#i’m not putting anything on my head though; it’ll never be seen again

[fingertipsmp3]

I will really watch a video of someone’s ✨sleep routine✨ which is essentially them straightjacketing themself and be like “oh I should try that” as if I don’t lie awake seething if I don’t have full range of movement

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

lover, you should've come over - m. schmidt

a/n: you guys should have seen this one coming! as always i appreciate any likes and reblogs and hope you enjoy :) warnings: suggestive themes, big angst, lots of talk about tattoos and pain and needles, mike having horrible anxiety and commitment issues, reader is mostly gender neutral except for one thing ! tattoo aftercare, hurt/comfort, kissing word count: 3.6k summary: you get a tattoo, and it terrifies mike. mostly because he realizes how much you love him. pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader now playing: lover, you should've come over - jeff buckley "my body turns and yearns/for a sleep that won't ever come/it's never over/my kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder."

Penny has done almost all of your tattoos, save for the stick and poke star you gave yourself while you were way too high to be handling that sort of equipment, and a few flash designs you’ve gotten for holidays. And usually, you keep it simple and easy, pitching a design idea and getting a finished stencil a few hours later.

But this time, you go into the shop a few months before you plan to get the tattoo and describe to her what you want. She’s shocked that you want a half sleeve—It’s a big step, she tells you, and it’ll mean sitting for a few hours while she does her work. It’ll be painful, and the design will take a few weeks to get made, because she wants to give you the best possible design.

She does good work. When you visit again in about three weeks, you put down a deposit and make an official date to get it done. October 9th.

You go home that night to your small, but warm home to find your boyfriend trying to make chicken parm. His goal all year has been to learn how to cook, not just to make things out of a box. You know a bit better how to cook, but you let him improve his skills, always providing helpful, gentle critiques.

Abby is worse at being gentle.

She’s brutal with her brother’s cooking, and even though Mike loves your gentle words, he appreciates Abby’s feedback, and just wants her to eat a full plate of food before bed each night.

Tonight, his food smells good. You mentioned about a month ago how you missed your mom’s chicken parm, and since then, he’s been reading and researching different recipes at work. Ever since he quit working at Freddy’s, he’s put down the book of dreams and has picked up cookbooks, working his way up slowly.

You tell him he’ll be making Thanksgiving Dinner in no time. You kiss his jaw when you say that, and later, he returns the favor by placing a kiss to your shoulder.

You go to him, standing in the kitchen, as he squints at the recipe book in front of him. He wears washed blue jeans, an old Foo Fighters tee shirt and a pair of blue fuzzy socks. A towel hangs over his shoulder as he mutters to himself, as he gets ready to put some garlic bread in the oven.

You’re still in your work clothes, though, it’s not as if you’re wearing anything fancy. Just a different pair of jeans, and a tee shirt with your shop’s logo on it. Your hair is messy, and you smell vaguely of dirt. The smell has become comforting to him in his time knowing you.

You step closer to him, a hand resting gently on his shoulder. He relaxes at your touch.

“Hey, Mike.” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Hey, how was your day?”

“Not too bad. The food smells pretty good.”

“You think so?” His voice is hopeful, especially since he’s trying to live up to your memories of the dish as a kid. It’s his way of thanking you for being so good to him while he’s gotten his shit together.

“Mhm. I’m gonna go wash up and have Abby help me set the table.” You tell him. You kiss his jaw quickly before heading off to the bathroom to scrub the dirt from beneath your fingernails. You wash your face and arms too and begin to realize how domestic this all is.

You never saw yourself having kids, and never thought of yourself dating someone who did.

And you still never think about having kids, but you did find yourself treating Abby as if she is your own. This has nothing to do with how much you adore her brother. Abby is just easy to love. You wonder if anyone’s ever told her that.

When your work boots find themselves at the end of your bed, you change into a muscle tee. You’re awfully fond of them. You find a pair of Mike’s fuzzy socks and slip them on too. You take a moment to stare at your shoulder in the mirror, imagining how it’ll look when ink covers it. Most of your tattoos are on your legs, and for a long time, this arm has been bare of any ink. You’ve been saving it for this project for years.

You go to Abby’s room and knock gently before entering. You find her painting at this aisle you got for her birthday. She’s been working on this painting for a few days now, and it’s turning out quite nice.

“Hey, Abs.” You say softly, and she puts her paintbrush down to give you this big, toothy grin. “Go wash up and help me set the table?” You ask.

“Sure.” She hums and starts to skip along to the bathroom, but you stop her at the door.

“And remember, even if Mike’s food is bad, what do we say?”

“Mm, this food is so good and not horrible at all!”

“Abby.”

She sighs.

“This is unlike anything you’ve made before, and I appreciate the effort?”

“That’s it.” You let her go wash up, and then go to set the table.

When Mike eventually serves dinner, you’re starved. You don’t care if it’s bad, or if it’s burnt, you know you’ll like it because you weren’t able to take a lunch break that day. But it genuinely looks good.

He cuts up Abby’s food and puts the plate in front of her before sitting down and looking to you two for a reaction. You take a bite, and you have to pause.

Did Mike really cook something not just edible, but… good?

Not fine, not decent, really good.

“Mike, this is—”

“Amazing!” Abby gasps, going in for another bite. His cheeks flush.

“You guys don’t have to pretend, it’s alright—”

“No, Mike, we’re not pretending, it’s really good!” You defend, going in for a second bite yourself. “Try it!”

He does, and he even looks shocked at the quality of the food he’s produced. And it sets the mood for the whole dinner, until you eventually blurt out,

“I booked a tattoo appointment for next week.”

“What are you getting?” Mike can’t ever admit this to you, but he adores your tattoos. He thinks the placement of them are all wonderful, even if they’re smaller. He likes to kiss them, to trace his fingers over them, to just admire them in the summer.

“It’s a surprise.” You tell him. Owning your own shop and being your own boss has its perks. You have no worries about people judging you for your half sleeve, deciding that you can just ban them from your shop.

Your conversation drifts off and you focus on other things. When you’re done, you and Mike begin to clean up with him, letting some of the pan soak in the sink. You sit on the counter, drying some of the plates as Mike rinses.

“Thank you for dinner.” You tell him.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Comfortable silence fills the room. “You’re really not gonna tell me what you’re getting?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” You smile softly. He dries his hand and steps between your legs. His hands land on either side of you, caging you in.

“Tease.” He mumbled, leaning forward, and kissing your shoulder. A hand goes to his hair, your fingers tangling in his locks.

“I’m not teasing, I’m just being a little secretive.” You tell him, playing with his hair. You’re a fan of the scruff he’s been growing out lately.

“Isn’t it gonna hurt?”

“Yeah, but I’ll take breaks and remember to eat.” You tell him. “This isn’t my first tattoo, Mike.”

“I know, baby.” He says softly, “I just get worried—”

“You get worried about me? And yet, when I’m worried about you, you ignore me but—” He cuts you off with a kiss, and your hands land on his jaw, the scruff tickling your face.

• • •

The ink swirls around your shoulder, a moth wrapping around your shoulder and reaching to the top of your arm. Vines wrap around the moth, as flowers bloom in different places. Your birth flower is one of them, as well as your mother’s. You also place Abby and Mike’s around the moth, maybe protecting it. Thorns poke out of some of the vines, and the ink covers your shoulder, and down to just above your elbow.

You got it done on a Saturday afternoon, leaving late enough so Mike could sleep in without having to deal with Abby, but being able to give them some time to relax together.

It takes a few hours, and by the end of it, you’re exhausted. As with all your other tattoos, you’re sore, but this is a new type of sore. You ache for Mike’s hands on you, to hold you and kiss your shoulders, even though he can’t kiss your left shoulder for a few days.

The second skin will remain on your arm for a day or two, and then you’ll have to go through the process of moisturizing your tattoo.

You have Penny take lots of photos of it before you head home, Mike and Abby both waiting in anticipation for you to come home and show them your new ink. You’re excited to show them, since there’s a connection to them in the art. 

When you open the door, Abby runs to you and immediately starts to look for the ink in question. She gasps when she sees it, all wrapped up on your arm.

“It’s a moth,” You tell her, “With my favorite plants.” You crouch down to point out different plans in the works. “These are my mom’s birth flowers, they’re carnations.” You tell her, “Do you know what these are?” You point to another flower.

Abby shakes her head, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the fresh, raw flesh of the person she considers to be her caregiver.

“They’re lily of the valley flowers. They’re your birth flower.” You reach out and tuck hair behind her ear. Then, you point to the third flower. “And these? They’re honey suckles. They’re Mike’s birth flower.”

Mike watches your interaction, listening to your explanation of the tattoo. Suddenly, this anxiety pools in his chest. You’ve been living together for a few months, but somehow a symbol of him and Abby being engraved on your skin makes things all too real.

He could cry.

“Did you get the flowers because you’re a flower person?” You grin, knowing she doesn’t remember the title of your job.

“Botanist, you mean? Sort of, but you two mean a lot to me, and I wanted to tribute something to you guys.” You confess.

She grins and turns to look at Mike.

“I wanna be a tattoo artist when I’m older.” Mike is pale with anxiety.

He wants to tell you it looks good, that it’s brilliantly done, but he doesn’t find it in himself. He wants to run, to abandon this relationship at the door, to never speak to you again to avoid the fact that he wants you desperately and thinks he might marry you one day.

He walks off to the bathroom, and he’s unsure if it’s to throw up or to cry.

You’re disappointed, because you wanted him to like it desperately, since this tattoo is now on you forever, and you wanted it to be a tribute to him. It almost hurts you that he doesn’t love it. Or at least pretend to. Instead, his disdain is visible on his face, and you do your best to turn your attention back to Abby.

“Wanna help me make dinner?” You smile softly, and she nods.

“Did your tattoo hurt?” She acts gently.

“Yeah, but with a good artist it goes quickly, and they don’t aim to torture you.” You explain, as you begin to make mac and cheese.

As she sets the table, you turn back to her and ask, “Can you go get Mike for dinner?” She nods and skips along to your bedroom, where Mike sits on the bed, frustrated with himself.

“Mike?” She asks gently. “We’re making mac and cheese.”

“I’m not hungry.” He says softly, and Abby can just tell something isn’t right.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t feel well..”

“Oh…” she suspects this is a lie.

“I’m sorry. Tell them I said sorry.” Tears prick Mike’s eyes. He’s unsure why he’s like this, and why he can’t just admire your tattoo and love you and tell you how much you mean to him. But he can’t. He gets the words out. He wants to love you so badly but something in him demands to not let him be happy.

He lays on the bed and tries to stay quiet as he cries.

• • •

Hours later, you sit at the table anxiously, your hands tapping on the wood, a cold bowl of Mac and Cheese on the table. You decide to get up to clean up dinner, and just as you do, soft steps creep out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area.

Mike stands and stares at the cold dinner that he feels bad for rejecting. He should just tell you what’s bothering him. Instead, his gaze turns and looks at you, doing the dishes.

“You didn’t have to make dinner.”

“You didn’t seem well, and Abby needed to eat.”

This comment sparks a much larger fire in Mike, and he isn’t sure why he’s angered by how much you care about his sister, his world.

“You aren’t her mom, you don’t have any reason to make her dinner or put her to bed—”

“Yeah, Mike, well, You’re not really her dad.” You glare. “I’ve taken care of her for months, fed her, made sure she’s taken care of, I’ve picked her up from school, and now suddenly, you’ve decided I have no right to just care about her? Fuck you, if you don’t love me anymore, then don’t take it out on your sister, talk to me like a god damn grown up and stop acting like a child.” You spit, angrily turning back around to keep doing your dishes so that Mike doesn’t see your red face or your tears.

With your back turned, he can see the moth on your shoulder blade, and he aches to trace the lines of your tattoos, kissing the skin around it. But cotton fills his mouth every time he tries to sew the gap between you two.

And your words strike him. He knows why you might think he doesn’t love you anymore, but he does. He loves you deeply and finds himself enamored with you, and yet he can’t even compliment this tattoo that you have obviously put a ton of time, effort and money into.

“I’m sorry—” You start, but he cuts you off.

“I think we should give each other some space.” The words hit you like a ton of brick, and you’re ready to get on your hands and knees and beg him, beg him to not leave, beg him to forgive you (for what, you don’t know), beg him to touch you, beg him to want you.

“What..?”

“I just think I need some space.” He said softly, leaning against the kitchen doorway. You want to ask if he’s hungry, to kiss away all the sadness in the worry lines of his face.

You nod, bite your tongue. He wants to hold you and tell you he doesn’t mean it.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” You mumble, sighing softly. You also plan to leave early before Mike gets up.

Mike steps towards you, maybe to apologize. You step past him to go get pajamas from your dresser, not letting him grasp onto you. You don’t want him to apologize now. You want him to sit in his regret and you want to sit in your anger.

As you attempt to fall asleep that night, you pray Abby didn’t hear your conversation with him.

Both of you try to drift to sleep and salt streams from your eyes and into your ears.

• • •

A few days pass. Your tattoo starts to heal, and you take the second skin off your shoulder and arm and begin the process of aftercare.

You and Mike exchanged a total of about thirty words over the next few days. Abby noticed your angst towards each other and tried to get the two of you to make up. She figured that Mike was being an idiot, and just needed to apologize.

She was right, but he didn’t want to admit that to his kid sister.

It’s hell. You have to pretend that you don’t want to beg for his forgiveness, but you know that neither of you are blameless. Your pride tells you not to be the first one to cave. His anxiety tells him that you hate him.

When he gets home one afternoon from work, you’re napping in bed. He knows the couch isn’t that comfortable and he’s sure you’re home because you’d mentioned to Abby that you weren’t feeling well. You probably didn’t expect to still be asleep when he got home.

But you’re wearing one of his shirts. He kisses your head and leaves a glass of water and cold medicine on the nightstand, before going to make himself busy somewhere else, as if not to disrupt your rest.

He takes one last glance at you before he leaves.

One night, he comes home from work late. You take it as an opportunity to take a hot shower after putting Abby to bed and taking a few minutes to sit in the bedroom that you missed while sleeping on the couch.

Besides, your bones ached from that uncomfortable couch while you were spoiled, used to Mike’s warm bed.

You barely hear the front door open as you continue your nightly routine. You need to apply lotion to your tattoo, to keep it moisturized as it heals. But you find yourself struggling to reach your shoulder.

Mike watches you from the doorway of the bedroom, biting his lip. The bags around his eyes have grown darker since your fight.

He takes off his boots first, and then strips his top down to an undershirt, then takes off his jeans. If you weren’t so busy, you’d acknowledge how handsome he looked in just his boxers and a gray tee shirt.

The bed dips behind you, as he sits behind you. You stop what you’re doing.

“Give me the lotion.” He says softly, and with a sigh of defeat, maybe even a bit of relief, you hand him the lotion. He squirts some lotion on his hands, then begins to rub it into your skin. You shudder at the contact, and he feels tears in his eyes again. He missed you. “I’m sorry I didn’t say I liked your tattoo. I love it.”

“I’m sorry I said you didn’t love me, and I’m sorry I said you weren’t Abby’s dad.”

“But I’m not—”

“But you are her parent.”

“So are you.”

A silence fills the room.

“What happened on Saturday?”

“I got anxious when I saw Abby and I’s birth flowers on you. Like how much I loved you was just engraved in your skin, and I didn’t know what to do with it. I didn’t mean to push you away, I was just terrified. Terrified that you’re going to leave. Terrified that I won’t be able to protect you.” His voice cracks at the end, and he leans his head against your shoulder that isn’t inked.

Your head turns to kiss his head.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know..” he says softly, but a part of him doesn’t believe it. You and Abby, you’re the only ones who have stayed, the only ones he’s been able to save. He doesn’t know who he is without the two of you. “I’m sorry, I was such a dick.”

“Yeah, but so was I.” You tell him.

“I love your tattoo. I love all of your tattoos. All of them. I love kissing them. I’m desperate for this one to heal so I can kiss this shoulder again.”

“Thank you for helping me with it. It itches like a son of a bitch.” You tell him, a weak smile on your face. Tears stain your shirt.

“Can we go back to normal now? I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you so much.” You turn and wrap your arms around him, the warmth radiating from his body as he holds you close. You wonder if either of you will ever be able to let yourselves be loved.

You hope to let each other try.

You kiss him, salty tears mixing, as you hold him close. He’s careful of your tattoo, not wanting to scratch or hurt you. He’s gentle in a way that betrays him. He desires you in this way that transcends want or need, something that is vital, as if it were breathing.

Yet his hands remain respectful. Gentle. You’re the one that adjusts your position to be over him, as you gently push him back against the bed, kissing him deeper.

He decides he will marry you someday. That maybe the idea of being with you for the rest of his life isn’t scary.

Not when you kiss him like that.

[xxblairexxss]

Breaking news

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Your Instagram story caused a commotion amongst the fans

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You had connected the call to your car so you could talk to him while driving home because you didn’t know if you could see the hair saloon again without crying even more. You put on the signal before turning the steering wheel as you sobbed, your boyfriend’s question left hanging in the air.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?”

“N– no, I’m already on my way back.” You sobbed again.

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yes– yes, please. I can’t stop crying!” You wailed and looked at the rear view mirror before switching lane.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I don’t know what happened but as long as you are already on your way back, it’ll be fine.”

Soon as you took off your sneakers, Charles opened the door and pulled you into a hug. You were no longer crying because you had accepted your fate at this point.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

Breaking the hug, you took a step back, your bottom lips jutting out.

“What? Baby, talk to me. What happened?”

You twirled and cried out. “They cut my hair too short! How can you not see it!”

Charles’s breathe was stuck in his throat. He had been walking back and forth, waiting for you to come back home wondering if the worst thing happened. This, wasn’t in any of those thoughts he had in mind.

“You were crying because they cut your hair too short?” His voice trailed off as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I have never had my hair this short before!”

“You were crying because of this?”

You glowered at his question and paced to the room, leaving him alone while he was still in incredulity. He didn’t even realise there was any changes to your hair because as soon as he saw you, his eyes went to scan on your body for any injuries or maybe some bruises. It never occurred to him it would be something lighter than the all the scenarios he had in his head.

“Baby? You wanna talk about it?” Charles walked in and grinned, trying to act as if he couldn’t see the glare from you.

“I asked them to trim it shorter but not this short, just slightly around my chest but they just cut it right away and I was too scared to say anything.”

“You still look beautiful though.” He could still see the little dots of tears hanging on your lashes as he stared at you in admiration.

“Liar! You are only saying that to make me feel better.”

“I swear! You look beautiful. Trust me.” He tilted your face to look at him and smiled as he studied your face. “See? You’ll always be beautiful, baby. Even if one day you decide to be bald, I’m still gonna find you beautiful.”

“I hate you.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 225,637 others

ynusername how it started vs how it ended

charles_leclerc Still the prettiest girl ever ❤️

username1 new hairrr?!?!

username2 girl we need story time

username3 you should have seen twitter and gossip pages. they went WILD 😂😂

username4 i don’t get it?? someone explain

username5 ppls thought something happened to the couple but they seem to be doing fine 🥰

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,845 others

ynusername Smiling through the pain :)

charles_leclerc The most beautiful girl 😍

username1 GIRL YOU SLAY THE HAIRSTYLE

username2 drop dead gorgeous

francisca.cgomes literally suits you so much 🫶🏻🩷

username3 what do you mean. you look STUNNINGGG 😍😍

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynusername, pierregasly and 1,507,6739 others

charles_leclerc prettiest in long and short hair. any hairstyle, basically 🩷

ynusername i love youuuu! 🥹 Thank you for taking me out on a dinner date to make me feel better ❤️🥹

username1 FAV COUPLE IS STILL GOING STRONG

username2 i thought they broke up 😭😭😭

username3 tell y/n to never do that again

username4 i’m not gonna believe in love anymore if they ever broke up 💔

username5 oh to have my bf take me out on a date after i cut my hair too short 😔

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[dirtysvthoughts]

ur gymrat boyfriends <3

tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! wonwoo, boyfriend! jihoon, poly! relationship, pet names (baby, honey, princess, my darlings), literally one mention of ass smacking, reader gets fully nude, wonwoo and jihoon are gymrats (kinda obvious lol), dirty talk, pussy eating - but guess who though 👀, sorta kinda wall & mirror sex? you’ll see, wonwoo kinda takes the lead in this one heheh 🤭

word count: 2.5k (i got carried away y’all, i’m so sorry this was supposed to be short 😭)

a/n: i was told several times i was a menace for coming up with this idea, so why not continue my spread of mischief 😗 i saw this pic and instantly got several thoughts running through my brain… thanks to @playmetheclassics @wonwussy and @gyuwoncheol for dealing with my nonsense 🥹

when jihoon suggested you join him and wonwoo at the gym, you were hesitant at first.

“won’t there be lots of people there? and i thought you two working out together was a you guys thing, i don’t wanna intrude on that.. we all need our own spaces,” your voice and eyes lower, but the hand your boyfriend places on your thigh immediately has your eyes staring into his.

“working out is never just a me and wonwoo thing, you’re always welcome to join us. you’ve just been too shy to tag along,” jihoon’s ruffles your hair as your eyes shift away again. “besides, we haven’t done anything with all three of us in a bit. it’ll be nice,” he pats your back as he gets up, heading towards your bathroom to take a shower.

a few days later, you take up jihoon’s offer, and decide to join him and your other boyfriend at the gym. donning a strappy black sports bra and black shorts, you enter the room your lovers are in - their bodies coming to attention once you come into the space.

“hi my darlings,” you sweetly muse as you put your things down. wonwoo immediately sets his weights to the side and approaches you, hands falling on your waist as he kisses the center of your forehead. “hey pretty girl,” he smirks as you lean further into his touch, caressing your cheek delicately with his fingertips. “i haven’t seen you in a minute, are you taking care of yourself?”

“yes, i promise,” you respond back, pressing a chaste kiss to his soft lips. wonwoo kisses you back moving his hands toward your chest - until jihoon clears his throat loudly, stopping the both of you in your tracks.

“i know you two haven’t seen each other in a while, but we do have to stay focused. wonwoo and i can’t spend all day here unfortunately, we have other schedules later on tonight.”

you sigh disappointingly, wanting more of wonwoo’s touch on you, but also realizing that jihoon was right. he did warn you in advance this morning that while the three of you would be reunited, it wouldn’t be as long as you would like it to. they could only stay at the gym for an hour until all three of you had to go your separate ways again. it had been about two weeks since all three of you were able to hang out together. who knows when the next time would be?

you then decided you just need the savor the present moments with your boyfriends.

30 more minutes pass in which all of you have worked on different body groups - your boyfriends helping each other with their chest workouts, and jihoon helping you on some of your weighted exercises, giving you tips and pointers on how to make it challenging, but not overwhelming. all three of you take a break from the exercise, getting some water as you lay down on your mat and your men sit on different benches.

“how do you guys do this everyday?” you question in astonishment. “it’s only been 30 minutes but i feel like i got in a workout for the rest of the week,” you grab your phone and scroll through some of your apps while your boyfriends laugh at your joke.

“you just gotta keep it consistent honey,” wonwoo comments. “the more you do it, the less harder it becomes.”

“and the faster you get the results you want,” jihoon adds in. “wonwoo and i didn’t get our physiques overnight. remember those late nights when one of us would have to facetime you at the gym?”

your pussy throbs at the memories jihoon unlocked for you. “how could i forget when you both unintentionally teased me with your muscles?” you murmur in your head, thinking about your last gym facetime with jihoon and how you wanted nothing more than for him to pin you down after seeing him in a tight, sleeveless black shirt, hair covering his eyes.?

“y-yeah,” you whisper biting down on your lip, quickly and tightly closing your legs to prevent the boys from catching on. “i don’t think i ever told you guys this, but i’m proud of you both for working so hard to take care of yourselves. and trust me, i definitely see the work you put in.”

wonwoo chuckles, running his hand through his hair. “i think you need to elaborate honey, what does that mean?”

you roll your eyes as you sit up, looking directly at wonwoo when your response comes out of your mouth. “i think you know what i mean, baby,” you tease as you roll up to your knees. “you and jihoon are too hot to handle,” you bite your lip as your mind continues to drown in your needy thoughts. “your arms are so built that i want to be pinned down or choked by them practically every day. when you both wear oversized shirts, you can still see the details of your chest muscles, and god, both of you have the waist of greek gods.. you’re my fucking adonises.”

“mmm, is that so honey?” wonwoo questions, but he already knows the answer. “if that’s the case, then come over here and sit on my lap, let me show you how this gym work can be put to very good use.”

you stand up, walking towards your boyfriend and when you’re close enough, gingerly putting one leg over his, making sure your pussy pressed against his crotch. once you feel situated, you begin to grind on wonwoo’s lap, hands pressing down on his shoulders, moaning at how you could feel his hardness at you just got started.

wonwoo quickly takes notice in how you were lost in pleasure, your eyes closed and your head falling back, revealing how pretty your neck and their lines looked. he takes advantage of this opportunity, and pulls you closer by the waist, holding you by your lower back. wonwoo then attaches his lips above your collarbone, pillow-like kisses heightening your sensations.

“mmmm,” you moan in ecstasy, sounds getting a bit louder as he kisses his way down to the valley of your chest. “mmm, wo’neil, more pl-please,” you reach for the nape of his neck and pull him forward to bring him to the exact spot he’s trying to reach. he smiles knowing both of you were on the same page, and starts mouthing at your breasts, leaving open kisses and licks anywhere he could.

jihoon was watching you both intently from his corner of the room, but when he heard you moan beautifully for the third time in a row and he saw wonwoo making love to your chest? he was done being a spectator. he had to join the action.

you and wonwoo are so caught up in each other that neither of you notice jihoon walking up to you both and stopping once he reaches your backside. his fingers grasp the hem of your bra and gently pull it up, causing you and wonwoo to momentarily freeze. your tilt your head back to look at your boyfriend, in a trance from how wonwoo riled you up.

“jihoon?” you question as he sits you up to pull your bra over your head, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“couldn’t let the two of you have all the fun,” he teases, now moving to touch your mounds. “such a beautiful body you have, baby,” smirking at how with every touch, your nipples got perkier.

you moan out jihoon’s name as wonwoo goes back to making you feel good with his mouth. the feeling of both of them on you has your toes curling and your panties getting wetter.

“shit, w-wonwoo, ji-jihoon,” you breathlessly whisper their names. “needed you both so bad, i missed this so much,” your last word turns into a moan when wonwoo feels up your clit through your shorts.

“jihoon, she’s so wet already,” wonwoo chuckles circling his thumb over the center of your crotch, enjoying the many noises that left your mouth. “we’ve barely even started honey, you wanna share with the class?”

“i’m practically about to make a spot on these shorts, i’m dripping wet for the both of you! take me on the floor, the wall, this fucking bench - i don’t care, i just need you both inside of me,” you desperately plead.

both of their dicks twitch at your words, and they share at look with each other. they nod their heads in agreement, and wonwoo places his thumb in your chin, ensuring all of your focus was on him.

“stand up pretty honey,” he commands, and you do, trying not to lose your balance. once you’re off wonwoo, jihoon slowly pulls your shorts down your legs, revealing the black, strappy panties you decided to wear.

amused, wonwoo trails his fingers over your waistband, pulling it away and then letting it snap against your skin. your core gushes, not expecting wonwoo playing with your panties to have such an effect on you.

“oh my god, please!” you whine. “no more teasing, i don’t think i can take it.”

jihoon laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple, fingers playing with your earlobe. “c’mon wonwoo, help me get our baby to the mirror.”

wonwoo gladly obliges, turning you around to have your back facing his chest. he helps you walk backwards as jihoon temporarily leaves you two, making sure the door was locked.

you turn your cheek toward wonwoo as his back finally presses against the reflective material, fingers slowly crawling towards your folds to touch you again - this time without any clothes blocking his way. “why do i get the feeling that you and hoon planned this before i got here?” you scoff in disbelief, but it quickly turns into another moan as wonwoo begins a scissoring motion that had your body aching for more.

“and if we did?” jihoon smirks, making his way back to you. he kneels when he gets in front of you, blowing lightly on your folds and you think you might pass out from the combined feeling of oral and physical touch in your most sensitive area.

“y-you guys are some-something el-else,” you can barely muster as jihoon begins to inhale your scent down there, groaning and mentioning how good you were going to taste.

“and i bet she would taste good too jihoon,”’wonwoo chimes in. “every time i’ve eaten you out, you’ve always filled my appetite. you’re so satisfying. you taste so sweet, pretty honey,” he brings his fingers out from inside you and brings them to your lips. without another thought, you suck dramatically on his fingers, enjoying how wonwoo pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth.

he pulls off with a pop and he goes to your chest, grabbing at any skin he could get his hands on. you press down on his hand as you brace for more, whimpering at how good it all felt.

you weren’t expecting to get louder however, and that’s when jihoon finally decides to put his mouth to use. he leaves one long lick on your clit, and your body breaks out in good shivers.

“oh my fucking god,” you breathe out, feeling like you were going to an otherworldly paradise. jihoon doesn’t stop there and continues his motions, alternating the pacing of his tongue.

“you like it when jihoon eats you out baby?” you nod frantically. “such a pretty little thing when you’re getting fucked out.. maybe i should fuck you from behind? hmm, put my tip in just a little bit and get you writhing for me,” he curves the shape of you ass and spanks the left cheek, causing you to tilt forward a bit as you cry out.

“please, please keep talking that way wonwoo, it s-sounds so good coming out of your mouth!” jihoon can’t help but laugh to himself because you were right, the more wonwoo talked dirty to you, the wetter you became, and all he wanted was to have your juices covering the bottom half of his face.

“such a needy, desperate little girl.. you love a filthy mouth don’t you?” before you can respond, wonwoo’s tongue roams on the edge of your earlobe and you whine out for your boyfriend.

“that’s right, keep calling my name out like that.. who’s helping you get off like this?”

“you are! wonwoo, wonwoo!”

“and be nice princess, who else is making you feel good? he’s working just as hard as me,” wonwoo tilts your head down to have you view jihoon, still making love to your folds like a pussy-starved man. jihoon looks at you with the most cunning, seductive look and you fear your coil could come undone any second.

“jihoonie,” you moan, biting down on your lip. “you’re making me feel so good down there, but i don’t know how long i can la- ah!” his tongue goes at its fastest pace since you three started and that’s all it takes for you to finally release, chanting both of your boyfriend’s names like they were the only words you knew.

jihoon moves his mouth away from the lower half of your body, a cheshire grin sweeping across his face, knowing his wish for today finally came true.

“came so much that you got it all over my face baby,” he licks his lips and the move has you clenching again, even though you had an intense orgasm seconds before. “dirty talk does something to you because you were dripping on my lips.” you blush at jihoon’s intimate statement as your body tries to slump to the floor, but wonwoo brings you back up.

“can’t have you laying down just yet, do you think you can handle another round princess? i do wanna put my dick inside of you, but only if you’re ready. what about you jihoon?”

the mentioned male nods in agreement, “yeah neither of us has filled you up yet, and i don’t think we can go anywhere until we’ve accomplished that.”

you look at the clock in the room, and there were about 10 minutes left before you guys had to leave. surely that’s enough time for one more orgasm.

“okay, but this time, i actually wanna see some skin from you two,” you pout. “i was the only one naked, and that’s not fair.. lemme see all of your work,” you innocently tease, doe eyes making them both horny.

“you really are something else,” jihoon expresses as he takes off his jacket first, then his shirt. wonwoo follows suit, hoodie coming off and his shirt following, both of their outerwear now in a small pile.

“you’ll have to help us with our pants though if you want both of us in your pretty little holes,” wonwoo remarks.

you sigh, knowing that even though you will get what you want, it’s not gonna come to you easy. that’s what it was like dealing with your gymrat boyfriends.

“yes baby,” you whisper as you come down to your knees, pulling down wonwoo, then jihoon’s pants and boxers down, revealing their pretty and girthy dicks.

“hm, i guess those late nights were worth it,” you say to yourself.

[suspiciouspiece]

𝑾𝑯𝑨𝑻’𝑺 𝑨 𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑶 𝑨 𝑮𝑶𝑫 ❦.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐨 ! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐰𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 . 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲’𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐦𝐞 🫶🏼. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 .

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭. 𝐋𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 . 𝐎𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 ? 𝐎𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ? 

⚠️𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 ! 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐫𝐧 . ⚠️

CHAPTER 1 Greetings and ghost stories 

Y/n had sighed, running as quickly as she could. The marines hot on her tail screaming for her to stop. Y/n had jump down into the water and pulled out a card, the black white & red card opened a portal. When she step through she was on a different island . Using another card to dry herself off and change her clothes. “ Finally some peace and quiet. “ She started walking up the hill’s path . Disappearing within view. 

.... 

“ AWWW NAMI !!!! I’M BORED !!” Screams luffy from up top of the head of sunny. He had been miserable lately. Thanks to the fact no new islands had been near them . Nami let out an irritated sigh, “ How many times have I told you luffy ? No island are near us ! Honestly it’s a miracle that I can even navigate when even the log pose is complete still. “ 

Luffy had huffed, clearly not satisfied with the answer but couldn’t do anything more about it . “ Is the island in the sky ? “ Usopp said while fixing up something new at the table. Robin had put her book down and looked at the sky .“ No like last time it would have pointed upwards. Honestly I’m scared we might be in a still area of water with nothing around us .” 

“ Don’t stress out Nami dear ! Even if that happens I would personally kick this boat so far that it’ll never become still becoming your Prince Charming and-“

“ Stealing a kiss ! Ahah ~ “ 

“ DAMN YOU BAG OF BONES DON’T STEAL MY LINE !! “ 

Nami sighed, “ Hopefully we find an island soon through, supply is running low on everyone end.” Sanji had took a smoke break ,” Yea Nami right . We only have enough food for a week . “ Usopp gasped,” but all that food I seen earlier!” “ Have you forgotten our captain eats crew worth of meals ?  2 at breakfast, 2 snack breaks, 2 lunches, another 2 snack breaks , 3 serving at dinner even though it’s only supposed to be 2 but somehow he manages to steal someone food .” ussop had fell to the floor ,” LUFFYS EATING US TO DEATH ROW !!!” 

Sanji had sighed another drag form his cigar , “doesn’t help that he’s been so bored he’s basically stress eating. Our captain has a lot of energy, the sunny can only hold him for so long . “ Franky had walk up to them,with chopper . “ How is that even possible?! “ “ Luffy’s body is rubber . His whole body is constantly stretching and unstretching subconsciously through tiny cells . Making his stomach big. It literally has no end while he eats. It also doesn’t help that while he loses a big chunk of energy it’s balanced out with more energy coming in from nothing. “ 

Zoro had popped up outta nowhere . “ So that means what exactly?” “ Think of it as lightning being held by rubber band but the rubber band is moving . It’ll attract more light while losing a little. “ Zoro still looked confused. “ In other words it’s like filling a bottle of water with a hole in the bottom.” Robin try’s to explain. Zoro still kinda lost.

“To sum it up moss head , think it as he training, he became 10 times stronger but he hungry from the hard work so he eat and has to start the workout over again .” “ Oh ? Why didn’t you explain it that way .” “ BECAUSE YOUR AN IDIOT !” “ WHO YOU CALLING IDIOT, PERVERT COOK ?!” 

“ SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU !!” Nami screamed, punching them . Luffy sighed,” I’m depressed. Me want meat . No island yet .” Luffy was deflated  on the floor, pouting . The group stared, eyes poking out their heads . “ Oh lord I hope we find an island fast !” The crew screamed. 

Thankfully the crew was able to find a island fast . It was unlikely luffy to be that sad . Chopper had made sure to test him to see if he was sick because of it . The crew had felt a sense of easiness watching luffy gum gum off the ship not even waiting for them . “ Welp, there’s no stopping him . I’m sure luffy will find his way back . This is boring quiet island after all . Sanji and chopper go get food supplies and medicine. Me and robin will get books, paper and other things. Usopp and franky get weapons and tools. Brook find me some clothes . Zoro actually stay and guard don’t fall asleep ! “ 

It was too late though. Zoro was already sleeping up a storm . “ Ugh whatever.” 

Luffy was having the time of his life. He already made some new friends. Ate good food and even got in a good fight. He miss this . 3 months on the ship was too long . He had stop at the end of the road, the little girl he made friends with, on his back was name Mico ( Mi-co ) . Had stopped him ,” Uhoh Luf! We can’t go any farther!” Luffy stared, “ Why ?” “ That forest is called “ Evil lives” . Some strange girl walked into the forest about 2 weeks ago and the forest when completely silent. We haven’t seen any animals other than fish but still. It’s creepy. Her and the animals completely disappeared !” 

Luffy had smiled,” Sounds like some fun ! We should turn back for now though I told your mom I’ll bring you home before dark .” 

The girl nodded and than when back . Luffy wasn’t surprised to bump into his crew . “ Ah alright made a friend?” The group had all ran into each other . “ YEA ! Met Mico ! “ They had said their hello to the little girl . 

“ Oh my , so many , come in . “ A woman said smiling in the doorway. “ The group in the street nodded, following. 

“ So I hear Mico told you the story I’m sorry for her but her words are truth.” Sanji had let out a puff of smoke . “I guess that explains why I couldn’t find anything other than fish and why everything around here is so expensive.” The woman shook her head,” Listen I’ll explain a little more .” 

“ About two weeks ago, a woman with 

y/c/h hair came outta nowhere. She was sleeping in the middle of the road. Head on a pillow, holding a purple blanket. We wanted to wake her up but we couldn’t, some type of weird force was on her. So we let her alone . We thought she might be a devil fruit user that was into she woke up …”

Robin had a serious look but sweet and calm vioce,” What happened?” 

“ When she woke up it was like nothing happened. She didn’t speak to anyone or bothered us . The pillow and blanket disappeared. She was walking straight to the woods . Didn’t eat or drink anything. The kids were playing, accidentally spilled sea water on her . And by sea water I mean a tank that was being pulled . She didn’t flinch. She said it was hot day and that playing in water was understandable and nobody needed to make a fuss but after she walk in the woods , nobody ever seen her or any of the animals. I haven’t even seen a bird in two weeks now .” 

“ if she’s not a devil fruit user what’s her case ?” Franky said confused. “ To not see a bird in two weeks, this chick must be smoken hot to no ends ! The animals must have great taste ! “ Sanji screamed . “ Or she could be a real threat. Animal avoid areas that they feel threatened . A huge sign of this is when large groups of birds fly away .” Chopper added in . “ Whatever the case is let’s find her ! “ Luffy said getting excited, this is just what he needed, an adventure after been bored for so long . 

“ WAIT WAIT WAIT WAIT !!!!!!!! “ screamed ussop,” Are you telling me you wanna find some creepy ghost lady that took all the animals?!!!! TELL ME YOUR JOKING!!” Luffy laughed,” I’ll be fun stop being a scary cat ussop.” Luffy had jump up ready to go . He was quickly stop by robin.” We don’t know what’s waiting for us, plus it isn’t good to just walk into the woods without supplies or anything else . Also aren’t we missing a man ?” 

Luffy stared ,” brook ?” “ I’M RIGHT HERE !” “ Sanji ? “ “ FOR THE LOVE OF GOD ITS SO OBVIOUS !!! “ The crew screamed. “ Think of moss .” Robin calmly stated .” Luffy’s eyes popped out of his head ,” ZORO ?! WE GOTTA GO GET ZORO !!” The crew facepalm . “ I bet your first mate would be pretty hurt to hear you not remember like this .” “ I forgot I was thinking of the awesome fight I’m about to have ! “ “ YOU! WE’RE GOING TO SEE WHAT HAPPENED TO THAT GIRL AND THE ANIMALS NOT FIGHT “ nami yelled slapping luffy . 

[odiesdayoff]

So Undercover (3)

pair: Dark!Edward Nashton x fem!reader

summary: You get a little too caught up in an undercover job to unravel the Riddler.

warnings: intimidation; threats; murder; gaslighting; stalking; mentions of past noncon/smut

Part 2

“He called me a whore. Said I needed to be taught a lesson.” You wrapped your arms around Edward’s neck and buried your face into his shoulders. He got to the library as fast as he possibly could, in just about twenty minutes from the time you called. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

He gently stroked your back and let you cry into his shirt. “They made you talk to a serial killer and didn’t think that he would target you?”

You shook your head. “It’s not even a successful thing. I barely know anything about him and he knows everything about me. I think he’s going to kill me.”

With how hard you were crying, Edward’s smirk was unseen by you. He couldn’t help it. You’d fallen right into his little trap. “It’ll be okay.” You pulled away from him and allowed him to wipe the tears from your cheeks. 

~~

It was all too…surreal. To say the least. Going back to the precinct, back to work after everything that happened. You tried to hide the heat that remained on your cheeks, surely leaving at least a small tint of color different from the hue of your skin. How could embarrassment feel so much worse after the fact? All you had to do was go into the commissioner’s office and tell him that the mission was pointless. It was like telling a parent that they were wrong. 

You pushed open the thick oak doors and immediately locked eyes with the man. Pete Savage. You didn’t exactly know what his deal was, but he was never one of the “good” or “not corrupt” cops in the bunch. The doors squeaked unceremoniously shut behind you. It was then that you no longer felt like an adult, but rather a kid who was called to the principal’s office. “I wanted to talk about the Riddler Case, sir. I, well, I don’t think it’s working.” The words articulated themselves much better when you practiced them in the bathroom mirror. 

He gestured to the chair on the other side of the desk and you hesitantly took a seat. You couldn’t control the way your leg began to bounce, even with your hand resting on it. “What’s the problem?” His voice was attempting to sound kind, though the hint of annoyance still seeped through. It was still up in the air whether he was only being kind because he felt bad for you or it was just because you were a woman. 

“I no longer feel safe in my home or at work. I don’t know if you’ve seen the report from the other night, but my apartment was broken into. That, and the… sample I provided.” The embarrassment crept up once again, blood rushing to your cheeks. Admitting that a crime so personal had occurred seemed to be worse than the crime itself.

He gave you a lone nod and sighed. Was…he stopping himself from rolling his eyes? “I’m aware. I couldn’t help but notice that there were no signs of a break-in and as for the sample, are you sure it wasn’t some residue of a night you don’t want to admit to your boss?” The smirk grew as he began to think of the situation. 

“He made a key. That also means he’s been there before.” The idea had only just come to your mind. What if he’s been in your apartment while you were sleeping? You wouldn’t put it past him. You had already asked your landlord to change the locks of your front door. “And at the library. He cornered me and threatened me.”

He folded his hands and leaned forward. “You’re aware that our insurance policy covers psychiatric care, right? We have no evidence to confirm that you’re in danger. I’ll relieve you from this case for your own sake.”

You wanted to scream, cry, protest, and tell him exactly how he was wrong. Instead, you weakly nodded. You should’ve known he wouldn’t take you seriously. “Thank you, sir.” Tears threatened to spill, but you held yourself together.

In the back room again, you sorted files while angrily whispering your complaints about the commissioner. Pete Savage was nothing but a ridiculous misogynist. Corrupt, too. How can you be presented with all this information and still claim that you weren’t in danger? Who knows what might’ve happened had you not been able to use the fire escape? Not like he would care all that much.

Annette leaned against the doorframe, watching you as she usually did when she didn’t want to do her job. “Thompson told me about some secret mission you were doing while I was away. Also, I heard you just got thrown off of it.” You didn’t know what to call her slightly mocking tone. Was it holier-than-thou? I told you so?

“I left.” Anything more than a curt response was more than she deserved.

“Mhm. Well, I wouldn’t do anything like that. Not in the job description.” Like she ever did what was in her job description. That would be far too much to ask of her. How you were getting paid less than her and remain her subordinate only cemented the existence of extreme corruption in this precinct.

You angrily set the files on the floor. Well, more passive-aggressively than angry. “I was just trying to help.”

You had to keep pushing the thought of the videos and photos existing as a form of blackmail to the back of your mind. So what if you lost your job? It’s not that you necessarily enjoyed it. Life would be so much better if you could leave it and this whole godforsaken city behind you. 

~~

The older man at the desk worked relatively slowly to take in your phone and laptop. He only raised a brow when you asked for the same makes and models to trade in. “Most people choose the upgrade plan for an extra hundred.” He would repeat this until you could no longer count them on two hands. 

The sun had set by the time you reached your apartment. Your landlord handed you the new keys to the locks right as you stepped into the building. For the first time in a while, you felt safe. Nobody was watching anymore. You could breathe. 

As soon as your laptop connected to the wifi, you started to look through the online job forums. The sooner you get away from the precinct, the better. With each link you pressed, the screen would flash entirely black, only for a fraction of a second. Must’ve been a buggy site.

You sipped your tea and continued to look through the job openings. It had been quite a while since you had to do this. You were lucky enough to get your job straight out of school. Maybe you’d actually get paid what you deserved this time. 

The screen flashed again, this time a deep shade of green. You lost control of your cursor. It inched towards the top of the screen, your eyes following it while running your finger across the touchpad. It opened a new tab and then started typing. 

<?> DID YOU THINK YOU COULD GET RID OF ME <?>

You nearly choked on your tea. The laptop redirected to the same website you used to chat before. You stood from your chair. How could he possibly get in so fast? After you had been so careful? 

<?> You forgot about the windows.

He was right. You hated that he was right. In the rush of trying to cover all of your bases, you’d forgotten one of the most crucial entrances to your apartment. For all you knew, he was already through and waiting for you to try and close them. 

The front door. You could leave through there, call the GCPD, and he’d have nowhere to go. A one-way ticket to prison, or more realistically, Arkham. And you’d finally have the sense of freedom and relief you’ve been desperately wanting. 

First, the deadbolt. Then, the lock on the doorknob. You expected to see your escape when you frantically swung open the door, but there he stood. A boot collided with the door when you tried to close it on him. One gloved hand wrapped around your neck, the other on your hip.

This wasn’t like the library. That was public and he had to somewhat keep his plan contained. One curious bystander trying to be a hero could ruin everything. You were entirely in private, especially after he pushed himself in and kicked the door shut. 

“You’re so predictable. Naive. How did I know you’d try to outsmart me? I’ll give it to you, you’ve got a lot more going on in that head of yours than any of those cops you work with or politicians you work for. You’re still nothing compared to me.” He pushed you further back into your living room as he spoke. Maybe he was right all along and he knew you more than you knew yourself. He saw right through you. 

You clawed at his hand, scratching the leather in an attempt to loosen his grip. “I’m done. I’m not working with them anymore!”

The hand on your neck moved to gently stroke your hair. It would’ve been comforting if not for the leather catching and pulling the hair by accident. His other hand pulled you closer, against his chest. “I know, I know. That doesn’t matter anymore.” He cooed, voice still distorted by the mask. “Do you still have my gift?” 

There’s no way in hell you would admit that you kept it. The biggest reason wasn’t sentimental, you just had no idea where you could possibly throw it away. It’s been gathering dust in your closet ever since that night.

You couldn’t tell if he was smiling at your hesitancy and subsequent lack of an answer. “Don’t worry, why use it when you have the real thing right here? After all, I deserve a thank you.”

“For what?” You stumbled back farther until you hit your kitchen counter. It was then that you knew you were cooked. He pressed his body against yours, feeling the heat of his jacket seep through your shirt. 

“Your promotion.” His hands roamed around your body. He slightly chucked at the sight of your confused expression. “I take it they haven’t found her body yet.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Body?”

He stroked your hair. “Can’t say I don’t do anything for you. There’s a phone in my back pocket for you to call her doorman to make sure. Maybe she’ll still be kicking.” 

Shaking like a leaf, you reached into his back pocket. The device you felt was a burner, blocky, and lacking a touch screen. The number, saved as DOORMAN , was preset and ready for you to dial. You held the phone to your ear and listened to the dial tone. 

The man answered with little to no emotion. Probably nearing the end of his shift. “Hi. I need you to check on the woman that lives in C11.” You couldn’t tell if the fear in your voice was evident through the microphone. 

“Who’s this? Why are you calling?” He didn’t seem to care. None of the urgency that you desperately needed was there.

You shook your head. “No, no. That’ll waste time! I think she’s going to hurt herself and I need you to go up there right now.” The Riddler’s hands trailed lower on your body, caressing your thighs. 

The doorman shuffled from his seat and you could faintly hear him walking up the stairs to Annette’s apartment unit. He knocked, but the door was opened slightly already. The squeak of the hinges was caught by the phone’s mic. 

He screamed and you didn’t need to know what he was seeing for your heart to fall to your stomach. The first tear broke the seal and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. Hands pressed against your panties, trying to increase the friction of the fabric against your clit. “Who are you? Why did you do this?” The questions were directed towards you.

“I, I didn’t…” None of the words could form in your mouth. They could barely appear in your brain in the first place. The phone was snatched from your hand and the call ended. He threw the phone on the floor. Your hands were now free to try and keep his at bay. “What do you want from me?”

“At first, I wanted to see how much you GCPD pigs knew about me. I’ll have to admit, you intrigued me.” He caught a grip on your wrists and pushed your hands against the counter. “You don’t even know what you do to me, baby. I just want you.” If it wasn’t him, it would’ve made you swoon. It could have even been sultry. Maybe if Edward had said it.

“No. No, I’m nothing special.” You weren’t sure what your tactic was anymore. All you needed him to do was leave you alone. Preferably forever, but just tonight would work as well.

Through the mask, his eyes narrowed. He shook his head. “Don’t think like that. You can help me fix this city. Fix me .”

[asocialangel]

i saw ur post asking for blue lock requests! what about fake dating with shidou? 💕

What Could Be

↬fake dating Shidou

chapter 1 – chapter 2 – chapter 3 – [...]

Thank you for giving me a prompt ! I hope this satisfies u ! This is my first time actually writing for Shidou so prayin this isn’t ooc… And mainly i hope that you're okay with a series instead of a one shot...

This will be a multiple chapter story !! And i will post them whenever they are ready !! So please enjoy chapter one as i air my first "chapter" writing !! Yayyy 😎 Shidou x fem!manager!reader. Fake dating. 700w.

Chapter 1, Any Other Name

[no warnings]

It’s the first of the month and as every first of the month you receive your paycheck. It was your fourth one, meaning it had been four months since you started working at blue lock. You wish you could say you were a manager there, but your paycheck said otherwise. Assistant to auxiliary tasks. Yeah, that has a lesser of a ring to it. But still, you enjoyed your job, maybe because you got to be around cute boys all day, but mostly because it meant you could get away from your parents a bit. You had freshly graduated when you received a mysterious job offer, from an acquaintance of your former employer. You decided it could be a good idea to leave the family house to get some air. It was indeed ! Because you go to reinvent yourself, even make up a fake name 'cause you felt like it. So here you were Vivi.

Well you were Vivi to most people. Except for this stupid boy that always mockingly despised you, so much you weren't sure if it was a joke anymore. To Shidou, you were maid-vivi. As if the only task you did was cleaning. Well, he was kinda right but you would have never admitted it to him. You still had paperwork and PR work to do sometimes...

You took your paycheck and exited Ego's office. And as you made your way to your staff room (your personal bedroom if you may) you bumped into him, yet again. It seemed like your paths always crossed, you could swear you saw him more than your own reflection these days. “Maid-viviiii” he sang as he walked towards the cafeteria. “Shidou.” Suddenly a crazy thought came to you. You could blackmail him. And win money with it. Obviously you wouldn't extort it out of him, but more at the situation. You grinned. When was it you became evil ? 

“Are you holding up well ?” You turned around before he was too far away. He stopped and turned around too, to see your face. You could see his incomprehension at your concerned face. “What do you mean, maid vivi ? I’m always well, and I recovered perfectly from yesterday's match as a U-20, as I always do”. You wanted to mock him so badly: “even though you lost ?”. But you said instead: “Oh.. So you haven't seen then ?” God you started feeling bad for being this machiavellian. “People online, they found out about, you know… You swinging that way. I’m sorry they outed you to everyone this way. But worry not Shidou, I'll still treat you the same as I am actually an ally to ga–" "I’M NOT GAY !”. Damn he got started fast. Perfect. “WHO THE FUCK SAID THAT”. “Uhm, netizens, but as I said every sexuality is fine and–”. “I’m not a fucking gay ! I respect them obviously but I'm not like… Like them !” He was still shouting. “Oh… they lied then ? But they showed old tweets you had on your profile and–” “Impossible, I’ve never done anything like that. I swear i will find these fuckers and make them pay”. “Well they can pay all they want but now everyone knows- uh i mean thinks you’re a homosexual”. “Why do you put it that way ?! Pfff I need to prove ‘em I'm not. Maybe if i retweet hetero porn it’ll convinc–”. “Ooh i don’t think you need to go that far”. As you said the sentence, another lightbulb appeared and lit in your head. This whole prank –cause yeah it was a prank, no netizens ever found any tweet– was solely to piss him off. But now you could get something else out of it. “I think dating a girl would be enough. Good luck on finding someone while you live here 24/7 tho. Anyway I need to go now ! Good luck !”. Both these sentences were not complete lies. “Fuck…” you heard him hiss down low as you left. 

What did you get out of this crazy man stunt ? The satisfaction of seeing him suffer AND something that will most likely bring new audiences to Blue Lock TV. BLTV had already started unbeknownst to the boys. If Shidou, one of the most populars contestants, had a girlfriend, it would create new drama that’d bring a new audience. And you being the start of that would most likely mean a raise ! Double homicide. 

That was your ideal without actually thinking things through. Because who was the only girl Shidou could turn to, while living here 247 as you said ? Yup. 

[ y o u ]

A/N: AHH I NEVER MEAN FOR THIS TO BE A SERIES ??!!! but it just came naturally... This will be a new exercise so I'm actually keen to see how it goes, how i'll do !! Also i forced myself to be concise cause i always do the longessttt (almost annoying i feel like) writings so i hope it's still comprehensible. FEEDBACK IS SO GREATLY APPRECIATED !!! hehe love u, u reading this...

[piratefalls]

i emerge from my pile of blankets in the freezing midwest just long enough to drop this. there's all kinds of fun stuff this week! and, despite being housebound because of subzero temps, i'm so far behind on reading it's not even funny, so it's a little shorter than usual.

masterlist.

None of my love will go to waste by @kiwiana-writes

Alex had pulled away at the sound of the door opening, is the thing. He’d looked up at Henry with wide eyes and spit-slick, swollen lips, and Henry knows intrinsically that he will never be rid of that mental image. He’ll take it into the shower later, into bed tonight, into the rest of his natural life; if he hits his head tomorrow and winds up with some medically implausible form of amnesia, the key to unlocking his identity will be the enduring memory of a beautiful mystery man and his perfect cock-sucking mouth. Because Alex was—Christ, he was— Or, Henry has made peace with the fact that he's in love with his straight roommate. When he walks in on said "straight" roommate with a man, though, he may need to re-evaluate.

wake and shake by weather_stained

Alex wakes up to find Henry indulging in some...classical literature.

until you're sick of me by rizcriz

Henry hasn't seen his roommate in nearly two months. Alex left for Austin shortly before Thanksgiving for two weeks, and Henry left for London the day before he was set to return. They’ve had the odd facetime call, and several hundred text messages to help them tide their time apart—but that didn’t take away from the fact that Henry fucking missed him. And after three delayed flights, he’s finally standing outside their apartment door, and he’s resigned himself to the fact that it’ll still be several hours before he can finally see Alex again. He sighs and sets down his bag to dig out his keys, carefully tucks the key into the lock, and quietly opens the door, turning his back to it to pick up his carryon and grab his roller bag. As quietly as he can, he scoots backwards into the apartment, flinching as the roller bag bounces off the door frame. -- Or, surprise, it's a love confession

check-in closes at too-early p.m. by coffeecatsme

A passenger plane, even if he was in first class, wasn’t going to wait for the former FSOTUS to stop making out with his boyfriend so they can fly. Or, 5 times Alex misses his flight and 1 time he doesn't.

sometimes we break so beautiful by Anonymous

It’s his own damn fault; Alex knows this. It’s his fault for having everyone over for a small birthday party only to spend the evening whispering filthy things to Henry when no one was looking. (And when they were looking, because it’s his goddamn birthday and he can be as inappropriate with his boyfriend as he fucking wants to be.) It’s his fault for pushing Henry, for bratting off with antagonistic words like ‘what are you going to do about it—give me birthday spankings?’ and ‘do you actually think you could put me in my place? Because I’d like to see you try.’ It’s his fault for taunting Henry by suggestively licking the birthday candles, for doing anything he could possibly do to bring attention to his mouth, to his ass, to his fingers. It's his fault that he’s now on their bed, lying on top of Henry, arms stretched out in front of him on either side of Henry's head and wrists tied to the headboard.

There's Something Missing in My Heart by allmylovesatonce

When Alex goes to London to tell him he loves him, Henry sends him away. How do both of them react to being without each other and what happens when their emails are still leaked?

Waffles & Conversation by clottedcreamfudge

“I’m fine, I swear. I just need to give it a proper clean and I’ll be fine.” Ellen isn’t convinced. “Okay, but you’re letting Henry look at it later.” Alex grits his teeth for what must be the thousandth time today and tries to keep his voice level. “No, I’m not. He’s a vet, mom.” “And he’s the closest thing to a doctor we have coming tonight,” she says firmly, letting him take his hand back and raising her eyebrows at him. “It’s that or the ER, honey. Your choice.”

Keep Me Waiting (Give Me More) by bleedingballroomfloor

Alex rubs his face with his hands. “You’re telling me,” he says slowly, “that you got a guy off three times — three fucking times — without even touching his dick? I don’t even think that’s scientifically possible.” Henry’s wine-drunk grin grows a little wider. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”

Sweet, Like Sugar by everwitch

After Henry dates a series of certified assholes, Pez has had it and signs Henry up for a sugar dating app. Henry doesn’t expect much at first, but that’s before he connects with Alex; obscenely wealthy, devilishly handsome and unexpectedly sweet, Alex sweeps Henry right off his feet. But what does Alex expect in return for his extravagant generosity? And why is he so secretive about what his life looks like outside of his intimate conversations with Henry?

even sleeping you astonish me by accol

The utter irony. To be at a climate conference and have a storm descend upon the proceedings was perhaps poetic. To have the storm be intense enough to flood half the hotel and cut off transportation to the mainland was concerning. But to have it all culminate in Henry having to share a room with Alex Claremont-Diaz was as if Mother Nature herself was having a laugh.

9 to 5 by smc_27

Henry is Alex’s favourite colleague. By a fucking country mile, to be honest. He’s intensely competent, has an insane memory for process and policy, and is kind to everyone. Also? He’s fucking pretty, and Alex might be new to bisexuality, but he’s not that new. He knows what he likes, and what he likes are men with pretty eyes and kind smiles and nice cheekbones and English accents. Other men, too, but like. Be serious. Henry’s top of the list. Unfortunately, Henry lives in London. Alex lives in New York City. They work closely together and meet once a week, if not more, and Slack one another almost every day. Alex is on the legal team, and Henry is in business operations, and the second Alex met Henry for the first time, he knew he was truly fucked.

before the first light by stutteringpeach

“I don’t feel anyone. And I’m not going to feel anyone. Because I don’t have a soulmate.” Alex looks confused. “What? Everyone has a—“ “I don’t have a soulmate,” Henry tells him with a sigh, “because I don’t have a soul.”

Song In My Head by MayQueen517

Henry is an explorer and finds himself in a different situation entirely. === He’s restrained. By vines. His wrists and his ankles are encased in the surprisingly soft vines and around him is the scent of blooming honeysuckle that had charmed him so the night before. Henry groans, tilting his head back and he’s aware, briefly, of the vines gently supporting his head, as if they’re concerned over his comfort.

learning to love (without it having to hurt) by viciouslyqueer

Alex nods. “I get that.” He pauses. “You know you can talk to me if you need to, right? If things aren’t great.” Henry’s face softens, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “I know,” he murmurs. “Thanks.” He turns back to the television, and Alex forces himself to do the same. He tears his gaze away from Henry’s profile and focuses on their Star Wars marathon again, refusing to acknowledge how cuddly Henry looks in soft pajamas and fuzzy, mismatched socks. Alex’s heart leaps in his chest anyway. He knew having a crush on his roommate would be confusing, frustrating, and borderline heartbreaking. None of that stopped him.

address me properly by headabovethewater

25. Royalty kink

Pitching a Tent by cmere

Henry looks Alex up and down appraisingly. Alex feels heat rising in his neck and wills it to stop, burning with curiosity about what Henry’s going to ask. He finally says in a low voice, “Are you a serial killer?” Alex smirks. “Even if I was a serial killer, wouldn’t I just say no to get you alone?” “Dammit, you’re right,” Henry says, grinning. “I guess I’ll have to take my chances then.” “Live dangerously, sweetheart.” - or - “our mutual friend dropped out of this trip at the last minute, so hi i guess we’re spending the weekend together” AU!

take my hand if you can take me as i am by anincompletelist

It would hurt less, Alex guesses, if he wasn’t head over heels for the guy he’s supposed to be fucking through an ancient one-sided sex curse with that was partially — a lot, actually — his own fault. But. It’s not like there’s a fucking handbook. Alex has looked. 

'till the gravity's too much by IndestructibleHeart

He’s been pacing the length of the house for the better part of an hour now, restless after 48 hours of involuntary confinement. The blizzard outside is unrelenting, to the point that city officials have recommended staying indoors until conditions clear. It’s actually a “suggestion” that Alex might’ve tested if a) Henry weren’t taking the ‘sTaTe oF eMeRgEnCy’ so seriously and b) if not for the fact that their door has literally been frozen shut. “Baby,” Alex says, deliberate and slow, because he knows it’ll earn him the long-suffering, utterly helpless expression it always does. “I’m crawling out of my skin here. Can you just… distract me?”

a quick study by @whimsymanaged

Alex is new to bisexuality, and he turns to a friend for some guidance.

where every wish comes true by HypnosTheory

“Locked out?” “I forgot my keys,” Alex says with a sigh, leaning against his door with a muted shiver. He was planning on a heated Uber ride to June’s apartment, not standing out in the cold ass hallway. Alex hugs his coat closer to his chest. “My friend has my spare.” Henry nods, leaning against his own door frame. Alex isn’t sure what the man does outside of going to grad school at NYU, but it must be bench-pressing horses based on the size of his biceps. Henry reaches up to push his glasses higher on his nose and Alex swears he wasn’t that bisexual when the day started. “Would you like to wait in my apartment for your friend?” -- Alex gets locked out his apartment on Christmas Eve. He's forced to take refuge in his neighbor and occasional fuck buddy Henry's apartment, and together the two get into the Christmas spirit with the help of a festive costume and a silk ribbon.

Anything You Want by somuchworse

Alex rubs his thumb against the stubble on his chin, a soothing balm to the fire melting it’s way through Henry’s bloodstream. “You can tell me, baby. Whatever it is, I won’t care. I won’t judge you. Nothing. I’ll just listen.” And that helps. Henry opens his eyes, and his blood cools just enough to let him speak as he peers up at Alex through his eyelashes. “I’ve never had an orgasm. I’ve tried on my own, and with other people, and I always get close… But then it disappears. So, yeah. Never had one.”

I did one thing right (starry eyes sparking up my darkest night) by theprinceandagcd

"Sighing happily, Alex focuses on the feeling of Henry’s arm around his back. The tips of Henry’s fingers are brushing featherlight up and down his spine, and Alex can feel goosebumps rising on the flesh in their wake. It’s so fucking tranquil that Alex is pretty sure he could die right now and be perfectly content with his life, except – 'We should get married.' 'Pardon?' Oh. Fuck. He said that out loud."

like strawberries on a summer evening by Anonymous

He saw something wiggle in the blanket pile, and then Alex’s face appeared under a mop of messy curls, frown stuck firmly onto his face. “Ugh,” he said, from his spot on the bed. - Alex is having a rough time, and Henry is concerned, like any good boyfriend would be.

even though we know it isn't true by matherine

For so long, academics had been the one thing Alex could count on when everything else in his life was falling apart, the one thing he had always been good at. It didn’t matter that his parents were getting divorced as long as he could figure out how to factor an equation, didn’t matter that June was moving out to go to UT-Austin as long as he could analyze Jane Eyre, didn’t matter that his mother was on the campaign trail more often than he ever saw her as long as he could balance lacrosse with his position as valedictorian. But now, every time a paper comes across his desk marked to within an inch of its life, bleeding a C – or even worse, a D scrawled in bright red ink, his chest grows a little tighter, his breathing a little quicker. Thankfully, he’d not yet managed to fuck up spectacularly enough to get himself a real, honest to God F. He’s not sure he’d survive it. He’s already not sure how well he’s surviving. Alternatively: Alex is failing a class. Henry learns how to help him cope.

Twice the speed (of you and me) by @myheartalivewrites

“Hey. So, you know Pez?” Alex asks bluntly. No easy way into this, he’s decided. Henry looks up from his phone, frowning. “My best mate?” “Yeah, that one.” ——— Alex has an idea.

Don't Quit It by inexplicablymine

“And goddamn last but not least on my Hit It and Don’t Quit It list would be the Saracens rugby player Henry Fox. That man has great depths, and he could so easily plumb my depths, if you know what I’m saying. An all-around fantastic player, but also someone who is ridiculously smart off the field. And we all know by now that everyone on this list features my mile-wide competency kink. Henry, if you are seeing this, we could play around with some balls that aren’t just in play.” Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck. Alex has just accidentally outed himself to 6.7 million people. And according to the comments section, they seem to be all too aware. Or... Announcing your crush via viral TikTok... that's one way to get his attention ;)

Hall of Fame by politics_and_prose

“It is an unbelievable honor to be inducted into the New York Mets Hall of Fame. If I could tell the eight year old boy sitting in the stands at Shea that we would end up here, I don’t think I would. This journey has been … it’s been everything to me. Thank you, New York, for loving me as much as I love you. Thank you.”

Sip You Like Cosmic Juice by @sparklepocalypse

“There’s this… charity rugby match in Windsor next month that my mate, Percy’s foundation organizes. I, um… I was wondering if you might want to… be my guest.” Here’s the thing – Alex knows that Henry is athletic and strong. He’d felt and, to some extent, seen evidence of this in the way Henry’s hands had gripped at his waist and back in the Red Room, the ease with which Henry had manhandled him onto the sofa in his bedroom, and in how solid Henry had felt beneath him as they’d tumbled into the supply closet at London Children’s Hospital. And Henry’s a royal – being sporty seems to be a baseline job requirement for modern royals. So yeah, Alex knows Henry’s got some muscle, and as he walks toward the stands that line either side of the rugby pitch in Windsor, Alex thinks he’s prepared. He finds a seat in the stands among spectators wearing the colors of Henry’s team – red, white, and blue – then scans the pitch for a familiar head of blond hair. It’s probably for the best that he’d sat down first, because when his gaze alights on Henry out on the field, Alex promptly swallows his tongue. (Movieverse; what if everything's the same, except the charity sporting event is rugby?)

if you ever want me to tag you, let me know!

tagging: @starkfridays @stilesgivesmefeels

[igncrxntripley]

5. “You do this thing with your hands when you get nervous.  Why?” with rhea ripley would be so adorable

Nerves

synopsis (from this list of prompts): Y/N tells Rhea about how nervous she gets before her girl's matches.

tags: SFW, nerves/minor anxiety, fem!reader

A/N: this was lowkey difficult to write so i apologize if it's garbage 😭

Rhea and Y/N were truly getting the best of both worlds; not only was Y/N putting in work as Rhea’s manager when they were in front of the cameras, but when they went home they got to be their normal selves. Y/N not only knew and loved Rhea, but she knew and loved Demi. She was convinced it made her the luckiest woman in the world. However, that didn’t mean there weren’t difficult parts of their jobs. 

Y/N got a stomach ache almost every time Demi went into the ring. Both of them had seen so many of their friends and coworkers get seriously injured that Y/N was convinced Demi would be next. They’d also had some close calls which made her even more nervous when thinking about those incidents happening again. 

The two of them were getting ready for a live show where Demi was going into a pretty harsh Street Fight match. Knowing that anything goes in those matches meant so much room for something to go wrong and it had been freaking Y/N out all day. The tell-tale sign that she was nervous or anxious was when she’d begin fidgeting with her fingers, tapping them against things or cracking them to relieve some of the tension. And Demi had started to catch onto it but never asked. 

After the two of them finished getting ready and Demi finished lacing up her boots, she decided to ask Y/N what was going through her mind. She sat next to her girl on the couch in their dressing room, holding her hands so she could focus on their conversation. “You do this thing with your hands when you get nervous.” She said to Y/N with a knowing look on her face, making Y/N blush and look down at their hands. “Why?” Demi asked. 

Y/N bit her lip this time and managed to look up at Demi. “I just…your job freaks me out, I guess.” She chuckled awkwardly before looking back down. Demi raised an eyebrow at her and smirked. “It’s your job too, you know?” Y/N rolled her eyes and bumped their shoulders together. “Smart ass.” 

Demi chuckled and pulled Y/N a little closer. “I’m serious, though. Why?” She asked again, letting Y/N take a deep breath before explaining herself. “It just freaks me out when I think about you getting hurt, that’s all. Especially going into these harsh matches.” Demi got it at that moment. Her face fell and she lifted Y/N face up to make eye contact with her. “You know I signed up for this, bug. Right?” She asked her girl softly. 

Y/N nodded and began fidgeting with her girlfriend’s fingers. “Yeah but that doesn’t make it easier.” She said. Demi let out a soft sigh and pulled Y/N into her side. “I just need you to trust that we know what we’re doing. If I didn’t trust myself or anyone I went into the ring with, then I wouldn’t be here.” Demi rubbed Y/N’s arm and kissed the top of her head. “And if I get hurt, then we work through it. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Even though Y/N was still nervous, she knew she needed to trust Demi more than anything. She nodded at her girlfriend’s words and squeezed her arms around her waist. “I can’t promise my nerves will ease at all.” Y/N said softly. Demi nodded and tilted her head again to give her girl a gentle kiss. “It’ll be fine. You just need to trust me.” Y/N trusted Demi with all of her heart, and even though this industry was difficult sometimes when it came to watching the person you loved get hurt, Y/N was happy she was able to do it by Demi’s side.

[georgiapeach30513]

Inside Her Fantasy, Part 3

Summary: Ransom just wants to show you off

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings:  language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Ransom watches Charlie run around the backyard. Her little legs look like a blur as she flails her arms around, letting out a yell of gibberish. She’s so tiny with such a huge personality, and a bit excited about her visitor that is only coming to see her and Maeve, so she says. He sighs, taking a look at his watch before he’s looking back at the tiny girl.

“What cha waiting on, Ranny?” Bucky teases, but Ransom swats a hand on his arm. “You got it bad. The sex that good?”

“No,” he answers flatly, still watching Charlie. Sex just hadn’t happened, and he didn’t even feel like he needed it. Just you. Eventually it will happen.

“You’re hoping it’ll get better?” Ransom looks towards his best friend and teammate, narrowing his eyes as he shakes his head no. “I’m not sure I follow here, brother.”

“She doesn’t have sex unless she knows it’s love,” Bucky’s mouth falls agape, but his wife playfully smacks his head before placing Nixon in his lap. “What?”

“Ran, I think that’s sweet. At least you know — well, you know,” Ransom’s brows furrows as he looks at the woman confused. “I mean that she’s not just jumping into this. She likes you, and you like her. And you know where you both stand, and you’re not letting anything physical get in between the two of you, and you’re not already bored with her,” Ransom doesn’t want anyone thinking less of you. He’s seen the media. He knows you’ve had various boyfriends, and he knows what everyone thinks. Clearly it’s not what he knows.

“She’s exciting though. I don’t like that her tour is taking her away from me, but it’s almost finished,” he looks back towards the little girl who had lost none of her energy. Opening and closing his mouth while he wonders if he should think out loud, or just vocalize what he’s thinking.

A whirlwind. That’s what the two of you have been. It had been somewhat difficult to keep the budding romance secret, but your team did everything possible for you to spend actual time together. And if you were overseas, it has to be FaceTime. Interference with his season was keeping him from going to you, but he would, as soon as the season was finished.

“I’ve never put this much time in a relationship, and I’ve never been more scared to take something public, while also wanting to protect whatever this is,” Bucky’s wife tilts her head to the side, placing a hand on her husband’s thigh. “I wanna show her off, but our time right now is special. It’s ours.”

“Your such a typical man.”

“Hey!” Bucky protests,

“It’s not a bad thing. Ransom is just feeling some type of way because he can’t let everyone see how happy he is, and who is making him happy. Ran, have you been listening to the game commentary? They know you’re happy. You’re playing better now than you ever have, and the Pats are set to win…”

“AHHH!” Both men scream, putting their hands over their ears. Giggling, Nixon joins in, and even Charlie stops running around to copy everyone’s movement. She had almost said win the Super Bowl, and it’s something neither men liked to say out loud. “It’s bad luck to say that, babe!”

“You two and your superstitions.”

“Shh! Mama, do you hear that?” The adults all freeze, but Ransom jumps up quickly. Jogging towards the gate because he knows that sound. That sound means you. “Daddy, can I say it?” He nods, and Charlie starts chuckling. Covering her hand with her mouth, trying to peak through the gate to see Ransom pick you up, and spin you around. “Yep, he’s got it so bad. Can she have a slumber party again? Can she sleep in my bed again? But instead of Ranny can I sleep in there? Can…”

“Charlie, shh, she really needs to try sleeping in a bed that isn’t a twin size princess bed,” her mother whispers, giving a look back to you and Ransom sweetly kissing before she’s watching her giggly daughter. Hoping Charlie doesn’t watch too long when you and Ransom deepen the kiss.

“He really likes her, mama. Look it, they’re still kissing,” she gives a point over to the two of you, and has to look away quickly.

“Charlotte Barnes, would you stop,” Bucky snickers, shaking his head at Nixon, but Charlie couldn’t be contained. Dropping her whole body on the ground in a fit of laughter. “You two, no. Now Nixie is gone, too. You three are rude. It’s sweet.”

“Daddy, sing that K.I.S.S.I.N.G song again!”

“Don’t you dare, Bucky! Charlie, you keep it up, and Ransom isn’t going to bring her over here anymore,” Charlie sits up a bit. Trying to contain her laughter as much as her little body can, but then she looks to see you jumping in Ransom’s arms. Your own arms wrapped around his neck, continuing the kissing.

“Can they breathe?” Bucky’s head falls back, and he howls in laughter, and the little girl’s chuckles begin again. It’s like a cycle between her and her dad. She just says what Bucky won’t.

“You’re ridiculous. I’m surprised you haven’t brought Maeve out of her hole with this incessant — hey, guys,” you bite your kiss swollen lips, and place your other hand on Ransom’s arm. Fully sinking into him. You didn’t think about the Barnes’ already being out here, and judging by the laughter they saw you and Ransom in just a tiny makeout session. You missed him, and missed his lips.

“Hey, it’s okay. Charlie’s used to seeing people kissing, huh, sister?” Her mom gives you a reassuring smile. Her and Bucky have been together forever, of course she saw them kissing.

“Not like that. Daddy, do you think some football man is going to pick me up and squeeze my butt like that?” Oh my god! Your cheeks fire up in embarrassment and you hide your face completely in Ransom’s arm. His meaty hand presses against your temple in an attempt to hide your burning cheeks, but you feel the rumble of a laugh in his chest. “You do know what a butt is for, right, Ranny?”

“Yes, Charlie, I know that butts are for pooping.”

Bucky clears his throat, as he stands up, saying your name with a friendly nod, “Someone else is very excited to see you again, aren’t ya, Nixie boy?”

“How did,” you never know how to approach the subject of Nixon’s legs. Strong little baby with no movement from his knees down. You could see the pain in Bucky and Sarge’s eyes over their littlest love not being able to walk yet. “I mean it’s not my business, but I — I’ve been thinking about him. And,” Ransom gives the hand he’s holding a slight squeeze, and you stop speaking. Waiting on his parents to clue you in on his latest surgery.

“He still doesn’t seem to have feeling in those legs, huh, Nixie. But he will. We’re going to see him running around like Charlie one day soon. You can hold him again,” just like last time, his nose scrunches up into the sweetest little smile until you reach forward, and pull him out of Bucky’s arms, and into your own. “There, now the men can…”

“Start up the grill, Bucky Barnes. Don’t stand there acting you think the women are going to do the work. I know our babies are hungry, and I’m sure you are, too. Where did you travel from?” Leave it to Sarge to make sure the men aren’t sitting around ‘watching’ the children while you and her cook.

“The last stop was Italy. I’ve got a few days off.”

“And she chose to spend it with us. We’ll play with the kids, you two men can cook,” she wiggles a finger towards you, and you follow her over to the furniture. Slyly looking back at Ransom with a smile. They didn’t treat you like anything but human here. The girls even felt more comfortable around you. “Bucky also makes a delicious margarita. Drink as many as you like, and we’ll make sure you and Ransom get home.”

“Oh, um — well,” you didn’t fully trust yourself alone with Ransom. At least with a pink canopy above your head you could let the hormones rage, and still want to talk with him all night long.

“Charlie’s princess bed still has your name on it. Just make sure you sneak in there after she’s snuck out, okay?” Nodding your head, you give Nixon a quick smooch to his chunky cheeks before you sit down with her, and you realize why she designed her backyard like this. Perfect view of the tall men, and of Charlie who dances around with her ribbon. Putting on a show for you, so you didn’t have to perform. Being with the Barnes just felt like that. No performance. Just you.

There’s something peaceful about this family. They’re normal, but completely get the public persona. They keep things simple, despite their mansion. They give their kids a beautiful life, without spoiling them too much. They love hard, and play harder. The simplicity of being here versus in a city or even on a tour bus is the most comforting thing, and you find yourself snuggling closer into Ransom.

Your legs drape over him as you listen to him and Bucky animatedly talk about the last game or practice. You didn’t even care what they were talking about as long as you could hear his voice, and feel his breath. Your hand rubs over his belly, and you wonder why you couldn’t have found him sooner. Of all the men you’ve dated, none were such a man like Ransom. He is bigger than any of your previous boyfriends. Taller, wider, all man.

Ransom is also successful in his own field. You didn’t feel you were competing with his fame. And he isn’t toxic enough to blame you for his problems or lack of recognition. And this little family — you want to be a part of it so much. Bucky just lets Charlie’s sleeping form squish up against him while he talks, while Sarge cuddles up so close to her little baby. The only person you hadn’t seen the whole day was Maeve.

But right now you hear her. Off in the distance, strumming a guitar, and the softest sweetest singing voice. A voice so tender you crave more. You look up at Ransom, and he offers a smile, but it’s Sarge that uses her head to motion where Maeve is. You hadn’t missed the treehouse on your first visit, but you’d assumed it was Charlie’s. She nods to you, and you get up from Ransom.

Your bare feet carry you softly up a treehouse you wish you had as a child. There isn’t even a ladder, but stairs instead. Her voice gets a bit louder, but there’s an edge of timidness to it. This girl has nothing to be shy about. People would sell their soul to get that soft of a voice.

Peeking your head through the door, you hear her growl in frustration, and lean over to scratch out a few lines before she’s back to strumming her guitar. Memories of you in a studio, even younger than her, doing what you loved, and now wishing you had a normal childhood. Wishing your dad wouldn’t have pushed so hard for you to be the star you are. But then, where would you be? It’s easy to take away moments of your life, but it opens up endless possibilities for your current present life.

You step on a wrong board, and Maeve turns around to look at you, her eyes getting wider before she looks back at her notebook, and sneaks it under her leg. “That board always creaks,” she answers plainly, starting to lay her guitar down.

“Please, don’t stop on my account.”

“I can’t compare to you.”

“The only competition you should have is with yourself. We’re all different. Different lives, different experiences. Those experiences give us our stories. And you take your stories and write?” She shrugs, and her fingers tap on her guitar a moment. “It’s a pretty place you’ve got here.”

“The house was dad’s first big purchase. He’d secured a great contract, and they finally felt comfortable buying the house. Mom was so scared of going back to where we were and in an apartment with Ransom,” you sit down across from her on another beanbag, ready to hear whatever story she wanted to tell you. Charlie never had to see her parents struggle, but Maeve was a part of it.

“I wanted a treehouse so bad, and mom told me to just wait, and we’d get some extra money. Ran, picked me up from school one day, and took me to this place, and he let me design it. Told me I could work it off in songs.”

“You’ve always liked singing?” She shrugs again, but picks up her guitar. Her fingers glide over the strings, and you can tell she tries not to look you in the eye much.

“I liked writing more. Most of the songs are different versions of lyrics to yours.”

“Like a parody?”

She shakes her head no giggling. Strumming a few chords when she looks up at you, “I simplified them for a kid. You would sing about love, I’d sing about playing in the dirt, or begging my dad to buy me a guitar. The melody had the same rhythm. And no, I don’t remember them. I’m sure they have videos of me. It was just us and Ransom for years. Him and dad were unstoppable in the game. Mom became more secure with our finances, and she wanted a baby. And it never happened. They tried, and they cried, and then that hellcat of my sister was born. I was able to bond with her because I could care for her. I’d sneak into her room and sleep on her floor, until she was the one sneaking in my room.”

“It’s a good thing, I guess. Where would Ransom sleep?”

She chuckles, finally meeting your eyes. “He used to sleep on our couch when we lived in an apartment. His chest was where I slept. Everyone took turns raising me, until Mimi stepped in,” you quirk up an eyebrow, wondering who this woman was. “Ransom’s mom. Dad’s parents helped when they could. Mom’s family wanted her to get rid of me, and then kicked her out. Mimi wanted to help, but they wouldn’t let her, so she helped with her time. Pulled some strings and got dad and Ran to meet the right people. He’s very important to us.”

“I can tell. He’s very important to me, too.”

”I can tell,” the two of you sit in silence for a moment. Assessing the situation as much as possible before you point to the notebook under her leg. “I’m just working on something.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It won’t be as good as yours,” you hope this is just a thing with you, and that she didn’t lack that much confidence. Being a teenage girl is so hard.

“Do you believe the words you wrote?” This time she doesn’t shrug, but nods her head. “Then it’s perfect,” deeply sighing she strums her guitar and her soft shy voice sings out a simple but truthful song about some stupid boy. No longer singing about dirt but about emotions and pain. Stopping abruptly in the song before growling again.

“I’m stuck right there. I just can’t get that part right,” you hum a moment. Had memorized the melody that she was playing before her mouth drops open, “You already know it?”

“Not really. But you had a good flow. I liked the bit of a breakdown. What if…”

“I got it!” She yips, going on to pick it up a few bars back, and adds in a cute little line before giggling, and scribbling it down. “Thank you!”

“I didn’t do anything, that was all you.”

“Hey, can you tell mom I’ll be down in about thirty minutes?” That is your cue to leave. You understand when you get in the moment, and need your space to let creativity strike fully. Taking your leave to walk down the stairs, and only Sarge is left putting away a few toys.

“Each man had a kid. Ransom took Nixon. It sounds really cute, but it’s just that he didn’t want to clean up this mess. Putting Nixon to bed is a lot easier than this. You want to grab that trash bag?” Responding with picking it up, you help her stuff the remaining garbage in there, and she chuckles. “I always thought you would be a stuck up princess.”

“Oh, is that what you really thought I would be?” Oddly enough people thought a lot of things about you, but you mostly wanted to be left alone.

“It’s not a you thing. A lot of celebrities don’t look at the wives of football players as anything of importance. I’m okay staying in the background. And well, you — you don’t know how to.”

“Ransom’s teaching me,” she offers you a genuine smile before closing up the shed of toys. “Do you like me?”

“I like you just fine, sweetheart. You gotta understand when he brought you to meet my kids and he shows you’re in a relationship. It's more personal. I have nothing against you in the least bit. But my babies are my priority. Especially the girls. Nixie doesn’t know any better. They loved you as someone they would never meet, and now they really love you as their uncle Ran’s girlfriend. Now can I ask you a question?”

Sighing, you nod your head. She meant a lot to not only Ransom, but his mom. You had grown to have a lot of respect for her, especially knowing what she went through to get where she is. “Do you care about him? I mean really really care about him?”

“Yeah, I really really do.”

“Good. Because that man has been good to me, my husband, and my children. He’s a big brother to me. They’re more than just teammates. They’re life mates. I will never get rid of Ransom, and he’s never getting rid of us. So what is this?”

Looking up at the sky, you try and think of the right words. Choosing to shrug your shoulders when you look back at her, “I don’t know. I like it. I like it so much, and I’ve never felt so — so free. Today was amazing, and we didn’t do anything. There weren't the cars, there wasn't the glamor and the drinking. But it was the most at ease I’ve ever felt. And I just want to protect it.”

“That’s good. Now, can I offer you a piece of advice?” You nod your head, trying to ignore Ransom who had softly said your name out the back door. “Take your time in this way. The moment you two go public you know what’s going to happen. Secure your emotions and relationship before that happens. Make sure he’s ready for your level of fame. This woman you were today is not the persona on the stage.”

She is right. You want to protect whatever is happening between you and Ransom keep the two of you in this safe bubble. You aren’t sure if you want to share him with the world. Just show him off a bit. When you’re ready.

Ransom whistles as he looks around the tight little area. Leaning over behind your tech who is only slightly annoyed, so he pushes Ransom away from him. “Please, don’t ask me what any of these buttons are for. It’s complicated. Sit in that chair, sit on the couch, or…”

“Do I get to go in there with her?” You giggle as the tech turns around to glare at Ransom shaking his head. “Why not?”

“Do you sing?”

“No.”

“Are you offering any sounds for the track?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Then stay on this side. I don’t need your breathing in the background. Alright, the boyfriend is here. Can we go again?” You want to sing and giggle inside with that word, and Ransom straightens up his posture. That word is getting thrown around a lot more in your inner circle, and you’re loving it. You wait for the ticks of the snare drum before you start singing, and Ransom moves closer to the tech, furrowing his brows, but you’re too into the song.

“Who wrote this?”

“Maybelle Browning.”

“No.”

“Yes. Saw the sheet this morning.”

“No, she didn’t. Maeve Barnes wrote this. Hey,” he walks closer, tapping on the glass, and the tech glares at him.

“She can’t hear you.”

“Stop the recording now!” You glance up at the two men when everything halts. Putting up your headphones, and Ransom says something to your tech before barging into the studio. “What are you doing?”

“Recording a song that Maeve wrote.”

“What? H-h-he said that Maybelle dipshit wrote it. What is going on?” You feel a bit guilty for not explaining the situation to Ransom, but you weren’t sure he would know it was Maeve’s song.

“Ran, Maybelle Browning. M.B. Maeve didn’t want her name on it, but she sent it to me with a recording and said she wrote it for me, but didn’t expect it on the album, but then I asked her if I could record it roughly, and send it to her for consideration. She’s getting full credit. She wants this. I wouldn’t…what — did you think I was stealing from her? I wouldn’t. I adore that little girl, and Ran — don’t be mad.”

“Sorry, I’m very protective of — she gets writing credit? And paid?”

“She’s a minor, so I want her parents present when we discuss that with the lawyers, but if she wants it on the album, I do. But I want her full approval. It’s amazing. Ask Todd. Ran, she is incredible. Did you really think I would do that?” He shakes his head no, pulling you into his body. “You promise?”

“That’s just my girl, and I think she’s the best and deserves the world, so I’ll make sure she gets it. It’s not you, it's this life. I know how brutal things can be.”

“You’re talking to a girl who has re-recorded all my past songs, so now I have ownership of the copyrights. I will make sure she gets the best contract, but I won’t be the only artist that will want her lyrics,” Ransom pulls you back, looking down at you, and you want to melt into him. “You promise you didn’t think I would do that? If I can help her achieve a goal, I want to.”

“No. I think you get taken advantage of enough. I have this need to protect everyone I love — and care about,” he softly slots his lips against yours, and you return the kiss. Snaking your arms up around his neck before he lifts you up off the ground. Wrapping your legs around his waist when the tech leaves.

He might not have said it directly, but he said something. It is enough, you’d been feeling the same things. But now you just don’t know how you can keep this all secret. You want to shout to the world that Ransom Drysdale is your man, and you don’t care about the past drama of exes. You care about his smile, and his scent, his thick fingers entwined into yours.

Your fingers weave through his slicked back hair when he pulls off your lips. “Come to a game,” you smile, shaking your head no. You need to know he’s ready. Privacy will be a thing of the past. “Please, come to a game.”

“Ran…”

“No, excuses. I need you at a game. I need our dates not to be at home, or in recording studios. I need to…”

“Claim me?”

“Something like that. Please, I’ll have a comfy little box. Bring a friend, bring whoever. Just watch me play on something that’s not a television.”

“So you want us to go public before you’ve ever seen me naked?” You wiggle your eyebrows, giving him the sweetest smile. You’ve already decided you want to go. There’s nothing more that you want to do besides see Ransom play.

“If you want me to see what you look like naked, I’ll gladly look. But I can’t stand us not being able to be together in public. I want us to be normal, and do normal couple things, and ride off in a car after the game. Just me and you, baby.”

“You know when you’re with me things will never be normal, right? People are going to dig into everything you’ve done. All your social media posts, all your past girlfriends, everything.”

“I know, buddy, but I don’t care. What I care about is you and me. Why are you smiling at me like that? Is that a yes?” You shake your head no, grinning from ear to ear. That name. He wouldn’t know, “What?”

“You called me buddy. That's what my parents have always called me. It’s just sweet.”

“Ehh, I don’t share nicknames, Bud,” he leans back in, giving you the sweetest kiss before resting his forehead against your own, “So what do you say?”

“I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

“Under one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You come to Rhode Island and meet my mom afterwards,” Ransom gulps loudly, but nods his head. “Hey, I’ve been on your turf, and met the Barnes’, so now it’s your turn. And if you could not get hurt during the game.”

“No promises. It’s football, Bud.”

If silence was a sound it would be now. Putting on a bright smile, you let your bodyguards lead you to the designated area. It takes seconds for people to realize it was you, but it feels like an eternity. A simple outfit, but the Patriots jacket you’re wearing is obvious.

Smiling as you talk to the bodyguard on the right, trying to ignore the questions of why you’re here. “Didn’t Drysdale do an interview saying he was going to give her a bracelet with his number on it at a show?”

“She’s just looking for her next victim to write about.”

“Does she even understand football?”

“She’s made comments about Drysdale, and how he was hot. She always gets what she wants.”

“She’s got an 81 on her bracelet! Oh my god!”

It’s all in the details. Of course you are going to wear something that is a nod to Ransom. They just couldn’t see the other details. Holding your head high as you’re led into the box. Taking a deep breath as you look at Ransom’s stage. Everyone else could make your relationship ugly, but you didn’t have to. You are Ransom Drysdale’s girlfriend, and you’re proud of him, so you deserve to be there just like everyone else. Let the press speculate and gossip. You are here to see your boyfriend.

Trying to ignore the cameras is proving difficult. It is part of your job to notice them. Wishing they would put the cameras on the field. On anything but you. You just want to eat chicken tenders, drink beer, and hang out with the Barnes’. Is that so hard?

It’s everyone else on the team that notices you first. Bucky taps on someone’s chest, pointing up at the box, and even a little wave. It creates a dominos effect with the other teammates. Pointing, and crowing about how Ransom was able to wrangle you.

The coach hits Ransom on the shoulder, turning around to point at the box, and his crystal blue eyes spot you. His mouth turns up into that boyish grin, and he mouths, “I can’t believe she’s here,” winking a bit towards you. His focus completely gone as he smiles at you.

Everyone else’s pointing and comments fade away, and you only see that gorgeously handsome man. Your number 81. Normally you have constant flowing of words in moments like these. Trying to think of how you could tell this story with lyrics, but with Ransom there’s just him and an undeniable invisible string between you.

Each year up until this moment it has gotten shorter. Wound tighter as the two of you are pulled together. Now that string has wrapped around both of your legs, tethering you to the other. Everything else disappears but that string and Ransom. Even when you aren’t with him you feel the tug of needing to be with him.

No wonder you had bad relationships that you wanted to work, but something pulled you away. It was this amazing tie that was bringing you to right now. Right here with Ransom. The world may be watching, but all you see is him.

“I see you, Bud,” he mouths, and you get an ever bigger smile on your face. It’s like this love story was written by divine powers. And written just for you and Ransom.

“I only see you, Ran.”

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @pandaxnienke @kcd15 @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @magnificentsaladllama @lokislady82 @rogersbarber

[nestastits]

This is part 1 of my post about Cassian defending Nesta/thinking about Nesta since people have said he never does. Part 2 will be posted after I completely finish my reread ☺️. I want to thank @puffybistcuit for giving me the idea 🫶🏻.

“Cassian leaned forward in his chair, as if he’d leap between them. She could have sworn something like pain had etched itself across his face” (Nesta talking about Cassian when her and Feyre were arguing)

“Cassian’s fist tightened at the implied insult that they didn’t trust her enough to go farther than that…”

“Every word, every language he knew had vanished at the sight of her striding past…”

“He knew if he ever got the name of the human bastard who’d put his hands on Nesta, nothing would stop him from finding the man… He’d often contemplated how he’d kill the man, if Nesta gave him the go-ahead. Peeling his skin from his bones would be a good start.”

“If Briallyn made a move against Nesta, he’d kill the queen himself.”

“… hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten-“ This is Mate instincts. Lucien had to use his high lord powers (that he’s still unaware of 😭) to calm Cassian down.

“Cassian’s rage flashed red before his eyes. He’d revealed that weakness earlier. Let Eris see how much Nesta meant, what he’d do to defend her.”

“How his skin had become too tight at the way she said his name…”

“Wiping the sweat from his brow, he noted that her lips had taken on a blue tinge. Unacceptable.”

“… the flickering light dancing in her beautiful hair.”

“…he offered, suddenly desperate for anything to remove that hollowness from her.”

“The hesitation made his chest tighten unbearably… He wondered if she noticed his fingers trembling slightly.”

“He struggled to calm his racing heart…”

“His mouth quirked upward. She wasn’t fighting him. “For you, I have no strategies.”

“She surveyed him again, and Cassian willed himself to stand still, to appear open and non threatening and not like his very heart was in his bloody, outstretched hands.”

“I wanted you to know that. That we don’t- that I don’t hate you.”

“With that, she walked through the doorway into the House, as if she hadn’t hit him right in the gut, first with the words, then by using his name.”

“… though she could have sworn that her door opened at one point. Could have sworn a familiar, beckoning scent filled her room… He hadn’t seen anything when he’d poked his head into her room…” (Cassian checked on her after she missed dinner)

“There never are,” Nesta said coolly. She blocked out the image of Tomas’s face.” “There are here,” Cassian growled, as if he sensed the direction of her thoughts.”

“He’d gone still, though. “Something tried to eat you on another day?” “He blinked, his Siphons glowing. “Tell me.” … “Across from her, Cassian’s face was pale.”

“It never mattered to me whether you took half the Cauldron’s power or a drop. It still doesn’t matter.”

“Cassian surveyed her. Gazed into her eyes and breathed, “Beautiful.” 🥹

“He just stared and stared at her, marveling-hungry.”

“… Cassian leaned to whisper in her ear, “The first time I saw that look on your face, you were still human. Still human, and I nearly went to my knees before you.”

“His smile brushed against her temple. “Your power is a song, and one I’ve waited a very, very long time to hear, Nesta.”

“Cassian’s hands remained at his sides, though. As if waiting for her to give permission.”

“I’m always thinking of that look on your face.”

“It’ll take time,” Cassian consoled her when he read whatever lay etched on her face as she stepped into the training ring. He added a shade softly, “Keep reaching out your hand.”

“Cassian asked, hazel eyes dim with worry.”

“Cassian swore softly. Nesta is making progress- I know she is. Something set her off … It’ll take time. Maybe no more visits from her sisters, for the time being. At least not without her permission. He didn’t want to isolate Nesta. Not at all. If Elain wants to see her again, let me ask Nesta first.”

“Calm the fuck down, Cassian snapped. They have their own shit to sort out. You threatening to obliterate Nesta every time it comes up doesn’t help.”

“Whatever you need to throw at me, I can take it. I won’t break.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, voice rasping. “I am not like you and the others.” “That’s never bothered me one bit.”

“But the moment she had kissed him in the hall, he’d lost all semblance of sanity. He’d turned into something just short of an animal, licking and biting at her neck, unable to think clearly beyond the base instinct to claim.” (Mating instinct to claim each other. Mating instinct taking over making him loose control to claim her)

“Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.” (Cassian warning az to calm down after Nesta’s fight with Elain)

“Cassian cleared his throat. “Does it matter?” … “Even as something kindled in her chest at his words. His defense of her.”

“… Nesta dared a look at Cassian, who gave her a soft smile. Like in saying the few words she’d managed to get out, she’d somehow done something worthy. Her chest tightened.”

“He couldn’t stomach the thought of Nesta putting herself in danger, but he understood her motivations entirely.”

“Could only admire that she had stepped up…”

“His voice was rough as he said, “I’ve never seen you with your hair down.” … “It’s beautiful.”

“… played the one card that would get Cassian to remove his focus from an opponent.” (Az shoots a look to Nesta knowing Cassian would halt and make sure she was safe so he could hit him during their sparring scene. Dirty move Azzy 😭)

“It had happened before- against Hybern. Nesta had screamed his name, and even in the midst of the battlefield, he’d abandoned his soldiers and rushed for her, not caring about anything other than reaching her, saving her.”

“He knew Nesta had given the gift in part to tempt Emerie to join, but also from the kindness of her heart.”

“… but seeing Nesta’s tentative smile as she’d shoved the tea and spices into a bag had him suppressing the urge to push her against the wall and kiss her.”

“Cassian laughed, his earlier gloom chased away. By her. All by her.”

I want to remind all of you Cassian is an “actions speak louder than words” person. “I love you” does not need to be written out or said for him to love her. He shows his love through actions and physical touch. Please do not leave hate comments, if you disagree simply do not interact or just block me.

[doyozen]

hola <3. can i request idolbf!haech feeling insecure, jealous and getting sulky bc he thinks, gn!reader is spending too much time w their male friend? and gn!reader makes it up to him w cuddles and assures him that he's the only one. love ur work <3

Hi lovely thank you for your request❤️ i hope you enjoye and thank YOU for loving my work ILY!!

idol!haechan x gn!reader

genre fluff

warnings haechan is a jealous boy </33

you were incredibly proud to say that lee donghyuck is the love of your life, although your relationship wasn’t perfect just like every other relationship in the world, the two of you hardly got into serious arguments and always found ways to talk clearly about your feelings.

haechan warned you that when you started dating, there was going to be times he was much too busy to spend time with you, and you understood that. you were fully aware that he’s an idol and is going to be busier than you liked, but you loved him enough to push through it and cheer him on.

it had started up again, nct 127 was preparing for a tour and your already very hard working boyfriend was pushing himself to his limit. you were worried, of course, but he insisted that he was strong enough and there was nothing to be concerned about.

“do you have plans tomorrow?” he asked, turning away from his gaming setup to plop next to you onto his bed. you instantly dropped your phone next to you to give him your full, undivided attention.

the bed dipped a bit when he got comfortable next to you, and you felt all of your stress and worries disappear with him being next to you and pulling you into him. “um, i think somin and myungsoo wanted to get lunch?”

his head perks up a bit, “myungsoo?”

“yeah, you met him, remember? at my birthday party a couple months ago?”

the boy thinks for a bit and then hums. “right, yeah, i remember.”

“we haven’t seen each other since the party, so it’ll be nice to catch up!” you continue, not thinking a single thing of it.

you hadn’t thought anything of it because the entirety you’ve been dating haechan, he had you believing he was not the jealous type, which was a big fat lie. of course you never really did much to make him jealous, not because you felt like you couldn’t have guy friends, you just didn’t have many friends in general. haechan tries to swallow the jealousy bubbling inside him because he didn’t want to seem like a crazy, overprotective boyfriend.

to his own surprise, he doesn’t think much of it the next day, he found himself getting over it over-night because at the end of the day, you chose him, and he chose you. he had no reason to be jealous.

“who’s this on y/n’s story?” mark asks him, pointing his phone in his groupmates direction to reveal a picture of the two friends and your lunch posted on your instagram story.

haechan sighs and grabs a towel to wipe the sweat dripping down his forehead, leaning in to get a good look at what mark was showing him.

fuck, he thinks, he’s attractive. why does mark know me so well? or… he thinks he does. i am NOT jealous. i’m their boyfriend. not him.

“what do you mean? that’s their friends, duh,” he says in a tone that made it seem like it was obvious, and it was. mark was just very used to seeing his best friend get jealous even over him having other friends. although it was secretly adorable, it was unlike him.

“right…” the older sings, not saying another word as the two of them got up to finish practice.

haechan calls you that night and even though it was quite late and you both were exhausted, you never went a day without talking on the phone. “hi, baby.” he greets, and your heart skips a beat at the pet name.

“hi,” you grin, “how was your day?”

“tiring,” he groans without hesitation, “taeyong hyung was being a little bitch—sorry, he’s a great leader but i absolutely hate when he puts on the strict leader act. it drives me crazy.”

you laugh at your boyfriends rants. “poor baby.”

“yes, feel bad for me. i have it so hard,” he sarcastically pours and you glare at him, making him raise his hands in defense. “sorryyyy. how was your day?”

“it was fine, i had fun with somin and myungsoo, and i had yummy food, but… i was thinking about you all day.”

haechan gasps and puts his hand to his heart, squeezing his eyes shut playfully. “y/n… cuteness overload. don’t do this to me.” he was so cheesy but it was so cute that you couldn’t help but laugh every single time.

the conversation goes on and he’s relieved that the day is over, because that means you’d never hang out with myungsoo ever again. or he was just telling himself that to feel better, because he would never ask you to stop hanging out with your friend when you didn’t even do anything wrong.

but then you do hang out with myungsoo… again. and again.

haechans becoming busier by the day and you miss him like crazy, you felt alone and isolated and so you try to out get of the house more to make yourself feel better, and convince yourself that you don’t have to depend on your boyfriend to have fun but it was just too damn hard. however, it doesn’t even cross his mind that you wanted to distract yourself from how much you miss him. he can’t stop thinking about how much time you’re spending with myungsoo.

his main concern was that you would tell him when you were hanging out with myungsoo, just not what you were doing together. he couldn’t help his clouded thoughts and started to get insecure over you and your attractive friend becoming closer. he wouldn’t have known that you never hung out with other guys alone unless it was in public, because he never bothered to ask.

“hiii,” you sing, “i miss you so much.”

“i miss you too,” he deadpans from the other side of the phone, and you feel your face drop.

“you okay?” you knew he wasn’t, you knew you had every right to be worried for his well-being, he should’ve listened to you when you told him to take care of his health first, you thought.

“i’m alright, just tired,” he says.

you nod to yourself, feeling bad that you can’t help him, but more feeling guilty for being upset that he wants to sleep more than he wants to talk to you. “oh, okay. go to sleep, babe. we’ll talk tomorrow.”

you wait for him to sleepily insist that he’s perfectly fine and he’d rather stay up all night talking to you, but he doesn’t this time. “okay, i love you. i’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

you stay silent for a second but respond. “goodnight.”

the phone hangs up and you immediately regret not telling him you love him back, you don’t even why you wouldn’t say it back, and now he’s going to sleep thinking you don’t love him. you panicked and couldn’t help but feel like it was something more than him being tired, but you couldn’t push or force it out of him.

the thought keeps you up at night and so the morning after, you text haechan good morning and tell him you were sorry for not saying i love you. you thought he probably hadn’t thought much of it and you were being dramatic, but he tells you it’s okay and that he understands if you were upset.

that’s when you take matters into your own hands and message one of the members.

you: mark

is haechan okay

mark: he seems fine to me

why?

you: hes been kind of distant lately

and not in the way that he’s busy with schedules and things like that, but it feels like there’s something he’s not telling me

i’m sorry i dont want to be that type of partner but im seriously worried for him

mark: oh y/n :( he hasnt said anything to me im really sorry

he hasnt even seemed off to me at all, like hes pretty normal at practice and rehearsal

well as normal as haechan gets

and don’t apologize thats really sweet of you hes lucky to have you seriously

you: oh okay

why is he distant to meeee im sad

but thank you anyways

mark: ofc!

you realize quickly after that you probably shouldn’t have done that, because mark telling you that he seemed completely normal in his presence made you feel even worse.

you hadn’t seen each other in a little over two weeks and you figured it may have just been getting really hard on him not seeing you, the same as it was for you not seeing him. you didn’t want to assume anything but you also didn’t want to believe that he could’ve been mad at you for something.

for the first time in a good week, you cancel your plans with myungsoo and take the day to prepare to surprise your boyfriend.

you didn’t tell him that you’d be at the dorms when he got home that night, and so you picked up a few of his favorite snacks and drinks and made yourself comfortable in his bed while you waited for his arrival. after about an hour of being alone in the dorm, you hear the front door open and your heart starts pounding.

you had no idea why you were nervous to see yor boyfriend at all, maybe because you were worried he really was mad at you and the plan would backfire.

still, you pretend to not be phased and look relaxed as his footsteps get closer, and soon enough his door swung open and there he stood. his eyes immediately lock with yours and you watch his blank expression change to surprise. every single negative thought leaves his mind at the sight of you, and you can visibly see the tension leave body as his shoulders drop in relief.

“hi,” you greet sweetly, standing from his bed and be drops his bag without a word and walks over to you.

haechan still says nothing when he wraps his arms around you, damp with sweat but you honestly couldn’t care less. you return the gesture and you comfortably hold each other in silence for a little while.

“i know it’s late, i’m sorry,” you apologize once you pulled away.

“what’re you doing here?” he asks, disregarding your statement. not that he wasn’t happy to see you, just wasn’t prepared to face you after getting in his head about you and your hot friend.

“i was worried about you, and i miss you.”

his eyes become even softer, suddenly feel guilty and he drops his head. “i’m sorry.”

your furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “what for?”

“preparing for tour has been more difficult than i thought, and i’m exhausted, and you’re the only person who makes me feel sane and it’s so fucking hard when i can’t see you. i just miss you and… and, i don’t know. you have a really hot friend and it makes me sad because he’s hot. i wish he was ugly.” he rants.

you listen to him in full understanding at all his words, until he got to the last statement. “i get you, and i miss you too… but, are you—are you talking about myungsoo?”

“i know it’s stupid and trust me, i feel stupid but i don’t know…” he pouts, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with him…”

you know the situation was a very un-laughable situation, but you truly can’t help but chuckle at his mumbled words when talking about myungsoo. “haechan… myungsoo and i are just friends, i promise. i’ll stop hanging out with him if you want—“

“no, i know you’re just friends and i am not accusing you of anything,” he replies quickly, “i don’t want you to stop hanging out with him because of me. i just hate how attractive he is. i’m sorry. it’s stupid but i feel insecure for some reason.”

you nod, “i hear you, and it’s not stupid. i could’ve been better at reassuring you, but you’re my boyfriend… not him. i love you, not him. i don’t think i need to tell you that you’re hotter than him, your head is big enough.”

you smile when you manage to break a laugh out of him. “no, actually, it’s not. i need you to tell me how hot and sexy and awesome i am or i’ll cry.”

you playfully sigh and after he sits down on his bed, you crawl into his lap with your legs hanging over his and your arms wrapped around his neck. “lee haechan, you are the most attractive person i have and will ever lay my eyes on. you are so perfect inside and out, and i love you.”

he didn’t expect you to take it seriously as the two of you joked around way too much but he was pleasantly surprised with your response. he gives you a cocky smirk, but you can tell his heart was beating fast in his chest and his stomach was exploding in butterflies. “you promise?”

you nod as he hugs your waist tighter, “i promise.”

then he sighs loudly and falls back into his bed, taking you with him. “i’m so in love with you, it’s sick.”

“don’t ever get jealous again, i’m yours, and you’re mine,” you say, “and it’s only and always you—”

“y/n, please,” your boyfriend stops you, “my heart can’t take this.”

“and, there will never be a reason for you to be jealous or insecure.” you fight a laugh, watching him bury his face into your neck shyly. he wasn’t shy whatsoever, you just managed to make him flustered. it was basically a super power.

“now that i know this is what it takes to get you to compliment me, i’m gonna get jealous much more often,” he nods.

you gasp, slapping a hand on his chest which only earns you a laugh from him. “shut up! i compliment you all the time! don’t like you don’t watch your own fancams, either.”

“i knowwww, i’m kidding, i love you. thank you for giving me all the compliments in the world.”

you hum in satisfaction, “yes, of course. i love you so much.”

the boy leans over and equips you with a very sloppy kiss right on your cheek, to which you groan in disgust at the feeling of his saliva but smile lovingly. “i love you more.”

[five-rivers]

Waking the Woods

AO3

Sequel to Rumors of the Woods of the Kingdom of Amity.

For @summerssixecho and @modordracena

Danny was sorting through the pantry, hoping to get all the misplaced poisons put back in the red cabinet before his parents came home the day after next.  More inedible substances would inevitably be stored in the pantry once they came back, but Danny would do just about anything to avoid eating another bezoar for just a little bit longer.  

Also, getting poisoned sucked, but that went without saying.  

His sister, Jazz, was gone, too, but that wasn’t unusual.  She’d gotten an invitation to study at the College of Elmerton, and of course she had to go, even if it was in another country.  

Which meant that he was the only one home when he heard the knock.  It also meant that he was so startled by it that he propelled his head into the underside of one of the pantry shelves at speed.

No one knocked on their door.  Ever.  Even the paying customers were more of the ‘let ourselves in’ type.  

Danny staggered out of the pantry, head spinning slightly.  Ow.  

The knock came again, this time taking on a decidedly frantic character.  Danny shook himself, and patted his head down.  No blood.  Great!  He walked to the door, half convinced that he’d find someone who was both out of town and very lost, but determined to be polite.  Show people it was possible for a Fenton to have manners!  Not their fault he smacked his head into the shelf.  

He slid open the door and immediately got punched in the face.  

“Oh, gods, I’m so sorry– Where did the door go?”

“It slides,” explained Danny, clutching his face.  “Sideways.  Ow.”

“I’m really sorry, I was just knocking.  I didn’t realize–”

“I know, I know.”  Probably, the whole ‘nobody knocks’ thing was the only thing keeping this from happening much more often.  He peeled his hands away from his face and took in his visitor as well as he could, given his temporarily blurry vision.  

Dark skin, yellow cloak, vividly red hat that had to be violating at least a dozen sumptuary laws…  There was only one person Danny had ever met that dressed like that.

“Tucker?”

“Uh, yeah,” said Tucker, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Surprise?”

“In more ways than one.”  Danny touched his face tenderly.  “Ow.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s fine,” said Danny, deciding not to mention that he’d done much worse to himself not five minutes ago.  “Come on in.  What are you doing here, anyway?  I haven’t seen you since, uh…”  When had it been, anyway?

“Since I got apprenticed, I know.”

“Yeah!”  Tucker hadn’t been happy about it, but as his parents had said, felting was good, steady work.  People always needed cloth.  “Don’t tell me you’ve already finished your apprenticeship.”

“Uh, no.  It is sort of about that, though.”

Danny paused, halfway to the living room.  “You’re not running away, are you?”  Tucker had never seen the type, but it had been years.  

“No,” said Tucker.  “But, uh.  It’s sort of complicated.  It’ll take a little bit to explain.”

“Alright,” said Danny, continuing into the room until he could perch on the edge of his mother’s rocker.  “Go ahead.”

“Right.  So.  Every ten years or so, the weavers’ and felters’ guilds get together to negotiate with the shepherds about prices.  Tanner’s guild, too, sometimes, but not this year.  This year, my master got chosen to go.  Which meant I was at loose ends."

"So you came to visit me?" asked Danny, touched. 

"Um.  No.  Maybe I would've, but at the same time, the pages at the castle all came down with carbuncle pox–"

"Oh, yeah, I heard about that."

"So, the pagemaster asked the guilds to send apprentices to fill in for them."

"And you were sent because you were at loose ends."

"Right."

They stared silently at each other.  Just when Danny was about to prompt Tucker to continue, because that had explained nothing, the other boy exploded.  

"I was sent to give a message to the princess and she had a book out about Rangers, like the one your mom always had, and I asked her why she was looking up Rangers and she said it was for a personal project and she asked me why I could read - because apparently royalty think guild apprentices can’t read, go figure, she sounded impressed, though - and I told her that I’d always wanted to join the monastery, but money, and then, you know, she was surprised I could read, I wanted to say something impressive, not be written off, and I said I knew a Ranger family, and then she said that if I could get a Ranger to help with her project, she’d pay off my apprenticeship and recommend me to the head monk, and I said I could definitely, one hundred percent do that and you’d be happy to help.  So, uh.  Yeah.  Yeah, then I came here.  What’ve you been up to?”

Danny's jaw had dropped at some point during Tucker’s ‘explanation,’ but he gathered himself.  "The attic, I guess.  Tucker…  I'm not a Ranger."

"But your parents were."

"Not… not really."  Jazz, at least, had thought they were doing the whole Ranger thing to embarrass her.  The Fentons were alchemists by trade, if not temperament.  Rangers didn't really exist any more.

"Grandparents?"

Danny shrugged.

"Come on, Danny, you're literally my only hope."

"Why do you even want to join a monastery anyway?"

"Because that's where all the books are."

Danny rubbed his head, winced, and thought about it some more.  "This project isn't some creepy rich person thing, is it?"

"What?  No.  The princess is our age!"

"So?  I'm self‐aware enough to realize that I can be creepy about…" he trailed off, blushing furiously.  "Things."

"She's a girl!"

Danny blinked.  “So?”

Tucker stared at him.  He stared at Tucker.  

“She legitimately needs a Ranger.”

“What for?  It isn’t like there’s any magic in the woods anymore.  They’ve been mapped.”

“Apparently not,” said Tucker.  “Look, I know you haven’t seen me in a long time, and we’re not close friends anymore, but you have to at least be curious.  And you’d get to meet the princess.”

Danny sighed.  “Alright, alright.  I am curious.”  Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked all those questions.  “Where am I supposed to go and when am I supposed to be there?”

“The princess wants us to meet her at the castle at noon.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  

“Yes?”

“You want me to go to the castle.  At noon.  Today.  Looking like I just got beaten up.  And convince the princess, who has apparently done a lot of research, that I’m, what, an apprentice Ranger?  Is that even a thing?”

“An experienced Ranger.  I, uh, might have played you up a bit.”

“Tucker,” said Danny.  “You were wrong.”

Tucker hunched his shoulders.  “About?”

“Us not being close friends anymore.  You see, if we weren’t, I would be kicking you out right about now.”

“Noted.”

.

Danny did not run around like his hair was on fire for the next hour, although at one point he came perilously close to actually setting his hair on fire.  

An hour was not long enough to prepare for this.  For that matter, days wouldn’t be long enough to prepare for this.  He was an apprentice alchemist, barely, not a monster-hunter, not a warrior of any stripe, not a mage, not even a historian.  

But on the off chance that there was magic… or a creature or some sort…

He packed his travel kit with a few randomly chosen vials of caustics and poisons, making sure they were carefully separated from the vials and flasks carrying more benign brews.  Glues, solvents, and cleaners went in another compartment, salves and topicals in yet another, and things you were actually supposed to eat or drink in a fourth.  

He felt woefully underprepared.  

Tucker was really lucky he didn’t have any other friends, darn it.  

His eyes strayed back to the lockbox in the back of the storeroom.  He shouldn’t…  But odds were, the princess was delusional or just getting scammed.  He could put everything back before his parents got home.  And if the princess had found something magical, wouldn’t it be better to have something that could affect it?  Even if it was old and super questionable?

With a skill born from his parents always losing their keys, Danny picked the lock on the lockbox.  Within were two vials.  One was pale green, with a dark, glittery red mixture inside.  The other was coated with crackling, peeling red and contained a liquid that glowed green through the cracks.  The reason for these color choices was, Danny assumed, because one of his ancestors was a sadist of some variety.  

He checked the labels to make sure they were what he remembered.  Tincture of Sanguiflora magicidium in the green vial and mana pondalorum physick in the red vial.  He triple checked his memory of their effects against the booklet in the lockbox.  Only then did he put them in their own, separate, compartments.  

He was ready to go, and absolutely sure he was going to regret this in at least some way.  

Welp!  At least it’d be interesting.  

.

Danny had never actually been to the castle before.  His parents were… Well, even if they were the absolute best alchemists in the kingdom (a disputed title) they weren’t exactly welcome around anyone who might not want their clothes ruined.  Or their houses.  Or their health.  Even beyond the Ranger thing, they were pretty eccentric.  

The castle was impressive, he supposed.  But it was just a large building.  He wouldn’t want to be a guy attacking it, he was sure.  But looking at it from the outside got old, fast.

“So,” he said to Tucker, “noon, huh?”

“You know that’s just an estimate.  Not everyone has clocks.”

“I am absolutely convinced that the royal family has at least one clock.”

“Yeah, but do they know that you have a clock?  That’s the question.  And is your clock even right?”

Danny shrugged.  

One of the guards whistled at them, and for the first time, Danny saw his face.  

“Huh,” he said, “is that Dash?”

“Might be,” said Tucker.  

“You!  Boy!” snapped Dash, who was only a little older than they were.  “Are you Tucker Foley?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“And the-” Dash sneered, “-Ranger?”

“It’s not my day job.”  Or any kind of job.  Actually, was he getting paid for this?  As much as he’d like to live off air and pleasant thoughts, he did have other needs.  At this point, though, it seemed too late to ask.  

“You’re expected.  Follow me.”

Wow.  Danny didn’t know that Dash knew any words as long as ‘expected.’  Shocking.  Maybe being around all these high-class people was starting to rub off on him.  

Not far inside the gates was a…  Alright, Danny didn’t know what was going on, but it had the energy of people preparing to go somewhere, so.  Yeah.

“Your majesty, I’ve brought the felter boy and his… friend.”

“I’m sure they have names,” said a girl who was wearing a surprisingly practical riding dress, “and I know you know at least Tucker’s.”  She turned slightly towards Danny.  “And you are?”

“This is, uh, Danny, Princess Samantha,” said Tucker, bobbing bow and elbowing Danny in the side until he got a clue and did the same.  

“I’ve told you, you can call me Sam.”

“R-right.  Sam.”

Everyone in the vicinity except the princess shot them a glare so venomous Danny was tempted to get out a bezoar (ick).  The princess didn’t notice.  She was too busy examining Danny.  He straightened under her sweeping gaze.

“You don’t look like a Ranger.”

“My parents have more experience.”  Or so they claimed, anyway.  “There’s not a lot of call for Rangers these days.”

“Well, you’re the first one to come to me with even a lick of authenticity, so I suppose you’ll do,” she said, finally.   “The Fenton line, correct?  Branch of House Nightingale?”

“Um,” said Danny.  “I suppose?”  He’d heard some things like that, but if he had any Nightingale ancestors, they were buried beneath far more common people.  

“I think you might actually be the last survivors of that house.  Do either of you ride?”

Danny and Tucker shook their heads.  

“More’s the pity, although we won’t be moving at much more than a walk with all the people who insist on coming with us despite their lack of interest in our nation’s heritage.”  She sniffed.  “You will be coming of course, Tucker?”

“‘Course he will,” said Danny, looping an arm around his shoulder.  “We used to be a team when we were kids.”

“Oh?  Goodness, that almost makes me reluctant to send you off to a monastery.  There are so few people with any Ranger training left.”

She turned away, back to her preparations, and Tucker threw Danny’s arm off and glared at him.  Danny grinned lazily back.  Served him right.  Danny could spread the misery around a little bit.  

.

It was true that the princess’s retinue did not move at a rate faster than a walk.  This was, however, at least partially because the princess kept stopping to give alms on her way out of the city.  It seemed the city’s population of beggars had learned her preferred routes.  

“Hey,” said Danny, “this was a one day sort of thing, right?  It’s okay that I didn’t pack stuff for overnight?”

“No, it should be fine, I think,” said Tucker.  “But there’s like a hundred people here.  Someone will have spare stuff.  Besides, if it goes much longer than that, we can just leave.”

Danny nodded.  “That’s true.”

.

When they finally reached the forest, they walked for another hour and a half, this time stopping so that the princess and her ladies could coo at the half-feral forest cats that sometimes watched their progress.

Alright, Danny cooed at them, too, and since he and Tucker were on foot, they had a much better chance of petting them, something he felt just a little smug about.

The first hour of that was on a well maintained road, the last was on a path that looked to be newly cut through tangled underbrush and fallen trees.  Much to the displeasure of the princess’s guards, she decided to dismount and walk next to Danny and Tucker for this part of the journey.  She called it ‘bracing.’

“We only found this because of the late storm during the drought last year,” she said.  “Father sent the fire watch to make sure there hadn’t been any bad lightning strikes close to the city, and one of them found it.  I spent months convincing Father to let me investigate.  I’m hoping that soon it will be something I can share with everyone.”

Danny cleared his throat.  “With this all being so last minute, Tucker didn’t actually get a chance to tell me what ‘it’ was.  Um, Princess Samantha.”  He had no idea how often you were supposed to address royalty by title.  It didn’t come up all that often in his life.  

Samantha’s smile faltered, slightly.  “It’s Sam.  And we’re not sure, actually.  That’s one of the reasons we wanted a Ranger.  I thought that you might recognize it from your training.”

“I don’t know how likely that is,” cautioned Danny.  

Samantha shrugged.  “It is only one of the reasons.  But you don’t have to be pessimistic.  I’m well aware that this endeavor might come to nothing.  It is one thing to hope to reclaim a country’s magical heritage.  It is another thing entirely to actually do it.”

“So… you don’t believe magic is getting used up?”

“I’m not sure.  I think it might have been…  But I have hope that magic is something that can be restored, renewed, and used more wisely.  Other places seem to have managed that, at least a little.  It would be a shame to give up on it entirely, wouldn’t it?  It was a wondrous thing.”

“Sure,” said Danny, “but there were also the monsters.  That’s what the Rangers were for, a lot of the time.”

“Even so.”  She fell silent for a while.  “Have you ever heard of the trap-rabbit?”

“No.  Tuck?”

Tucker shook his head.  

“They used to be quite common here, is my understanding.  The walls of my nursery are painted with them.  They don’t exist anymore.  It’s a sad thing, I think, for that to happen.  I would not wish it to happen even to monsters.”

Tucker made a face.  The princess saw it.  

“I have read the stories,” she said.  “In them, we strike first as often as they.”

“But those are stories,” protested Tucker.  

The princess shrugged.  “As is any history you did not witness personally.  But even we can’t return things to what they were, don’t you think learning what was is still a worthy goal?”

“It sounds like one, anyway,” said Danny.  “I’ve never really thought about it.”

They emerged into a clearing around a large pond.  On the other side of the pond was a huge tree with great, drooping branches.  The branches swayed in the wind, momentarily revealing something made of stone.

“It’s impressive, isn’t it?” asked the princess, stepping onto a path that led around the side of the pond.  It was made of uneven pavers and looked ancient.  

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I didn’t know trees like that got that tall.”

“Neither did I,” muttered Tucker.  “What’s under there, though.”

“You’ll have to see,” said Samantha- Sam, skipping down the path.  

Danny started after her, and immediately tripped.  He just barely caught himself before face planting and possibly having a very expensive and dangerous accident with his travel kit.

He maybe wasn’t as recovered from his head injuries as he’d thought.  And, yes, he was counting Tucker’s accidental punch.  

It was fine.  

The stone beneath the tree was part of a structure, obviously made by intelligent hands and at least as old as the paved path.  There didn’t seem to be any way into the small building, just some words carved into the side.

“Do you recognize it?”

Danny shook his head.  “But there’s always been lots of different kinds of ruins.”  He walked around the structure, going slowly.  “Reminds me a little of shrines in old temples.  Those are open-sided, though.”

“I know,” said Sam.  “The tree doesn’t mean anything to you, either?”

“Should it?”

Sam shrugged.  Away from the shadow of the tree, her retinue was setting up camp.  They seemed more than happy to let the three of them investigate the maybe-shrine on their own.  Well.  Mostly.  A couple very formidable looking ladies were watching them like hawks, and a bald man had taken out a stool and a thick, dusty book to read in the shade.  

“I don’t think so…  It’s kind of similar to that one story, though, isn’t it?  The one about the tree of life and a sacred pool.”

“It is.  The water seems to be just water, though, and the fruit is just fruit.”  

“Might be where the story came from, though.”

“Maybe,” agreed Sam.  “What do you think of the writing?”

Gods, that was not his area of expertise.  Still, he stepped closer.  “Hm,” he said.  “It’s very writing-like.”

Sam looked at him, concern on her face.  “You can read, yes?”

“What?  Yeah.  Just give me a second.  This isn’t regular writing.”

“I’m aware.”

“You’ve gotten someone else to translate this already, right?”

“My tutor, William Lancer."  She gestured at the bald man, who briefly glanced up from his book.  "It’s good to have a second opinion.”

Danny nodded and called up his admittedly meager knowledge of this sort of thing.  He knew some, because a lot of alchemical texts were written in the old language, but he wasn’t exactly spending his days practicing it.  

“Um,” he said, intelligently.  He was starting to see what Tucker meant about wanting to impress her.  “The first binding, valued more than coin, valued more than land, but spent on it nonetheless, by those who do not own it.  When it is gone, dust is left.  Heart of the land, spend yours before your people.  We shall… wake?”  Danny paused.  “Is that ‘wake?’”

“‘Open,’” said Sam.  “We think answering the riddle might open up the… shrine, for lack of a better word.”

“Mm,” said Danny, who had usually seen it in the context of sleeping medicines.  “Is it the same on all sides?” 

“As far as we can tell.”

“Dust is, um.  Huh.”  He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing when he jostled his head.  “I think this dust might be the same dust as grave dust.  Does that help?”

“This isn’t one of those animal sacrifice things, is it?” asked Tucker.  “Or, uh, human sacrifice?”

“We thought of that,” said Sam.  

Tucker moved away from her.  

“But, ah.  Blood magic tends to be… unpleasant.  We thought we’d avoid that.”

“Might still be blood magic,” said Danny.  “I mean, blood fits, doesn’t it?  Blood relations are the first tie you have, it’s more valuable than money or land, but people still fight wars for those things, they just try to spill other people’s blood.  When it’s gone, you’re left with grave dust.”

“I would prefer not to get sacrificed,” said Tucker.  “If it’s all the same to you, your highness.”

“Tucker, if I was that desperate to get in, I’d just hire people to pull it down, or get a battering ram.  I’m not going to sacrifice anyone.  But… heart of the land?  We thought perhaps wood doves, because of the crest…”

Danny shrugged.  “At that point, it might as well be talking about your blood.”

“Mine?” asked Sam, scandalized but intrigued.

“Sure.  You’re popular, right?  Or at least, you’re royalty.  That’s sort of like being the heart of a country.”

“Couldn't it just be talking about the word, too?" asked Tucker, looking faintly ill.  "Couldn't it be that you just have to say the word blood?"

"I don't know, we've said blood a lot just now."

"But not in the old language," pointed out Sam.  

"Sure," said Danny.  "Sang."

Nothing happened.  He shrugged.  

"Maybe you need to say it," Tucker said to Sam.  

"Sang." 

Still nothing.

"Bleeding it is, then."  Sam pulled an unreasonably large knife from the vicinity of her corset. 

Tucker jumped away, and even Danny took two hurried steps back, ready to throw himself behind the corner of the building.  The ‘supervising’ adults were unalarmed.  

But the princess just pressed the blade to her thumb and held it out to the structure.  

Nothing happened.  

“Maybe you need to bleed on it?” suggested Danny.  

“You don’t want to get an infection, your highness,” said William Lancer, not looking up from his book.

“I know,” said Sam.  She pressed her thumb against the wall, just under the carved riddle.  

For a long moment… nothing happened.  

But then the walls shuddered and began to drop into the ground, leaving only the pillars at the corners to support the roof.  

“Yes!”  Sam pumped her fist and ran in as soon as the walls got low enough.  

This, finally, stirred the watchers to action. 

Danny and Tucker exchanged a glance.  It'd be bad if the princess were cursed, wouldn't it?

Danny hopped over the wall next.  The interior was… Not much of one.  He didn't know what he expected of a ten foot by ten foot building with no walls.  

"Look," said Sam, pointing up.  

"Oh, wow," said Danny, all awareness of what the princess’s minders were doing falling away from him.  The pillars might not be much to look at, but the ceiling…  Danny had just enough experience at art to understand what had gone into carving and painting it.  It was the night sky, as viewed from below trees.  Each leaf and needle was picked out in exquisite detail, perspective perfect.  And the stars… as an alchemist, even an apprentice one, Danny had to know when the stars were right.  These stars were accurate.  They were even accurate to this time of year.  Even the moon was right, its face a careful reproduction of what was really there.

“The floor, too!” said Sam, bringing Danny’s attention to the stone tiles and the small flowers and leaves painted on them as well as… were those map lines?  Danny wasn’t sure.  “This is marvelous.  Do you suppose the pillars are meant to resemble tree trunks?  I didn’t see it before, but now-!  Even if this was it, it’s worth it!”

“It is pretty,” said Tucker, finally following them in.  “Wonder what it was for.”

“It hardly even matters.  That is, it matters, of course, but look at it!”

They looked.  

And while they were looking, the walls shot back up, leaving them in pitch blackness.  

“Ah,” said Danny.  “Somehow, I feel like we should have expected this.”

“Bleed on the walls again!” suggested Tucker in a not at all panicked voice.

There was some shuffling as everyone ran into one another.  

“It’s not working,” said Sam.  

“Well,” said Danny, “at least there’s still the battering ram option?”

“That only works if there’s nothing inside the thing you care about breaking.  Do you– No, I suppose you wouldn’t.  What was the point of this, anyway?  To trap princes and princesses?”

Danny shrugged, even though no one could see him.  

“I don’t suppose any of you have flint or matches?” asked Sam.  “Candles?”

“Some,” admitted Danny.  “But you don’t really want to light a fire in a closed space like this.  Oh!  Wait!  I do have something.”  He opened the top of his travel kit.  The glowing mana pondalorum physick was immediately visible.  The red coating of the vial blocked most of the green light, but in the otherwise absolute darkness, it seemed to burn.  

“What is that?”

“Mana,” said Danny.  “Or water with mana in it.  Some of the old books aren’t super clear.  My parents saved it from way back.”

“Did they save anything else?” asked Sam, her eyes wide.  She reached for it.  

Danny pulled it back, towards his chest.  He had not anticipated curious royalty as a threat to his ‘not getting in trouble with my parents’ plan, but in retrospect he could see that was as obvious a risk as getting stuck in a weird possibly magical ruin.  

“Yeah,” he said, “there’s also the magicidium mix.  It’s, um, emergency magic antidote.  Magic killer.  So, if one of us gets cursed, you want to grab the green vial with the red stuff in it.”

“And, what, drink it?” asked Tucker.  

“Or dump it on them.  Drinking it is better, but, you know, curses…”

“Right,” said Tucker, nodding, “I absolutely know curses.”

Danny had doubts.  But he also had better things to do, like examining the inside of the walls.  He raised the vial, glancing up as the green light was reflected off the painted stars.  For a moment, he thought he might have caught a glimpse of something else, then the moment was gone.  

“Hey, why don’t we just dump the magic killing stuff on the walls or something?” asked Tucker.  

“Because it’s probably magic that makes them move,” said Sam.  “Not magic that keeps them in place.”

The walls had writing on them.  He turned to the nearest one, and brought the vial closer.  “That’s different from the outside, I think?”

“What does it say?” asked Sam.  

“Give me a minute,” said Danny.  “It’s really hard to see.”  He squinted at the writing.  “This is a lot longer,” he said with some dismay.

“You can read it, though, can’t you?”

“Just… don’t rush me.”  Danny chewed his lip, then read slowly.  “Beat true, oh heart, with wisdom and wit, for without these passion lies silent.  Um…  Those who would be woken, must be named.  Those who would be named, must be woken…  No.  Those who are named will be woken.  Speak, therefore, the names of…”

“What names?  Ours?  Mine?”

“Give me a second.  The names of… Okay, I’m not sure if this is just a poetic way to say sleep or not.  The names of those beneath the stars, for you must know them whether it is day or night.  Say them, wake them, walk into the light.”

“You think beneath the stars means sleep?  Those are completely different!”

“And beating around the bush is completely different from avoiding a topic,” said Sam.  “But they mean the same thing.”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “The stuff I learned from is big on metaphor, but it was, you know, formal.”

“We’re going to die,” said Tucker.  

“We’re not going to die.  Let’s start with our names.  I’m Sam.”

“Danny.”

“Tucker.”  Tucker looked around, nervous.  “Do you think it wants our full names?”

“Yeah…” said Danny, also apprehensive.  “Magic usually does.” Not that he really knew, but that was the way it was in stories.  So.  “Daniel Vladimir Fenton.”

“Oh, gods, that’s your middle name?”

“Shut up.  I know yours is Meredith.”

Sam rolled her eyes with her entire body.  “Princess Samantha Annamarie Laurel Caspera Manson of Amity, Duchess of Beau.  Your turn.”

“Tucker,” he sighed, “Meredith Foley.”

“Alright,” said Danny, “maybe it means something else when it says all.”  

“Like what?  We’re the only ones here.”

Sam had started picking at her lip.  “We are,” she agreed.  “But…  The floor, it was a map, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  “I really hope you’re good at geography.  I’m not.”

“You’re a Ranger.”

“That has nothing to do with geography.”

Sam turned, surveying the room.  “What if it’s not the map, but the trees?”

“The… sculptures?”

“They’re under the stars, too aren’t they?”

.

The next half an hour or so was spent desperately trying to name… everything.  Danny and Tucker just recited every tree name and plant name they could remember - and some animal names just in case - while Sam was a bit more methodical.  Danny and Tucker’s frenzy was only occasionally interrupted by Sam saying something like Elmerton, Casper, Axion, Floode or Eerie.  

As a result, they had no idea who it was that finally triggered the walls to slide down again.  Danny, for one, didn’t really care.  He threw himself out as soon as he was able, and the others seemed to have the same opinion.  

He knelt on the grass and tilted his head up to catch the sparse sunlight filtering through the branches above him.  In doing so, he saw that everyone who had been there before was gone.  

“We weren’t gone long enough for everyone to have left, right?” asked Danny.  

“No,” said Sam, “not at all.”  She climbed to her feet and walked past him, examining the ground.  “It’s like they were never here at all…”

Tucker gasped and pointed up.  “Look at the tree!”

Fruit hung from its branches, heavy, round, and red.  

“What is that?” asked Danny.  

“You don’t know?”

“No.  I’ve never seen a tree like that.”

The walls of the small building grated as they started rising again.  Danny, Sam, and Tucker turned back to it, slowly.  Dread bubbled up in Danny’s stomach, creeping along his spine.

“Maybe we should just go back to the city,” said Danny.  

Sam shook her head.  “There’s no guarantee the city will even be there.”

“There’s no guarantee it won’t be.”

“And there’s no guarantee that stupid thing won’t disappear one of us if we look at it funny,” argued Tucker.  “Let’s cut our losses.”

“There must be a reason for this,” insisted Sam, crossing her arms.  “They wouldn’t just make all this happen for no reason.”

Danny eyed her suspiciously.  “There’s something else, isn’t there?  Something you know about this.”

Sam tapped her foot.  “Maybe,” she allowed.  “Nothing solid, mind you, but one Ranger journal I found suggested that this place was used by the old kings to petition the woods, and that they needed both royalty and Ranger to do it.  That’s… one of the reasons I wanted someone like you to come.”

“Petition it for what?”

“I don’t know.  It didn’t say.  It was one sentence in thousands.  It could have been anything.  Good harvests, few wolves, killing the Pariah King, whatever.  It might not have even been talking about here at all.  I just thought…  If there was anything left…”

“Clearly,” said Tucker, “there was something left.”

“Right,” said Sam.  “But it didn’t say anything about making people disappear.”

“It didn’t say anything about anything, is what it sounds like,” said Tucker.  

“Yes, but…”  She trailed off.  “Don’t you think it’s more likely that we were moved?  Considering.”  She gestured at the peaceful and undisturbed clearing.  “Even the path we came in on is gone.”

Danny hadn’t noticed that, but it was true.  The border of the clearing was entirely overgrown, with no sign that people had broken through the shrubs and small trees there.

“I think,” she said, “that to get back, we have to keep going.”  She looked between the two of them, then at the building, squaring her shoulders.  “I am sorry I brought you into this, but it’s done.  Let’s at least work together to get out of it.”

There wasn’t much choice, was there?  “Alright,” said Danny.  “Let’s go.”

The words on the walls were, predictably, different than they had been before.  Danny was getting used to this already, somehow.  “This is the wisdom of the land, that when the land drinks, the people shall drink, and when the people drink, so shall the land drink, and that when the land is fed, so shall the people be fed, and when the people are fed, so shall the land be fed.  For water to be received, it must be given.  Should salt be given, then salt shall be received.  The land that is fed on blood shall also bleed.  The seed that is planted will grow.  That which wakes will be woken.  The…”  Danny paused. 

“And you were doing so well, too.”

“Listen.”

“Sorry, it’s only… at least the last one had a clear instruction.  This sounds like some kind of philosophical statement.  Not that there’s anything wrong with those.”

“I’m not done yet,” said Danny, plaintively.  “I haven’t seen this word before.  I think it’s a person?  And they’re getting whatever they’re doing done to them?  It goes on like that for a while longer.”  He ran his finger down the line.  And then it says, because the people and the land are one, only about a dozen times.”

“Why would it say it a dozen times?” asked Tucker.  

“It uses a different word for land each time.”

Sam frowned at him.  He wasn’t looking at her, but he could feel it.  “What?”

“Like, mostly it uses the word for land that has trees on it, but–”

“You mean a forest?  Or wood?”

“No, there’s a different word for a forest.  Actually, there’s specifically a word for land that has a forest on it, as opposed to just trees.”  Which Danny only knew because a lot of alchemical potions had dirt as an ingredient.  Incredibly specific dirt.  “And there’s a different word for soil.  Or for unoccupied land.  It’s… the old language is weird.”  There was a reason it wasn’t spoken anymore.  

“And that’s it?”

“No, there’s one more line.  Show your intentions: to eat, and to be eaten.  No, wait, that doesn’t make sense.  That must be feed.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” said Tucker.  

“At least it’s an instruction.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to eat the fruit.  I might do that anyway, actually,” said Danny.  “What?  I’m hungry.  I didn’t eat anything at midday.”

“But what if you eat it, and then it eats you?”

“At least I won’t be hungry?”

“I think the bigger problem here is what if it’s poisonous,” said Sam.  

“Is that really the bigger problem?  Really?”  He gestured around himself.  “I’m going to eat one of those fruits and, uh.  Water the tree.”

“You can say you’re going to pee on it,” said Sam.  “I have bodily functions, too.”

“Whatever.  If that doesn’t work, we can try something else.”

Sam squinted at him.  He got the impression it wasn’t an expression she wore often, but it suited her face very well.  “You know, I expected a Ranger to know more about all of this.”

Tucker made flailing motions behind her.  

“That’s–  In the spirit of honesty, no one in my family has done real Ranger-ing since my grandfather disappeared when my mom was a little girl.”

“The woods do disappear people, oh my gods–”

“My parents just like camping and pretending there are still monsters, and Tucker said you needed someone, so…”

Sam’s whole face twitched.  “I see.  I suppose we can’t say we aren’t similar, then, with respect to false pretenses.  But… let’s not do that anymore.  For the sake of not dying.”  She paused.  “Is the red–”

“It’s really anti-magic.”

Sam’s shoulders slumped.  “At least there’s that.  If the fruit starts turning you into, I don’t know…”

“A wolf,” suggested Tucker.  

“Why not?  A wolf, I’ll make sure to pour it down your throat.”

Danny rolled his eyes.  “And if it’s poisonous, I’ll eat a bezoar.”  

“What’s that?” asked Sam.  

“Thing that helps with poison.  It’s gross, you don’t want to know where they come from.”

“I thought we were being honest–”

“It’s a stone formed in a someone’s stomach or gut,” said Danny.  “Like a gallstone.”

Sam looked fascinated, if disgusted.  “Does… does that actually work?”

“I’m… not actually sure.  But it can’t hurt.”

“I don’t know, it kind of sounds like it could be poisonous on it’s own.”

That was what Danny said to his parents, but did they listen?  No.  

He shrugged at Sam walked away from the building and towards the shore of the pond, where the branches trailed in the water and the fruit was easier to reach.  He pulled one off and rolled it in his hand.  It felt like a plum, even if the size and color was off.  

“Danny, are you sure,” started Tucker.  

"Am I sure what?" asked Danny, opening his kit.

"What are you doing?"

Danny looked down at the beaker in his hand, then back up at Tucker.  "Testing for common poisons?"

"Oh.  I thought you were just going to eat it."

"No, that's weird."  He set up his materials and poked a hole in the fruit with his knife to get some juice.  He let it drip into the containers, then stood up to throw the punctured fruit into the pond.

"Maybe we shouldn't throw things into the potentially magic pond," suggested Sam in a way that wasn't very suggestion-like.  

Danny shrugged at her, wondering vaguely if shrugging at royalty was a punishable offense.  Something caught his eye.

“Hey, there’s a bucket here,” said Danny.  “Do you think we’re supposed to do something with the bucket?”  He walked over and picked it up.

"Maybe it's to actually water the tree," said Tucker.  

"That makes sense," said Danny.  He tossed the bucket at Tucker.  Tucker fumbled it.  

“Why me?”

“I’ve got to watch this,” said Danny, pointing at where the fruit was reacting or not reacting to the chemicals in the beakers.  “And, well…”

“Dear gods,” said Sam.  “You had better not be about to say that I’m somehow unable to fill and carry a bucket because I’m a girl.”

“No.  I just thought you wouldn’t want to.”  And she could probably make life very hard for them if they annoyed her too much.  

Sam scoffed and took the bucket from Tucker.  “I’ve got it.”  

“Alright,” said Tucker.  “She’s got it.”

.

The tests for poison came back negative, so…

Danny bit into a fruit he’d just picked and blinked.  “Oh, these are actually really good.”

“We’ll take your word for it.”

.

“Look,” said Tucker, “That thing’s not doing anything, so I’m going to see if I can find the main road.  I’d prefer it if you came with me, but…”

“Might as well,” said Danny.  

“Fine,” said Sam.  “But we’re going to take precautions to make sure we can get back here.”

“Like what?” asked Danny.  

Sam pulled out a clue of string from… somewhere.  

“Do you just carry that around?”

“Of course.  String is useful.”

.

It turned out it didn’t matter.  No matter how they left the clearing, they wound up back in it.  

.

"It's been a couple hours," said Danny as they laid on the ground under the tree.  "I probably would have died by now if there was actually poison in those fruits."

"Mhm," said Sam, contemplatively.

"Just a question, but, speaking of which, have either of you noticed the sun getting lower?"

"No," said Sam.

"Nope," said Tucker.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."  He looked up at the still-blue sky.  “You guys are going to have to eat or drink something eventually.”

“Yeah,” said Tucker.  “But I’ve been thinking, and… what if it takes us someplace worse?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny.  

“Staying isn’t an option.”

“It could be.  Maybe the fruit grows back, or there’s fish in the pond.”

“Have you seen any fish?” asked Danny.  

“No.  Why?”

“Sometimes people use fish as fertilizer.”

“We don’t have anything to catch fish with.”

“We’ve got string and the fruit.  Maybe we can find some worms, too?”

“Might as well,” said Sam.  

.

None of them were particularly skilled at fishing.  No fish were caught.  

.

Sam chewed on the fruit.  “You know,” she said, “if it weren’t for the mortal peril and all, I’d say this was pretty good.”

“It is tasty,” allowed Tucker, who was pausing to glare at the fruit between every bite.  

“No, I mean all this.”  Sam waved at nothing in particular.  “It’s nice.  Fun.”  

At least someone was having a good day.  He’d been trying to ignore the swollen lump on the back of his head and his black eye, but it hadn’t really been working.  

Under other circumstances, though… He could see hanging out with Sam and Tucker being fun.  The odds of that happening if Sam went on with princess-ing and Tucker became a monk were pretty low, though.

“I don’t think I’ve done anything without being watched by half a dozen people since I was eight.”

“Anything?” repeated Danny.

“Anything.”

Danny didn’t want to ask, but the question was there, in his head.

“Yes, in the bath, too.”  She sighed and held up the fruit pit.  “I suppose we should bury these?  Over there, maybe?”

“Can’t hurt,” said Danny.  “Anyone have a shovel?  And– Oh!”  He opened up his kit.  “We can use this!”  He held up a vial of white powder.

“What’s that?”

“Niter!”

“... Doesn’t that explode?” asked Tucker.

“Sometimes.”

“Why do we want to explode anything?” asked Sam.  

“We don’t.  It’s fertilizer.”

“But it’s white.”

“So?”

Tucker sighed heavily.  “Maybe we can use the bucket as a shovel?”

.

Sam patted down the last bucket-scrape of dirt with a gleeful expression.  They were all pretty grimy at this point, but it looked like she was enjoying it.  

The scraping sound wasn’t exactly music to Danny’s ears, but it was still something.  They ran to the building.  Three of the walls had dropped.  The one nearest to the pond had remained standing.  

Danny swallowed.  Something felt… Not wrong, exactly, but there was a strong sense of meaning.  

“Hey,” he said, before Sam and Tucker could step in, “wait.  Maybe only one of us should go in.  Just in case.”

“In case what?  We’re already in a bad way,” said Sam.  “We might as well face this together.”

Danny nodded.  “Yeah, but this feels…  Different.  If everything’s fine, you can come in, too.”

“Different how?”

“I don’t know,” said Danny, “but you wanted a Ranger for a reason.”

“Yes, but we’ve established you aren’t one.”

“I’m enough of one for us to get here, right?  If I get stuck in there, you can always plant more pits and open it back up.”

“And who knows if we’ll be in the same place?” asked Sam.  

“Just… humor me on this,” said Danny.  “And remember, if I do get cursed, we have the magicidium.”

“There has to be an easier name for that,” muttered Tucker. 

“Sure.  Blood blossoms.  They’re called that because they’re red.”

Tucker spread his hands.  “Then why–”

“I like saying it.  It makes it sound cooler.”

Sam raised her hand, stopping them.  “You know you’re the only one who can read the old language, right?  You’d be the one going in to look at what’s written there.”

“I know.  I’m the one who suggested it.”

Sam groaned, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her wrists.  “I should have learned the old language instead of Elmerian.”

Danny shrugged.  “There’s always the future?”

Both of… oh, he might as well call them his friends, at this point… glared at him.  

“Fine,” said Sam, “but if you do get cursed, I’m going to say I told you so.”

With trepidation, Danny crossed into the building.  The floor and ceiling hadn’t changed, but the only upright wall was now packed with writing.  He craned his neck back to see what was on top.  The words almost seemed to glitter.

“This is a lot,” he said.  

“Can we come in now?” asked Sam.

“Not yet,” said Danny.  “Let me translate this first.  Children of the land, know this, we, your forefathers, and we of the land have built this path to see the… obscured?”  A shadow fell across Danny’s view of the carving, making the words seem to flash.  He stood on his tip-toes and leaned closer, squinting.  “To understand the world… beyond?  Within.  The world within the woods, and you have come because they have failed and you wish to repair.”  He put his hand on the stone as he leaned still closer, nose almost pressed against the stone in an effort to see just a little better.  It slid into a comfortable depression and he continued to read.  “Let the bright magic– mana– let mana alter–”

Light flared across his vision, then everything went dark.  He yelped.  

“Danny?!”

“I’m–  Hells and heavens–”   He rubbed his eyes.  “The sun didn’t suddenly disappear after that flash, did it?”

“No.”

“What flash?”

He’d been afraid of that.  “I’ve been cursed.”  His heart did a funny twist at the admission.  

If his parents were here, they’d be thrilled.  

Actually, probably not.  If they’d been cursed, they’d be thrilled.  They’d still be upset about him getting cursed.

“What?”

“I can’t see anything.  I must have triggered it somehow–”  He shook his head, as if that would throw off his blindness.  “The word obscured.  I thought it was just the lighting, but maybe it really flashed?  Um.”  He turned around, carefully.  “I think it was just the words that triggered it, but I’m going to walk in your direction…”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tucker, “you’re going the right way.”

“Just stay straight,” encouraged Sam.  

The building was barely three strides across, but at the same time it was the longest walk he’d ever taken.  He was relieved when Sam and Tucker grabbed him.  

“Alright, so, if you guys can open my kit and get out the magicidium–”

“Blood blossoms.  Let’s call it blood blossoms.”

“Whatever you want,” said Danny.  

“They’re red, right?” asked Sam.

“Yeah, and sparkly.”

“I’ve got it.”

“Good,” said Danny, holding out his hand.  “Can you–  The cap?”

Sam pressed the vial into his hand, her fingers lingering around his as she made sure he had a grip on it.  

“I should just need, like, a sip,” he told himself.  He raised it to his lips, drank, and immediately knew that what he had in his hand wasn’t the blood blossom mixture.

With a calm he didn’t feel, he lowered the vial. 

“Can you see, now?” asked Sam.  

“No,” said Danny.  “I can’t.  What color is this?”  He held up the vial.

“Red,” said Sam.  

“The vial is red,” clarified Danny.

“Yes, that’s what you said, isn’t it?”

“No,” said Danny, closing his eyes.  “That’s- The blood blossoms are red.  But the vial they’re in is green.  This is the mana, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” said Tucker.  

“Kinda crackly glaze, glowing green on the inside?”

“Yeah,” said Tucker, weakly.  “It looked different in the dark.”

“Yeah,” said Danny, voice cracking.  “The dark does that.”

“I thought you said the red vial,” said Sam, very quietly.  “Oh, no, I thought you said the red vial.”  She sounded like she might be about to cry.

“Hey, it’s hard to tell the difference between red and green,” said Tucker, clearly intending to comfort her.    

“Genuinely, it is not.”

Someone, probably Tucker, swallowed audibly.  “You can still take the blood blossoms, though, right?”

“No!  No.  They don’t react well with concentrated mana.”

“By not reacting well, do you mean–”

“Niter isn’t the only thing in my kit that can make explosions.”  He swallowed and opened his eyes.  He still couldn’t see anything but this still felt more like facing things.  “This is fine.  I’m just blind, not dying.”  Probably.  “We’ll just be relying on more guesswork than before.  Or I can try to figure out what it’s saying by touch?”

“No,” said Sam, grabbing his wrist, “do you want to get more cursed?”

“Carefull,” he hissed.  “We don’t want to spill this here.  Where’s the stopper?”

“Here,” said Tucker, taking the vial of mana from him.  

“What else do you remember from what you were reading?  Before you were cursed?”

“I don’t know.  Something about letting magic change you to be…  Something.  And then something about guarding both sides on the next line down.  Or fighting.  Maybe something about waking up.  I don’t remember.”  

“Danny,” said Tucker, “your eyes are glowing.”

“They’re not, like, melting or anything, are they?”

“Just glowing.  The same color as the, uh, stuff.  The mana.”

“And your hair is turning white,” added Sam.  

“Oh, that’s great.  Maybe I am dying.”

“Don’t say that,” said Sam.  “Maybe- Maybe this is magic changing you, and we just have to let it run its course.”

“I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I, but it’s that or you explode, so forgive me for a little optimism!”  She’d never dropped his wrist, and now she trapped his hands between hers.  “I don’t want you to die.”

“Neither do I,” said Tucker.  “You’re my best friend.”

“We haven’t seen each other for years,” said Danny, trying not to sound choked.  “Come on.”

“Hey, some friendships are timeless, right?”

Sam sniffled.  “Even short ones.”

Gods, he really might be dying.  

“Does that mean I can tell people I’m friends with a princess?”

“Only if you want my mother trying to get you executed.”

“That’s not a n–”

The sound of the wall behind him dropping made Danny jump.  But what made him spin was that he could see light coming from behind him.  

Footprints made of flowers glowed on the ground.  A rectangle in the dimensions of the far wall was cut out of the darkness surrounding him.  Beyond it…

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Do you guys see that?”

“Do you?” asked Sam, suddenly sharp.  

“Maybe.”  He took a deep shuddering breath.  “Were there steps leading down to the pond before?  And was the pond glowing?”

“No,” said Tucker.  “But we don’t see that.”

“We see everyone,” said Sam.  “The way out.  The knights are there, someone must have sent for them.”  She laughed.  “We can get out.  They must not be able to see us, though.”

“I don’t think I can go that way,” said Danny.  “I don’t see it.”

He could only see the ancient and watchful trees that surrounded the clearing, the faintly luminous waters of the pond and the steps that led down to them.  Images of trees, not quite reflections, swayed on the pond’s glowing surface, seeming to extend into the depths.

“You should go,” he said, faintly.  “Now.  You don’t know if you’ll get another chance.”

If his heart had been twisting before, it was shuddering now.  

“No,” said Sam.  “No.  I started this.  None of this would have happened if I didn’t bring you here.  I’m not going to leave you.  We’ll go down to the pond with you.  Or at least I will.”  The last was said with an edge of challenge.

“Me, too,” said Tucker, though he seemed far less certain.  “I got you into this mess, Danny.”

“I don’t know that I’m going down to the pond,” said Danny, both touched and annoyed.  “And you don’t know if you can, if you can’t see it.”

“It’s where the path leads,” said Sam, stubbornly.  “Didn’t you read that that’s why this place was built.”

The footprints.  Danny closed his eyes briefly, and nodded.  “Walk where I walk,” he said, putting his foot squarely on the first print.  

He wasn’t sure if it was just the magic doing weird things to his vision, but as he got closer to the opening, the prints seemed to shift when he wasn’t looking straight at them, taking shapes other than a human sole.  He tried not to think about what that might mean.

He stepped out of the building.  Sam and Tucker walked out after him.  

“Wow,” said Sam, looking around.  “That’s… definitely different.”  She waved her hand in front of her.  “It’s like the air is glowing.”

A breeze stirred the waters of the pond to lap at the lowest step.  It felt like they were beckoning him down into that even stranger forest beneath its waters.

He pulled the strap of his travel kit off over his head.  “Here,” he said, handing it to Tucker.  “Just in case.”

“We’re going to be with you,” said Tucker, trying to push it back to him.  

“Yeah, but… Let me go first, alright?”

He stepped down and forward, once, twice, and his foot broke the surface of the water–

.

A forest is not a single thing.  It is a vast and sprawling ecosystem, containing within itself multitudes.  Creatures, plants, and even decay.  Life, limited and not.  Water, from beneath the earth, from the sky, from the rivers and streams, from the lakes and the ponds.  Air and soil and stone.  Death that becomes life and life that becomes death.  The trees stretch upwards.  

Yet, it is a single thing.  

Truthfully, sometimes it is even a single life.  A thousand trees with a single root.

And, here, there was magic.  

The woods woke, stirred from slumber by the ripples of a stone thrown into still water.  

A stone is changed by water.  A stone is changed, also, by the root of a tree piercing through it, dividing it, scattering it.  A stone may be shaped.  A stone may be changed.  But this stone was clay.  This stone was flesh.  This stone was a seed that might yet grow.  This seed was a star that might yet shine.  

They were awake.  

They were awake, and, so, they would wake.  

But the people were the land and the land was the woods, and the heart of the land had long ago promised a champion to the people, a guardian at both sides of the gate.  A contract that was wisdom.

The seed was well rooted, but the star was of the air, and there was accord between heaven and earth.  This satisfied.  But the price of knowledge was always the destruction of ignorance.  

This was the past:  The sword, the spear, the fire, for evil is the reward of evil, and sown salt shall reap no harvest but salt.  Monsters met with monstrous ends, even the monsters who called themselves men.  

“I don’t want to be a killer,” whispered Danny, “I don’t want to kill people.”

Then he would not be, and the gifts of killers would not be his.  

This, too, was the past: The wall.  The tower.  The rope.  The net.  The maze.  The binding word.  The sacrifice.  The promise.  

It shall be kept.  

“It shall be kept.”

And this was the past:  The house that was built under ax and saw, a home for a gardener.  The books that became forests of their own.  Long memories and longer stories, passed on forever.  The campfire and the meal shared.  The trees tended, and new growth rising from ashes. 

“I can do that,” said Danny.  “I can be that.”

The heart of the land sent forth a gift, with passion, wisdom, and wit, and it was received.  That which gives is also given, and that which is gifted may also receive.  There were gifts.  There were expectations.  A gift must be given in turn.

And the fruit of the trees shall sustain.  And the branches of the trees shall shelter.  And that which is protected shall protect.

And this was the future.

.

Danny crawled out of the pond, gasping.  Hands - familiar, now - pulled him up and out.  

“Oh, gods, Danny–”

“What?” he managed, spitting up water.  

“There’s stuff growing on you–”

“Your ears–”

“Princess Samantha!”

Something heavy and hard jostled into their little group, knocking Danny back to the ground.  He could feel it.  The ground.  All those little lives and deaths.  The things growing, hungry, wanting, needing– All the things he could give them–

“Stop this at once!” demanded Sam, bringing him out of… whatever that was.  He looked up and around, and was impressed by how many sharp, shiny, pointy things were pointed in his direction.

He tried to scramble to his feet, but was thwarted by his body deciding it just wasn’t going to do that.  His whole body felt like it had been taken apart and put back together with new parts.

… Which might actually be what happened.  The… presence in the woods within the pond had been…  It had been an experience.  One he wasn’t keen on repeating in the near future but nevertheless ached for.  

His head didn’t hurt anymore, at least.

“Back foul beast!” shouted one of the knights with a spear, his voice reverberating within his helmet.  “You will not lay your hand on the princess–”

“I was the one touching him!  He’s not a beast– Let me go!  Tucker, say something!”

“Please don’t kill us!  Danny’s just cursed!”

“What manner of curses have you wrought upon the princess!  Release her from your geas, monster!”

If Danny wasn’t so scared right now, he’d be laughing.  Who talked like that?

But he was scared.  He needed to get away.  He needed speed, swiftness, and the agility, or at least the size, to avoid all these spears and swords.  

Which was a ridiculous thought to cross his mind, because it wasn’t like he was going to pull any of those things from thin air.  

Except he did.  Change rippled over his body, throwing off white sparks like from fireworks.  Fingernails to claws, hands to paws, ears sharp, tail -  He ran, four-footed, between the feet of the nearest knight, body stretching and contracting in his flat-out sprint as if he knew what he was doing.  

He had no idea what he was doing.  

A spear impacted the ground in front of him, and he startled sideways into a horse’s path.  Everything was so much larger than him, now.  He lashed out, claws raking across the horse’s nose, and the horse reared back, dumping its rider.  

It occurred to Danny, then, in a sort of vague, panicked sense, that whatever he’d turned into, he could cause a lot of chaos.  

The next horse he saw, he went for the eyes.  

He neglected to realize that, as small as he was, chaos might affect him more than it usually did.  

Still, he made it to the brushy edge of the clearing in what he hoped was one piece.  He crawled underneath it, hopping through thin spots whenever he was able.  A tree rose up out of the shrubby mess like a godsent miracle, and he climbed up it, sinking his sharp claws into the bark, until he got to a branch that could support his weight.  His real weight, not whatever he weighed now.  

He huddled down, trying to remember what the change felt like, trying to will it to reverse, to make him himself again–

Slowly, his body returned to normal, fur fading back into skin, claws becoming nails once again.  His clothing, sans shoes, rematerialized from somewhere.  But… This wasn’t what his body had been like when he’d crawled out of the pond.  It had been different, then.  He could feel it.  He knew it.  

The tree he was perched in was not the presence below the pond, but that was a matter of degree, not kind.  The roots of the woods were tangled and reached as far down as the branches reached up.  To stone.  To star.  

It was quiet.  Steady.  Already established.  It didn’t need things from him, not like the ground.  Not right now, anyway.  

But still, it whispered to him, and he knew.  This was no more him than the forest cat's body he'd worn moments ago.

He curled in on himself and cried.

.

Tucker found him first, over a week later.

Although, it might have been better to say that Danny let himself be found.  Shapeshifting into a cat or squirrel helped with hiding, funnily enough.  

Shapeshifting was fun, even if it wasn't worth… everything else.  At least, so long as he was in the trees.  With his feet on the ground, listening to everything beneath them, without the lightning focus of fear, he couldn't direct it.  What he was fell apart into… this.  

Not the same as he'd been as Sam and Tucker dragged him from the pond, but more like it.  A shape closer to what he was wanted to be rather than what he wanted to be.  

But he'd seen Tucker coming, and he didn't want to talk to him while hiding in the trees.  That would be wrong, he felt.  

So, he walked into the middle of the road in front of Tucker, moss and grass curling up around toes that weren’t shaped right.  His fingers were long and sharp and so were his teeth.  He had no idea what his face looked like right now.  He hadn’t been brave enough to check… assuming, of course, that he could even tell by touch.  He could have stripes right now and not know it.  

He hoped he was, at least, recognizable.  

“Danny, gods.  We thought you were dead.”

Oh, good.  At least that fear was unfounded.  

“Hi, Tucker,” said Danny.  After not talking much for a week, his voice was scratchy.  

… Or maybe that was the crying.  Who knew?

“Oh my gods.”  Tucker drew his hands down his face.  “I can understand why you didn’t come back to the city with…”  He gestured at Danny’s entire body.

“That’s not why,” said Danny, before he could continue.  “I can’t leave the woods.”

“You what?  What do you mean, you can’t leave?”

“I just can’t.”  He’d tried to leave, at the beginning, but it didn’t work.  He could walk to the border of the woods, where they opened up into the fields immediately around the city.  He was quite comfortable there, even, standing under those branches, looking out.  But he couldn’t go any further.  

“Because of the curse?”

“I guess,” said Danny.  “There’s not really anything else, is there?  There’s not something that just makes people stop for no good reason.”  

“Can you– I brought the blood blossom stuff, can you take it?  Maybe–”

“No,” said Danny, firmly.

“But–” said Tucker, pulling the green vial out of his pocket.  

Danny wanted to cringe away from it.  “Just.  No.  Tucker…  I’m not sure how much…”  He wasn’t sure how much of him was left that wasn’t magic.  “Sometimes, when curses really take hold, it doesn’t–”  He sucked his lips in and regretted it as his long teeth scrapped at them.  “What do you think happens when that stuff is put on something that is magic?”  Danny tilted his head to the side and tried to smile again.  “It’s been over a week.”  

He watched Tucker’s face shift as he realized what that might mean, and his smile fell as well.  

"I've seen my parents come through a few times," he said, just to say something different.

"Did you talk to them?"

"No." He grimaced.  "Apparently, I'm a creature now.”  He ignored that he’d said as much to Tucker just moments ago.  “It didn't seem… smart."

"That must be…"  Tucker paused to search for an appropriate adjective.  "Hard."

"Yeah."  He'd been wondering if Jazz had come home.  If she was looking for him, too, or if she was still in Elmerton.  If she knew.  But he didn’t want to ask.  

"Sam will want to see you."  Tucker bit his lower lip.  "She kind of… asked if I would look.  I was going to anyway!  But… I can tell her I couldn't find you, if you don't." 

“No, I think I’d like that, actually.  She was right.  It was fun, before.”  He sniffled.  “Maybe we can even try to find what she was actually looking for.”

“Why would you do that?” asked Tucker, aghast.  “Messing around with all of this cursed you to have weird ears and be stuck in the woods for who knows how long.  Let’s just forget–  Well, I mean, avoid anything else like this as much as we can.”

The woods leaned in around them.  “I don’t think it works like that,” said Danny.  “Things are waking up.  And I think… I think the only reason Sam was able to find the- the path was because the woods were already waking up.  And some of the things… I don’t think they’re good, Tuck.”

“That’s not ominous at all,” squeaked Tucker.  “You know your eyes are glowing again, right?”

“Are they?”  He blinked and shook his head.  “Have you been looking for me the whole time?”

Tucker laughed nervously.  “No.  There’s, uh.  Turns out that if you disappear with the princess there are questions.  Lots and lots of questions.  So many questions.”  He shuddered.  “And my master is angry at me.  And the guild is angry with me.  But I’m fine!  What- What have you been up to?  What else have you been up to?  I, uh.  Ha.  Ha?"

A wry smile twitched the corner of Danny's lips.  "The tops of the trees, I guess." 

[topgunreacts]

Wow Maverick bottoms in this IceMav omegaverse fic

excerpt from chapter 19

Ice laid Maverick out on the bed carefully before climbing on top of him, just like he’d done in all his fantasies, but stopped just short of kissing him. His eyes combed Maverick from top to bottom, picking out all the details that mattered: how Maverick was shaking a little from excitement and fear, how hard he was when Ice had barely touched him, and how much smaller in stature he was than anyone else Ice had ever fucked. His sensitive nose took in the unseen: more fear, but also a desire that outstripped it by a mile.

“I want to do this right,” Ice said. “So I’m going to talk you through it. It’s not sexy, but if we rush through things, you could get hurt. And this doesn’t have to hurt. It’ll probably be uncomfortable, but only because it’s new. You’ve never put anything up there, right? Not even when you were alone, just to see what it felt like?”

“Actually, I have put things in there,” Maverick said, flushing when Ice’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. 

“But didn’t you say you’d never…?”

The flush deepened, and Maverick looked away. “So…once I thought there was a chance I’d get fucked, I bought this little dildo and experimented in the shower. Fingers, too, just so I knew where everything was. It wasn’t particularly sexy, though. It could’ve been. But I was just so…” Maverick gestured aimlessly. “Mechanical about it. Like I was administering a suppository or something. Proof of concept. I have reason to believe your method will be better.”

“I haven’t seen a new dildo anywhere in the house,” Ice said, craning his neck to scan the entire bedroom for unfamiliar dildos. “Or in your work locker. Where were you hiding it?”

“If you really didn’t know, then I’m not telling you,” said Maverick, grinning when Ice shot him a withering glare. “Hey, come on. Maybe I’ll need that hiding spot again.”

“It’s my house,” Ice grumbled. 

“And it’s my secret dildo,” Maverick countered.

“How big was it?”

“Little.”

“Dimensions, please.”

“That is shockingly rude of you. Asking about a man’s dildo like that. His first one, too. Maybe he's shy about it.”

Ice tried for physical persuasion; he slipped one knee between Maverick’s legs and put pressure on his erection. “It’s a practical question meant to assess your experience level.”

Maverick writhed against Ice’s knee, but he wasn’t down for the count quite yet: rather than confess, he turned his head. “Not telling.”

Ice sighed. But he wasn’t mad. He couldn’t be—not with Maverick lying beneath him so trustingly, all soft and loose despite the slight tremble in his arms.

more at the link

[vodika-vibes]

might I request something for Niner Skirata? Something sweet and romantic, maybe him and the reader realizing they’re madly in love with each other?

Winter Love

Summary: It's time for the winter festival, and naturally, you're bringing Niner.

Pairing: Niner Skirata x Reader

Word Count: 765

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. Niner doesn't have much personality written down either, so I had to guess. I hate it when I have to do that.

“Come on!” You laugh as you take Niner’s hand and tug him in the direction of the park, “We’re going to miss it!” 

“I highly doubt that,” Niner replies, even as he allows you to drag him the short distance to the park, “Remind me again why you’re dragging me around the cold and snow?”

“Because it’ll be fun!” You run a little ahead of him and then spread your arms wide, “Ta-dah!”

Niner sighs and looks around at the park. It’s crowded. More than crowded, it’s packed, “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s going on?”

“It’s the Winter Festival! There’s snowball fights,” You motion to one side, “Sledding,” you motion to the other, “Snow sculpting!” You gesture to the back where people are crafting intricate designs out of snow, “Ice skating,” You point to the lake, “And hot chocolate and sweets!”

Niner looks around, and then sighs, “This…looks very busy, and I’d rather just go home.”

You clasp your hands just under your nose, “Please?”

“I…you…” Niner sighs deeply, “Fine. But I’m not making a snow sculpture or going sledding.”

“Great! I just want to go ice skating anyway!” You take his hand again and tug him towards the lake, “I brought ice skates for both of us.”

“What if you hadn’t been able to convince me to stay?” He asks, curiously, as you hand him a pair of skates.

And you giggle, “You never say no to me, Niner.”

He pauses, and then curses under his breath, “Just because you’re right-”

You laugh and pull him over to an open bench, “Come on! It’ll be fun!” You sit down and start to pull on your skates. Niner hesitates a moment longer, just for appearances sake probably, before he drops onto the spot next to you and also pulls his skates on.

“I’m going to fall and break my head open,” He complains under his breath.

“You are not! I’ve never seen you fail at anything you put your mind to,” You carefully stand, and beam at him, “Come on! You’re going to be great at this, just like you are at everything else!”

Niner flashes a small smile, “I think you’re biased.” He also stands, a lot more steadily than you, and you cheerfully take his hand, partly for support, but mostly because you like being close to him.

You carefully step onto the ice, and skate a little bit away from Niner, and then you stop so he can join you.

He’s a little unsteady on the blades, but you watch, awed, as he teaches himself to skate in the few moments it takes him to move from the shore to you. “I knew you would be great!” You exclaim as you skate over to him and reach out to take his hand again.

Niner accepts your hand without a second thought, and lightly tugs you closer so that you’re not in the way of the other skaters, “You say that about everything when it comes to me.” He sounds amused, “Why are you so sure that I’m going to be amazing at everything?”

You blink up at him, “Because you’re you!” You say honestly.

He laughs softly, and brings his free hand up to brush a snowflake off your cheek, “Careful, beautiful, I might start to think that you’re in love with me at this rate.”

You smile shyly, “Would that be so bad?”

Niner’s fingers pause, and his smile softens, “Less so than you might think.” He threads his fingers with yours and tugs you to start moving.

You move so you’re skating next to him, “What do you mean by that?”

“Hm? Oh. I recently came to terms with the fact that I love you.” Niner says, as though he’s not admitting something huge, “It’s why I let you get away with dragging me out to places I normally wouldn’t go.”

You blink at him, stunned.

“And, by that, I mean that Kal’buir told me that I was in love with you, and that I needed to stop running away from it.” Niner continues, “And he’s right, as he normally is.”

“You’re in love with me?”

“So it seems.” Niner smiles at you, soft and a little nervously, “Is that okay?”

You grin at him and nod eagerly, “More than okay. Why do you think I’m always hanging around you?”

Niner laughs softly, and quickly leans in to press a kiss against the corner of your lips, “Come on, cyare, you wanted to skate, then let’s skate. We can figure out the rest of this later.”

You giggle and nod, “Deal!”

[iamvegorott]

A sequel to this Danti angst: Link

-----------

“Darkiplier, have you lost your mind!?” Wilford snapped as he stormed into the office, tucking his phone into his back pocket. Marvin had texted him moments ago about what had happened between Dark and Anti. 

“My mind is still intact, and I am working,” Dark stated flatly, having disconnected himself from everything and did his usual routine of sucking himself into work. He knew Wilford was beyond upset with him since he never used full names. 

“One of those statements is a lie; I will make the other the same.” Wilford slammed Dark’s laptop shut and tossed it over to the little couch, not wanting to break it but still adding to his point that he would not be ignored. 

“Wilford, there is no need-”

“What did you do to Anti?” Wilford cut Dark off. 

“I didn’t do anything. I simply put things how they should be to prevent him from getting hurt.” Dark sighed and stood up, prepared to leave the room before the conversation went how he didn’t want it to.

“Well, you failed at that.” Wilford snapped his fingers, and a pink wormhole appeared next to Dark.

“Wil, what are you-Wilford!” Dark snapped as Wilford suddenly grabbed him and shoved his head through the wormhole, having that part of him now at the Septiceye House, observing the scene from the ceiling and hidden from the view of those in the room. 

“Darling, it’ll be okay,” Marvin spoke softly as he rubbed Anti’s back. Anti was curled up a little, face pressed into Mad’s chest, using him to muffle his sobs. The three of them were on the couch.

“He’s an oblivious idiot, and this is coming from me,” Mad said, trying to help lighten the mood as he rubbed Anti’s back with Marvin. 

“I shouldn’t be like this.” Anti sniffed. “I should know better. That it was obvious from the start, but I…I still feel so gross…so used. That I was nothing more than a good fuck even though I literally signed up for that.” 

“Love is complicated, dear.” Marvin said. 

“Why do I have to love him? Why can’t I just hate him? Why couldn’t I just stay neutral and enjoy what we did have? I’m supposed to be heartless, a fucking monster that kills people for money. Why do I have to have these damned feelings that hurt so much?” Anti broke down again at the end, face back into Mad’s chest. 

“I found every single sugary item in the House. Jackie even donated some cookies Phantom made him earlier.” Chase said as he came into the room, arms filled with chocolates, ice cream, and cookies. “How are we doing?” He asked as he sat his collection down on the coffee table. Marvin just shook his head. That was all Chase needed to know. “You guys eat up, and I’m going to shoot Dark in the dick.” 

“Chase, sweetie, no.” Marvin caught the back of Chase’s shirt. 

“Fine, then I’ll just punch him a few times, and if a few of them just so happens to land on his dick, that’s on him.”

“Chase.”

“I have to do something, Marv. The asshole broke Anti’s heart.” Chase protested.

“If you want to do something, turn a movie on and sit with us. Anti needs comfort, not conflict.”

“But-”

“Please.” Marvin gently squeezed Chase’s arm, gesturing his head to Anti. Chase saw how Anti had practically drenched the front of Mad’s shirt with his tears, and his shoulders relaxed.

“Okay. I’ll stay.” 

“Thank you.” 

Dark was yanked back out of the wormhole when Wilford decided he had seen enough. He watched the pink vanish, and it took a few blinks to get the colored dots out of his eyes, vision returning to normal. 

“Prevent him from being hurt? Pretty sure a shattered heart hurts a lot.” Wilford said. 

“It’s better for him to have the pain now than to prolong it and cause it to become worse.” Dark’s head hung, a hand holding the edge of his desk as if that grip was the only thing keeping him standing. 

“What is happening to you? You’re usually a lot smarter with this stuff. Your whole schtick is messing with people’s heads and making them believe that everything you’re saying is for the best. Usually, the only reason why you can’t mess with someone’s head is when you care about them. That’s why you don’t even try with me. So…” Wilford twirled his hand in the air, gesturing for Dark to finish his sentence for him. 

“I can’t get into Anti’s head,” Dark admitted. “I can’t do my schtick, as you put it. I never have been able to. At first, I believed it was sexual attraction, that being the only other reason why I cannot work my abilities, but as time went on, I realized that…” His voice trailed off as he sighed. “It doesn’t matter.” 

“I am kicking both of your shins. Of course, it matters. What did you realize?” Wilford was urging Dark to actually say it. Hard to deny something when you’ve admitted it. 

“I don’t need to say it.” Dark shook his head.

“Say it! Stop hiding from it!” Wilford snapped, walking up to Dark and leaning over to make him look at his face. 

“I care for him, alright?” Dark tried to turn away, but Wilford grabbed his wrist. 

��You care for him?” Wilford’s voice showed he would keep prying until he heard what he wanted.

“I love him, okay!?” Dark yanked his arm free. “I love him, and I am an idiot and a fucking coward! I’m pushing him away because I am afraid. I am scared I’m not good enough, that I don’t know what I’m doing, and I am going to hurt him beyond repair without meaning to.” He stopped and made a face, looking annoyed at himself. “I want him to forget about me and find someone who can make him happy. He deserves to be with someone that can do that. Not with whatever the hell I am.” 

“Well, you’re right about being an idiot.” Wilford clicked his tongue. “But you could reverse that by proving you’re not a coward and talking to Anti about how you really feel.” 

“I can’t do that to him.” 

“Can’t do what? Continue the thing that’s been making both of you the happiest you’ve been in a long time. Ever since you and Anti got over the whole pretending to be hate-fucking thing, you two have been practically bubbly.” Wilford sighed and placed his hands on Dark’s shoulders. “You both love each other, he’s confessed to you and you just told me. Why break something that worked so well together? The only difference is that you’ll have a different label to it. Maybe you’ll kiss a little more outside of bedroom activities, maybe even hold hands and sometimes hang out together on those little things called dates.” 

“But he-”

“Stop saying ‘but’ to everything and go talk to him. You always have so many words. Surely, you can string some of them together and let Anti know what’s happening. He’ll probably be pissed at first, can’t blame him for that, but he’ll understand. Tell him the truth, Dark. Tell him the truth, and it’ll all work out.” Wilford waited as Dark just stood there, looking at him before finally swallowing and saying softly.

“Okay…I’ll talk to him.” 

-----

@ariesshower824 @bookwormscififan