you. The way your skin felt when it touched him, the way he could hold you, the way you made him feel safe and enough in such a plagued world. He was so proud of you. The way you picked up sword fighting the same way as his men once had despite the ridicule from ladies and hours of straining physical movements. James wanted you safe, as safe as you could be. He would always be there by your side to fight off evil but should the time come where he wasn’t he couldn’t even think of what he’d do without you.

His eyes wandered to your lips and it shook him at just how much he wanted to kiss you. To share all his love through such intimacy and feel your body against his and despite the looming cloud that stole all your energy and the dull throb in your side you wanted the exact same.

You two were entranced into a void where only each other existed, time slowed till the point where every little thing was almost slow motion and the intensity of the gases which you looked at each other were immeasurable. Your heart beat irregularly in your chest almost as if it were trying to meet James’ or to drag you closer and by all the power in the world you could not think to move away.

Nasty twangs of pain at your side bled into the void you and James got caught in. Your face suppressed the obvious uncomfortableness that seemed to follow blunt force injuries however as much as you tried James noticed. He had a thing for noticing things. He never let on that he observed far more than the average man or he picked up inconsistencies but you knew.

“Y/n if I may.”

He reached out a hand for you to take asking permission to touch you and lead you to your home. No matter how much you protested he must be tired, James always walked you home. He wanted to know you were safe and be able to share some sort of intimacy with you, to slip his fingers between yours and warm your cold hands.

It may not have seemed like much holding his hand but even the most simplistic touch from James was euphoric. Some days you walked down cobbled streets laughing, today James was pretty silent just focusing on you and on the way you walked with a slight limp to your step. James felt guilty, a growing guilt that thrived the more he looked at you. He shouldn’t have swiped your legs it was not only wrong in terms of fighting with honour - it was misconduct, it was cheating. However his mind wasn’t all too concerned with that. His priory, his true priority was that he had hurt you. He never loved anyone the way he loved you even if you hadn’t kissed yet but that was no way to treat you especially since he is supposed to make you feel safe.

You looked over at James. His strong features never failing to entrance you. You were more than disappointed when you reached your door. Your house was pale in comparison to James’ yet he never seemed to mind. Before you knew him you assumed he was wealthy, commanding and rather uptight however you discovered none of the sort. He was kind and ever so gentle uncaring if he was seen away from well kept and otherwise anything he wouldn’t be associated with. He’d even offered money for upkeeps or repairs yet still left it after you declined.

“I trust you will be safe here Y/n.”

“I will always be safe at my own door, James you need not worry.”

He took your hand in his lightly pressing his lips to your knuckles trying to ignore how cold and tense you seemed. However he failed to notice how your muscles relaxed under his touch and how your eyes almost sparkled from how it felt as if you had been flushed with serotonin.

The feeling ebbed away as quick as it came when he walked away. His long coat that wrapped around his shirt fluttering at the end from the wind. You didn’t like being away from him it felt as if a part of you left with him even if it were only for a few hours. You couldn’t let him just leave. The kiss to your hand was like a spoonful of magic but you wanted more. It seemed selfish but you’d never loved anyone the way you loved him.

“James.”

He turned round to met with your arms around his waist and your body against his chest. He felt happy. Much happier than he’d ever felt you in his hold felt right and for once he could look around the port and see something beautiful. His arms came around your body pressing you a little closer to him. James was warm much warmer than you expected yet he felt far warmer with you despite the cold taking claim to you. It was like the warmth spread across his whole body. He was utterly in love with you.

Neither of you wanted to pull away but eventually you did but this time even when the cold settled back in your body you felt comfortable. He made you dizzy on love.

“Goodnight Norrington.”

It took him a while to break from his lovesick trance.

“Goodnight Y/n.”

You lay in your bed, the soft sheets encasing you like battle armour braving the war against the cold. Yet it seemed like a losing battle your fingertips red and your breath releasing from your mouth as white whisps, the way you imagined a soul would part from its physical being. A shaky breath parted your lips as you rubbed your hands together in hope that the friction would spark some ounce of warmth. Faint drops of rain hammered in the distance, the first few drizzles making way for an inevitable harsher forecast and despite the rain making you feel that bit colder and worried for the wood of your house you felt calm.

You turned on your side. The rustling of sheets almost silenced by the downfall outside. The last pieces of warmth you owned were slowly leaving your body. However the only thing you could focus on was how it would feel to be in James’ embrace. You wished to lay in bed with him and instead of slow dancing with the bitter cold you would be embraced in his warmth. To be completely domestic in each other’s arms. James made you feel warm. A nice warm like bathing in the soft evening sunlight. Your lips tugged upwards slightly and your hands rubbed together once more to grasp the heat amoung the cold before the white whisps parted your lips and wrapped around the candles orange flame releasing darkness through your room.

You awoke with a hammering at your door. It was clearly not a sophisticated knock at the time you weren’t even sure it was a knock however it woke you up immediately. Light shone through the gaps in the wall illuminating strips of your skin. You heard the shouts of men and the screams of woman. Metal on metal rung in your ears until the silence of death were clear, dominating any other sound you could hear.

You shakily stood up, eyes still fixed on the same spot as earlier. You shifted on your feet slightly tripping on the uneven floorboards that was until you heard the distinct voices of the navy men.

“Groves, Mullroy man the east ports.”

James. Something about his voice hit something within you. All your nerves that froze you in fear dissipated. They weren’t replaced by rationality if anything blind need to help, not just James but every man, woman and child took the main stand.

The hilt of your sword gleamed in the dreary light beconing you deeper into your mind with its persuasive grip. The vision and need blurring its lines to rally your body to take the cold hilt of the blade into your hand.

You didn’t acknowledge how the cold metal gripped you back however rushing outside your house you felt bare to the world. You felt small like you were back in your mothers arms again. Men were fighting left and right, some laying on the floor clutching dyed clothing. Smashed glass and splintered wood covered any remaining road. In the distance you heard the fire of guns and cannons which, had they been any closer, would’ve reigned superior to your hearing.

Strangled shouts and chokes were no longer shielded by the walls that you lay in and for a minute it was already all too much. The thought of James and the ever present survival instincts kept you from cowardice and you took your first step into the heat of the fight.

James boot kicked against the chest of its opponent. Water bled through the thin shirt and for a split second he seemed dazed enough for James to get the upper hand. Yet his mind and body were travelling in different wave lengths, his body urging for defence as desperate as a drowning man but his mind was focused on you. James was practically pacing from worry. You were alone without him or anyone to watch your blind spot. Even your home was bordering on the ever expanding outskirts of the gruesome battle and he’d seen firsthand how vicious and merciless pirates were, if you got caught you would not be spared.

The blade swiped all too close to his eyes slicing a stay stand of hair parting it from the others. James sword clashed on the second offence and continued to create the devils music until the blade was wedged in the oppositions lower abdomen. Shock contorted to pain and for a moment his eyes cleared and it was just two men with complex lives staring at each other. It was perhaps the most cruel curse that only a step away from death were people remorseful. His eyes held the heaviest emotions until they glassed over with nothingness. His body fell limp and he stared without seeing. James tugged his arm removing the support on the body allowing the man to finally rest.

James’ head whipped around in every direction he was surrounded by chaos but he needed you, by his side or not he needed to know you were safe.

Your body ached worse than you’d ever felt previous. A gash at your side created a passage for blood to freely travel out of and you wished you stayed in the safety of your home. You were almost fully doubled over in pain and your hand pressed against the growing red stain on your white shirt. The pirate infront of you grinned baring his gold teeth you could smell the alcohol on his breath and his movements read tipsy yet experienced with the blade. You knew the final hit was coming.

You surged any bit of energy that still remained within you to block the attack. Both swords clashing together sending ugly throbbing pains through your hand and wrist, they faired far worse than the ones while training. You barely saw the confusion on the pirates face, he was a rather big and muscular man easily outmatching you. You swiped your foot hitting the back of his knee sending him to the floor where your blade struck true.

You couldn’t tell how long or far you’d been walking through the carnage. Puddles rippled and quaked beneath your foot. Your sword gripped in your hand, the hilt somewhat warmed however still plagued with a different kind of a cold. Your wound had since clotted somewhat just not enough to offer taking away the need for medical care. Your hand had been placed at your side so long it too was beginning to cramp and lose its abilities. Fights were ugly affairs and you just wanted James.

James had been searching for you for longer than his liking. His stress and worry grew each passing second he traced the port unable to find you. Tears sprung to his eyes, he was overwhelmed sometimes the love he held for you overwhelmed him. Being faced with a hideous reality of losing you without even sharing a kiss coupled with the ever growing pit of fear and frustration never ceased to tip him closer and closer into the dangerous territories of his mind.

James blinked back the moisture in his eyes forming a warm uncomfortable gloss over his waterline. His chances of holding you once more grew thinner and thinner thoughout the fight and if it were a physical concept he may as well be walking on string. Pirates swung at him left and right most clearly tipsy and some outright drunk which lessened the danger equipped to them. They had since taken their retreat leaving devastation upon the port but leaving immeasurable torment within James.

“James.”

Your breath was strained, the rise and fall of your chest tortured your side. Your body bent at such an angle it seemed as if you had been sliced in two but you found him you finally had him.

He was disheveled, his hair fallen out of place to hang loosely infront of his eyes, clothes wet and sticking to his body at odd angles creating little shadows patterning his chest, his body was tired and his eyes still searching for the comfort of finding a lost thing so close to your heart. But he was beautiful.

The second the words parted your lips James turned around glossy eyed and mouth slightly parted. He felt his body lose hidden tension he didn’t realise he held onto. His demeanour shifted from relieved to grief stricken once his eyes laid on the red of your shirt. After the red pattern revealed itself to his eyes, the rest followed; the way your body shook in the bitter cold, how the tiredness trickled from your skin, how pleading you seemed to be relieved from such a horrific ordeal.

James couldn’t even acknowledge himself gravitating towards you until you were in his arms. He too shook however out of pure fear for your condition.

“My love, oh god.”

His words were jumbled as his hand ghosted over the wound at your side unsure to touch you or not. His mind too scared and filled with adrenaline to think logically.

“Y/n-,”

His words died in his throat when he felt you launch yourself into his embrace. His chest sparked like a flame kissing wood and fuel was generously added when you buried yourself deeper into his warmth. He had you in his arms right where he yearned for you to be.

“James,”

Your voice came out weaker than you anticipated and tears gathered in your eyes.

“I went out for you.”

James felt his heart fill with pure love. You had trained before but going to battle among pirates was an entire new level. He knew then as he stood with you in his arms that you were his keeper.

His hand gently traced the outskirts of your wound, it had almost entirely clotted itself up now, giving James some peace of mind however he still dare not touch you to cause more harm.

“Does- does it hurt, my love.”

His fingers traced around your skin sending electric through your body despite having barely grazed it.

“A little but I would suffer a thousand times if it meant I could come back to you.”

James couldn’t resist himself any longer your words touched something so deep within him breaking down the wall that restrained him from you. His hand came to slide around your lower back and the other around the back of your shoulders perfectly avoiding anything that could cause you pain. He tugged you towards him, his grip so tight and protective yet gentle and considerate. His lips connected with yours and if you could describe how you felt it would be as if all the warmth and love in the world channeled through your body at once. It was a simple kiss nothing alluding but full of passion and love, the ultimate outlet for all the events that took place a short time ago.

When the two of you parted you were left dizzy searching for air get already addicted to the feeling you had felt in such sheer quality.

“Come back with me,” he almost pleaded. “I want to keep you safe at least for tonight.”

You responded by leaning further into him your mind and body were exhausted yet somewhere in the back of your mind there was an urge. James saved your life, if it weren’t for his countless hours spent teaching you defence and offense and his constant patience you would surely have not survived.

“James, thank you,”

He looked down a slight bit confused for a moment.

“If it weren’t for you I’d surely be dead.”

“I’d spend the rest of my life teaching you if it meant you were safe.”

@lau-rae-lei

[artificialqueens]

All Shades of Pink (Rosé/Denali/Olivia) - Mar

Denali and Olivia spend Valentine’s day together while Rosé is on tour. Rosé sends Denali a gift, and it changes Olivia’s perspective.

Valentine’s date brunch had been simultaneously the best and worst idea of Denali’s week. She felt sated and happy, but God, the weight of the world sat on her stomach. Now, as she lay her head on Olivia’s lap on the living room couch, the day’s warmth clouded her mind and called her to sleep. Her girlfriend was threading her fingers through Denali’s loose braids, pulling them apart, but the movements were getting lazier and slower. Denali opened her eyes -when had she closed them?- and found the cute face Olivia made when she was sleepy. Her speech was getting quieter, eyes fluttering closed, her whole body clearly gearing up for a midday nap. And Denali so wanted to join her, but…

“Liv, I can’t fall asleep,” she whispered, mindful not to startle her. She slid her hand on Olivia’s cheek, flushed from the half-asleep state, and made the girl’s eyes focus on her own. “The package will be here any minute, I need to be awake to get it.”

Olivia shook off the drowsiness, curls bouncing with the movement.

“I’m up, I’m up. Not tired at all, see?” she said, blinking the sleep off her eyes.

Denali smiled and curled her hand behind Olivia’s neck, bringing her down for a soft kiss.

“Did they give you a time frame for when it would get here?”

“Only that it’d be after twelve. That’s why I rushed us home after brunch. I’m sorry about that,” Denali apologized sincerely for the hundredth time.

“For the hundredth time, it’s okay,” Olivia smiled, rolling her eyes. She laced the fingers of her free hand with Denali’s, over her stomach. “You miss her.”

Denali turned to the side and buried her face on Olivia’s thighs, half to hide the puppy eyes she was tired of making and half to breathe in the lotion Olivia put on her legs every morning.

“I know,” she whined. “And I know she’s so happy when the company’s touring, and it’s only two more weeks, and she’s been so attentive and calls me every day, even though she’s super busy, but…” she trailed off, looking up at her girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Olivia replied, playing with Denali’s hair. “I know.” She grabbed the end of Denali’s braid and used it to tickle her nose, making Denali pull back laughing.

“Although, this Valentine’s day has been the easiest to schedule in years.”

Olivia grinned, tongue between her teeth.

“I can’t complain about a full day with you. Remember our first Valentine’s day?”

Denali groaned.

“Rosé and Denali, romantic breakfast from eight to nine. Rosé goes to work, Olivia picks up Denali and they go on a mind-blowing date at the skate ring,” she listed.

“You just wanted to show off.”

“I wanted to impress you,” Denali corrects, giggling. “I also had a class to teach right after, very convenient because I had a dinner date with Rosé at seven sharp, then we ran home, she switched one gorgeous dress for a dress just as gorgeous and twice as slutty, before Mik picked her up to go clubbing, for their first Valentine’s day. Then you texted me goodnight, ‘cause you’re a babe and can’t get enough of me,” she said, kissing Olivia’s thigh.

“And we fell asleep talking, I remember.” Olivia’s smile grew dreamy at the memory. “It was an exhausting day.”

Denali rubbed the heel of her hand over her eyes.

“I had nightmares about our color-coded schedules.”

“How would polyamory work without Google Calendar?”

“Hmmh. But I’m happy with today’s schedule.”

“Package, nap, movies and the taco truck at the park. Perfect day.”

The doorbell rang and Denali shot up from the couch to get it. Olivia stood on her knees on the edge of the couch, hearing Denali give her information to the delivery person before shutting the door. She reentered the living room, beaming, doing a happy dance on her socks while she held the box tightly like it was Rosé herself.

Olivia squealed at the sight and jumped off the couch to plant a loud kiss on Denali’s cheek.

“Open it! I’ll give you some privacy. I gotta pee the tub of lemonade we had earlier.”

Olivia left the living room, thoughts on the lovey-dovey look in Denali’s eyes. She decided to take off her makeup and moisturize, to give her more time alone with her gift.

When she came back out, Denali was not where she’d left her.

“Nali?”

“In here!”

Olivia followed the voice to the bedroom and found her sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking over a spread of candy, trinkets, heart shaped baubles and, held close to Denali’s chest, a stack of postcards with handwritten notes on them. Olivia’s heart warmed at the sight, then flipped when she saw Denali’s smile, wavering from the tears held back.

“It’s one postcard from every city they’ve been to,” she explained. “She wrote about something that reminded her of me from each place.” Denali placed each card on the duvet with care. Olivia sat down next to her, but averted her gaze from the notes. Some things were meant to be kept between two people.

She rested her head on Denali’s shoulder and admired the spread, so lovingly picked, so abundant it covered half of the bed.

“This is beautiful, Dee, I’m so happy for you,” she said, smiling against her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Denali jolted from under her and stretched across the land of candy.

“There is more,” she said.

“More?” Olivia asked, puzzled. “Baby, I don’t know if you can fit more in this apartment.” Her eyes trailed over the shelves in Denali’s room, crowded with medals and trophies and toys, and, to Olivia’s delight, her own current knitting project, and the book Rosé had been reading last.

“No need,” said Denali, sitting back and placing a box on Olivia’s lap. “This one’s for you.”

“Oh, baby, you already got me the perfume I wanted. We agreed on just one gift,” Olivia protested half-heartedly. Denali’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“It’s not from me,” she said, tapping the card on the box. “Read it!”

Olivia opened the card and, sure enough, it wasn’t Denali’s handwriting. But it was almost as familiar.

Liv:

You’re walking sunshine. I know your brain is shaped like a candy heart, and, if auras exist, yours is bright pink. This holiday seems tailor made for you, so it’s only fair that you’re celebrated.

Thank you for being a true friend, a great meta, and a total sweetheart.

Happy V-Day!

-Rosé

Olivia stared at the lines, tracing them over and over to make sure she had not misread anything.

Sunshine. Rosé had called her “sunshine”, and “sweetheart”.

The pet names branched off into new lines of thought, but Olivia cut them short. She opened the box, and gasped.

Her favorite chocolates from childhood, impossible to get in their city. Rosé must have found them on tour… And she’d remembered from, God, what was it, six months ago? Olivia had mentioned the chocolates in passing at a gathering, over daiquiris at Rosé’s place. She’d felt so happy to be there, so easily welcomed.

“Oh, oh, wait,” Denali’s voice interrupted the memory. “I know that face. It’s your crush-face.”

“Pfff, I don’t have a crush-face!” Olivia dismissed. Denali just turned to look at her better.

“Yes, you do! And you’re blushing!” she grinned. “Liv, do you have a crush on my girlfriend?” Denali gasped in faux shock, but it still made Olivia blush harder. “You do!” Denali threw her arms in the air, full on bouncing in her seat, and made some things fall off the bed in her excitement. “Oh, shit.” She slid off the bed to find them. It gave Olivia the moment she needed to gather her thoughts.

Did she have a crush on Rosé?

She definitely liked her. She was smart, and so funny, and had welcomed Olivia with open arms the minute Denali had brought her into their lives. She was a good friend, and a good meta.

But she was also gorgeous, and confident, and clearly attentive and caring. Olivia just hadn’t expected to be on the receiving side of that. Only on the sidelines, watching Denali bask in the attention.

But… but sometimes, Rosé would wink at her, or give her a smile just so, and it made Olivia wonder.

Denali peeked up from her spot on the floor and placed back the few sweets that had fallen. She then hooked her chin on the duvet and carefully eyed Olivia. She was giving her time. As much as she teased, as blunt as she was, Denali always knew how to wait. Olivia loved her more every day, she was certain. She felt it sometimes, in the way her rib cage expanded with each breath, as if to make room for the feeling. At the moment, she let one breath fill her lungs, and let it fall from her mouth with her doubts.

“How would- I mean, what would we do?” Olivia asked, hoping her girlfriend could fill in the blanks in the question. From the way Denali shrugged her shoulders, lifting a weight from Olivia’s, she could.

“You would do what you feel comfortable doing, just like we did. And Rosie and I before that, and Rosie and Mik later. This wouldn’t be any different just ‘cause you’re both dating me.”

There was pride in Denali’s smile at that statement. There was also simplicity, like she was so sure of those facts, like it was all that simple. And Olivia believed her.

“We’re getting ahead of ourselves, though, I think?” she still said, shrinking into the mattress a little. “A gift is not a declaration.” She clutched the box a bit tighter.

“A Valentine’s gift,” Denali reminded her. Then, she blew a raspberry. “I’d love to play matchmaker, baby, but I’ve been told by many, many people that I’m not allowed to meddle because I’m a force of chaos. So…” she trailed off, eyes wandering around the room, clearly waiting for questions. And Olivia just had to give into her.

“So…? What are you not telling me?”

“That Rosé is not huge on Valentine’s Day. She doesn’t get gifts for her friends. Ever. And she firmly believes it’s a day reserved for a special, specific kind of bond,” Denali explained, looking pointedly between Olivia and the box in her hands. When Olivia was about to protest, she continued: “And, and! Even without the gift, I’ve seen how she looks at you. And I’ve heard how she talks about you.

Denali pressed her smile against her arms, perched on the bed. She looked at Olivia with that “teenager at a sleepover” gleam in her eyes, which she got whenever the topic of crushes came up. “There is something there. And I’m not just saying that because I think it’d be insanely hot to watch my two smoking girlfriends make out.”

Olivia laughed, tension seeping off her body in waves. She tapped Denali’s nose like she was a rebellious puppy.

“If we let you watch, you creep.”

Denali’s eyes grew wide.

“So you’re thinking about it?” she asked. Olivia nodded, decidedly.

“I’m thinking about it.”

Denali let out a squeal and climbed up onto the bed, to wrap herself around Olivia in a hug.

“Fun!”

She cupped Olivia’s cheeks and kissed her slow and sweet.

“Now, I still have the rest of Valentine’s Day to spend with my beautiful girlfriend, watching dumb movies and eating our way through this pile of candy. Let’s get to it!”

[halfway-happyyy]

An Invisible String - Part 3

AN: This is something I’ve been working on for quite a while now, and it is a little different than my usual pieces. It will probably be about three or four installments. If you enjoy it (or even if you don’t) (I don’t do too many chaptered pieces… like, ever) please feel free to send feedback. Warnings include: mentions of suicidal tendencies, depression, anxiety, past mentions of domestic physical and mental abuse. Loosely inspired by the music video for ‘High Hopes’ by Kodaline.

Synopsis: Depressed, suicidal and recently single Alexander Skarsgård is at the end of his rope. But he is about to find out that no matter where you come from, what your pain looks like, or what your truth is… The universe will always fight for souls to be together.

Part 1 Part 2

Specific trigger warnings for this chapter: tw: mentions of past domestic abuse

Alexander Skarsgård had never been in the habit of letting fate amass space in his life. As far as he was concerned, which was not extremely far at all, everything that had happened to him thus far in his life was just exactly the way it was supposed to be. People left; it was something that he had grown accustomed to a lifetime ago. Maybe they ended up coming back, maybe they did not- regardless, it ceased to be his business a long time ago. He had made a silent promise to Thea that evening, under the glow of the pub lamp, and with her small hand tucked into his much larger one, like so many times in the past. He promised her that as long as he still had the air in his lungs, he would never chase another ghost again.

“Thank you for dinner this evening,” Thea smiled. Alexander watched her in the low light of the hallway lamp. Her hand was poised on the round, brass knob of the bedroom door and he found himself aching to ask her to sleep next to him. Though sex could not be further from his mind, the thought of having her lay next to him, the sheer warmth that would radiate off her seemed too sweet an opportunity to pass up.

Alexander bent his head toward her, a small smile pulled at the edges of his lips. “It wasn’t much I’m afraid, but it was nice to spend an evening with you, Thea.”

“Goodnight, Alex. Sleep well.”

He watched her disappear into the room, listened for the now-familiar sound of the lock turning on the other side. Though he wondered briefly why she was still in the habit of doing that, he could understand it better now. “Goodnight Thea.” Retreating to the stillness of his room, he sat perched on the edge of the bed while raindrops raced each other down the length of his windowpane. He let his mind wander back to an hour ago, to the secluded booth at the back of the pub. He allowed himself to revel in the feeling of her weight against him, of the tantalizing familiarity of it all. He remembered thinking that he could be content to stay like that for the remainder of his days. That if nothing else in the world made sense to him at all, she was the one thing that did. Eventually, when the rain had dissipated, he stood from the edge of his bed and rid himself of the days clothing until he was clad only in a pair of black briefs. Pulling back the edge of the charcoal comforter, he slid into the blissfully cool sheets and pulled the blanket back over his bare chest. He stared up at the darkened ceiling above him for what felt like hours, hoping in vain like every night, that sleep would come for him fast and deep. He could not be sure how long he was under before a blood-curdling scream ripped through the blanketed silence of the night. It roused him immediately and he shot up in bed like a cannon, his chest heaving under the duress of equal parts fear and adrenaline. A slick sheen of perspiration covered every square inch of his body as he fought to take a proper breath of air. Again, it happened, and his stomach dropped with dread. “Thea,” Tearing the covers from his body, he leapt out of bed, and tore open his own door, frantic and wide awake. “Thea, are you alright?” He pounded on her door and waited for a response. When he received none, he pressed his ear right up against the paint-chipped wood and listened carefully. She was sobbing so hard now, that she could barely get a proper breath in.

“No, don’t- Please, no!” She pleaded, her voice was raw from screaming, and painfully desperate.

“Thea, I need you to open this door right now.” Alexander’s voice was firm but teetered precariously on the edge of breaking. Again, another earth-shattering scream emanated from beyond the door and he knew immediately what he needed to do next. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back into the hallway and in one swift motion, came charging at it with his leg out. The door stood less of a chance than he thought and shattered from the lock and hinge on impact, swinging open and falling against the closet. His hand immediately went to the light switch to the left of where he stood, he flicked it on and squinted as it bathed the room in a soft, yellow glow. He was not sure what he expected to find when the light found her- was not sure if an intruder had made its way through Thea’s window now, or if they had broken in earlier. When his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized that she was alone. She was sat up straight in her bed, her legs curled up tight beneath her chin. Her shoulders shook silently under the weight of her sobs and Alexander immediately rushed to her side and threw his arms around her body. “Shh, it’s okay Thea, I have you.” He rocked her against him for an unknowable amount of time, placed periodic kisses to her temple and cheek. He tried to brush the tears from her face, but they were merely replaced by fresh ones moments later. “I’ve got you Thea. You’re safe with me.” He could not be sure how many times he repeated himself in the growing morning light. He just desperately needed her to know that he was there, that he was not about to go anywhere and that she was not alone. Thea eventually grew silent right around the time that her clock read ‘4:47 AM’, her soft, measured breaths told him that she had finally given in to sleep, and he was relieved. An hour passed after that, and he gingerly moved away from her to return to his own bedroom, but she stirred only slightly to say,

“Please don’t go.”

He hesitated in the threshold, but could hear the earnestness in her tone, could hear the precise fragility of it, and he nodded his head. “Okay, Thea.” Padding around to the vacant side of the bed, he slid in behind her and pulled the quilted blanket up over their bodies. Only when he was certain that she was asleep again, did he let his own heavy eyelids slide shut. His sleep, like most nights, was heavily fragmented by dreams broken up by the sound of Thea’s scream that he could not hide from no matter how hard he tried. When he awoke a few hours later, she was still fast asleep. A golden yellow sun shone through the cracks in the curtains above her bed and shone beams of warm light over her sleeping figure. Like this, it was difficult to imagine the terror that had plagued her only mere hours earlier. His gaze drifted from her hair, which cascaded down her freckled shoulders and stopped somewhere near the middle of her back. A small, dark shadow lay just beneath a piece of her hair that caught his eye. Alexander reached toward her to brush the hair away from her back, and swallowed hard. Bruises of all shapes and sizes scattered her back like a warzone. Some seemed about a week fresh, violet and utterly angry, while some were almost fully healed, the only evidence that they were there at all was in the faded yellow ring that that encircled them. He let his fingertips traverse the many bruises, but was careful where he touched her marred skin, for he could not be sure if they still caused her physical pain or not.

“It’s okay, Alex.” Thea whispered.

Alexander’s hand dropped from her back and he discovered that any moisture in his mouth had long since evaporated, and he swallowed hard again. “Did he do this to you?”

“I’m okay now, Alex.” Thea whispered again.

“This is so far from okay, Thea.” His stomach lurched, and he wondered briefly if he would be sick. He closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths, and the moment passed. In its place, he considered for a second what it might feel like to wrap his fists around the neck of the man who had subjected her to this, to see the life slowly fade from his eyes… Alexander shook his head and cleared his throat. “This is not okay, Thea.” He repeated.

She rubbed a hand up and down the length of her arm slowly, as if to ward off a sudden chill. “I’m safe now, Alex. I feel safe here. With you.”

For now, and despite the immense trepidation that he felt, he would have to accept that.

“What do you feel like doing today, Thea?” They had risen for the day in silence and in separate rooms. Breakfast had also been a quiet affair, the urge to say anything had not plagued either of them. He was tired, but it was the kind of tired that seeped into his bones and made him weary of his own home. He thought that it might be beneficial for them both to have some reprieve from the house today.

She glanced up from the steaming cup of coffee in her grasp and shrugged. For whatever reason she had gravitated to that one cracked mug since she had arrived, and Alexander simply thought of it as hers now. “It’s a beautiful day,” She mused. “Reminds me of when my father used to take my sister and I to the beach.” Alexander followed her gaze out the window, at the glorious shade of blue of the mid-morning sky. He watched the trees in the backyard sway in the early June breeze, and thought for a moment that he might really like to be near the ocean today.

“Why don’t we go?” He asked.

She swallowed the last sip of her coffee, her eyes wide in mild surprise. “Beg your pardon?”

Alexander shrugged. “Let’s pack a lunch and head to the beach today.” He watched in awe as her face curved up into a wide smile, and he figured that maybe someday he would make a list of all the things he said that made her smile like that. “What do you say?”

“Sure, Alex.”

He lived about a two-hour drive from the beach in which Thea had referred to earlier, and he found that he was grateful to be able to put some mileage between himself and the unsavory morning that they had just endured. Though he remained proud of the house that he and his wife had once shared, he figured that he might like to sell it someday soon. That he would like to settle somewhere a little closer to Stockholm, somewhere a little closer to the comfort of his family. Thea had fallen asleep fifteen minutes into their drive and Alexander found that he had to fight to keep his attention on the road and on the traffic around him. She slept peacefully for the time being, which he was thankful for. When the vehicle trundled to a halt at a spot in the gravel parking lot thirty minutes later, he was surprised to see that it was mostly empty save for one or two couples scattered haphazardly along the shoreline. “Thea,” He murmured and rested a warm hand atop her forearm. When her eyes remained closed, he pressed a little further and gave her a small shake. “Thea, we’re here.” She inhaled deeply and as her eyes slid open, Alexander watched her pupils constrict against the sudden barrage of light. She smiled sleepily at him, and it was all he could do not to lean over and kiss her deeply.

“Hi, Alex.”

“Hello,” He smiled back at her. “You ready?”

She nodded her head and unbuckled her belt, letting herself out of the side door and stretching her arms high above her head. Alexander followed her suit, and grabbed a couple of towels, a thick checkered blanket, and the picnic basket from the backseat. He followed her down to an uninhabited stretch of sand where he shook the blanket out and watched the ocean breeze pick it up and carry it out before him. He settled it down over the sand and sat down, setting the wicker basket off to his side. His eyes slid shut as he raised his face to the heavens and inhaled deeply the briny scent of saltwater. To him, it was nostalgic and immediately comforting. Thea stood a few feet away at the water’s edge; she had one of his worn, blue beach towels draped loosely around her shoulders that billowed out behind her in the wind.

“God, it’s beautiful isn’t it?”

Of course, she was referring to the view before her; to the vastness of the Baltic sea as it stretched on for what felt like forever before her very eyes. But his only view now, and certainly the only one that really mattered, was of her solitary figure at the waters edge. “It sure is,” He murmured. He watched her approach the water with trepidation and though it was June, it was only just, and he knew that the temperature would be far from comfortable. “Go on then.” He encouraged her.

She turned back to him with a smile and let the towel fall from her shoulders. Alexander watched the wind carry it out a little further away, and finally set it down a few feet from where he sat. “This isn’t going to be like yesterday,” She giggled.

“Yeah? Well, we’ll see about that.”

She waded out a little further out into the ocean so that the water came up around the middle of her calves. “It isn’t warm.” She shivered.

Alexander laughed from his perch on the blanket. “Didn’t think it would be.”

“You don’t want to join me?” She asked with a wink.

Alexander glanced down at his jeans and shrugged his shoulders. “Would you like me to?”

She turned in the sand, and held a hand over her eyes to shield herself from the sun’s glare, and nodded her head. “As a matter of fact, I would.”

Alexander smiled and pushed himself up from the blanket. “Well alright then.” He stood in his spot and leaned down to roll up the bottoms of his jeans so that they sat snug just below his knees. He enjoyed the feeling of the sand between his toes, reveled in the feeling of the sun as it shone down on his back and basked him in a warm glow. He stepped into the frigid water without hesitation and joined her where she stood. For a moment he wrestled with himself on what he was about to do; the moment passed, and he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his hands falling to rest just below her sternum. He could not miss the way that her body immediately molded to his own, could not miss the contented sigh that exited her mouth as he held her to him. He placed a soft kiss to the top of her head and dipped his head lower so that his lips were mere inches away from the shell of her ear. “I’m happy that you found your way back, Thea.”

She turned in his arms, her gaze lingered on his lips, and then met his own and she smiled. “I’m happy too, Alex.” She reached up first, though it was difficult because her had feet begun to sink in the sand. Alexander tightened his grasp around her waist and held her to him as their lips connected in a kiss that had been in the works since the beginning of everything. It was the innate push and pull of a love that dwindled a lifetime ago, but never fully burnt out. She tasted so familiar to him that it caused an ache to twinge somewhere deep in his heart and he deepened the kiss. She had found her way back to him and he had no idea who to thank for it. They held each other for a long while, both equally needing the comfort that the embrace brought them. “Are you hungry? How about some food, hm?” Alexander felt her shiver against him, and rubbed his hands up and down the length of her freckled arms to create warmth. He smiled when he felt her nod her head against his chest. They walked hand in hand to the towel a few feet from the shore and Thea settled down to eat her sandwich in between the crook of his open legs. They had not packed much in the way of food; two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a bag of multicolored garden-grown carrots, and two water bottles. It was enough, but Alexander found that his appetite for food was nearly nil. Instead, he was simply content just to watch her eat as he held her to him, his mind still buzzing from the kiss that they had just shared. She finished her food in silence and when she was done, Alexander cleared his throat. “Thea?”

“Hm?” She murmured.

“The situation this morning…” He could feel her stiffen against him and he winced. “You were dreaming about him, weren’t you?”

She hesitated before she nodded her head. “Yeah, I was.”

“Does that happen often?”

Thea started to wring her hands in her lap- a nervous habit that she had yet to outgrow. “More often than I’d like,” She admitted quietly. “Last night was the worst one yet, though.”

Alexander hugged her tightly to him, his lips ghosted the top of her head. “You’re safe with me now, you know, that right?” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “As long as we’re together- you’re safe. I would never let anything happen to you, Thea.”

She rubbed a hand reassuringly over the top of his forearm. “I know, Alex.”

They remained at the beach until the sun began to sink low over the Baltic sea, the shore now entirely void of everyone except an old man and his golden retriever. Alexander gazed at Thea from his spot at the blanket. The pockets of her jean shorts bowed out at the sides, bursting with the tiny treasures that she had stumbled across. He watched her pick up rocks of all different shapes and sizes, watched her run her fingers over the smooth ridges in scattered shells. Alexander watched the old man toss a piece of driftwood out into the ocean and his four-legged companion dive in after it, happily. A twinkle of familiar laughter sounded in the distance and he saw Thea drop to her knees in the sand, her arms wrapped loosely around the dog’s neck as he waggled his blonde tail in unbridled excitement. “Hi Max,” He heard Thea giggle. She exchanged a few words with the man and with a sincere goodbye, scratched the dog once more behind his ears and made her way for the blanket. “Did you see that dog?” She asked, breathlessly. Alexander did not think she had ever looked more beautiful. Her hair was windswept from the ocean breeze, her cheeks pink from the slight, early evening chill. But best of all, he loved the way her eyes twinkled merrily when she spoke of the new friend she had made.

“I did see that dog, Thea. He looked like the best boy.”

She beamed at him. “He was, Alex.”

Thea had fallen asleep on the ride home like Alexander had predicted that she would, and mid-sentence about the dog that she had just fallen head over heels for. He had hardly minded a bit, because minutes before she nodded off, she took hold of his hand in hers, and did not let go until the car glided to a halt in front of the house. “Thea, we’re home.” He murmured and placed a kiss to her temple. As he carried her half-asleep figure into the house, he wondered for a moment if maybe he ought to leave a little more room for fate after all.

[hopefulsunshinegirl]

Runaway child

So I had a thought and then I wrote it down. What if because he walked away from one child that destiny was just like well tough luck mate here's another one. Please note that is it just based from the TV show. Have no idea if this will go down well but worth a try. It’ll be a father daughter relationship and super fuffy and I just really wanted some more soft Geralt. 

Title: Runaway Child 

Description: Don’t mess with destiny. A lesson Geralt will have to learn the hard way in the form of a tiny stubborn girl who has decided to be his new travelling companion. 

Warnings: None

Length: 1347 

The sun had set and her feet were aching by the time the Witcher stopped to set up camp. It had been a long day but thankfully the Witcher and his friend stayed on foot so she was able to follow them out of her town this morning, keeping a safe distance away as they made their way through the wood. Quietly, she settled down under a tree while they lit the fire, not close enough to feel the warmth of it but enough that she wasn’t completely surrounded by darkness. After a while the bard started playing a gentle melody seemingly to the Witchers annoyance. The calming notes drifted through the trees and almost of their own accord the girls eyes began to drop. She was relaxing further into the nook of the tree when the Witcher’s rumbling voice broke through the song startlingly her, “The night will be too cold without a fire.” She tensed at his words, holding as still as she could practically holding her breath in the now deadly silence.

“Which is of course why we have one Geralt. Are you not feeling well or are you just talking to Roach again?” The confusion is clear in the Bards voice as he replies, but the Witcher does not speak again. “Well alright…that wasn’t weird at all. Always knew you were a bit lacking up there but now you might have actually lost it.” He started to play again.

“We will do you no harm.”

“WHO are you talking to? Wait is someone there?” the bards voice rose in pitch as the girl listens nervously to the sound of leaves crunching under foot, “If I didn’t know any better I might think you were just trying to stop me playing.” He shouts as the fire light around the girl is blocked out by the very imposing, very tall form of the Witcher. Panicking, she jumps up and spins away as if to run, but a large hand catches the back of her cloak, picking her off the floor and stalking back toward the fire.  

“Put me down! What happened to no harm? Let me go, I haven’t done anything!” She struggles her voice slightly breaking in fear, before being unceremoniously dumped on the damp ground next to the bard. The Witcher sits himself opposite her, his orange eyes catching in the glow of the flames as they stare the girl down.

“A child. You found a child?” The bard directed his question across the fire, eyes wider than she thought possible, “Where did you even come from?” this question was for her, but she didn’t look away from the Witcher.

“She’s been following us all day.” He replied for her. The girl couldn’t tell if the man was cross with her or not, his voice always sounded the same.

“And you let her? Geralt,” the bard chastised, “she’s so small, you should have sent her back once you realised! This is no place for someone who cannot defend themselves.” He reached out towards her shoulders, but this time she was prepared and before he knew it had reached into her cloak and put a dagger between the two of them.

“I am not some helpless little girl.” She practically growls and the bard lowers his hands cautiously, “He didn’t let me do anything. I needed to leave.” She starts to explain, putting her weapon away, “You seemed like you knew where you were going. Thought it was a good place to start.” She looks back at the Witcher, but he does not respond, “When I saw you in the village I knew you could lead me out; the kind eyed stranger and his funny little friend who travel the continent helping people. Maybe they could help me.” The last bit is almost a whisper and suddenly she does feel small and helpless, releasing now she’d just put her destiny in their hands. If they were to send her away she would have nowhere to go and no one to call safe.

“Look here, I’m not his funny lit-”

“I don’t help people.” The Witcher interrupts now gazing into the fire.

“That’s not what the songs say.” She argues, but the Witcher just continues to stare at the flames. “I won’t be a burden. I’m used to looking after myself. I just want to get to somewhere else. I will stop following you if you want, but I shan’t be going back to that place” Stubbornly she crosses her arms and eyes the uninterested Witcher.

“Yes that sounds like a good plan. We’ll help you get somewhere safe, but we can’t be travelling with a child” His friend nods to himself sounding decided, but it is not his opinion she wants, especially as he’d just said the complete opposite of what the girl wanted. Silence descends upon the small camp, with each second she can feel the tension growing and her heart begins to fall. She starts to think the Witcher will agree with him and turn her away, and just as her eyes start to prickle with unshed tears he speaks.

“How old are you?” the question is so startling innocent and unexpected that she forgets for a moment that he was speaking to her.

“Oh,” she chuckles, “I’m (Y/N) and in 2 months I’m going to be 13” she proudly state, beaming up at the stoic man, “How old are you?”

“So you’re 12 then. That is much too young to leave home!” The bard throws is arms up and the girl glares at him about to start an argument, but the Witcher saves both of them the trouble by answering.

“I’m 97”

There’s a pause as she stares at him, “That’s old.”

“Yes,” he grunts.

“I bet you’ve be able to see the whole continent then.”

“Most.”

“See, that is exactly what I want to do. I guess you do know where you’re going” the girl starts to ramble taking off her bag and setting out a sleeping mat. “You’ll be able to show me everything,” a yawn escapes her as she lies down, “I should sleep. Tomorrow will be just as busy, yes?” not really expecting a reply, her eyes start to close. “Goodnight Witcher. Goodnight Bard.”

The night is silent with thought for a long time after the child falls asleep. Both men staring into the fire occasionally glancing towards her small figure illuminated in the dim glow. “Preciouses little thing.” Jaskier smiles, “Wonder what she’s really running from? You know-”

“Don’t start Jaskier”

“No it’s actually quite funny this. Despite how you try to deny destiny it really seems to want you to have a child. First the Child Surprise and now a runaway child. Maybe you were meant to be a father…” Jaskier looks up at Geralts scowling face, “or not…But you have to admit that it is weird it’s happened twice. What I don’t get is why didn’t you send her back to the village? Surely you knew she was following us?” He waited for a reply but the Witcher didn’t even look like he was listening. “Oh come on, you were answering her questions! Are you going to let her stay?” Jaskier practically demanded.

“She’s sleeping be quiet.” Geralt warned, eyeing the bundle for movement just in case she’d been disturbed by the Bards prattle. “I thought she would get bored following. I was wrong.”

“Amazing. A 12 year old is what makes you admit such a thing. Does that mean you’re keeping her? Because she didn’t give up?”

“Isn’t that how you managed it?” Geralt almost smiled at the thought.

“That’s different! I’m here for a purpose, who else will tell your heroic stories to the public. You need me. She is a child. She needs to be kept safe, we are not equipped to look after her, how will she mange on the road with us?”

“She’s already proved she can manage better than you,” he smirked at his friend, as he to lay down to sleep, “She came with a knife.”

Okay so I do have an idea of where I want this to go, but do you think I should continue?

[atinybitofau]

[PART 2] S A N ⇲ royal series au

RECAP: san is king of eden, you’re queen of elos under one nation with 7 other lone kings. and now you’re forced to go on a bonding retreat with san cause seonghwa told you to. enjoy boys and girls.

• series masterlist •

⇩ PART TWO ⇩, click here to read part one.

You bid adieu to your humble armored soldiers before unveiling the fur scarf you had thrown over your arms and back. Supper had come to an end and camp had been set up. Now you were going to get ready to share a tent with San for a night where you find him in his half naked glory, adjusting the straps to his cloth under garment pants.

Your heart races suddenly when he knows of your presence but thinks of nothing of it— something rare of your nobility, heart palpitations. A lack of respect and honor. Though, you somehow subbed attracted to it uncertain by your hidden desires, liquid-lacing your insides. You have your palms held together as you wait to greet the back facing King. A greeting you were taught to do by your late father even if you hate the honor you stand upon.

San moved effortlessly with his back muscles flexed in calm rebound. He laces back a loose fitted blouse of black silk before turning to you with hazy eyes. Your fingers play at your palms as you bow courteously at his highness, your eyes blinking wide at the ground with heavy anticipation.

“Princess, we need no sense of aristocracy in our quarters.” He chuckles you off though bowing his head when you raised yours. “We may be of an honorable class but we don’t need to implement them in the bedroom.”

Cheeky.

You sigh making your way to your hidden room in the tent, masked by only a sheer curtain of cloth. You could see his silhouette staring at your side of the shelter as you strip from your dress facing in that direction. God knows why you did it, but you don’t. (Hidden desire maybe). You changed into your new drawers and a past-knee cut night gown in that you would sleep in for the rest period. San clears his throat, his silhouette visibly moving now after watching you blindly undress.

Immediately you thought of his eyes. A picture your mind drew unintentionally while you had gotten ready for bed that one time he smiled may be the best thing that happened since you last saw your fathers.

So bright. Hiding so much pain. The only real emotion that can truly expose a person’s feeling with millions of muscles moving. A smile.

To that, you get into your cushioned bed.

“Princess.” You hear San mutter from opposite of the sheer wall between the both of you.

“Yes?”

“I’ll be blowing out the candles soon.”

“Yes. Thank you.” You mumble sleepily in your blanket. “It’s still quite early if you’d like to take a stroll.”

“You’d j-join me?”

Your slowly shutting eyes batted open and you stared at his shadow in pure horror.

Did you sound like you were inviting him?

“N-no.” You shoot up in your blankets with a red blotched face. “I meant for you— well it’s early so I though you’d want to walk around for a little before you sleep. Y-you can leave the light on is what I meant to say..”

He seemed disappointed with silence.

He sounded more stressed when he hurried out not even saying goodnight. You sigh feeling dumbed out by your own reply somehow finding San’s feeling of confusion curious.

You remember the boys telling me stories of their childhood. How San felt singled out and acted somewhat strange. San rarely spoke and when he did seeming indifferent by people’s responses. The way you see it, King San was just as human as any of you. If not, a little more. And he may as well have wanted bad things to happen to your father through intent.. but he was afraid. Just like everybody else. You couldn’t blame him for that.

Feeling restless now, you stand up from where you laid and slung on a warm robe and slip ins to follow the poorly lead individual on his night stroll.

Mingi was awake and stopped so forth. Eyebrows furrowed he asks, “Where are you off too, young lady?”

You smile at the taller man. “San wanted to take a stroll earlier. Did you see the direction he took from here?”

“Your grace, it’s far too dangerous to be frolicking on your own.” He insists pushing his sharp sword into it’s protector. “San can take care of himself.”

“And I’m sure I for my own.” You place your hands on the worried bachelor. “The sun is nearly up. Get some sleep, Mingi.”

“I’ll wait for you both to arrive back safely.” He says standing up with pride though bloodshot eyes reading exhaustion. “He mumbled something about seeing a cliff far off north. It’s probably where he’s headed.”

“I promise I won’t go wandering.” You hide your head under the hood of your robe and grab a weapon of choice. “If we don’t return till the sun reaches it’s highest point, I want you to send a rescue team. He couldn’t have gone that far off.”

“Please don’t say that.” He cringes. “A precaution is like waving a white flag.”

You chuckle at the boy and pull at his royal suit. “Mingi, I assure you I’ll be fine. Please get some rest.”

The boy looked uncertain, his eyes wavering in mine.

Mingi was— he’s someone you relied on in the past and someone who never failed to make you feel special.

You loved him in a special way. As far as your love goes at least.

You lay a soft kiss on his stubble cheek before walking off in the direction you think may be where San went.

With dawn upon you now, you could see well enough. You managed to catch a glimpse of a shadow and sounds of crunching dry grass near by. A few quick paces straight forward, you finally see San.

You vaguely remember what he wore before wanting to sleep but in the rising sun, he looked humble. He looked close to a royal but in a form of a free soul. His chin was pulled forward as he basked in the warmth of morning. He walks forth like a child with no sense of direction, dimples sucked in with a soft smile painted on his porcelain face.

You catch up eventually and the soles of your shoes crunching awoke his attention.

He snaps at you enguard with his sword obviously startled by your unannounced appearance. When you remove your hood off your head, he sighs in relief and bows slightly.

“Princess, don’t scare me like that.” He breaths. “I almost cut your head off.”

“I know you want to but let’s try to keep each other alive before we get back to Aurora.”

He coldly turns away from you and follows his initial steps forward. Frantic, you follow behind him like a lost puppy not wanting to get lost now that you’ve found what you were looking for: him.

“I must amend your navigation skills. It was a curvy path I took to get here.”

You glance up at him taking larger strides to catch up. “Well whatever path you took must’ve gotten you back on track. I’ve only walked a straight line. I’m terrible at directions.”

Seeing your struggle, San frigidly takes your balancing hands to help you through the uneven rocks.

You ignore the tumbles in your stomach before saying something else. “There was a cliff Mingi said that caught your attention. Is that where you were going?”

“I thought you didn’t want to accompany me on a stroll.” He shuts out your actually question with his own. “Change your mind out of guilt perhaps?”

“Please.” You snicker. “I was only afraid you’d get kidnapped.”

“I have doubts of your bravery, Princess.” He laughed at that cradling you as you. struggled more when the ground got steeper. “Though I must say for a woman, you have the persistence to get through.. rocky situations.”

Very cunning. “Always so endearing, King San.”

“If I must.”

You reach where you initially thought he’d end up, staring out into the wild sunrise with pure delight. You seemed hypnotized by nature’s beauty pulling at your dress to sprint towards the cliff. San basked in the warmth. You basked in the view.

Your kingdom was close to waters, dams and unfortunately with the weather conditions, rarely saw past an acre. You were ecstatic to see stranded villages and quaint homes that covered maybe parts of Aurora or maybe San’s Kalos Kingdom that was not too far off edge.

“Have you ever seen such a view?” You turned at San bouncing in your place. “It’s beautiful.”

San was quiet behind you. No sounds of movement, no sounds of whispers. You turn around with a beaming smile to see him laying across the ground with shut eyes.

Immediately your face gawks. “You can’t be serious, San.”

He turns at you and opens his eyes. “What did I do now?”

“The view is breathtaking and your just gonna sleep there the whole time?!”

He hums curtly and resumes his previous position. “Absolutely. I’m tired from basically carrying you here.”

Your jaw drops. “Did you just entail my weight, San-ssi?”

“Yes.” He confirms without further ado. “Yes I did.”

“You are seriously a royal pain in the ass.”

“Why don’t you come and lay here and see why I’m doing it instead of barking over there like a dog?”

You kick dead grass at him hoping he chokes on it.

“What was that for?!” He cried coughing out the dirt and specks that reached his face.

You cock your hips with your hand on top it and point a finger at him. “Have some decency, San. If a woman tells you to enjoy the view with her, you must. It’s all in the book.”

“What kind of— What in gods name— and WHO in their bloody right mind would intentionally write a book with those words specifically?”

“An intellectual.” You annunciate with a wide mouth.

“We have eyes to see, y/n.” He pans with seriousness, tiger eyes glaring at you with fuming frustration. “I can open them later before we go. I don’t need to enjoy a view. Especially that of with a woman.”

I roll my eyes nearly flicking him on the forehead. “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe god gave us nature to revel in? Not manipulate.”

“He gave it to us for health and well being. And gave us eyes to learn.” He retailiates huffing with his chest puffed. “Animals are our main resources. Plants give us life, sun gives us warmth, and the night our rest. There is no room for it’s beauty. It’s a fickle thing.”

“Nature is the most beautiful thing on this planet.” You firmly smile feeling satisfied with your answers before turning around to look at it. “Give me something more of that and maybe I’ll let you off.”

Silence.

Weird from someone who hates losing a verbal battle.

You whip around to see San full on face red, eyes blinking rapidly away from you. Confused and concerned, You pull up at your dress robe to approach him again.

“Cat got your tongue?”

He snaps at that. “N-no. You’re right. Nature’s absolutely the most beautiful thing on this world.”

He gives you another look. One you’ve never seen on him before. Until you realize the camp has sent a warning flare at the sky in consideration.

You gasp interrupted, San sighing in front of you. “We’ll talk about that look later. We need to get back to camp.”

You hear him mumble something under his breath as you drag him away from your temporary rest area, your mind blurring at the unimportant words he bumbled.

“After you.”

What you thought meant you walking in front of him, really was an add on to his sentence prior. Still blank to you, with time only telling when you’d get the real truth behind Choi San.

A troubled child trapped in a prevalent King’s body.

p.s rough edit

@atinybitofau

a/n: this series will NOT be followed by the other members. but San’s was pretty much drafted in my archives so I decided to continue his for the time being. long overdue lol but pls let me know if you’d like to keep this story going 😭