#ink gone dry

[crystal-verse]

Day 13 - Butte

[writing this for the make-up day since i didn't get to it on time earlier, oops]

"Do you think the Ostall Imperative counts as a butte?" Sae'pheli'ehva asks, one day, swinging his legs lazily through the air as they both sit at the little watchtower by the Tenemos Rookery.

"Could you clarify that question?" Raha asks, tilting their head somewhat to the side. It's still so very -- odd, to walk about with the cowl down, but Sae'pheli'ehva's easy acceptance, and the easy acceptance of the Crystarium's people, does much to soothe any lingering anxieties.

"Like -- " Sae'pheli'ehva begins, cutting himself off with a frustrated noise. This, too, is something new -- an effort to speak, even if all the words may not be composed in the moment. "So, a butte is like. . . a really steep hill or mountain that's moreso than the rest of the surrounding terrain, right?"

"I suppose." Raha agrees. "By that logic, I am inclined to say the Ostall Imperaive does not count, on account of it being connected to the cliffs near the Source, rather than any hills that jut out particularly much."

A quiet hum. "That reminds me -- there's more of Lakeland than just what I've seen so far, isn't there?"

Raha inclines his head, in a half nod. "That is correct, yes."

Sae'pheli'ehva grins down at him, then, eyes curving into little smiles. "Do you think there's Norvrandt's version of the little crystal cave in Mor Dhona we found, back when you were helping me look for the different pieces of Summoner outfits and artifacts and such?"

"There. . . may." Raha agrees, slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I want to take you on an adventure with me, you silly man." Sae'pheli'ehva looks at them as if they're foolish. "And -- this way we'll still be in Lakeland, so you won't be too far from your Tower, so you won't get all fatigued."

"I --" Raha has to close their mouth, from the sudden swell of emotion. "I should like that very much, Sae'pheli'ehva."

"Pheli." The other corrects, that smile still curling his eyes. "If you're Raha, then I'm Pheli, okay?"

". . . alright, Pheli. Thank you."

"Of course." Pheli bunts his head against Raha's shoulder, and -- they will go on their little adventure, soon. But right now, they are simply sitting and enjoying the breeze together.

[lovieku]

obvious ⋆ jeon jeongguk

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

based on this ask

pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers

ratings: +18 / mdi

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (4 years), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33

word count: 12.9k

a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻

you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.

but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.

there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.

meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.

jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.

“looking for anything in particular?”

when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.

he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”

the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.

you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.

you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.

jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.

there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.

deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.

yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.

it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”

when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.

he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”

“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”

he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.

you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”

jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”

your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”

what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”

you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.

and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.

but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.

still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.

and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.

jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.

you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.

jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.

it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.

one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.

by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”

you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.

he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”

the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.

you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”

he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”

the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.

when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.

he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.

jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.

only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.

but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.

your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.

you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”

he hummed softly.

“i want you to kiss me.”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.

jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”

you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.

but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.

he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”

”what? why not?”

your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.

jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”

”but i am sure about it. i want you.”

once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”

your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.

he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.

you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”

his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.

he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.

but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.

you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.

with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.

he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—

“hello?”

his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”

”that would be me, ma’am.”

“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.

”hey. feeling better, miss?”

his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”

jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.

you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”

when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.

it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.

jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.

you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.

with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.

but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.

on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.

and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.

through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.

“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”

you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.

you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”

“i do. very badly.”

his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.

you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”

jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.

it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.

with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.

he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.

you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.

his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.

he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”

in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.

instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.

jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.

”yeah? you like that?”

you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.

”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.

you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”

it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.

you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”

he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”

his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.

you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.

the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.

he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.

he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.

you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.

he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.

he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.

he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.

he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.

you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”

you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.

jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”

“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.

“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.

you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.

when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.

jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.

you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.

“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.

you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”

it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”

your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.

jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.

he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”

the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“

“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”

the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.

he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”

”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.

you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.

he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”

you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”

he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”

you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”

the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”

the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.

he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.

the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.

“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.

but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.

your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”

he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”

jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.

you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”

you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.

you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”

when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.

the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”

he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.

your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.

but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”

you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”

the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”

you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”

he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.

his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.

a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.

he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.

”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.

when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.

he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.

jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.

he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.

you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.

when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”

he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.

you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”

“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.

his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.

what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.

you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.

jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.

your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”

he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.

it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”

he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”

you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”

jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.

he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”

his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.

now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?

but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.

ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.

you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”

the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.

it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”

you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”

the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.

it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.

you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.

you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.

jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.

your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.

in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”

jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”

you whispered, ”please.”

”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”

your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.

in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”

”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.

as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“

”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.

jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.

he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”

you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”

”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.

“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.

as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.

jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.

you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.

as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.

he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”

”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”

”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.

he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.

”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.

it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.

”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.

your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.

it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.

you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.

when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.

you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.

he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”

“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”

“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”

his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.

the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.

he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”

he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”

you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.

now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.

the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.

the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.

your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.

as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”

you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.

he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.

soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.

you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.

”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.

”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.

and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.

the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.

jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”

you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.

jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“

”wanna make you cum, gguk.”

he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.

”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.

but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”

your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.

his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.

”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”

his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.

the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.

you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.

“sweetheart. you sleepy?”

you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.

he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.

as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.

luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.

he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.

but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.

with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.

“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”

jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.

instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.

it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.

but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.

your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”

he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”

your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”

“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.

you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”

jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”

the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.

but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.

he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”

your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”

“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”

with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”

“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.

“you’re so gross.”

“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.

chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.

at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.

it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”

“hmm?”

“i’m so happy.”

his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.

you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”

your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.

he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”

the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.

your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.

you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.

his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”

the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”

he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.

the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.

he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.

he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.

the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”

it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.

but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.

you were the truth. he was in love.

so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”

the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.

“i love you too, gguk.”

it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.

all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warmth nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.

it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.

when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.

and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.

despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.

quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.

even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.

jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.

you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.

“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“

those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”

you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”

you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.

he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.

“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Z 🐉🥵🍎

Excellent choice. this was very fun to write! 🐉❤️

A welcome distraction

Rated: E

Words: 980

Tags: Fantasy AU; dragon!Eddie; king!Steve; established relationship; mates; soul bond; cock warming; edging; anal sex; monsterfucking; that's right, that monster gets fucked

Notes: Set in the same universe as Hic sunt dracones

Sometimes, Steve hates being king. He loves his people, but some days, he'd rather fight a hundred more usurpers than suffer through another day of audiences and paperwork. 

Stifling a yawn, he grasps for the bowl of fruit Joyce brought. It's almost empty, but the pile of documents awaiting his signature is still as large as it was hours ago. He sighs, popping a berry into his mouth and pulling the next page from the stack. He squints in the flickering candlelight, trying to concentrate, but reading feels like trying to move through sludge. Steve groans and reaches for the bowl again. 

He comes up empty.

He keeps groping around for a moment, but finds only the surface of the desk. 

“What the-?” he mutters, looking up. 

The bowl is gone. 

While Steve is still staring at the spot of thin air that has taken its place, something at the back of his mind starts to tickle. The mental equivalent of a poorly restrained cackle. 

“Really?” Steve rolls his eyes. “You'll do anything for attention, won't you?” 

A blueberry flies from the shadows, hitting his chest.

“Oh dear,” says the darkness, unfurling leathery wings, and the sound is home. “My king is grouchy.” 

“My dragon is annoying,” Steve retaliates, but his mouth tugs into a grin as Eddie peels himself from the shadows, crowding him into his chair. “Anything you wanted? Apart from throwing food at- Get your ass off the desk, I'm reading that!”

Eddie obeys gladly, nudging Steve's knees apart so that he can settle on the ground by his feet.

“Want what's mine,” he purrs against Steve’s lips. “Want you.”

“Eddie, c’mon,” Steve says. The words come out around a gasp as Eddie nips at the bite mark on his shoulder. “Let me finish first.” 

“Don't worry, beloved,” Eddie's hands find the bindings of his pants. “I'll let you finish alright, but first we’ll-” 

“Oh no, we won't,” Steve snaps, pushing him off with one hand and gesturing at the pile of documents with the other. “Nobody is finishing before I'm done here. Is that clear?” 

A heartbeat passes in silence. Then, Eddie’s offended scowl morphs into a devious grin. The bond thrums with mischief and desire, and Steve knows he did this to himself. 

*

Steve scrawls his signature onto another document. It comes out wobbly and almost misses the line, little drops of ink splattering all over the parchment. He doesn’t even wait for it to dry, just slams it on the pile with the finished ones. A quick glance reveals that there’s two more left. He groans in frustration, trying to shift in his seat, trying to gain more leverage, more friction, more of that delicious, wet warmth. It’s no use. There’s two strong hands on his hips, holding him firmly in place. 

“Eddie,” he whimpers. “Please, c’mon, you’ve made your point.” 

His dragon hums at the sound of his name, the vibration sending little sparks up Steve’s spine, then pulls off his cock with an obscene, wet sound. 

“No can do, beloved,” he laments, glancing up at Steve from below dark lashes. His eyes are pure gold in the candlelight. “You said no finishing before-” 

“Fuck,” Steve swears. His hips twitch feebly in Eddie’s hold. “There’s only two left, I can do these tomorrow, please, I-” 

Eddie licks a long, hot stripe all the way from his base to his leaking tip, and the words trail off into an incoherent moan. 

“Wouldn’t want to keep my king from his duties,” Eddie rumbles, breath cool and ticklish against the sheen of his own spit. “Now come on. You’ve lasted so long, you can do two more.” 

And then, without waiting for a reply, he swallows Steve’s cock again. Steve feels that throat constricting, feels that wicked tongue teasing at his balls. Feels Eddie’s cock pressing into his leg as his dragon adjusts his position, and knows that he’s just as desperate for it. 

“Oh Gods, I hate you!” he groans. 

Eddie laughs, wrecked and muffled around the weight on his tongue, and lust coils in Steve’s abdomen like a spring, wound tight and waiting to snap. 

He yanks the two remaining documents towards himself, scribbling something vaguely resembling a signature somewhere near the bottom of both in one jerky movement before he slams the quill down on the desk. It snaps. Ink splatters on wood, and he knows the stains will never come out. He doesn’t care. 

“Done,” he rasps. “C'mon, c’mon, please!” 

His hands land on a horn and a fistful of hair, yanking so hard it must be painful, but Eddie doesn't complain. Instead, he scrambles into Steve’s lap and impales himself on his cock, all in one, fluid blur of movement. Their lips meet, and the taste of himself on Eddie’s tongue, the feeling of his mate clenching around him, is all it takes. Steve shatters apart with a hoarse moan, and Eddie greedily licks it out of his mouth while he spills inside of him. 

“You're a menace,” Steve tells him between sloppy kisses, once he's found his voice again. “Distracting me from work like that.” 

“Oh?” Eddie grins. “If anything, I think I made you work faster.” 

“Except I have no idea what I just signed,” Steve replies, snorting when his dragon nuzzles his throat playfully. “Peace treaty? War declaration? Who knows?” 

“Who cares?” Eddie quips, standing from the chair and stretching languidly. “Sounds like a tomorrow problem to me.” 

“Wait, woah!” Steve yelps as he is picked up and carried out of the study. “Where are we going?” 

Eddie laughs as he kicks open the door to their bed chamber. 

“What do you think, my love? You may be done, but I’m not. I plan on changing that. And maybe after …,” he grins down at Steve, all fangs and hungry golden eyes, “I'll let you finish some more.”

"Yeah, sorry your treaty is all crumpled up. My dragon sat on it."

More celebration ficlets

[jarofstyles]

Azure- Indigo 5

Helllooo my loves! Here is part 5 to indigo. It's really cute I can't lie, I'm proud of this story :')

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to the next 3 parts of Indigo.

Series Masterlist

WC- 5.4k

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

Y/N had forgotten how Harry appeared to other people. 

She had been almost floating on air the rest of the weekend, a smile permanently on her face as she walked about her apartment, tending to chores and making sure to take time to look after her tattoo. She had been diligent about her research beforehand, yes, but it was even more imperative now that she kept the piece in pristine condition. 

They’d been texting frequently. Once she had gotten home, he had responded back and it simply hadn’t stopped. There were pauses, warnings from him that he had a client coming in or he was going on a run, but most of the weekend had been spent texting him, giggling at her phone, getting to know him a bit more. His texting style was a bit similar to how he spoke, a bit of dry humor sprinkled in. It seemed he was a little more bold through the phone as well, messaging her with smooth flirtation and obvious interest in her stories. He asked involved questions, checked in on her multiple times, but he wasn’t overly bearing. Y/N felt like she was being hand fed bits and pieces of the man that had always puzzled her. 

“So who’s the guy that had you pretending you’re not smiling at your phone?” Over brunch, Y/N’s friend Julia had caught on to her sneaking peeks at her phone, smiling to herself and trying to pace responses. It wouldn’t be hard for anyone to notice this. Y/N couldn’t be subtle if it could save her life. Once you got to know her, it was even more obvious that her feelings would be displayed out for anyone to see. A real heart on her sleeve type of girl. 

Y/N hadn’t wanted to bring him up initially, but the excitement to finally dish about a guy she was actually excited about seeing- even if it was only one planned date- had her mouth almost ready to burst. She didn’t want to tell anyone in their initial friend group because… because what if it didn’t work and then everyone made it super awkward? Y/N did not do good with that sort of pressure and honestly, she would most definitely cry if someone teased her for not being able to keep up with Harry. 

Julia, however? Sweet Julia was a former coworker, mostly removed from that group of friends and it was easier to dish when she hadn’t met him. 

“Well…” Y/N tucked her hair back over her shoulder, fiddling with her napkin. “It’s a guy I’ve known for a bit. He’s actually the one who did my tattoo.” Lifting her arm she motioned to the ink that her friend had previously fawned over. She had a few tattoos herself and had been impressed at how good it had turned out despite some of the detail being scabbed over. Y/N had taken a bit of the moisturizer Harry had given her out after their drinks and shown her, the whole thing. 

“Ohmygod- a tattoo artist?” Her friend’s eyes widened. “The one who did that one? You sly thing… did you get down and dirty in the studio? Oh my god, you gave it so good he had to see more of you? Y/N, you’ve been holding out on me!”

Y/N gaped, floundering for a moment before housing her friends with wide eyes. Her voice hadn’t exactly been quiet and she could feel the lava burning underneath her skin. She loved Julia, but she didn’t have a sense of volume sometimes. “Jules!” She hissed, shaking her head. “No! I didn’t- I didn’t do anything in the studio. No, he was completely and utterly professional and sweet.” There was a weird need to defend Harry’s honor. 

In reality, there was no true idea in her mind if Harry did that sort of stuff before. With how attractive he was, she was sure people attempted it but she doubted he would actually do so. Not when he had worked so hard on his shop’s reputation. He’d told her all about that when they’d gone out afterwards.

“Ok, then what the hell happened? What is his name? Let me see him, immediately.” Her expectant hand shot out, looking at her with a raised brow as Y/N chuckled at her friends' antics- and her audacity. She was lucky Y/N loved her. 

“His name is Harry.” Her voice was soft as she typed his username into the instagram search bar. “He’s a tattoo artist. I met him through our friend group. He’s a friend of Sarah’s. He did my tattoo at his own shop. He owns it himself, and he’s got a few people who work there too.” Pride bled from her voice as she pulled his profile up and handed it over. There weren't too many of him. He had a few tagged, a few photos on his own, but it was mostly his tattoo work and random things here and there. “He’s got a few awards and done a few famous people’s work. It’s so cool. He drew my tattoo up right next to me in his office, his process is so interesting.” 

The girl was chirping about him as if she was already smitten, a dreamy little smile on her lips slipping a bit as she took in Julia’s expression. “What?” 

“Nothing! Nothing- not a bad look, I promise.” Julia hurried to correct her face but she turned the phone back to Y/N. “This is him? The one in the black?” 

It was a photo of him she had seen the other night while she did her obligatory snooping in his tagged. A tight black tee shirt with the Harley Davidson logo on the chest covered his torso and tight fitting black jeans covered his bottom down to his brown boots. His arms bulged slightly as they were crossed over his body, a pint in hand as he looked at the camera. The other hand held out a middle finger over his arm, a cold scowl on his face. His piercings glimmered in the photo, an obvious flash used. It was part of Sarah’s summer photo dump, one he had commented a simple eye roll emoji for despite liking it. Y/N’s snooping was thorough. 

“Yeah… Isn’t he cute?” Y/N asked nervously. It wasn’t that she needed her friend’s acceptance. She liked Harry either way. It would just be nice to not feel a bit off guard when she had expected a squeal back from seeing him. Harry was hot, that was no question. Even if you simply spoke to him without seeing his physical appearance, it was more than obvious he was just an attractive man in general. 

“Cute isn’t the word I’d use. He’s good looking but… He’s a little scary for you, isn’t he?” 

While she knew that the question was most likely an innocent one, it raised her hackles a little bit. Sure, maybe he looked a little scary. Maybe he was intimidating to most. But that didn’t have much to do with anything. “No, I don’t think so. He’s incredibly sweet and kind. He didn’t even charge me for my tattoo and tried to venmo me back his tip but he’s… He’s a little shy.” It had been apparent to her when he had told her why he had been so silent around her. “He tells awful jokes and he’s taking me to a drive-in movie this weekend because he remembered that I liked the one they’re showing. He’s really thoughtful. I know he’s got tattoos and piercings but that doesn’t mean-”

“Woah, slow your roll, Cinnamon Bun.” Julia placed her hand over Y/N’s. “I didn’t mean anything mean by it. Not at all. I’m sure that if you’re with him, he’s a nice guy.” Her face showed guilt for working Y/N up, scooting her chair closer to her. “I just mean he seems a bit intimidating. You know that I’m used to seeing you fawn over more sporty guys, the cleaner cut ones. It was just that he’s different from the norm for you, babe.” 

Y/N’s wind sank and her sails dropped as she realized what her friend had meant. Of course it hadn’t been meant in malice, but she still worried. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that. I just think.. I think he’s had a lot of people assume a lot of things about him in the past and it makes me weirdly protective of him. I know I’m kind of his opposite in a lot of ways and it makes me a little insecure because I know people will definitely call it out. Your meaning isn’t bad but eventually people are going to see I don’t seem to be the normal type for him.” 

That was the truth. Y/N had seen peeks of girls he had flirted with or gone off to hook up with and they didn’t exactly look like her. Not at all. 

“Oh, babe. I’m sorry.” Julia sighed. “No. I didn’t mean it that way. If anyone has shit to say, fuck ‘em. I was just surprised. You’ve never been the bad boy aesthetic type but hey, if he’s nice to you that’s all that matters. As long as he knows you’ve got a miniature blonde friend who’s ready to attack ankles at any moment for hurting you and knows how to hide bodies… we’re all good.” 

Y/N had let it go. Julia meant well, but this was exactly why she wanted to wait a bit to let their friend group know they were… something? Seeing each other? They hadn't even gone on a date yet so it seemed to be a stretch to say dating, but whatever it was. Not until it felt steady. They’d all worry over her and warn Harry off when in reality, all he had done in the past was be anxious and let Y/N read him wrong. 

She wanted to protect him from the ribbing and the questions and let them get to know one another in a more intimate way privately. It would be something she would have to bring up to him later…. But how?

—-------------

H: Hi, gorgeous. What are you up to?

Y/N: Hi hi :) Just got done making cinnamon bread. 

H: And are you bringing me a piece of that tonight? 

H: Please say yes or I’ll probably cry. 

Y/N: Of course, crazy. What do you take me for?

H: A goddess, if you continue bringing me baked goods. 

H: But please remember that there is a snack counter there and I will be happy to buy you whatever you want from there or pick up something beforehand. 

Y/N: I really can pay for some of it myself. I feel a little bad making you pay for everything, you’ve already got the tickets. 

H: I’ve got the tickets and more. If I’m taking you out, I’m paying, sweetheart. Nonnegotiable. Your payment can be some of that bread, if it makes you feel better. 

H: I’m just happy you said yes and are giving me a chance after I’ve made an ass of myself. 

Y/N: H :( no

Y/N: You didn’t mean to make me feel bad. I internalized it and maybe you need to work on communication a bit but honestly, It’s all water under the bridge!!! I’m really really excited to go out with you. 

Harry ran his hand over his face. His wrist ached from the 6 hour session the day prior but he was more than a mess of nerves now that the time for their date was almost here. He vacuumed out his car, cleaned it, sprayed with some sort of spray, and replaced the little vent air freshener. The whole thing. His range rover wasn’t ideal for this sort of thing so he had chosen his vintage convertible. The bench seat could lay back and provide more lounging space- and that’s exactly what he had wanted. 

This had been his first dream purchase once he started making more money at his shop. As soon as he finished his car payments on the Range Rover, he had set his sights on a vintage car to cruise around in by himself during the warm nights, a good sound system having been modified in it so he could lose himself in thought while driving down the coastline. This car was his baby. Soft yellow exterior with a pinstripe detail, the smooth car appealed to him immediately. He’s spent months scouring sites and driving to look at different listings but this one had his heart immediately. There hadn’t been too much to change on it, but he had made his personalization with black and white fuzzy dice hanging off the rearview mirror, said sound system, and refreshed seats. The car had been his reward for the hard work and his endless backaches from being hunched over tattooing. 

It had been a no brainer to choose this one but he did worry about if Y/N would think he was being overly flashy. Harry had never been one to show his money off to the masses, instead choosing to invest a lot and keep everything quiet. He’d seen some friends, seen his own clients even complain about how people used them for money and with the concept being newer to him, he wanted to be responsible. He’d read too many financial horror stories on reddit to risk it. His mates guessed he made a decent amount considering how much his minimum was and how picky he was with clients, and sure he picked up the tab a lot without saying who did it, but he tried to keep himself a bit guarded with that. He hoped that if this continued with Y/N- which god, he was praying it would- she wouldn’t be upset with him keeping that a bit of a secret. 

To be honest, he was overthinking every single thing. Despite appearing cool, calm and collected in his texts, he had felt like his thoughts were running out of his head at max speed. Realistically, he knew Y/N wouldn’t have said yes if she didn’t want to. She’d have been more than justified if she had, but somehow Harry must have done something right to get the karma to have not only her forgiveness, but her affection. Even the slightest bit. 

Triple checking his outfit, he had felt silly brushing his overgrown hair out of his face but still made sure that there hadn’t been some miracle stain that showed up on his tee shirt or new rip in his pants. There wasn’t, as suspected, and he finally made himself leave the house. The car had the blankets folded in the trunk, along with the two oversized pillows he had purposely chosen despite being a bit chunky. They were straight off his bed, the best ones he had ever found. The plush purple blanket was oversized, a steal from a liquidation store he went to just to feel like he could ‘treasure hunt’ was big enough to cover the seats, and he had a few different ones for Y/N to choose from in the back. 

Was she a faux fur blanket girl? Linen? Crochet? Plush? Velveteen? Another obscure but endearing thing he wanted to carve out of her. 

The drive to her place consisted of Lana Del Rey and the top up of the car. It was obvious it was a convertible but he was trying to keep the warm breeze as a shared experience for them both tonight. The real nerves had hit outside of her stairs, his phone dipped back in his pocket once she had told him she was on her way down. His palms were sweating, a constant reminder of himself to not fuck this up playing on a neverending loop in his head. 

The world went quiet for a moment, though, once Y/N opened the door and shot him a smile so sweet that it almost hurt his own teeth. 

Every time he saw Y/N he had been in awe of her beauty, but it hit a little different now. She had dressed up for the purpose of going out with him. Her lavender colored dress with slightly puffy sleeves, casual as ever with its soft looking fabric, but seeing something like that on her was bringing it to a new level. It swished on her thighs, brushing an inch or so above her knees. Sandals were on her feet and a cream colored oversized bag that resembled one he brought to the beach was hung over her shoulder, snapping against the pavement as she descended the stairs and made her way over to him. 

“Hi!” She chirped, eyes sparkling slightly in the afternoon sun. Sunset would happen in just 30 or so minutes and he had to wonder how his brain would handle seeing her in a golden glow in his car. On a date with him. “You look really handsome, H.” 

It was so opposite what people would assume of a man with his general outward demeanor and rough around the edges appearance. His cheeks heating and having to swallow a lump in his throat to unknot so he could reply to a simple compliment, you’d never expect it. Harry liked that maybe only Y/N would be able to uncover a part of him he kept hidden to protect himself from hurt. The iron armor he kept guarding his heart seemed to melt to molten metal when she reached up to take a hug from him. She smelled so fresh, like laundry in the best way. The warm type right out of the dryer, unsullied from any possible contaminants. She smelled brand new, a start over for him. 

“You always seem to outdo yourself in how gorgeous y’look when I see you.” His guts had returned when he was hugging her, unable to see her reaction. Somehow, Harry could remain stone faced when drunk people came in demanding ink, when he’d gotten in fights at bars during that rougher period, but he couldn't control himself around a soft little doe of a girl like Y/N. 

“Thank you.” She grinned, pulling back with her eyes finding his until her attention was stolen by the car behind him. “Oh my god… Is this a new car?” 

Pride bloomed in his chest as she fawned over his car, one of his prized possessions that she was slightly bouncing on her toes as her hand ran over the hood. This was the reaction he had been hoping for. “Well, technically it’s an old one.” The joke was cracked with a smirk, making Y/N laugh and his chest feel full. 

“No shit, funny man.” Her hand pushed his bicep. “I mean, when did you get it? I’ve never seen you drive this, just your Range Rover.” 

“It’s sort of a special occasion car. Drives down the coast mostly, sometimes car meets if Niall finds one and tells me to bring it. I got it a while ago but the other car is more practical so it stays in the garage while I put the milage on the other one.” He placed a hand on the handle to open up her door, letting her take a look inside. “It’s really special to me. I try t’be careful with her.”

“Her?” Y/N rose a brow as she sat herself in the seat, wiggling around as she got comfortable. “Should I be jealous?”

Her own flirty jokes made Harry relax a tiny bit more. He wasn’t the only one feeling this, and it made him feel a whole lot better to hear it from her. “No, no. She’s got nothing on you, darling.” With a wink, he closed her door and jogged around to his side and patting himself on the back for not choking at the response he just gave. 

—---

Y/N’s own body was buzzing with nerves. Sitting in this fantastic car that she knew her grandfather would absolutely lose his head over, Hozier’s ‘Abstract’ played through the radio and her hair was fluttering around as Harry drove through the streets towards the destination. The sun was warming her cheek, hand dipping up and down as she let the wind pass through her fingers. There was some chatter but mostly a silence that Y/N found to be quite comfortable. Harry wasn’t an incredibly talkative person in general but he seemed to be a lot more open when it was just the two of them. She was enjoying this, the overall energy pretty good- a bit nervous and giggly but what first date didn’t start off like that? 

“How did you even find out about this?” Y/N turned to look at him as they waited in line to park his car and let them scan the code he had open on his phone. “Like, I didn’t even know there was a drive-in so close to us. I still feel like a newbie here sometimes but.. It was really thoughtful. I never thought I’d get to see this one on a big screen since it had come out before I could have watched it.” 

“I remembered you liked that movie we were seeing when I was scrolling down instagram. It was weird, I knew there was one but I never interacted with anything about it so… The algorithm must have helped me out.” He laughed, running his thumb over his lower lip to hide his smile a little bit. “I know people normally would say a movie on a first date would be a little eh, but we know each other a little and it’s your favorite. It’s outside, too. Anything is ten times better under the stars.”

Y/N loved that. That was true, but for someone who had been so nervous to speak to her before he was sure as hell doing a good job finding all the soft pleasure spots in her brain and stroking them. Clicking off things on her mental list she didn’t know she had. “I’m glad it did. I’m excited, especially with a car like this, it’s incredible. You did a perfect job picking this out.” Truly, he had plucked a dream scenario from her romantic underbelly and brought it up to the surface. 

“Good.” He smiled, pulling up to the person scanning their tickets. It was pay per car, so it hadn’t been too spendy, but Harry was more than going to make up for it. His relief was clearly lifted off his shoulders as she expressed her approval of his choice. He’d probably fall on down the sewer if she hated it. 

Their spot was a place in the middle and towards the back. There were only about 50 spots, and they had definitely been a bit fucked with traffic but at least they werent in a corner. Cutting the car off, he took a breath before turning to her. “We’re gonna pull the top down and uh, the bench seat flattens out. So it can be easier to stretch out.” He flexed his hand around the gearshift, watching as her face brightened. “I’ve got loads of blankets in the trunk and two pillows too. M’not trying to be suggestive but it’s easier to get comfortable.” Harry wanted to make this the most memorable date- in a good way. The knowledge of the fact he knew for a fact other guys in the group fancied her and could talk to her without seeming like an ass used to make his stomach hurt, but it was such a relief to have her with him now. She was way too sweet and understanding but he adored the fact that she had particularly chosen him to go out with. Y/N wasn’t a prize, she wasn’t an object, but he felt like he was a winner for getting to spend time with her. 

“Here-” He took his wallet out and slipped one of his cards out. “Go and get whatever you want for the movie and we can get proper food after.” The cool plastic was paced into her palm, his fingers closing her own around it so she didn’t drop it. “Whatever y’want and I mean it. They’ve got those chocolate bars y’like, I saw online. Buy the whole candy case if you want. I’ll get this fixed up and meet you over there to help carry it.” 

Y/N wasn’t going to argue, her jello like knees shaking as she walked over to the retro shack. It was unreal. Harry had seemed to put a lot of thought into every step. His mention of knowing her favorite chocolate was there and that he’d remembered it even just having heard it in a very tipsy conversation she’d had with Charlotte with Harry ‘glaring’ at her across the table. Apparently, he had just been focusing on her answer and not wishing she would drop dead. Who’d have thought? 

Rocking on her feet, Y/N looked over the menu and made her mind up pretty quickly- an absolute miracle for her- as soon as she saw the selection of drinks. Usually she wasn’t a carbonated bev type of person, but when she saw you could add little flavors into them, she was more than happy to order a sprite with strawberry flavoring. She had only been a few places where they’d done so before, so she was taking it. She went with a Root Beer for Harry and another bottle of water to split, a large popcorn and a side of the cheese sauce that she lovingly called plastic cheese like her mother always had. As much as she was tempted, she chose 3 things of candy. Sour, sweet and chocolate. The array. 

Swiping his card felt a little wrong but secretly, she was happy that he had insisted. There had been many a date where the man hadn’t even offered, or who thought buying a lackluster meal meant he should have access to her body. While she didn’t need him to pay, the gesture was what she liked. Harry had been nothing but respectful once he had actually opened his mouth to talk to her. 

Placing the lids on the drinks, she had placed them on the tray but frowned slightly at the idea of walking across the field balancing them and not dropping them. Thankfully she felt a large hand on her own as the tray had been swiftly taking into his grip. The tray that had seemed ginormous in her own hands looked small in his. 

“Told you I’d come to help. You don't need to be carrying it.” 

Again, Y/N didn’t feel like arguing as she let him lead her back to the car, his lack of clumsiness making her look twice as bad. She’d stumbled three times, the uneven terrain making it a little difficult with the dents the cars had carved into spots in the lot. Thank the sky above she had let him take it. Her mind had been on that but was taken out of thought when she saw the set up. It was so cute, Y/N almost let out a coo as she watched him place the tray on the close trunk. It had been set up like a bed, three blankets overlapping each other on top. 

“Didn’t know the kind of blanket you liked so I brought a few.” 

If he got any more adorable, Y/N would lose it. 

“You did? That’s so sweet, H.” She whispered, slipping her shoes off as he opened the door to let her get in easier. There was no way she was about to mess up the thing he had put so much thought into. Her eyes went to the plushy one, lifting that one as Harry removed his boots. “I claim this one.” 

Harry added the blanket preference to his Y/N list mentally. 

“Perfect.” He nodded. “Did you want to share or do separate ones?” 

The days were perfectly warm, but since the sun had been setting the cool night had been settling over the place. It got nippy, and Y/N was selfish and curious. “Sharing is fine.” She peeped, spreading it across her lap and holding it open for him. This would bring them closer. His thigh was near hers, sitting sprawled out as he carefully balanced the tray to sit in front of them. 

This was just… good. Harry was obviously a little nervous still, but Y/N was laughing at his jokes, she had been interested in what he had to say. It wasn’t the fake half assed listening most people did. She asked detailed follow up questions and laughed at the right times, especially when their hands met when trying to grab some popcorn as the trailers before the move began. 

They were shifting closer to one another, slowly allowing it to happen until Harry suggested laying back. The popcorn setted between them, He put a second blanket on them when he noticed her shiver slightly. Y/N was trying to figure out how to ask to cuddle with him without asking outright, but it was hard. All he was doing was being respectful but she wanted to be closer to him, wanted his arm around her and the cold to disappear. It felt like everytime they brushed that she got pleasantly flushed. 

“Y’cold still?” Harry whispered, another shiver getting his attention. He didn’t need to know it was from his hand brushing the popcorn from her thigh over the blanket. 

“Yeah, I run cold” She said softly. “Can we get closer? Body heat is a bit better.” 

Harry loved it. Her innocent expression but obviously wanting to get closer, to be held by him specifically. “I’m never going to say no to having’ you close to me, sweetheart.”

His arm was lifted and she ducked underneath, his body turning slightly on his side so she could get close and lean into him, the blankets pulled to their chins and his hand falling to her arm where he began to run his fingers over. 

Y/N wanted to squeal, but she settled for a happy little wriggle disguised as getting comfortable. He was indeed much warmer than blankets, but his fingers running over her and her cheek pressed against his shoulder with his body heat leaking through his shirt made her warm right in her stomach. His touch felt so good, comforting and exciting all at the same time. So far, this had been the best date she had ever been on and it really had just begun. 

—------

Y/N was so beautiful. 

Harry had been paying far too much attention to the girl curled up against him like a little kitten. Purring as he stroked her bare skin once his fingers had gone under the blanket for her. The screen illuminated her face as she watched her movie, his lips watching her lips as she silently recited lines and giggled at the right moments. He was learning a lot just watching her reactions. The yearning on her face during the softer romantic scenes, what things got little giggles, what made her cringe. How long her eyelashes were and how her nose curved, the tiny marks on her face he had never seen. 

This was the type of date he had always wanted to have. To go out with a girl he genuinely liked, who saw more of him than met the eye, who wanted to get to know him. Someone who could make him loosen up a bit. He’d not had any goals for this besides having her enjoy herself and hopefully grow to like him more. Enough to give him a shot of dating her. It made him realize how his past in bed hadn’t made him feel a fraction of the excitement or even pleasure that this did. Simply sitting with a girl he had a massive crush on holding onto his shirt, watching her beauty in real time. There was no feeling of rush with her. As much as he was truly attracted to her, he was happy with this. Maybe a kiss or two would throw him over the moon. Just being in this scenario felt like a dream come true.

He was sure the movie was great, but the vision in front of him was far, far more interesting to him. 

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Three

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two,

A/N: Alright so this chapter covers three episodes. The FireLord and the Avatar, the Runaway and the Puppetmaster!

The gentle knock on his door alerted Iroh. He sat up from where he had been laying on the floor trying to sleep. The heavy metal door opened to reveal a Fire Nation soldier who quickly approached him.

"Ah Ming! I was getting worried." Iroh stated with a pleasant smile, as if he were greeting her for tea, and not from behind bars. The young woman, gave him a brief smile before her expression turned serious.

"The rounds have just changed, so we don't have much time." Ming whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door, as she quickly pulled out a scroll, a bottle of ink and a writing brush. She held them out towards Iroh through the bars, who took them quickly and once she had produced a small flame to provide some light, he wrote down his message.

Once done, he blew on it so that the ink would dry quickly. "I thank you for your help, my dear. It is nice to see our children carry out our mission." Iroh said, smiling at the young guard who returned the gesture with a respectful bow of her head. "My father and I are honored to be of service to such a high ranking official of the Order of the White Lotus."

The ink dried, and once he had added in the secret message that could only be revealed by flame, he rolled it up and held it out for Ming to take. "Will you be able to deliver it to my nephew?" He asked, worry gnawing at his heart as he thought of the lost young boy. Ming nodded confidentially. "My brother will be on rounds near the Prince's rooms tomorrow night. He knows of our secret work and shall ensure this reaches him."

Relief passed through him as he nodded. With a final respectful bow, the young soldier was gone, leaving Iroh to mull over what he had done.

This was his final attempt to try and help his nephew. Perhaps, he should have taken this route long ago, but he had not want to burden Zuko.

But it did not matter now. If a heavy burden meant Zuko would choose the right path, then he would have to learn to carry it.

Iroh just hoped Orora would be there to help him shoulder that burden when the time came.

                                          ————————–

Orora glanced over where Aang was mumbling in his sleep. She smiled as he rolled over before settling once more.

Where once the nights she'd stare into the fire would be a rather depressing past time, now it brought her a sense of calm. Especially since she spent the entire day trying to make sure no one tried to do seriously hurt or maim anyone.

It was a mystery how Toph hadn't crushed anyone under a rock, or Aang hadn't blasted anyone into the sky, or Katara hadn't frozen anyone, or Sokka hadn't hit anyone over the head with his boomerang with how much they all bickered. Granted it wasn't anything malicious, but when tempers were high, especially with teenagers, anything could happen.

She was the designated peacemaker within the group, a title she shared with Aang. Though while Aang used words of wisdom to calm the situation, which weren't exactly received well by the audience most of the time, Orora preferred to have them speak their mind, and try to come up with a solution that would benefit both parties.

A tantrum didn't last more then a few hours. If it was really bad, it would last a day or so, but that was the extent of it.

Still, she smiled to herself as she looked around at the sleeping figures, it was nice to have a role in the little group. It was kind of the same role she had played while traveling with Zuko and Iroh, though back then it had been exclusively for Zuko and whatever inner turmoil he faced.

Did he face any of that inner turmoil now? She mused to herself as she stared into the fire, taking comfort in the gentle warmth of it. Probably not, since he had the life he'd always wanted. Did he ever think about her? Did he ever think what had happened to her after his betrayal?

She highly doubted it, she sighed, rising to her feet and walking to where her bed roll was. Burying herself under the covers, her mind still swimming with thoughts of her Soulmate, missing the way her string briefly shone red.

Her eyes slowly slid closed.

                                          ————————–

His eyes snapped open.

Zuko's ears perked at the sound of footsteps just outside his door. Throwing off his blanket he rushed to the hall to investigate. He opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a cloaked figure disappearing around the corner. Zuko made to follow, only to stop when he caught sight of a scroll on the floor.

The curtains all along the hall blew gently in the breeze coming from the open windows as he held the scroll.

A hand closed over the fingers that held the scroll, prompting him to look up. Orora gave him a smile from where she stood across from him.

He blinked and she was gone, but her nod of encouragement was all he needed to break the seal and open the scroll to read his Uncle's message within.

                                          ————————–

Katara and Sokka were a little occupied in a squabble, which meant that Toph and Orora had to make themselves scarce so as not to be dragged into their sibling disagreement.

"The only downside of being on an island, is that you would never be able to really get away from people." Orora stated before she jumped from one hardened lava stream to another. Toph chuckled as she followed. "Yeah! I wander how did the couples who lived here take a break from one another?" She jested to which Orora grinned.

"Maybe the wife threw the husband in the volcano?" She suggested to which Toph grinned widely. "I love how your dark your mind can get. Its really refreshing." She stated in a joyful tone, to which Orora laughed. "Oh yeah? None of the others share their dark thoughts with you?" She asked, to which Toph shook her head.

"Nope! Katara and Aang are too nice to think dark thoughts." The earthbender stated, as she created a small bridge where the distance between the frozen lava rivers was a bit too big. "And Sokka is well, Sokka."

The older girl let out a bark of laughter. "No arguments there. But I guess when you've lived in isolation like the two of us have nearly our whole lives." She nudged Toph playfully. "Thinking dark thoughts tends to be a good past time."

It was strange how much she had in common with a thirteen year old. While Orora had lived a life where she was forced to live in submission of her father and brothers, Toph had lived a life where she was coddled and treated as an invalid, just because she was blind.

The context did not matter.

What mattered was that they had each led lives where they felt like they were alone in the world.

"Whats the darkest thought you have ever had?" Orora asked Toph, to which the girl shrugged. "What my life would've been like if I didn't have my bending." The girl revealed to which Orora came to a sudden halt. "My life would be even darker then it already is." Toph continued as she kicked her foot out, loose ash forming a small cloud around her as she did.

Reaching out, Orora took her head and smiled down at her, even if she couldn't see it. "Well, the Spirits blessed you with earthbending, so lets leave it at that."

Toph smiled back, the cloud that had suddenly loomed over her dissipating, as she squeezed Orora's hand. "What about you? Whats your darkest thought?"

The older girl pursed her lips, her gaze trained towards the wide open ocean as it stretched out in front of them. "That I will die alone."

Silence followed her confession, one that was finally broken by Toph. "Woah, that's even darker then mine." She said in a tone that was half-joking and yet somehow serious and worried as well. "Why do you think that?" She asked, curious to know what went on in the older girl's mind.

Orora sighed, running a hand down her face. "I don't know. I guess because now that Zuko has betrayed me, I know there is no chance of my being with him." It still hurt saying it, but she continued. "And yeah, I could find someone else, but would I be able to have what I did with Zuko?"

So saying she slumped to sit down on the ash covered ground. Toph stayed where she was, her forehead creased in a frown as she thought over what Orora had just revealed.

"I don't know Zuko as well as you or the other three do." She finally spoke, to which Orora hummed in agreement. She felt Toph shift where she stood, taking a few steps forward to stand next to her.

"But I've heard how powerful a bond can be between two Soulmates. I mean it was so powerful between Oma and Shu that they were able to learn earthbending, just so they could be together." Orora turned her head so she could look at Toph. "I mean sure, he died, but when they were alive, they always found their way back to each other, no matter how much the war forced them to stay apart."

The waterbender frowned. "What're you getting at Toph?" She asked, her curiosity peaking as Toph smiled in her direction. "I'm saying, what if Zuko finds his way back to you, just like Oma and Shu did?"

Stunned silence followed her words. Orora couldn't help but blink at Toph in surprise who was looking at her in a strangely hopeful manner. A flicker of.....something sparked in her heart, but she pushed it aside.

"I don't know Toph." She finally said with a shrug. "I doubt fate will be that kind to us." A sudden punch to her shoulder had the older girl frowning and rubbing the sore spot. Toph, who still held up her clenched fist, glared at her. "If a blind girl can find her soulmate during an all out war, then a girl who's soulmate left her once, can come back to her again."

Orora stood. "How can you be so sure?" She snapped, not wanting to get angry, but frustration did simmer just under her skin at the moment. The younger girl suddenly sobered and dropped her hand. "You've said so yourself that no matter what he did, his heart was always in the right place right?" She asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. "I suppose so." She muttered.

Reaching out, Toph laid a hand on Orora's chest, right where her heart was. "So if his heart is with you, and you're in the right place, he'll come back to you. Its as simple as that."

Orora stared at Toph, her mouth open in shock and her ice blue eyes wide. The shorter girl shook her head. "Honestly, its amazing how people who have eyes can't even see whats so obvious. I guess its a good thing I'm blind."

So saying, the girl walked off, leaving behind a still stunned Orora who was decidedly ignoring the way her string was flickering red.

                                          ————————–

Zuko's mind was racing.

He knew his Uncle was the one to send him the scroll. But why? He hadn't gained any new information from what he had read. Other then the fact that his great-grandfather had been friends with Aang's predecessor. It was strange how two people who had been the best of friends, could turn against one another.

Or rather, Sozin had turned his back on Roku.

That part was what haunted him the most?.

Was it something that ran in the family? Betraying the people you called friends. He had done the same to Orora what Sozin had done to Roku.

Was that the point his Uncle had been trying to make?

No! He had said he needed to know about the death of his great-grandfather, yet Sozin had been alive in the end. His death had revealed nothing.

Frustration clawed at him from the inside as he marched into the prison tower and towards his Uncle's cell.

He just hoped the man would speak to him.

Slamming the door behind him as he entered, he held out the scroll that had the message on it. "You sent this, didn't you? I found the secret history, which by the way should be renamed history most people already know!" He yelled, allowing his frustration to seep into his words. "The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end."

Iroh looked up at Zuko, and for a moment he thought he wouldn't speak.

"No. He wasn't." Though the relief at hearing his Uncle finally speak to him warmed his heart, he pushed it aside in favor of the confusion that clouded his mind.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, as Iroh finally met his eye, and for once Zuko didn't feel the shame and guilt that burdened him since Ba Sing Se.

"You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko." Iroh revealed. "Sozin was your father's grandfather." He paused, preparing Zuko before he revealed the truth and reason behind all the conflict he felt all the time.

And really the next few words changed Zuko's outlook on life forever.

"Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku."

Shock raced through his veins, prompting him to drop the scroll he had been holding. His eyes widened, and his heart beat wildly against his chest. His knees felt weak, and yet it was a testament that he did not immediately drop down to the floor.

"Why are you telling me this?" He whispered hoarsely, his mind exploding with questions, each one burning at the tip of his tongue and yet he could voice none of them.

"Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself." Finally, his legs gave way. Zuko dropped to the floor, his head hanging as every moment of confusion and conflict he had ever experienced his entire life rose to the forefront of his mind.

Everything.

Everything he had done, every decision he had ever made and everything that happened to him. It all came back to his family.

His father had banished him after burning him, making him the bitter person he had been for nearly three years.

His mother had left him, influencing him into accepting that he could never trust anyone with his heart.

His sister always lied, pushing him into believing that no one would help him and that he had to help himself.

And now, his great-grandfathers.

Sozin's ideas about sharing the wealth and prosperity of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world had blinded him to all the horrible atrocities the Fire Nation had committed over the past Hundred Years.

Roku's hesitancy on taking out his former best friend was what had led to the war in the first place. If he had thought of the world, rather then the relationship he had had with Sozin, maybe the war would never have started in the first place.

"Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko." His Uncle continued to speak, his words echoing against the cold stone walls of the prison. "It is your nature, your legacy."

Was this it?

Was he meant to feel utter anguish and turmoil for the rest of his life? Was he to know the difference between right and wrong but never be able to act upon it?

He had acted upon it once before, and had suffered the consequences.

Not because he was the Prince of the Fire Nation.

But because he was the son of Ozai.

"But, there is a bright side." His Uncle's voice prompted him to look back up, scarcely allowing an ember of hope to burn in his chest.

"What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you." Iroh stated, his voice firm and stern. The time for gentleness was long past. It was time to show his nephew the utter reality and truth of the situation if he were to do something good for the world and save himself.

"Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world." Iroh was aware how Avatar Aang was meant to do just that, but he had known, long ago, that the young airbender would not be able to do all of that alone. He had to see to the entire world, not just one Nation.

Restoring the honor of the Fire Nation would be up to Zuko and no one else.

He stood, moving to the wall at his side. Iroh pulled out a loose brick and reached for the object within that was wrapped in a frayed, dirty cloth. He removed it to reveal a headdress as he walked towards Zuko and held it out for him.

"This is a royal artifact. It is supposed to be worn by the Crown Prince." Zuko stood in awe of the artifact thought to be lost long ago. The headdress gleamed in the moonlight. "Sozin gave it to Roku as a token of their friendship long ago, but it became tainted, when Sozin betrayed Roku."

Zuko blinked, before closing his eyes and reaching into the pocket of his shirt and pulling out the comb he always carried with him these days to feel her close. Iroh's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar comb.

"I suppose these two share a history of betrayal don't they?" His nephew said, his voice hoarse and heavy with emotion as the two hairpieces were held aloft side by side.

Iroh's heart softened, and he knew Zuko regretted the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se. Perhaps, because of the bond he shared with Orora, it would push him to make the right decision. Placing the crown atop the comb, and closing Zuko's fingers around it, Iroh gave him a look of understanding.

"Then, it is up to you to make it right."

The small room glowed with a sudden blue hue that had been dim for most of the time. However, in that moment it glowed so brightly that if anyone else other then Zuko saw, they would believe the Moon Spirit herself had descended upon them.

However, it was only the string that connected him with his soulmate.

Glowing bright and blue as he finally, finally, realized the true extent of his feelings for Orora.

                                          ————————–

"You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?" Katara's astonished voice cut the tense atmosphere once Aang had revealed what Roku had shown him.

Orora stood to the side, frowning. "All those years of friendship." She said in a low voice. "He just threw it away because he wanted to realize his own ambitions." Why did that sound so familiar? And yet, this was not the time to think about him, the young waterbender scolded herself, focusing instead on what Toph was saying.

"It's like some people are born bad." She said, sounding confused and sad at the same time. Aang stepped up, shaking his head as he did. "No, that's wrong." He insisted, walking so he could stand with his back to them to look out at the ocean. "I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all." His voice sounded so hopeful and optimistic.

Sokka shrugged, ever the pessimist of the group cut in. "Then what was the point?" He asked, to which Aang turned back to look at them. He smiled at each one of them in turn before speaking.

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil." His grey eyes landed on Orora at that part, and she felt herself stand up straight, knowing he was thinking of Zuko the same way she was. She chewed on her lower lip, slowly looking away from Aang, who continued with a small smile of understanding.

"Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance." Aang concluded with that ever-present hopeful note in his voice.

"And I also think it was about friendships." He added with a grin. That last part did warm Orora's heart a little bit, prompting her to smile at Katara when the other girl looked at her.

"Do you really think," Toph began, sounding unsure and hesitant as she did. "Friendships can last more than one lifetime?" She asked, and Orora had to stop herself from reaching out and hugging the younger girl.

Aang reached out to take Toph's hand. "I don't see why not." He said as Katara took Toph's other hand as well. Reaching out, Orora placed a gentle hand on Toph's shoulder. "Friends are the family we choose for ourselves Toph." She said before she moved to take Aang's free hand as he held it out for her with a smile. "And I don't know about you, but I don't plan on letting go of any of you in this life or any other."

Aang, Katara and Toph both smiled at her. Sokka, however, had something else to add.

"Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that-" He began, only to have his sister shoot him an annoyed look. "Oh, Sokka, just hold hands." She said, holding her hand out towards him. Without missing a beat, his hand grasped hers.

Orora gave a soft laugh as Aang turned towards her to wink playfully. And as they stood there, greeting the new day with a more hopeful outlook on everything, Orora closed her eyes and inhaled.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel someone taking her other hand.

One that she was all too familiar with.

Considering she had held that hand many many times during her time with him.

For a moment her string glowed a warm red hue.

                                          ————————–

"People are starting to talk."

Zuko looked up from where he had been going over some new firebending forms he was mastering. Mai stood leaning against the doorway, a half smile playing about her lips.

"About what?" He asked, as she walked into the room, coming to sit opposite him. "That we're dating. Something about going out and walking into the same flower shop twice."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Its just people gossiping nothing more. And its keeping Azula off both our backs, so I welcome it." He added, recalling how delighted his sister had seemed to be when she had spoken to him about it earlier that day. Mai hummed in agreement.

"True, my parents have also backed off." She pulled out a small knife from her sleeve, flicking it in the air and expertly catching it by the handle. "They were starting to look for marriage proposals for me, so dating you seems to be benefiting me as well."

Zuko followed her movement, his mind conjuring a sharp icicle rather then a knife as it twirled in the air. He had seen Orora do that very same move multiple times. Sometimes to practice, but most times out of sheer boredom.

"Have you been meeting with Kei Lo?" He asked, not wanting his thoughts to wander to Orora. Mostly because even the mere thought of her had his string glowing.

Zuko had met Mai's soulmate the first time he had gone to the flower shop. She had introduced him and Zuko had to admit, the boy seemed perfect for Mai. She needed someone to bring out the more softer and fun side of her, and Kei Lo was the right person to do it. Even the mere mention of him had a smile playing across Mai's lips as she nodded. "Yes, I met him just yesterday. My mother is starting to think I have taken an interest in flower arrangements, and my aunt is happy to keep my secret." She admitted.

Zuko smiled back, reaching out to gently pat her hand. "I'm glad you found him Mai." He said, his voice genuine. The girl nodded.

"What about you? Are you still seeing Orora?" The moment she spoke her name, his string began to glow blue. He ignored it in favor of responding to her question.

"Yeah, sometimes, every now and then." He admitted. Her appearances, where they had been quite frequent before, were now sporadic, not to mention she barely spoke in any of them.

He would never admit it out loud, but it was starting to scare him a little, how she was barely there whenever he would think of her.

As if he were forgetting what she looked like.

"Maybe you should go and find her?" Her suggestion had him staring at her wide eyed and dumbfounded. Mai only lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Obviously you miss her, so what harm could there be in going to look for her?" She made the suggestion so carelessly, as if she were commenting on the weather or something.

Zuko frowned. "I can't exactly go out and find her. For one I would need a legitimate reason to leave the Palace." He stood up, walking towards the window and looking out towards the setting sun. "Besides, I doubt she would want to see me after what I did to her." Behind him, Mai pursed her lips, nodding in agreement.

"True, but have you thought that maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her?" She stood, slowly coming to stand behind him, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trust me Zuko, it's never the right thing to run away or stay purposely away from your soulmate. It doesn't really work."

With that, she turned around and left Zuko to his thoughts.

It was strange. He had been so focused on how his betrayal had effected her, that it had never occurred to him that she would be missing him, just as much as he missed her.

Or perhaps more, he thought to himself, as his string glowed blue.

                                          ————————–

When she had left home, Orora had known she would have to leave several luxuries behind. One of them being shopping.

If there was one thing Orora loved more then anything it was shopping. In Ba Sing Se, she had always been the one to go out and buy whatever they needed. Iroh had been a little surprised at her enthusiasm, but he had not commented on it.

Traveling across the Fire Nation with Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph meant that they rarely went shopping, if ever. What money they had, they needed for supplies, and many a time Orora had to walk away from a shiny trinket that would catch her eye. All because she didn't have money.

But now?

They had sacks of it.

Her, Sokka, Toph and Aang all but cackled as they exited the town, their arms laden with several purchases, as well as sacks of silver and gold. "Spirits! Why didn't we think of doing this earlier?" The older girl said, smiling from ear to ear as she eyed the meat they had been able to buy. They would be eating really good that night.

"Don't think of the Why Orora." Sokka said, happily carrying his share of shopping. "Think of the What," He trailed off as the other three looked at him, prompting him to continue. "As in, What are we going to spend all this money on?"

Another round of laughter followed his words as they finally reached their little camp, where they dumped their purchases in front of Katara who was cooking.

"Where did you guys get the money to buy all this stuff?" She asked, looking curiously into the baskets. Aang, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets, took a bit out of it and sat down. "Toph got us money." He said as a way of explanation. "She scammed one of those guys in town who moves the shells around all sneaky-like."

Orora grabbed an apple herself. "You should've seen the looks on their faces Katara. Hilarious." She praised as she passed by Sokka and gave him a high-five, before throwing the apple at Appa who caught it in his mouth with a happy groan.

Sokka nodded as he sat down. "She used earthbending to win the game! Classic!" He shot the bling girl a thumbs up, even as his sister adopted a disapproving look. "Ah, so she cheated."

Toph, who had been about to bite into her own apple, stopped. "Hey! I only cheated because he was cheating!" She grinned. "I cheated a cheater. What's wrong with that?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm just saying this isn't something we should make a habit of doing." She reprimanded as Orora dug into their purchase to grab something, only to extract Momo by the tail who had sneaked in when no one had been looking.

Toph scoffed. "Why?" As Orora took the many apples Momo had been trying to sneak off with, leaving the annoyed animal with just one. "Because it's fun? And you hate fun?"

The girl huffed. "I don't hate fun!" Catching Momo as he sulked away, she placed him on her head. "See? Fun!" An awkward silence followed as Momo slipped off her head, screeched at her before running away.

Aang, not wanting to see Katara worry about something so mediocre stood up and lifted his headband to reveal the tattoo below. "Katara." He spoke solemnly, bowing. "I'll personally make you an Avatar Promise that we won't make a habit of doing these scams."

Katara smiled in satisfaction before turning her attention to Orora. The older girl blinked back. "What?" Katara gave her a look, one that had Orora pursing her lips before finally letting out an exaggerated groan.

"Alright! Alright! I'll make sure they don't get too carried away." She promised halfheartedly before pulling out another apple and offering it to Katara as a peace offering.

Of course all their promises meant nothing to any of them.

The very next day, after a successful round of scamming, Orora was happily wandering the streets of the town to see what she could buy. Sokka, Toph and Aang were carrying out another scam, but Orora had wanted to shop.

Pocketing the winnings from the scam she had pulled with the younger girl, she walked around in search of a good clothing shop. With the Invasion drawing near, she wanted to make something for herself. She had no desire to defeat the Fire Nation wearing their colors.

Besides, she missed wearing blue.

Though her chances were slim, maybe she would be able to find something?

She passed through the center of the town, and the sight that greeted her, had her coming to an abrupt halt.

There in the middle of the town stood a tall statue of the current Fire Lord. Orora stood there, staring up at him. Pure hatred raged in her heart as she looked at the likeness. This was the man who had burned Zuko. Who had stood over a young boy, a boy trying to do good, and mercilessly burned half his face off.

"Hey Orora!" Aang's voice barely registered in her mind as she stood where she was. The young Avatar raced to her side, his own gaze lifting towards the all too daunting presence of the statue.

"Its strange to finally put a face to the name, isn't it?" Aang said as he stood beside her. Not breaking her stare, she spoke to him. 'How do you mean?"

Aang shrugged. "Well we've all heard about Fire Lord Ozai for months, and I had no idea what he looked like till I went to school." She nodded. "Yeah, but now we have someone to picture when we talk of him." A brief pause before Aang spoke again. "He was the one who gave Zuko the scar right?" She had told them briefly about how Zuko had gotten the scar, but hadn't gone into the details. His words prompted her to tense up, her hands clenching in fists at her sides as she gritted her teeth. Anger ran through her veins as she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Aang followed after her.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" The worry in his tone was what prompted her to finally halt and turn to him with a reassuring look. "You didn't Aang. I'm just angry at him for what he did to Zuko." Her gaze flickered to her string. "Which is strange because why should I be angry about what happened to him after what he did to me?" Aang's features morphed to an understanding yet sympathetic look as he took the older girl's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"Maybe because your feelings for him go a little more deeper then you realized." His statement had her frowning slightly, before she sighed and shook her head. "Well whatever the reason, I don't have time to think of him right now."

Forcing her thoughts to steer away from Zuko she instead smiled at Aang. "Come on! Help me find a fabric shop! I need to buy something!" Since they were still holding hands, she quickly led him away down the street in search of the aforementioned shop.

Leaving behind the statue of the man she hated.

Pushing aside the fact that her string had glowed red the entire time she had spoken with Aang, only disappearing when she finally entered the shop and began to browse the fabric, looking for the color she needed.

                                          ————————–

He had no idea what he was preparing for. During his training, he worked ten times harder. Be it perfecting his firebending forms, or practicing with his swords. His appetite had returned since he came back from Ember Island, resulting in him having more energy then he previously had.

While he did focus on the political part of his studies, he was no more interested in all the colonies the Fire Nation had created over the past hundred years. Not to mention the devastation caused.

The librarian had been a little surprised when Zuko had asked for those specific records, but everything was given to him because he was the Prince after all.

Everything the Fire Nation had done.

Every act of violence.

The number of people they had killed, not counting the entire Nation they had wiped out.

The resources that were being sent to the armies rather then being used by the general public.

The many many machines of war that had been created to support their so called cause.

The taxes imposed on the people to pay for the war.

The law stating every member of the family were to send two children to the front of the lines.

Nothing in all his findings told him anything about the Fire Nation actually contributing to the betterment of the world.

All they had done was take and leave nothing behind.

He remembered the time he had spent in the Earth Kingdom. All those people he had met on his journey. How in one way or another, every single one of them were effected by the Fire Nation.

The thousands of families displaced by the war.

The hundreds of families leaving behind their homes because it was no longer safe.

The children who had been orphaned.

The parents who had lost their children.

Soulmates who had lost their other half.

Uncle had lost his son.

Lu Ten had lost his life.

Aang lost his entire people.

Katara and Sokka lost their mother.

Song was scarred just like he was.

Lee had lost his brother.

Orora had almost been killed.

And so many countless others.

And all of them, had one thing in common.

They all hated the Fire Nation. No one respected them. They all feared and hated him and his people.

He hadn't helped in that belief by chasing Aang and his friends around the world. And then he had gone and betrayed Orora. Then he had sent that assassin after them.

Maybe Mai was right.

Maybe he did need to go out and find her. Tell her that he was beginning to think that the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se was the wrong one.

But how could he leave?

He couldn't just up and go, that would raise suspicion, and his father might send someone after him.

As he lay there with his hand held aloft so he could look at his glowing string, Zuko came to a decision.

The first chance he got, he would leave everything, find Orora, and join the people working against the Fire Nation to put a stop to it's tyrannical rule.

Once and for all.

                                          ————————–

Their escape from the newly named Combustion Man was a close call.

Too close.

In fact, it had put all of them on edge, and they'd taken to flying as far away from that town as possible.

In hindsight, maybe she should've discouraged them from telling scary stories as a way to unwind after their most stressful encounter yet. Orora had to admit, the place they had decided to make camp was spookier then any place they had spent the night at. Or maybe it was just her imagination, she mused to herself as they all sat around the fire.

"Water Tribe slumber parties must stink." Toph stated when one of Sokka's scary stories was not well-received. "I've never been to one, so I can't be the judge of that." The older girl put in her two thoughts, adding another dried stick to the fire the burned between them.

"No, wait! I've got one!" Katara spoke up from where she sat. "And this is a true Southern Water Tribe story."

Sokka rolled his eyes, not believing his sister. "Is this one of those 'a friend of my cousin knew some guy that this happened to' stories?" He said in a sarcastic tone, to which Katara shook her head.

"No, it happened to Mom." Upon hearing that, Sokka stiffened and everyone stopped moving as they sat in utter stillness, waiting for Katara to begin her story.

"One winter when Mom was a girl," She began, her voice low and soft. "A snowstorm buried the whole village for weeks. A month later, Mom noticed she hadn't seen her friend Nini since the storm. So Mom and some others went to check on Nini's family. When they got there, no one was home." A shiver ran down Orora's spine, her arms came to wrap around her legs as she hugged herself, eyes wide as she stared at Katara.

"Just a fire flickering in the fireplace. While the men went out to search, Mom stayed in the house. When she was alone, she heard a voice. 'It's so cold and I can't get warm!'" Sokka stiffened with fear, and even Toph gulped nervously where she sat. "Mom turned and saw Nini standing by the fire. She was blue like she was frozen. Mom ran outside for help, but when everyone came back, Nini was gone."

Aang used Momo's ears to cover his face in fear, while Orora quickly shifted to sit beside Toph, who didn't hesitate in grabbing her hand as they huddled together. Sokka, who had taken to hiding behind a gnarled tree stump peaked out. "Where'd she go?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Katara shook her head. "No one knows. Nini's house stands empty to this day, but sometimes, people see smoke coming up from the chimney, like little Nini is still trying to get warm." Orora glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected Nini to be standing right there behind her.

Suddenly Toph straightened up, placing her hand on the ground. "Wait! Guys, did you hear that?" Her movement was so sudden that Orora let out a broken shriek, while Aang, Katara and Sokka clutched at one another, staring around in fear.

"I hear people under the mountain. And they're screaming." Orora blinked. "Wh-what?" She gulped, ice blue eyes wide in fear as she stared around their small camp. Sokka, assuming Toph was just joking relaxed his grip around his sister and scoffed.

"Pfft! Nice try." Toph shook her head, her hand still pressed to the ground. "No, I'm serious. I hear something." She insisted, as Orora shifted to quickly sit beside Aang who was still hugging Katara. "Toph, cut it out. You're scaring everyone." She insisted, though even her voice sounded small and meek to her own ears.

A horde of physical enemies she could face any day, but spooky stories? That was a weakness her brothers had exploited when she had been younger.

"You're probably just jumpy from the ghost stories." Katara insisted, glancing at Aang and Orora in worry, who were both huddled together.

Toph frowned. "It just ... stopped." Aang gulped, clutching on to both Katara and Orora. "All right, now I'm getting scared."

Suddenly a voice called out through the darkness, soft and gentle. "Hello, children."

The camp rang loudly with the screams of said children as they scrambled around trying to find a place to hide. But then they all stopped when they saw what, or rather who had emerged from the shadows.

An elderly woman.

An elderly woman who turned out to be a Southern Water Tribe waterbender named Hama. Who told them all about what had happened during the Fire Nation raids, and how she had escaped them before hiding here.

It was all sad and heartbreaking, and yet, perhaps it was the scary stories still floating around in her mind, or perhaps it was her older sister instinct, or the fact that they were being hunted.

But somehow, Orora didn't trust Hama.

All because the old woman seemed to watch Katara's every move with a greedy, almost hungry, look on her face when she didn't think anyone was looking.

But Orora was.

Orora was always looking.

Always looking out for her family.

Which was why the night Hama told everyone what had happened to her, Orora pulled Sokka away from the rest of the dinner party to speak with him.

"Aww come on Orora! I was just going in for seconds!' He whined as she shut the door behind them and stepped outside in the night. She gave him a look that had him frowning. "Whats up?"

No sooner had he voiced his question before she spoke, making sure she kept her voice down. "Its just...." She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes looking around nervously. "I don't know something about this place and Hama makes me feel uneasy." She revealed to which Sokka nodded. "Well the stories of people disappearing certainly doesn't help." He added, to which Orora simply nodded.

Reaching out he gave her a comforting pat on the back. "Look, we're just gonna solve this mystery, then be on our way. Don't worry, we'll all be on our guard. And remember what Aang said, not everyone we run into is bad or out to get us." When she gave him an unconvincing look he sighed.

"Look, I get you would be nervous when it comes to trusting people, but you have all of us watching your back and each other's, so really there's no need to worry." And though Sokka's words did bring her some comfort, Orora still remained alert, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Of course, that amounted to nothing when the very next morning, Hama asked to see her under the pretense of having her get something from the market, only to knock her out from behind and drag her away into the forest.

Orora woke just as Hama was tying her wrists and feet to keep her from running away. Still groggy from the hit to the back of her head, which was still hurting, Orora was barely aware of where she was as she watched the old crone go about securing her.

"You know, when the first raid happened, we sent a message to our sister Nation, begging for help. To send reinforcements." Hama spoke once she was satisfied with her bonds. A filthy rag was wrapped around her mouth to keep her from screaming. Despite the pain, the young waterbender was able to glare fiercely at Hama, anger burning in her ice blue eyes.

"Of course being so far away, they couldn't send help in time. But my brothers and sisters did hold out during our first few months in our cells. Thinking that perhaps our Northern brothers and sisters would come to rescue us." She turned her hateful gaze towards the young girl, who glared right back.

"However, with every full moon that passed, we realized that no help was coming. And whatever hope we had of escaping slowly died. And though I realize you are not directly responsible for your forefathers actions." The old crone leaned down right in Orora's face as she smiled coldly at her. "Holding you accountable is the next best thing."

Orora felt herself grow cold, her mind racing with all the possibilities that Hama would carry out on her out of the anger and hatred that had festered in her for so long.

Running her long bony fingers through the white patch of her hair in a condescending manner, Hama hummed as she smiled. "Now, why don't you wait here while I have a one-on-one lesson with your friend Katara."

Her fear for Katara triumphed her own own fear. She tried her best struggling and thrashing to get away, but Hama was strong, stronger then she looked. Pulling on the rope, she was able to tie Orora to a tree, tight and secure her there.

"I'll be back for you." She promised, before walking off, leaving the girl to struggle and call out into the wind, her voice muffled and barely audible.

The entire day she pulled and thrashed, trying to free herself. Her wrists began to ache and she knew she had split the skin from where the ropes burned against her. Even her ankles burned, and her throat ached from screaming.

All that for nothing.

Finally, during mid afternoon, she gave up. Her head hung to the side as she began to doze off, the occurrences of the day getting to her. Tears of frustration burned her eyes at every waking interval, as she cursed her own stupidity, and for not listening to her instincts.

She was worried.

Worried for her friends. But especially for Katara.

What would Hama do to her?

All day long, the questions and scenarios plagued her mind. Slowly, the sun set and the sounds of the night roused her from her half-asleep stupor. The bright light from the moon shone down on her, prompting her to inhale deeply, taking in the strength it provided her with. Her tired body gained a little strength, though the back of her head still stung from where she had been hit.

Suddenly, she heard voices.

Her ears pricked up and she focused on the voices that approached her.

Hama and Katara.

Instantly she began to squirm and pull at her restraints. She could feel the dried blood on her wrists split as fresh blood oozed out.

"And to make sure, you learn what I have to teach you, I brought a little incentive."

Suddenly Hama appeared in her view, making her recoil in fright. The old woman worked quickly, untying her from the tree and pulling her towards the clearing where Katara was standing.

"Orora!" Katara's shocked voice cut through the night, echoing the clearing as the older girl lay battered and bruised at the old woman's feet. "What have you done to her? Let her go!" She demanded, stepping forward, to which Hama held up a placating hand.

"What I'm about to show you." Hama began, glaring down at Orora in a menacing manner before turning her attention back to Katara. "I discovered in that wretched Fire Nation prison."

Orora only caught snippets of the story, trying hard not to pass out from the pain that radiated from her head. It was so difficult to focus when all she could pay attention to was the stricken look on Katara's face. But she did manage to catch the important parts of the story.

Hama had created a new sub-form of waterbending.

One that allowed her to control the water within any living creature.

Bloodbending, she called it.

"Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything or anyone." Hama continued, her gaze dropping to Orora who tried her best to glare back at her.

Katara shook her head. "But..... to reach inside someone and control them? I don't know if I want that kind of power." She said, casting a worried look in Orora's direction.

Hama shook her head. "The choice is not yours. The power exists. And it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war." she urged, before appealing to Katara's kind nature. "Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother!"

Katara closed her eyes, thinking of her mother. "I know." She whispered.

"And our sister Tribe did nothing to help." Hama added, glaring down at Orora. "You should understand what I'm talking about! We're the last two waterbenders of the Southern Tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary!" She concluded, that scary, desperate and mad gleam coming to her eyes once more.

Katara's eyes widened in shock. "It's you! You're the one who's been making people disappear during the full moons!" Her gaze flickered to Orora. "Let Orora go! Now!"

In response, Hama simply growled. "They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters! And her people did nothing to help! They all deserve the same! You must carry on my work!"

The younger waterbender shook her head, pointing at Hama. "I won't!" Pride swelled in Orora as she watched her friend stand up for what was right. "I won't use bloodbending and I won't allow you to keep terrorizing this town!"

Suddenly Orora felt her entire body freeze up. A horrified gasp was muffled by the cloth around her mouth as she felt her entire body lift from the ground, the bonds fell from around her wrists and ankles as her arms and legs contorting in unnatural angles, her head falling to the side.

Her eyes widened in horror, as she tried, but failed, to move her limbs.

"You should've learned the technique before you turned against me!" Hama's voice came, snapping her out of her terrified state. Her eyes were all that she could control as they darted around, trying to see what was going on, and to escape. "It's impossible to fight your way out of my grip! I control every muscle, every vein in your body!"

With swift motions of her hands and arms, Hama used bloodbending to bring them both side by side before beginning to throw them around. The first swing had Orora crashing through branches, the sharp edges scratching her skin as she went. Somehow, her rag loosened from around her mouth, allowing her cries of pain to echo all around her.

Hama slammed her onto the ground, making her hit her head. She paused briefly with Katara, as turned her attention on Orora instead. "I'll deal with you later." She hissed, before throwing the girl to the side. Her helpless body slammed against a tree trunk, which shuddered from the impact.

The hit was enough for her to drop to the floor and for her vision to go black.

Orora's ears rang with the sound of Katara pleading and crying for Hama to stop, before everything went black.

She roused to someone shaking her shoulder.

Ice blue eyes snapped open. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she sat up, arms held aloft and at the ready to defend herself. Only to be greeted by the sight of Sokka leaning over her with a worried look. He'd barely opened his mouth to say something when something or rather someone over his eye caught her attention.

Katara.

Sobbing hysterically as Aang held her.

Her entire body screamed with pain, and yet she pushed past Sokka, barely noticing the various cuts and bruises her whole body supported. Aang pulled back a little from his embrace, looking at Orora in a helpless manner. The older girl wasted no time.

She wrapped her arms around the younger girl in a fierce and protective embrace, holding her close. Katara, realizing who was holding her, began to cry anew, burying her face in Orora's chest, her entire body shaking with each sob that wrecked through her. Orora could feel her own emotions welling to the surface, prompting tears to silently cascade down her cheeks as she held and did her best to comfort her sister.

It took awhile for them both to calm down, but once they were, they didn't waste any time climbing atop Appa and flying away into the night.

Katara sat next to her brother, leaning against him for support. Aang sat on Appa's head, though every now and then he would glance back at his soulmate in worry. Toph sat next to Orora who had Momo in her lap. "You should heal yourself." Toph spoke softly, reaching out to place her water satchel in her hands. The girl gave a nod, pulling out the water and healing the injury to the back of her head, the open wounds on her wrists and around her ankles, as well as the various cuts that littered her any skin that wasn't covered in fabric.

It was a little slow work, since her limbs felt stiff. Not to mention her whole body ached. From being thrown against a tree or because Hama controlled her entire body. She didn't know. It was a truly terrifying experience. Not being able to control her actions and being at the mercy of a mad woman.

Once done, she threw the water to the side since it was mixed with blood and dirt.

Her mind was still heavy with all that she had endured, but nothing could compare to what Katara was feeling. She pursed her lips as she stared worriedly at the younger girl. Her gaze met Sokka's who shared in her worry.

Walking on her knees, she was able to catch Aang's attention, who came to sit on Katara's other side. Guiding Toph to sit beside her, with Aang on her right side, Orora reached out and took Katara's hands.

"I think we've shared enough scary stories." Everyone, minus Katara, gave weak smiles at her attempt to make a joke. "We could all do with something a little more brighter and happier." Katara raised her red-rimmed eyes at her, her usually bright blue eyes looking so dull and hopeless that it broke her own heart. "So I'm going to recite this poem I love, about two soulmates, and the love they had for one another. Sound good?"

When no objection came, she nodded. Closing her eyes briefly, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

Her voice was soft and gentle, the words hopeful and full of love. So unlike everything they had faced in the past few days. Maybe it was the poem or maybe it was the fact that they were all together, and they were safe.

Whatever it was, it helped.

And slowly, gradually, eventually, the darkness around them began to lift.

                                          ————————–

He was dreaming.

It had been a long while since he had dreamed.

Or rather dreamed of her.

And yet, there she was, standing there with his back to him, staring out at the open ocean that gleamed under the light of the full moon.

He slowly walked up to her, unable to hesitate or even think it through. Why? Because he wanted to be near her. He wanted to see her face. In that moment nothing else mattered. Not the beautiful scenery or that this was all in his head.

He just missed her so much.

Once he reached her, he was surprised to see that she was crying. Her eyes were closed, and tears were sliding down her cheeks, every tear gleaming like a diamond against her beautiful skin.

Where he had been unable to approach her when she had appeared to him crying once before, this time Zuko didn't even think about what he had to do.

He reached up, cupping her face, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him.

Sorrowful blue met gentle warm amber.

His thumb wiped at a tear that escaped her gorgeous eyes. Call it wishful thinking, but maybe she leaned into his touch a little, as if drawing comfort from him. His head leaned down, pressing their forehead together, their noses brushing.

This was all a dream. Zuko knew that.

So then why did it all feel so real?

"I'll come back to you." He whispered, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him, the surprise clear across her features. "I promise." So saying, he shifted so his lips could press against the middle of her forehead in a tender kiss. Orora closed her eyes again, relishing in his presence, one that she had so sorely missed and yet had never admitted to herself that she did.

He pulled back, but only to hold up the finger that had his string tied around it. Of course, if was glowing a bright blue. Orora's eyes widened, and he knew she saw the color. Slowly, she lifted her own finger, showing the red hue that gleamed there, warm and bright. Zuko couldn't help the breathless laugh of happiness that escaped his lips. The sound prompted a smile to form on Orora's lips as she allowed their fingers to intertwine, allowing whatever length was left between their strings to completely disappear. Their gazes met.

"I'll be waiting."

                                          ————————–

When she awoke, there was a warmth on her forehead where Zuko had kissed her. Her string glowed a bright red through the day.

                                          ————————–

When he awoke, there was a warmth in his heart and a lightness to his soul. His string glowed a bright blue throughout the day.

                                          ————————–

And it scared her.

                                          ————————–

And it gave him strength.

                                           ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #9: Matters of the Heart

Prompt: lend an ear || Master Post || On AO3 (coming in October)

---

A soft knock on the door jolted Dulia-Chai back into full awareness and she jerked her head up, decades of practice and composure the only thing that kept her from knocking her ink bottle over.

“Dulia-Chai? Do you have a moment?”

The door to her office was open, and she could see a familiar head of soft red hair just over the accounting books stacked in haphazard piles all over her desk. Dulia-Chai beamed. “Of course, Ryne! Come in, come in, have a seat on the settee.”

The door opened wider so Ryne could slip inside fully, and while she did so, Dulia-Chai quickly checked over her current work. Eulmore’s finances had, well, gone to utter shite long before Vauthry’s rule, or even that of his father, and she and the other municipal accountants were having a devil of a time straightening out the records. She had reached a good stopping point, however, and she had been at this for most of the morning already. Ryne had chosen an excellent time to visit.

Dulia-Chai made sure the blue ink of her own notations was dry, closed the book, and pushed away from her desk to stand. She took a moment to stretch out her poor back before she bustled towards the settee.

Ryne was fretting with her hair ribbon, head ducked low, and Dulia-Chai eyed her thoughtfully.

Tea, she decided. They definitely needed tea.

Her Nuzz had installed a small stove for her here in her office, to make it easier to brew tea or even coffee on the days when the finances proved most troublesome. It took only a moment to fill the kettle from the water pitcher one of the pages always made certain was refreshed throughout the day, set it on the stove to heat, and began laying out a tea tray from the cupboard and cold box. Bowl of sugar, small jug of cream, two cups, and of course: a tin of coffee biscuits.

Once the kettle was off the stove and the leaves steeping, Dulia-Chai brought the tray over to the settee, placing it on the low table, and perched on the settee next to Ryne. She poured a cup, added two sugar cubes and a dash of cream, and passed the cup to Ryne, who took it automatically and raised the cup from the saucer to gently blow at the hot liquid before sipping carefully. Dulia-Chai made her own cup—no sugar, healthy glug of cream—and wedged a biscuit onto the saucer before finally settling back.

The drank and nibbled in mostly comfortable silence for a few minutes. While Ryne’s nerves had calmed, she still seemed disinclined to proffer what had brought her here today. Well, then!

“How may I help you today, Ryne?” Dulia-Chai said gently.

Ryne sighed quietly, stuffed the remaining half of her own coffee biscuit into her mouth to keep from answering for a few more moments as she set down her teacup. She chewed, swallowed, and finally said, shy as a lamb: “Were you ever scared your relationship with Chai-Nuzz wouldn’t work out?”

Ahhhh, there it was. Dulia-Chai finished draining her own tea as she best thought how to answer, before deciding the most straightforward way was best, as always. “Certainly!” she said. “We were both young, and the young aren’t always so wise, and it’s common for people of all ages to realize they aren’t a good fit for one another. But here’s the thing: relationships take work.”

Ryne finally looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time today, puzzlement clear on her features.

Dulia-Chai nodded. “It’s something that gets left out of the romances, something even we adults often forget to pass along, because it isn’t glamorous. I adored my Nuzz from the first, but adoration does not make for stability. Of course, I had to convince Chai-Nuzz of my adoration first…”

She took a moment to grumble as Ryne giggled. Stubborn, ridiculous man and his low self-esteem! Even today it was still a struggle.

“How do you do it? Making it work?” Ryne said.

“Talking,” Dulia-Chai said with a firm nod. “If you’re upset, say so, and why. If you don’t know why, say that, too! Sometimes we just feel poorly for no good reason, and it’s important to communicate that so that no one feels as if they’ve done something wrong. If you’d like to do something together, ask. It sounds very simple, but often people expect their loved ones to just know, and that is neither fair to yourself or to them! Though, it’s not impossible to become well attuned to your loved one after long years together; my Nuzz always knows when I need a biscuit or when I need to take a walk if I’m grumpy, but he didn’t know that when we first courted.”

Ryne nodded slowly, nibbling at her lower lip as she absorbed Dulia-Chai’s words. “And…what about just wanting to be alone for a bit?”

“Oh, my dear Ryne, that is perfectly normal, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise,” Dulia-Chai said. “You are your own person, as Gaia is her own person, as I’m my own, as Chai-Nuzz is his. We all have different needs and desires; sometimes that means we want to spend our time with our beloveds, sometimes with friends, sometimes by ourselves.”

Ryne seemed to sag with relief, the tension that had been thrumming through her finally released. “Oh, thank you, Dulia-Chai,” she said. “Some days it doesn’t feel any different with Gaia than before we began dating, and I’ve also been having this awful itch to just…go camping in Lakeland for a sennight like in the old days with Thancred, and Gaia hates that sort of camping.”

Dulia-Chai reached out and gently patted Ryne’s knee. “You and Gaia have a strong foundation, being friends first,” she said, “and that’s good. One’s beloved should also be one’s friend, and some days you will feel that friendship more strongly than your romantic feelings. And your friend knows the two of you don’t need to be bound at the hip at all times! I have no doubt Gaia will understand, and she can enjoy some time to herself and her own hobbies, and then once you’re back, you’ll both be mentally recharged and feeling better. But you have to talk to one another, hm?”

“Yes, Dulia-Chai, I will,” Ryne said, smiling at last. “Thank you again.”

“You are always welcome, my dear. Now…” She held out her arms and winked. “Big squeeze or little squeeze?”

“Big, please!”

As Dulia-Chai gave Ryne a bone-crushing hug that had the girl squeaking in delight, she wondered if a certain black-haired young lady would be visiting her before Ryne had the chance to talk with her.

[poems-of-the-anentomologist]

My words aren’t my words

I’ve dug my own grave

At only fifteen

I shouldn’t write anymore

My pen has run out of ink

And the ink turned to blood

I’ve been sucking myself dry

Every thought

Every feeling

Gone to feed the furnace of creativity

I used to cut myself with knives

Now it’s words

and all they have to say is praise

I just want someone to say anything to confirm my suspicions

I’m not good enough

It isn’t good enough

I’m going to die

And they’ll compliment my corpse

[language-of-love]

Am I really writing fic again? Not sure...but I guess maybe...cause I wrote a thing. Colin and Penelope have me in a vice, y'all.

No idea which of my blogs to use since this is a new fandom for me, so I chose this one. (*waves hello*) Do I even remember how to make a post? LOL

Anyway...here's a tiny little kiss fic, cause that's what I do.

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

never been kissed...

His first was an embarrassment. Fumbling fingers mixed with overwhelmed breaths, the memory built up in his estimation as more revelatory than it was in actuality. There were feelings, undefinable, but new and full and far from perfunctory. The stirring he’d imagined to feel in his belly he’d felt, but not for the nameless partner, but more for the act itself. He’d been left wondering if there was more, something beyond the fluttering like moths wings and mild nausea he’s still unsure was from the touch of another's lips or his nerves alone.

His second was rushed, drunken and hazy, the remnants of it only tickling at the edges of brown liquor-poisoned flashes of dimly lit sights and muffled sounds. His pockets were left lighter from too many coins spent for something so unmemorable. 

His third was better. Confidence and less alcohol proved to be improved bedfellows than his previous encounter, experienced lips matching his eagerness and hands finding purchase on areas before unexplored by soft fingers. He’d flushed at the intimacy of the act, thought back on it fondly, but remembered her hands far more than her mouth. Perhaps that is to be expected.

The few more that followed brought pleasure and exploration, but each one leaving him searching for that elusive something…something life-altering, something poetic, something… more . Looking back at his diary from that time, his confusion over his own feelings, or lack thereof, is etched into the pages with long dry ink. How could he have known something so seemingly unknowable to a man of two and twenty.

The next was his last, the last of the life he’d known before and first of the life irrevocably reshaped after.

Every millisecond of it is etched on his heart, forever being retraced with each minute that passes spent by her side. The warmth from the blush blooming beneath the impossibly soft skin of her cheek, it still causes his fingertips to flex at the slightest reminder. Her eyes, two swirling oceans of impossible blue, wide and questioning, slowly fluttering closed as he'd drawn her closer. He’d never felt so exposed, so uncertain, yet confusingly certain at the same time. That slight pull in his gut he’d felt before, it was nothing contrasted to the plummet his stomach had taken as the plump fullness of her bottom lip made contact with his own. If he’d known what electricity to feel like, he’d have been able to describe it with perfect accuracy. It was quick and searing, warmth being drug to the surface of his skin at the speed of a herd of wild horses tearing across a meadow. And then it was gone, over far too soon and leaving him near panicked and needy in ways when he looks back on he can’t help but feel foolish. He can’t give himself the credit of courageousness or strength for drawing her back in, for it had been born out of necessity, an inability to not have his lips back where they belonged. With each soft slide of her mouth against his own and the warmth of her breath igniting the space between them from the sighs escaping her throat...the formula, the construction, the intricacies of how a kiss was supposed to feel came crashing through the haze he’d been wandering through much too far away.

Entirely too far away from her .

How was he to know that this thing he’d been searching for had been here all along? 

Not this thing, this person . This singular being who made it all make sense.

Pen.

[azsazz]

To My Heart

Knox x Reader

Summary: Anon Request: Oh my gosh Knox is so adorable he has my heart and the head canon that he writes letters to his mate makes my heart melt

Warnings: None

Word Count: 759

Notes: You guys he’s just so cute 😭

_________________________________________

Knox sighs, head propped on curled fists as he watches the night sky. He’s leaned across the deep stone of his balcony, and as much as seeing the smattering of stars and the bright moon hanging high above him calms the male, he’s buzzing with nerves.

He’s tired, beyond so but he can’t sleep, and won’t until she writes him back.

His mate. The word still makes his heart rush in his chest, and he curls his fingers around the pen he’d been playing with to expel his nervous energy. His book sits open and abandoned on the lounger behind him, sketchbook tossed to the side in frustration because he couldn’t get the curve of her lips just right. Loose papers ruffle in the wind from where they’re pinned under the weight of his supplies, a gentle flutter that reflects the pounding of his heart.

Gods, he must be crazy, he thinks, pushing himself away from the overhang. Knox paces the short distance, stretching his wings as if that might stave off some of the nervous energy zipping through his body. She could be asleep, and for a fleeting moment he thinks he might just run and jump off the balcony to find out for himself. He doesn’t want to scare her away when she hardly knows the truth.

But he’d felt her amusement ringing down the bond as he read his letter. Or he assumed she was reading his letter. She could be doing several things instead; baking those treats she seems to like or maybe she’s also reading, lost in the adventures of her novel, not noticing the letter delivered on a bed of darkness.

His hands have a tremor to them, and he stuffs them into his pockets instead, rolling his eyes when his twin’s voice rings through his mind.

What are you doing? Go to sleep.

I can’t, he sends back, trying not to sound defeated. He doesn’t have an excuse, can’t think of one because he truly is bone tired after the day he’s had, training with his father and uncles this morning until noon before he’d been dragged out with Baz for drinks by the Sidra. That, had turned into his older brother stark naked in the cold waters, flirting with a wraith whose red, hot cheeks could’ve boiled the river dry.

Well, all that thinking is bothering me, she responds, and Knox knows his sister is scowling. It makes his lips twitch into a smile, her banter helping to distract him. And some of us need our beauty sleep.

He snorts. I didn’t know my twin was replaced with Zuz. Tell me sister, no midnight rendezvous? He knows she’s been sneaking out just as much as he has lately, and even though his shadows are shared with his sister and he can talk into her mind, even he doesn’t know where she slinks off to in the late hours of the night.

Not tonight, Malos yawns lazily and he cringes because he hates when she does that in his mind. Now fuck off and go to bed.

Love you too, Mal, Knox says, rolling his eyes once more as he feels the strong, steel shield of her mind slides back into place.

And then Knox is pacing again. Maybe he should go for a fly, the open air always makes him feel better. But if she does write him back then he might miss it and that’s the last thing he wants.

His attention is drawn to a whisper of darkness drifting across the night sky like its own cloud of black. It shrouds the moon as it passes and his heart jumps once, twice. Knox all but snatches the neatly folded paper from the grasp of night. He takes a deep breath and can smell her on it. It makes him shiver, like she’s right there with him, the scent of stardust and sugar invading his senses.

The flourish of her writing makes his heart ache. How delicate the curves of her letters are, how light, so the ink doesn’t seep through the paper, the thought she’d gone through to make it look so perfect for him. He traces the letters of his name idly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he stares, heart calm in his chest as he fingers over the shape of the heart, hastily drawn and still wet, as if she drew it and sent it off before she could change her mind.

Knox takes a deep breath and opens the letter.

[petermorwood]

This popped up on my YouTube the other day and not to brag, but...

Oh, why the hell not? It's a small brag, but satisfying. :->

I posted about refilling the Pilot Vpen (IRL-UK) / Varsity (US) - and adding how-to links - about 4 years and then again a year ago.

Here are the how-to links; I'm glad to see they're still active.

This one, like the video, calls for pliers and suggests removing the nib:

This one doesn't use pliers or separate the nib from the feed.

*****

Bragging aside, I'm pleased to see Brian Goulet of Goulet Pens giving this hack a higher profile (and Kudos for it, too - as a retailer it's more in his interest to sell them than refill them!)

His reason is very sound: those cheap little pens (usually about 3-to-4 local currency units whether €, $ or £) are ideal for FP-curious newbies or as no-loss-worries when travelling or no-damage-worries loaners.

They also have much better nibs than the price would suggest. Indeed that seems common to all the inexpensive Pilot pens I've tried, which includes every nib size of MR / Metropolitan.

In addition, IMO the notion of "disposable" fountain pens goes completely against the principal FP virtue, where once you've bought the pen, all you USE is the ink.

So in the US at least * buy that ink from Goulet. They've got one or two to choose from and a selection of samples in vials or sets...

( * In Ireland, with Pen Corner in Dublin now gone, I get mine from CultPens or Penstore.)

*****

I should mention, for completeness, that some "starter" fountain pens have prices not much more than these disposables and, refilled by "proper" ink cartridges / bottle-refill converters, don't involve anything like this trouble.

Just saying...

*****

It just so happens that one of my two Vpens was about due for a refill, so here are some pics of the process.

I scrubbed the markings off the barrels a long time ago so I could see what was inside, since refills mean the ink in the pen often has nothing to do with its colour-indicator cap.

First, disassembled and washed in changes of warm water until the water stays clear.

Here's the nib and feed: they've always come out of both Vpens as a single unit, with no need for pliers. Since the nibs show no desire to come off I've no desire to force the issue and maybe break something; those little ink-guide fins are delicate.

The filler is a small syringe begged from our local vet. I also use it to refill cartridges with custom ink colours (yup, I sometimes roll my own...)

Its "needle" is plastic tubing (an empty Pilot gel-pen cartridge, appropriately enough) which fits the syringe perfectly, and a pointy end made by stretching the tube over a candle-flame then snipping to length. If it gets too stained - this is nearly there - just chuck it in the recycle bin and make a new one.

The ink could have been any of the 30-odd I have at the minute, or something mixed specially, but I chose this one - a nice dark green - for the same reason @dduane had me buy it.

It's a very cute bottle... :->

*****

And here's the "disposable" pen refilled, reassembled and re-writing.

It really does have a better nib than you'd expect from a supposedly single-use pen...

*****

It sometimes takes a while for the ink to work its way by capillary action down from barrel to nib, especially if everything has been left to dry after washing. Put the cap on the pen and be patient.

Or speed things up by taking the cap off and running a thin stream of hot water over the barrel for 30 seconds or so. This increases internal pressure, forcing the ink along the section fins.

NB, this step is only for a refilled Vpen / Varsity. Don't try it with anything else, and in case it's not obvious, do this at a washbasin or sink, because You Never Know.

Now use a bit of kitchen paper or loo roll to blot the water which has got on the nib. This has a mild "suction" effect, and when you see ink on the paper (you might need to wet the nib again) your refilled pen is ready for use.

This wet-and-blot nib step can be used to encourage any stubborn fountain pen to get back in action, but the hot water trick, once again, is Vpen only.

Anyway, done.

[crystal-verse]

Day 2 - Horizon

He holds her hand so, so gently. Her hand is so tiny, she is so tiny -- gods, but even at ten summers Lyna is still so very small, and he aches at it, some times. She is no longer so small as to fit in the crook of a single arm, as she had been when she was but a babe, but she is still small enough that he can hold her so easily, if he wished. (Old as he is, in his mid-eighties. . . even now, the Exarch can't help but wonder, still, if he can be trusted with something like this. Something as fragile as a child.)

Lyna tries so hard to be independent, he thinks fondly, as she tugs at his hand and urges him forward. "Grandpa! I wanna see the trees!" At the edges of the Crystarium, she vibrates with the excited glee that only a child can, excited to enter the Forest of the Lost Shephard and view the lilac foilage.

"Alright, alright." He soothes her, stepping forward and letting her think that she's the one leading. Out the Accensor Gate they go, into the forest properly. The guards at the edge of the Gate salute them both as they pass, and the Exarch nods to them in turn. His staff is affixed to his back, Lyna's hand held in his left, Spoken hand -- should a passing Sin Eater attack, the Exarch shall have the time to scoop the Viis into one arm and pull out his staff, and either shield and attack or flee from there, depending on the Eater's strength.

But -- the Exarch hopes, deeply, that this outing shall be a peaceful one. (It is rare that the Crystal Exarch leaves the Crystarium proper, now, unless there is a battle to be fought in. With the loss of Dulna and Vaimet, the Crystarium Guard has taken a heavy blow, and the Exarch supplements the force when he can, when he needs to, but even still -- he wishes it were not like this.)

Still. Still. There is for now at least the promise of a gentle, unbothered afternoon with his ward -- so for the while, the Exarch shall keep those serious thoughts from his mind, and enjoy the whimsy that little Lyna seems so easily to find.

"Grandpa?" She asks, when they are in the woods proper.

"Yes, Lyna?"

He looks down, to see her chewing on her bottom lip. "What do we do if we get lost?" Lyna asks him, her eyes -- the same purple as Lakeland's trees and grasses -- round with the kind of anxiety born from an imagination that only a child can truly hold.

"Ah." He kneels, then, and takes both her hands in his. Her little hands are warm -- he cannot feel it with his crystal hand, but his other is yet made of flesh, and that hand feels the warmth of the little Viis' hands. "May I show you something, little one?"

Lyna nods, silently. She looks at him with such trust, it baffles the mind. (Do all parents go through this, the constant awe of knowing just how much your child loves and respects and trusts you?)

The Exarch lifts her, gently, until she is sitting on his shoulders. Then, he stands, and, with hands 'round her ankles to keep her steady, walks until he comes to a small meadow in the midst of the forest. ('Tis not that long a journey, luckily.) "Do you see the sky?" He asks her, hood pressed further down over his face by the way that Lyna leans against his head. "Do you see the horizon?"

"I do!" Lyna says, proudly.

"Can you see the Crystal Tower?"

"Yeah!"

The Exarch smiles, and but briefly, he wonders if Lyna can hear it in his voice. "That's good. Now, listen, Lyna -- if you should ever find yourself lost in Lakeland, simply look up to the sky and find the Crystal Tower. So long as you keep moving towards it, you shall find your way home. Do you understand?"

"I understand." Lyna says, solemn in her words but still childish in her tone. (Good. She deserves to keep that childishness, for a while longer.)

"I'm glad." The Exarch says, simply, and sets her back on the ground after a few more moments. Lyna has enjoyed walking on her own two feet of late -- a sharp contrast to how she would beg to be carried when she was but a few summers younger. (He can't find any reason to care, however -- he is simply glad that she is so happy and loved.)

"Let us be off to the Crystarium, yes?" He suggests. "You've seen the forest like you wanted."

Lyna turns to look at him and pouts, stomping her foot. "No! You promised you would take me to the woods and you would rest!"

Ah. "I have been resting, have I not?" The Exarch says, softly. "We can stay in the forest for longer if you would like, but I promise you, this is rest." It is, truly. In comparison to the Exarch's busy days inside of the Crystarium, if nothing else.

Lyna gazes at him for several moments, brows furrowed, before nodding. "Okay. We can go back to the city, Grandpa."

He withholds a chuckle -- Lyna would be upset if he laughed at her, though he would mean no harm by it. How cute, still. Ah, it will be a sad day when she is older, and taller than him. . . still. He holds out a hand, and his little granddaughter takes it. And, following the spire gleaming and piercing the very sky, they return back to the Crystarium. To home.

[indouloureux]

i love love love the blurb u did where joseph falls asleep to reader reading to him, could you write the reverse? where reader falls asleep to joseph reading to them? xx

aaa bhjjhb thank you for reading, and thank you for requesting! <3

his breathing is heavy against your ear. steady, tranquil, like the sound of a harp as it moves beneath the gentle sway of curious fingertips. your head lifts every time he breaths, finding yourself sinking deeper onto the soft cotton of his sweater.

then there's his voice; deep, but mesmerizing like a siren as he reads the inked words of the book he's balancing in one hand while the other runs through your hair. the way he says those words are eloquent, the fiction sprouted out as reality from its grandiloquence.

however, elves and giant rings and wizards are definitely not realistic. but alas, it's enough to render you relaxed.

he kisses your forehead to silently ask if you could flip the page, seeing as his other hand was too preoccupied in losing itself in your locks and from rubbing your back.

joseph's hands, in all its dexterity, manages to comb through the knots of your hair without causing you so much as a short pang on the top of your head. your dampened hair has gone dry from his gentle strokes, and your eyes had gone heavier from each chapter he passes by.

though, unfortunately for you, you don't realize you actually had slept.

because when you whine and tilt your head to snuggle deeper into his chest, his chuckle reverberates which makes you look up at him.

"well, good morning, sleeping beauty," joseph smiles, a dimple creasing on his left cheek, his eyes wide and bright, hair unkempt as they curl across his forehead. "how was your nap?"

you snort. "i didn't even realize i had a nap."

joseph kisses the top of your head again, and you leisurely flip the page. "well, you were droolin' all over me so."

abruptly, you lift your head from his chest to look down at him, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. "i did not!"

there was no dark spot on his chest. you hit his shoulder with the back of your hand before you plop down on top of him again. literally, your whole body weight on top of him, his wrist on your back as he balances the book with one hand, though this gives him the opportunity to flip the page himself.

"i jus' wanna sleep," you say, speech muffled from the smushed cheek, your arms dangling on his sides. "'m so tired, joey,"

he kisses your forehead before flipping the page, running his hand down the dip of your spine right after. he digs his nose on the crown of your head. "go to sleep then, baby."

[panandinpain0]

Oh also

🔫🔫

write something for hermione anything

Not Such a Stranger

Et Voila!

Enjoy this little meet-cute I shoved in there :)

@@@

Requested by: @mailmango

Hermione Granger x GN!Gryffindor!Reader

--

Hermione rolled her eyes, not amused by the situation in the slightest. Harry and Draco were inches away from each other’s faces, which were both bright red. Ron was behind Harry, sizing up Draco’s goons and seemingly getting ready for a physical fight.

Seeing as this had already happened twice this week, Hermione was over it. Looking to the shop beside them, the one they were headed to in the first place, Hermione started walking towards the door. Harry and Ron didn’t even notice as she left, but she figured they’d find her when their anger wore off.

“Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop” was written above the doorway, a bell ringing as she walked in.

“Welcome! Shout if you need anything,” a kind woman from behind the front desk announced, sorting through a new shipment of quills.

Hermione somewhat nodded in acknowledgment before walking over to a table display of new feather types. Uninterested in any of the quills in front of her she decided to stick with her usual quills. As she started to walk away, her eyes caught a display on the wall, distracting her.

She was startled when she ran into something- or rather, someone. A hand reached out to steady her, landing on her up arm as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I should’ve been looking where I’m going, I apologize. Are you alright?”

Her head snapped back up at the voice, and she decided she could have heard it for the rest of her life and still been happy. She had to blink a bit, realizing the person in front of her had asked her a question.

“I’m sorry… what?” Her hand had gone up to hold their arm as well, the two connected.

“Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt or anything, did you?” They repeated.

“Oh, yes. Don’t worry, I'm fine. I’m only glad I didn’t fall.” Hermione quickly nodded, taking the chance to look the person over. They were wearing a cloak, they clearly went to Hogwarts from the emblem on the breast. She blinked, yet again, in surprise as she noticed the red and gold lining of the black cloak. “You- are you in Gryffindor?”

The person, taken aback by the question, darted their gaze down to where Hermione had been looking.

“Oh, um, yes! We… We share some classes together as well. Actually we were paired up in Transfiguration at the beginning of this year.” They looked just as confused as Hermione felt, and their eyes flashed with hurt for a moment.

“I’m… sorry, I can’t say that I remember that.” She felt a bit ashamed. “But I think it’s time we’ve been formally introduced,” Hermione decided aloud, letting go of their arm as it dropped from her shoulder. She held out her hand as an offer for them to shake it. “I’m Hermione Granger, I’m in my sixth year. What’s your name?” She tried to smile, though she was quite embarrassed about not recognizing or knowing them.

Clearing their throat the person smiled as well, meeting her hand halfway. “(Y/N) (L/N), sixth year as well. It’s nice to officially meet you, Granger.”

“And you, (L/N).”

Their hands shook in the middle.

The Next Day…

Having gotten to Ancient Runes early, Hermione picked a seat towards the front of the room. She sat in the second row to the front, pulling out her books and then testing out her new quills. Pulling back from the paper after writing, she admired the smooth lettering, ink drying on the parchment.

Other students started filing into the room as she waited for class to start, not expecting someone to tap her on the shoulder. Looking up to meet the person’s eyes, her own widened with recognition.

“Oh, (L/N)! I didn’t know we had Ancient Runes together,” she commented, looking them over again. They looked wonderful today, a maroon sweater with the Hogwarts emblem on it was over their button up and tie. They looked comfortable. Hermione totally didn’t want to hug them to see if they were warm.

“In your defense, you didn’t really know I existed until a few days ago,” (Y/N) laughed in response. They motioned towards the empty seat next to her, “Is this seat taken?”

“No! Please, sit,” Hermione smiled eagerly, quickly adjusting her hair when they looked away. As they put their bag down and pulled out their books Hermione tried to get it together- she shouldn’t scare them off. Act normal, Hermione.

Unfortunately for her, she was so busy thinking about not messing up that she failed to hear the question (Y/N) had asked her.

“Yes! I mean… what?”

You already failed, Hermione.

With an amused laugh, (Y/N) repeated themself, “Why’d you decide to take Runes?”

“Oh! I’m not really sure. I want to take all the classes Hogwarts has, and Dumbledore allowed me to take a few extras. I thought Runes would be fun,” Hermione explained, putting her elbow on the desk and resting her chin in her hand.

“And is it? Fun, that is.”

Hermione looked to the side for a moment, considering the question. “I think so. It’s hard, and annoying a lot of the time, but it challenges me. It’s hard to find things that challenge me recently.”

(Y/N) smiled at her, nodding in understanding. Hermione misinterpreted the smile, thinking they thought she was being arrogant.

“I didn’t mean to brag! I just meant that-!” She was stopped by a hand on her arm.

“Don’t worry, Granger. I didn’t think that at all, I admire it if anything.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And it helps me get to know you better,” (Y/N) added.

“It does?” Hermione’s brows creased in confusion, finding herself unable to think straight when (Y/N) smiled at her like that.

“Mhm. Now I know you like to learn. What else do you like? Oh- better question- what do you not like?” (Y/N) smirked, copying Hermione’s previous pose of placing their chin in their palm.

“Well, I-”

“Please settle down! Class will begin in a moment,” Professor Babbling announced, gathering papers at the front of the room on her desk.

“I guess we’ll just have to meet up again later to talk about it,” (Y/N) concluded, shrugging and relaxing back into their chair.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered back, still in an odd haze. She smiled shyly when (Y/N) wasn’t looking at her, turning to the front of the room and playing with her quill.

Wait- did they just ask her out?

After Class…

(Y/N) stood up from their chair, gathering up their work and putting it in their bag. Hermione, who’d slightly forgotten their conversation during the long class period, started to do the same.

“So, I’ll see you at lunch?” (Y/N) asked expectantly from in front of Hermione, their face showing a gentle smile.

“What?” Hermione asked in confusion. She’d been asking them to repeat themself a lot, hadn’t she?

“To talk more. Unless you’d like to do it another time? Or not at all!” (Y/N) was quick to reassure, shaking their hands as if to take back their previous statement. They didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or make her think she had to talk to them.

Hermione smiled, laughing a bit as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

“Lunch it is. Where should we meet?” Hermione asked, the two walking out of the classroom together.

“Head of the table?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Hermione confirmed, smiling and waving as they parted.

…

Over the next few weeks, Hermione and (Y/N) would get together at lunch to talk, that’s where they met Harry and Ron. Hermione was very glad they got along, it would’ve been a nightmare if they hadn’t. They’d meet up in the common room or the library to study together, usually Ancient Runes, but lately it’s just ended with them talking (and Hermione insisting that they need to focus).

Soon enough it was rare to see one without the other, and if they were apart they were asking where the other was. Harry and Ron weren’t disturbed by a new person in their group, and Hermione appreciated that it was more balanced now. Harry and Ron would always run off together- and it had never bothered her that they were closer than they were with her, she was just glad she had her partner now.

Well- not partner, I mean, she wished they were her partner. She means in a platonic way- of course. Obviously.

…

Break for the Christmas Holidays was coming up and the group was in the common room, hogging the fireplace. Harry and Ron were on the floor playing wizards chess, Hermione and (Y/N) on the couch. They were shoulder-to-shoulder, using each other for support while they read their respective books, sharing a blanket.

“So Harry, are you still coming over for Christmas?” Ron asked Harry expectantly, worried that Harry would try to stay at Hogwarts again.

“If Mrs. Weasley doesn’t mind. I still feel bad for intruding, no matter how often I’ve been over there,” Harry insisted, commanding one of his pieces to move.

“Mum always says you’re welcome, and you know she’ll get mad at me if you don’t come,” Ron responded, destroying one of Harry’s pieces.

“Alright, if you say so.”

“What about you, ‘Mione? (Y/N)?” Ron asked the two on the sofa, eyes not leaving the board on the floor.

“My parents are expecting me this year, but say hi to your mum for me. My parents and I will be sending a gift when I get home,” Hermione responded, flipping a page in her book.

“I’m staying here again this year,” (Y/N) responded, looking up slowly as they found all three Gryffindors staring at them. “What?”

“How many years have you spent Christmas at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Uhm… six.”

“You’re in your sixth year, though,” Ron commented, tilting his head in confusion.

“Yup,” (Y/N) replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Would you like to come over to my house this Christmas? My parents would love to have you,” Hermione offered, putting her book down for a moment.

“They don’t even know me, and I wouldn’t want to intrude,” (Y/N) insisted, pretending to go back to their book.

“Oh, they know you alright,” Harry snickered, the boys going back to their chess. The two had swiped one of Hermione’s letters she’d been writing, teasing her about her crush, much to her dismay. She had written to her parents all about (Y/N).

“What do you mean-?”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, really!” Hermione interrupted, glaring at Harry before smiling at (Y/N). “What do you say?”

“Well… if I really wouldn’t be a bother…”

“You wouldn’t,” Hermione insisted.

(Y/N) slowly nodded, “Alright. Thank you, Hermione.” And they both settled back into their previous position, shoulders resting against each other.

At the Granger’s…

“I told you they’d love you!” Hermione laughed as the two entered her room, putting their bags on the ground.

“Your parents are wonderful, ‘Mione,” (Y/N) replied with their own laugh, looking around her room. “So, this is where you grew up?” They inspected a picture of her with some of her muggle friends.

“Yes, it is. Some of it’s embarrassing, really,” Hermione nervously chuckled as she quickly hid some of her stuffed animals.

“I think it’s sweet,” (Y/N) muttered in response, admiring a candid picture that her friend had taken of her while they were camping.

Hermione just shook her head, sitting on the bed.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed again, “Stop snooping! Come here.” She motioned for them to lay down with her. As they sat on the covers she flopped back, the mattress bouncing when (Y/N) joined her.

“Thank you, Hermione. This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”

“But Christmas is tomorrow,” Hermione replied with a curious tone, turning her head on the mattress to see their face. They returned the gesture, smiling at her.

“I know.”

Their pinky brushed the back of her hand, and Hermione slowly responded, linking their fingers together.

Snow fell outside, thick snowflakes sticking to the glass as the two Gryffindors shared a kiss. Only the first of many to come.

End

--

Hope you liked it mango! I enjoyed writing it!

-Author Max <3

[merakiui]

Imagine if Azul got turned into a baby and MC won't stop cooing at him even if he doesn't have the mind of a baby

Omg that would be quite the nightmarish situation for Azul.

It's what happens when Azul's lab partner is Floyd, who never bothers to read the lab instructions and just empties whatever materials he wants into the cauldron in hopes of getting an interesting reaction, much to Azul's annoyance. And interesting is certainly the reaction he achieves as, once the smoke has cleared and Professor Crewel has readied himself to put the bad puppies in their places, he's momentarily stopped when he notices Floyd standing beside a pile of clothes. Emerging from the oversized lab coat and uniform, tentacles writhing in a panic, is baby Azul.

If the explosion didn't draw everyone's attention, then the sight of the little, chubby octopus fry who is now thrashing around in Floyd's arms, horrified and on the verge of sobbing and inking, definitely will. Professor Crewel can only sigh as he scolds Floyd, his admonishment going in one ear and out the other. For now, while he works to whip up a cure to reverse the effects of the potion Floyd had concocted, Azul will have to be kept in a saltwater tank and dutifully monitored. Floyd doesn't want to do all of that work, so he hands Azul, who is hiding curled and camouflaged in the tank, off to Jade, who also doesn't wish to be burdened with this at the moment. Both twins joke about how delicious Azul looks, and though Azul can only communicate in high-pitched cries and gurgles and whines (typical baby language), his mind is damning the both of them to the deepest sea trench.

This is where you come into the picture. The twins happily carry the tank over to Ramshackle, insisting that you open the door because they have a surprise for you. You're not sure what you were expecting, but this definitely wasn't it. They ask you to watch Azul while they gather the supplies Crewel needs to create a cure. Jade even went out of his way to write up a list of things to keep baby Azul occupied and placated while he's gone. Azul is absolutely mortified that you have to see him like this. It was one thing to be seen by classmates and the twins; it's another to be seen by his crush! He thrashes so wildly in the tank that water slops over the edge and drenches Grim in the process, who was already very against keeping someone as dangerous as Azul in the comforts of Ramshackle.

"He's even more troublesome when he's little!" Grim complains, sticking his tongue out at Azul through the glass, who scowls darkly at him in response.

Like you're any better, Azul thinks, recalling every instance Grim has caused trouble. He could probably tick each off on a tentacle.

"It's only for a few hours," Jade says, as if that's meant to be consoling to a soaked, unamused Grim. "He's mostly harmless in this form."

"Mostly?" Grim looks to you, shaking his head (and the rest of his body to dry himself) in hopes that you'll mirror his disagreement.

For once, Azul agrees with Grim. He does not want to be here with you for the next few hours, where you'll have to look at such an ugly, squishy, gross form! But before any other negative thoughts can wedge themselves in his brain, you shrug and say, "Okay. Just a few hours, right? I don't have anything planned, so we can watch him."

Azul knows it's impossible for him to drown when he's a child of the sea, but he really wants to in this moment.

"Yaaay! Thanks, shrimpy!" Floyd beams at you, and Azul glares at him. How can he smile like that when it was his carelessness that got Azul into this predicament in the first place?! Floyd peers down at Azul in the water, teasing as always. "Be good for shrimpy and baby seal, 'kay?"

Jade chuckles when Azul splashes a giggling Floyd square in the face. Though he can't verbalize his thoughts, he's cursing him in every language he knows. "Now, now, Azul," Jade chides lightly, a wicked smile stretching on his lips. He hides it behind a gloved hand. "Try not to miss us too much."

He rolls his eyes and turns away from Jade, curling in on himself. This day has only gotten worse. He's so miserable.

After the twins have placed the tank on a table in your room, which is actually decorated quite nicely, they leave to retrieve the ingredients. Azul stares at the interior, committing everything he sees to memory. Maybe this situation isn't too terrible; it's allowed him to be inside your room, a very sacred space he never would have gotten to see under normal circumstances. But then the nature of what he is comes creeping back when he spies his tentacles and it reminds him that anything would be better than this.

You lower into the chair and peer at the glass, placing your finger on it. He reacts without meaning to, affixing the sucker-lined side of his tentacle upon the place where your finger rests. You smile at him, but it isn't a cruel, ridiculing smile.

"Alchemy accident, huh?" you venture calmly, and he's about to respond when he realizes he can't exactly speak actual words when he's in this form. "Don't worry, Azul. You'll be back to your human form in no time."

"Let's hope he stays far away from us after this. He and those shady look-alike brothers," Grim grumbles, sitting atop the table, paws crossed in defiance. "Ya think we could get somethin' free at the lounge for doing a good deed like this? Hmm. Probably not. He's greedy, so he'd make us pay no matter what."

Please, Azul thinks sardonically, hating the idea of being indebted to you and Grim. I'd rather pay for your silence than make you cough up anything.

"Maybe. Maybe not," you reply before turning your attention back to Azul, your eyes glittering excitedly. "So this is what baby Azul looks like. He's actually really cute."

Far from it, Azul thinks bitterly before the realization sinks in. Cute. You called him cute. You think he's...cute.

On one hand, getting called "cute" by his crush is a very good thing! But when it's the form he dislikes most that's called cute... Azul isn't sure if he should just accept it and act like a cute fry to get more compliments from you, or if he should just curl in on himself and hope he vanishes from your sight so he won't feel so embarrassed.

At least he gets to spend some time with you. That's certainly one positive to come out of a very negative situation.

[batsyforyou]

The Quill

Tags: Magic spells gone wrong, quills, lying, silly idea, she/her

Pairing: Elrond x platonic fem reader

Author's Note: I have Glorfindel turned into an apple, Celegorm a horse, Maglor a harp, Maedhros a sword, and Erestor and Gandalf as pumpkins.

“My Lady!” 

“Hm?” 

Pausing, she looked up from her book watching as Lindir raced over to her. 

“Lindir!” She smiled and shut her book. “What can I do for you?” 

“If you spy Lord Elrond wandering the halls can you ask him to meet me in the library with Erestor? I can’t seem to find him.” 

“Oh, of course.” 

Relieved he bowed to her, wishing her a good day he left down the hall with his robes gracefully flowing behind him. She sighed, she would never get over how beautiful and graceful the elves were.

Humming, she went in search of Elrond making for his office. Knocking twice on the door she waited a moment before opening it a crack and peeking her head in. 

“Elrond? Are you here?” 

Pushing it open she stepped in and looked around. His desk was empty aside from his unfinished papers, a chair had been placed in front and a tray with two cups of tea and biscuits were left. It looked like Elrond had just got up and left in the middle of a meeting. 

Shutting the door behind her, she wandered over and hovered her hand over the food and drink. Well, he had been gone for a while and the food and tea were cold. Sighing she sat in his chair, it was very unlike Elrond to leave his office like this; he usually cleaned up his papers and tidied up before he left. 

Shrugging she mumbled to herself, tapping her fingers against her tongue and grabbing a fresh sheet of paper from his pile. While she was here she might as well leave him a note about Lindir. 

Spying a black feathered quill she picked it up and opened his ink, dripping the quill delicately in the ink she gently scraped off the excess and began to write, 

“Dear Elrond.” She wrote, “When you get back Lindir would like for you to meet him in Erestor’s office. He did not say why. He would have done it in person, but he could not find you.”

At the bottom of her note she signed, “Your friend, Y/n.” 

Dropping the quill she took the note and waved it around to dry the ink. 

The door kicked open and Radagast came stumbling through looking panicked when he saw her. “Ah, Lady Y/n I did not expect to see you here.” He shut the door behind him and clasped his hands behind his back. She frowned, he seemed . . . nervous. 

“Yes, I was just writing Elrond a note for when he comes back.” 

Lifting the paper she waved it around as she showed him. 

The wizard seemed to wince and shifted his weight. “And I am to assume that you used the black quill there?” 

She looked at the quill that still held ink on it and picked it up. “This one?” 

He grimaced and nodded. “Yes, you see, that quill is Elrond.” 

She blinked. “The quill is . . . Elrond?”

He cleared his throat and pulled at his collar, “I do believe that is what I said yes.” 

She sighed. “Radagast, must I remind you that Elrond is an elf? An elf of Noldor decent, a father to three children, a husband, rather tall?” 

He nodded vigorously. “Yes, I know that. But you see I—” He his wiggled his head some, “I—might have made him into the quill.” 

Her heart skipped and she slowly moved her eyes to the quill in her hand and back to him. “You made Elrond… into the quill.” 

He tugged at his beard. “Yes. I was reading an ancient text and was curious to see what would happen if I pointed the spell towards, say a plant, but I’m afraid it had the opposite effect than what I thought.” 

Her mouth dropped, “You're telling me that you turned the Lord of this House into a quill!” 

“Ssh!”  

Looking behind him he raised his hands towards you and gestured for you to be quiet. “Keep your voice down!” 

“Ah!” She shot to her feet, “You turned Elrond into a quill and didn’t tell anyone?” 

He paused and nodded. “Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone!?” 

“Can you imagine the chaos that would ensue if I told the elves that I had taken away their leader?”

She gasped horrified, “Taken away?!” Looking at the quill in her hand she asked, “You killed him?! Oh my gosh, have I been using the dead body of an elf to write?” 

“No, no!” The wizard looked mortified at the suggestion. “He is not dead.” 

“Then he is alive?” 

“Well, he should be.” 

“Should be!?”

“It isn’t like the quill has a mouthpiece for which to speak through!” 

Her heart was pounding and she felt light headed. “Wait, can he breathe?” 

She booped the tip of the quill and gasped as she felt wet ink. “Is this his head and the feather his hair!” 

Turning on her heel she raced into the bathroom and turned on the faucet shoving the dirtied part of the quill under the water. 

“Radagast, what if I suffocated him!” 

The wizard came into the room with you as you scrubbed at the quill, watching as the black coloring tainted the water. “It's all right Elrond, I’ll fix it!” 

“If he can breathe, you might be drowning him.” 

Shutting off the water she grabbed the nearby towel and dried off the tip, terrified at the idea. 

“I’m sorry!” 

When dry she held the quill with her palm flat and upright. “Did I hurt him when I, well, used him?” Gosh that sounded wrong.

The wizard shrugged.

“Radagast!” 

“I do not know! For all intensive purposes he is now an inanimate object. He could be aware of what's happening or not.” 

“Except the part where he is a living breathing elf!”

“Ugh!” Shoving past him she went for the door, the wizard following her. “Where are you going?”

She paused by the door, gripping the handle. “To go tell Erestor to call for Gandalf, what else would I be doing?!” 

He reached over and locked the door. 

“Hey!” She cried.

“You can’t tell them.” 

“And why not? They deserve to know!” 

“Can you imagine if word got out? You tell one and soon enough everyone will know that Rivendell is weak! You never know who might be listening.”

She glared at him. “Radagast, Erestor would be the perfect person to tell about this. He is loyal and knows how to run Elrond’s house in his absence.” 

He sighed, “Please just give me a little more time. I believe if I study the book some more, I can reverse the effects before there is even a need to send for Gandalf.” 

“You mean to tell me you haven’t sent for him!?” 

“Just tell them that Elrond is feeling unwell and has retired early for the day.” 

“Radagast, Elrond is an elf! They don’t get sick!”

“And I suppose you have a better idea?!” 

“Anyway, Radagast said that he retired early for the night.” 

Lindir and Erestor looked at each other. “And he asked not to be disturbed?” Lindir asked. 

She nodded, “That's correct.” 

In her hands she cradled the black quill to her like one would a babe, running her thumb over the soft feather. 

Erestor glared at her from his desk, “Fine. I trust we will see him tomorrow.” 

She grimaced. “That is my hope, yes.” 

Lindir frowned, “It is strange he did not tell us.” 

She nodded. “Yes. But I hope he gets all the rest he deserves.”

Masterlist

[soft-for-them]

Bracelet names and drying washing - Gilbert Blythe x plus size reader

Summary: You were just washing clothes until your soul mark appears (Soulmate AU, can be seen as any version of Gilbert.)

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated and help more people read my works.

A/N: I've written that the reader doesn't go to church, so interpret it as you will because too much historical fan fiction makes the reader automatically Christian and white thus excluding POCs and non Christians and I'm not here for that. Also not proofread.

Clothes of many colours hang on the washing line as morning comes and goes.

The sun is bright and it’s surprisingly warm with only a small amount of chilly wind jostling the damp clothes on the line. For an hour now you’ve been washing clothes, at the moment a particularly gruelling mud stain on a rich blue skirt snatching your attention away from the nice warm day. Normally you would soak such stain but you’re being paid to get rid of it quickly so you scrub and scrub and scrub at it.

Your sleeves are rolled up to your chubby upper arms, your own skirt wet with dirtied water as you sit awkwardly on a foot stall, a bucket of yellowing water in front of you.

On a day like today you’d normally be outside reading a book on your little hill maybe even going on a nice walk but you need the money for repairs to your home and really you need the distraction from you little crush so you carry on attacking the dried mud on the skirt like it’s the only thing to do on this nice day.

You’re up to your elbows in murky water so you don’t see the black smudge forming around your wrist, even when you do see the smidgen of black you just rub at it thinking that it’s a bit of mud not noticing that the mark has become jet black and permanent.

“How do you get so much mud on a skirt!” you mutter to yourself as you lift the skirt from the water bucket, the long royal blue skirt belonging to one of the daughters of the local shop owner, the martial too nice for such simple garment and the waist line too tiny for someone as round as you.

It must be a skirt someone would wear to a wedding or church but you don’t go to church so you have no clue how someone could get so much mud on it, especially when it’s so sunny. It’s almost always sunny for crying out loud, you get having grass stains but mud!

You dunk the skirt back in the bucket and pull it back up.

“Ah! YES!” you cheer, the mud stain now finally gone.

You go to stand and a hang the skirt on the washing line strung between two sturdy trees but your eyes trains down to your wrist, the so called mud that you had wiped off still lingering there.

Dark and bold like black ink, your try to wipe away the mark around your wrist only for the swirl of black to solidify on your skin, a name now clear on your (s/c) skin.

Gilbert Blythe.

Like a bracelet around your wrist, the capital ‘G’ starting on the side of your wrist below your thumb, the cursive writing whimsical but clear.

You drop the skirt.

Splashes of dirty water jumps out the bucket onto the dull brown of your dress the water soaking through your shift to your soft body.

Frozen is shock your mind starts to wonder as a small gust of cold wind attacks the drying washing.

For years now you’ve loved Gilbert Blythe, ever since your family moved here when you were twelve. You’ve always been an odd one out in the community being that you don’t look like the average person who lives around here. Most people around here are thin, white and middle aged with an ever growing family, most of which are avid church goers who are very old fashioned in there ways.

Gilbert has always been kind to you but he had fallen in love with another, thus your heart breaking and you solemnly moving on. Still you stayed kind to all, to him especially and now you’re an adult you thought your love for him had dissipated but then Anne of Green Gables took a scholarship and moved away.

Somehow that love young you had for him sprouted back up and for the last year you’ve been trying not to be a bumbling blushing idiot in front of Gilbert.

Your thoughts of his handsome face and the utter shock of your soul mark bearing his name appearing today of all days is suddenly interrupted by another gust of wind, a wind so strong that a petticoat rips form the washing line carrying it down the hill from where you stand.

“Fuck!”

You hope no one is around to hear and see you for you bolt after the petticoat, your mouth running with curse words of varying vulgarity.  

Out of breath with legs beginning to ache you almost fall flat on your face, the grass of the small hill near the trees and stream were you were washing suddenly changing into a thin dirt road. You momentum subsides, your chest heaving up and down as your whole body aches from the sudden running and from all the scrubbing you've been doing.

There standing on the other side of the road (well it’s more just a line of dead grass but it’s used as a road none the less) stands a man, a man you know all too well.

Gilbert walks over to you with equal parts concern and amusement, a damp petticoat in one hand his other hand, more specifically, his other wrist bare, his shirt sleeve rolled up to his elbow.

His white shirt is crumple, his blazer long forgotten, his shoes covered is grass and dirt from running, his eyes sparkling with wonder and hope.

On his wrist in ink black writing, your handwriting to be exact, the name (Y/n) (L/n) big and bold lays like a bracelet.