#not sure why this leapt to mind today but

[frownyalfred]

Bruce trains with the League of Shadows, grows close with Talia and Ra’s, but — eventually — spurns their movement to return to Gotham and pursue his mission.

Years later, he shows up in the middle of the night at Talia’s door. There’s a body in his arms, wrapped in bloodstained sheets.

“The Pit,” he whispers, trembling, “is it true?”

[evielmostdefinitely]

I just stumbled upon your blog and devoured everything you wrote like I was starving

May I ask for reader wanting children... voicing her desire to Snow... and controlling softdom!Snow with a breeding kink 👀 calculating readers' cycle and monitoring everything to make sure it takes

shake the frost |coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|

prompt: you and coriolanus are trying for a baby. coryo is taking it very seriously.

contains: smut. dom!coriolanus. dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. trying for a baby. smut. pinvsex, creampie. fem!reader.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Coriolanus stood from his place at the end of the table, the room joining him on their feet- a sign of respect, a reaction of fear. Either way, Coryo was pleased. “Dr. Gaul will be taking over this meeting. I expect you all to listen to her judgment, have the plans for the arena’s extension by tomorrow.” 

A muttering of obedience filled like a steady buzz through the room, but Coryo didn’t bother to stay. Heavy footsteps pacing through the grand halls of the Capitol, hands smoothing over his pristinely pressed suit jacket as he stalked towards your private wing. 

You jumped when you heard the dull beep of the security system, the door opening under Coriolanus’ recognition. You turned, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Back already?” 

“For now, yes.” Coriolanus hummed, his mind too consumed with the task before him to scold you for your teasing. Any other time, he’d have you crawl to him, take him in your mouth and worship him, be grateful for him coming to see you. 

“I have meetings later today, but for now,” Coriolanus made quick work of undoing his buttons, shoving the shirt to the ground. “Get undressed.” 

“Oh?” You giggled at his command, thighs pressing together. Still, you reached for your skirt’s zipper, kicking off your shoes to the side. “I was going to ask if you were hungry, my dear, but I guess I’ve gotten my-” 

“-Enough.” Coryo huffed, tongue clicking in annoyance. “I do not have time for your silly games today. I am just trying to fulfill your wish, but if your mind has changed, then I will go back to work and we can abandon this at once.” 

You burned under his threat, piercing eyes pinning you with their intensity. “No,” You muttered, stepping out of your skirt, pulling the blouse carefully over your head. “No, Coryo, I-I was just teasing.” 

Coryo hummed, chin tilted high to stare at you, down the slope of his nose. “That’s what I thought.” He nodded firmly. “You act as if I have all this time. To track your fertility, take time out of my important schedule to mount you.” 

Your face fell in hurt, suddenly aware of your bare vulnerability. “Mount me?” You scoffed lightly, arms hugging tightly around your chest. Coriolanus’ heart leapt at your tone. “Please, if I’m such an inconvenience, then don’t let me hold you from your duties. Clearly they’re more important than me, than creating a family.” 

“Don’t you dare.” Coriolanus took a step towards you, tone harsh, biting with threat. “You know that’s not true. You are the most important thing to me, my darling, which is exactly why I do make time to do this. But I still have other tasks, you know that. I can’t linger for too long.”

Your gaze lifted, sheepishly meeting his gaze. “Don’t be so cruel to me now.” You muttered, a soft request. “Not when we’re doing this. That’s-That’s now how I want to bring a baby into our lives.” 

Coriolanus swallowed down his retort, sharp and firm with correction. Still, a part of him knew you were right to want the baby to come out of love, out of gentleness. He nodded, a soft hand gliding over your skin, coaxing your arms down. 

His lips found yours, capturing them in a sweet yet domineering way. You let him kiss you, your mind blanking, dizzy with lust, Coriolanus’ body sliding over yours on the rug covered floor. His lips hungrily kissing down your neck, fingers slipping between your legs, teasing your slick folds with expertise. 

“Coryo,” You gasped, fisting his blonde curls, perfectly coiffed from the day. His fingers curled inside of you, stretching you for him. “That- mmm.” Your gasps fell flat from your lips. 

“Tell me.” Coryo’s eyes were on you, as bright and piercing as they always were, filled with something that teetered on darkness. It made you shudder. “Tell me how I make you feel. Don’t hold back from me, my love.” 

You whimpered, swallowing back a shudder that still trembled over your body. “Coryo,” You whispered, breath caught in your lungs. His fingers curled, pad of his thumb brushing over your clit, toes curling into the rug beneath you. “Oh, y-you know how it feels.”

And he did, of course he did. He knew he was making you feel good, and knew exactly how to make you feel good. He’d studied your body nearly scientifically, when the two of you had first gotten together. Coriolanus wanted to know what made you feel good, how to make you feel good, what got you brainless and sweet, and what got you needy and hungry for more. 

Now, he knew more than then, but he was still learning even now. The first time he’d fucked you, trying to get you pregnant, you’d been nearly insatiable. Craving him more and more and more, until he was nearly begging for mercy to stop instead of you. 

It was why he took so much time and care, thoughtfully plotting out your cycles, because it made you so wonderstruck in his devotion. 

“Look at me.” Coryo rasped, body sliding over your own, skin to skin, your leg wrapping around his hip. “Tell me how it feels?” 

You did whimper this time, a pathetic mewling under his ardent gaze. “I-It feels good, Coryo.” You shuddered, breath hitching in the back of your throat. “You always make me feel good.” 

Coryo bit back a smug smirk, though his eyes gave him away. Lighting with fiery satisfaction, lips pressing to your jaw, trailing up your cheeks. “Do you feel good enough to take me now?” His lips vibrated against your skin with the question. 

“Feel good enough to take my release? Let it take inside of you?” It was filthy, so lewd even for Coryo. You throbbed, ached between your thighs at his words, rutting against his thigh for friction. 

“Yes,” You whined, more demanding than usual. “I’m ready, Coryo, please.” 

Coryo slipped inside of you, feeding you his cock slowly, softer than usual. His hands intertwined in yours, pinning you to the carpet beneath him, pillowy lips pressed to yours so he could feel every gasp and moan. 

He fucked you sweet, slow but filling strokes that had your eyes rolling back, hand sneaking between your bodies to toy with your clit. That hunger still resided in him, even with his soft side, he felt the need to show his superiority. 

Your head was spinning, dizzy and dazed from your third orgasm when Coriolanus finally spilled into you, cock milking inside of you every last drop of his seed. 

“You must put your legs up, my darling.” Coriolanus muttered, hands wrapped around your ankles, moving them so they hooked over the couch. You couldn’t move, too overwhelmed with sensation, body still quaking with aftershocks of pleasure. 

His eyes cut down to you, bare on the rug beneath him. Entirely boneless, his release leaking gently down your inner thighs. If only he had a camera, he’d take a million photos, print them and show them to the world- show them how he staked his claim on you, how reliant the mighty Duke heiress is on him. 

He’d never do that, of course, a fantasy to stay in the clandestine filth of his mind unless he wanted your father to have him hung. Still, his cock twitched at the idea of how you’d look pregnant, how the world would know then, when you started to round and swell with signs of life he’d put in you. How those who doubted him, wronged him, ridiculed him would know then. 

“I read it in a book.” Coriolanus added when your eyes fluttered to his, a glassy eyed gaze that had his chest swirling with warmth. He swiped his undergarments from off the floor, slipping them on before settling beside you. 

Your forehead was warm, damp under his touch, though you keened into his palm. “I also read,” Coriolanus whispered, tone in a raspy sort of coo- nearly gentle. His hand moved down your torso, towards your raised legs. 

You gasped when his hands slipped between your legs, body writhing at the sensitivity still there. Coriolanus’ left palm pressed to your sternum, held you in place. “That you should massage,” His right hand found your mound, finger tips digging and rubbing the muscle of the pubic bone gently. “Your cunt. That it will help my seed take to you.” 

You could barely register what he was saying, mouth opening dumbly, strangled with gasps. Coryo massaging your mound, his seed leaking and moving with every wiggle and clench you gave. You lifted your eyes, met by his wolfish grin, wicked and daring. “There.” Coryo gave a final squeeze to the flesh of your snatch. “That should have taken, but lie there to be sure.” A soft, ghosting of a kiss pressed to your temple, before he padded to the bedroom. The steady stream of the shower rang through your ears, cheek pressed to the carpet, left sprawled and spread limply on the floor of your living room.

[moonpetrichors-blog]

AHHH HIHII!! i luv ur work it literally has me twirling my hair and shi, i was wondering if u could write a neteyam x navin reader where the reader is like playing with tuk and neteyam realizes he was in love with reader on the spot the whole time and he could imagine like a future with the reader aswell?? TYSM I LOVE UR WRITING SM

Something About You

Tags: Neteyam x Omaticaya!Reader, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Crush Blush, Longing Look, Tuk is The Best Wingman, Good With Kids

Warnings: None

One afternoon, Neteyam had to watch over his youngest sister. You insisted on accompanying him, and he agreed, not minding the extra help. As you played with Tuk, the thought crossed Neteyam's mind that suddenly, you might just be the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

EIOEWGHOEH EVERYTIME I SEE ASKS LIKE THIS I START GIGGLING AND KICKING MY FEET LMAOO 😭😭 this idea is super lovely, and tysm for the support, happy new years btw ♥♥ also if u look at the title, I based it off the eyedress song 🤭 italics are Neteyam’s thoughts btw!!

* ˚ ✦ 1075 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [01/01/23] ❞  

Neteyam sighed as he followed you and his sister. His parents had requested him to watch after her today, and you had overheard their chat. You asked Neteyam if you could accompany him because you enjoyed playing with Tuk, and he concurred. He's never been sure what his little sister liked to do, so your assistance was greatly appreciated.

Tuk squeezed your hand as you guided her towards the woods. The sun was shining brilliantly, and the foliage was soaking up the warmth. The trees were golden in hue, and you eventually found a large expanse of grass for you and Tuk to romp in.

Neteyam selected a tree to relax against, and settled comfortably while you and Tuk traveled only a little further away. He looked at you both, laughing and spinning around the woodland.

Neteyam was frightened for a moment and nearly leapt out of his seat when you lifted up Tuk to toss her into the air, but he calmed down when he saw how effortlessly you retrieved her again. He cannot help but be concerned about his siblings' welfare, but he knows you're excellent with children. You'd never do anything that would harm them.

Tuk's laugh resonated through the treetops as she pleaded with you to throw her again. She appeared to be having fun, but you suddenly realized that Neteyam must be bored sitting alone and observing.

You caught Tuk once more and gently lowered her on the grass. “Neteyam, why don’t you come here and play with us?”

He shook his head, and smiled. “I’m okay.”

You shrugged, and continued to play with his little sister.

...

You ultimately grew tired of tossing Tuk into the air, so you devised a brilliant plan.

“Tuk, why don’t I decorate your braids?”

She seemed perplexed for a moment, before you clarified that you were going to pick out some flowers to put in her hair. Her eyes sparkled at the thought, and she, of course, answered yes.

Tuk was seated in your lap as you meticulously ornamented her braids with an assortment of various, colorful flowers you had gathered. Neteyam maintained his gaze from a distance, and he began to grin to himself. He thought to himself that you were wonderful with kids, and his smile only grew even wider when Tuk gazed into her reflection in a nearby waterhole.

She giggled with delight at her enhanced appearance. “Thank you so much Y/N!”

Because she was so adorable, you pinched her cheeks.

Tuk scrunched up her nose, recoiling from the action. “Let me put flowers in your braids too!”

You agreed with a nod and sat down in front of her. You failed to notice Neteyam's intense stare at you as Tuk adorned your tresses with the leftover blossoms. The sunlight cascaded over you so sweetly that you gleamed like a gift from Eywa herself. Neteyam couldn't believe he'd never noted how stunning you were, and the feeling was further accentuated by the flowers in your hair. He massaged his burning cheeks with his palm; was he blushing?

Tuk's amusement at using you as her personal doll unabated, and the one idea orbiting Neteyam's short-circuiting mind, aside from how you looked straight out of his dreams, was how natural you were with children. Would you behave similarly with your children together, too?

Wait, what?

He had to mentally scold himself for thinking such a thing. Even though it felt improper to envisage it with you because you were only a friend, he couldn't peel the gaze of burning desire away from you. His brain begged him to suppress these feelings, but his heart and blazing cheeks revealed a different story.

His heart stopped. When you decided to turn around, you met his eyes that refused to look away. Neteyam sucked in a breath, fearful for a moment that you could see into his thoughts. He released a sigh of relief as you merely cracked a smile towards him, not knowing how he was really staring at you.

Then another terrifying thought had crossed his mind. Had he always liked you?

You veered away from Tuk to catch a glimpse of your reflection in the waterhole as Neteyam battled with himself internally. You clasped your hands together, praising Tuk on her work, and hugged her warmly. She was scooped up again and twirled around.

You sidled up to Neteyam after you had laid Tuk down, scratching the back of your neck. The sunshine from behind your figure seeped into his vision as he stared up at you through his thick lashes. He didn't mind that he could only see you.

You looked at him sheepishly. “How do I look?”

He snapped out of his reverie, and stuttered for a moment before registering that you asked him a question.

“So pretty.”

As you looked straight at him stupidly, he threw his palm over his mouth. You were both matching blushes as you were suddenly feeling blisteringly hot. Tuk giggled from behind you, her eyes narrowed at her brother.

It didn't help that she was whispering 'Neteyam's got a cruushh...'

Damn that child.

You turned around to hear what she said, and out of your peripheral vision, Neteyam lifted his fist at her, mouthing for her to quit speaking. When your gaze met hers you arched an eyebrow, but she had already closed her mouth and remained serious. She cracked an innocent smile at you.

You looked back at Neteyam, and decided that all of a sudden you had very, very important obligations to attend to at that moment.

“Well, I think I should get home now, haha!”

Neteyam stood up abruptly, laughing nervously. He was chanting in his head to speak confidently.

He stuttered instead. “Oh, me too, haha! Me and Tuk should be meeting with our parents again.”

You couldn't stop giggling uncontrollably like idiots, and while you were heading in opposite directions, you unintentionally bonked heads. He groaned in pain as he touched the tender region on his forehead, but apologized profusely when he noticed that you were also afflicted.

You couldn't bear how mortified you were, so you let out a torrent of apologies and hurried out of the woodland as swiftly as you could. You couldn't believe Neteyam had declared you were pretty!

In your wake, you left behind a trail of flowers. Neteyam discreetly grabbed and pocketed one. You know, for safekeeping.

There was just something about you.

[tragedybunny]

Absolution

༺Summary༻

Astarion and Serafina have an argument and Astarion does what he thinks is necessary to keep her with him. Set before his Act 2 confession.

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Serafina (Female Tav/OC)

༺Warnings༻ PiV sex, oral sex, all occurring while Astarion disassociates.

༺Word Count༻ 2441

༺A/N༻ Although most of my reader fics are based my Tav, Serafina, and my experience playing the game as her, this is the first fic I've written featuring her as a named character. And it's my first BG3 fic in 3rd person. I hope you all enjoy it. Thanks to @satanicspinosaurus for the wonderful beta.

The scene from earlier plays over and over in his mind. 

“You don't know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” Sera, sweet, kind, gentle, patient Serafina, had yelled at him. Not once since they'd met on that beach had their erstwhile leader even raised her voice slightly at him. And today she shouted at him. All because she couldn't read Elvish and he'd reacted with the same humor she’d claimed to enjoy. Turning it on him as though he’d been the one in the wrong. 

They'd been seated around the fire while Wyll took his turn “cooking”, going through some papers and books they'd found in the wake of a goblin attack. They were looking for any clues into the cult's movements or plans. Sera had plucked a small, neatly bound journal from the pile and turned it over in her hands. It was a thing clearly well-made and cared for. She'd opened it gently, respectful of the fine binding holding it all together. 

Her brilliant blue eyes had scanned a few pages before she gave out a frustrated sigh. “Elvish,” she muttered, snapping it shut violently and thrusting it at Astarion. “You'll probably have better luck with that.”

He wasn't sure why he did it. The half-elf’s reaction was disproportionate to simply encountering a foreign language, that was obvious. Maybe it was because he’d become too used to teasing her since they’d started their “relationship.” Their easy back and forth banter giving him the foreign feeling of acceptance. 

 Or maybe it was his own way of trying to deny those irritatingly tender feelings that had started to creep in whenever he caught her glancing his way or their hands touched, or she laughed at one of his jokes. The need to push back against them, sharpening his tongue and drawing out ancient bias. 

Whatever caused it, he should’ve thought before opening his mouth. “Can’t read Espruar? Someone got forgotten by one parent. Is that why you threw a tantrum and ran-”

“Shut up!” Sera leapt up from the log she’d been seated on and glared at him. “You don’t know anything about me, Astarion! So just leave it be.” 

With that, she’d stormed off and left him silently stunned, as though awaiting a reprisal that didn’t come. Around him, their companions pretended to look away and he caught a few whispers on the air. “What are you all looking at? It’s not my fault she suddenly can’t take a joke.” He’d sulked off to his own tent, waiting until her tantrum had passed and everyone forgot his misstep. He’d assumed Sera would cool down and come out for dinner, but instead she’d remained stubbornly locked away. Karlach had brought her a bowl of what they were generously calling stew. 

Everyone had eaten and retired for the evening and she was still pouting. Which brought him to now, slinking his way across camp toward her tent. He had to do something, he couldn't watch his hard won protection slip away. It absolutely had nothing to do with the fact that Sera gave him a little kiss and wished him goodnight every other night lately and it had been noticeably withheld tonight. 

The way the moonlight filtered through the trees, one solid beam pointing down on her tent, a poet might say that Selune was guiding him. Poets were idiots. Parting the flap just the smallest amount, he starts to slip inside, intent on waking her to settle things if he needed to, when a sound stopped him. A strangled cry, was it directed at him? He froze, half inside, the errant moonbeam that slipped around him haloing her with soft illumination. 

Another wordless cry. Only a nightmare, nothing to be concerned with. Stepping in, he lets the tent shut, plunging them both back into darkness. With a predator’s stealth, he approaches her bedroll, kneeling down, eyes subconsciously glancing at the healing puncture wounds on her neck. 

“Let me out.” Her sudden words startle him. 

Stumbling backwards, he nearly loses his balance to go sprawling across the floor. His skin suddenly heated, as though the breath that carried those words could burn him. 

Another sob comes as she thrashes around a bit. “Please, I won't run,” unintelligible sounds follow the small plea. “Let me out.” 

Locked up. She'd been locked up too. Regaining himself, he crept toward her again, as she shook and cried. Someone had hurt her. But who would want to do that?

She was Sera, unfailingly kind; who aided refugees, saved children, fought monsters, and foolishly fed manipulative vampires.  

The sobbing becomes frantic and without thinking he reaches out to gently grasp her shoulder. “Sera,” she struggles against his touch with a whimper. Growling in frustration, he shakes her a little more roughly. “Serafina!” 

Eyes snap open to behold him with wide pupils as her chest heaves. “A-Astarion?” Sitting quickly, she pulls away from him, and he feels a sudden sting in his chest. “What are you doing here?” She hisses, apparently still angry with him. 

“You were having a nightmare.” He replies, trying to soften his voice, to be the lover she had come to expect. 

“Hmm,” her eyes focus across the tent to an empty lantern, “fiat lux.” Small little motes of light appear in the lantern, swirling gently in their prison, as Sera draws her knees up to her chest. “Well, I'm awake now, you can go.”

The forlorn gaze and empty voice were nothing like the Serafina he'd come to know and the unsettled sensation in the back of his mind grows. He cleares his throat, trying to get the words moving. “I didn’t come just to wake you up, I wanted to…apologize. For earlier. I’m sorry, the joke was in poor taste.” 

Turning her head, she glances his way from where it rested on her knees. She looks so small like this, so far from the fierce woman who’d led them from the moment of the crash. “Apology accepted, I probably took it too personally.” 

It didn’t quite ring true, but he plows on anyway, hoping maybe those blue eyes would light back up for him. “The truth is, I’m actually a bit rusty with Espruar myself. But maybe I could teach you and it would be good practice for me.” He affects the warmest smile he could, sure the gesture would win her over.

Instead, she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. It doesn’t actually matter all that much. Thanks for the thought though. You can go, I’m not still mad at you. I’ll see you in the morning.”

That was not his Serafina. He has to do something, to fix this. To keep her on his side. Reaching out, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her into his lap, lips closing over hers. “What’s this about?” She huffs as her skin began to flush a pretty pink. 

“Pleading my apology some more,” his voice drops to the low sultry tone that made her pulse jump in a way he could hear. 

“I said you were forgiven.” Despite her protest, her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer. 

“Your words said that, but your eyes spoke differently.” His lips trace a line of kisses from her lips to the lobe of her ear, making her sigh. 

This was what he could do for her, what he did best. It was a skill honed by two hundred years of unwilling practice, and like so many before, a skill she was willing to make use of. At least it was easy enough with Sera, she was sweet and gentle, and he knew she'd never harm him. And it wasn't as though a part of him didn't want her, she was a pretty little thing. That part was just bound up with all the other parts that hated what his body had been used for. If he had to open his pants for anyone, he supposes he was glad it was her. 

“I meant it, but- gods Astarion!” He runs his tongue along the point of her ear, less sensitive than his, but still enough to start driving her mad. 

“In that case, we'll call it making up for my behavior earlier.” Guiding her to face him, legs straddling his, her warm core settles against his hips. He kisses his way back down to her throat, already feeling his mind growing distant from his actions. 

Lips linger near the marks on her neck, and she squirms in his lap. “Do you want to?” 

He could never say no to that offer. Without hesitation, his fangs sink into her flesh, and succulent liquid pours into his throat. It adds to what little pleasure he’s able to wring from what he was about to do. Sera whimpers and writhes in his lap, grinding down on his growing erection. She hadn’t started out allowing him to feed on her as some form of pleasure, but she had given him her neck as often as the rest of her body, and the two had become inextricably tied together. 

Just a sip for tonight, after everything that had happened, he couldn’t ask too much. Too soon he pulls his fangs away to lap at the remainders and kiss the wounds. Blood and a distant mind, this was good as it would be for him. “Let's get this out of the way.” Fingers grip the hem of her shirt and guide it over her head. 

She shivers as the night air caresses her skin and leans into him. It was almost enough to make him laugh, there was nothing about him that could provide any warmth. Instead he continues kissing his way down her chest, nipping lightly until her back arches into him and she makes a needy noise. 

“Patience,” he chides her, releasing his grip on her to remove his own shirt. 

Hands encircle her waist in an iron grip, holding her firmly in place while tongue and teeth tease her rosebud nipples. Fingers trace his back as she pants, trying to contain all the noises that could wake the camp. Her nails ghost along his flesh, and he senses she longs to dig them in.. She hadn’t even attempted to ask about it. Why did she afford him such gentleness, was she wary that it would be too much on his scarred flesh?

Lips leave off her hardened peaks to capture hers again, and she grinds against him even harder. No doubt her small clothes were soaked. “You drive me mad,” she whispers, lost in desire. 

Just as he’d wanted, Serafina, hurt feelings and nightmares forgotten. “You enjoy it.” He captured her lip between his teeth for a second and nibbles. “Stand up, take your pants off for me.” He awaits her on his knees, as a penitent seeking their absolution. 

She’s so occupied, she doesn’t notice as his gaze finds the dancing lights in the lantern, and watches them swirl aimlessly until she’s naked before him. Gripping her thighs, he pulls her in, holding them apart so his tongue can swipe along her sex, as soaked as he predicted. Sera’s not a bard, but she sings for him anyway. Fingers grip into his curls, not too tightly. Sometimes he wishes she wouldn’t be so damn gentle, that she'd be like everyone else, someone easy to use, instead of, whatever all this was. 

“Astarion,” she keens as he slips two fingers inside her, tongue running over her clit. 

He laps and suckles at it almost as fiercely as he does the wounds he leaves in her neck. The fingers inside her find the spot that causes her knees to buckle and another cry to leave her. She’s close, just a little more, and he could leave it for the night.  

“I want you inside me.” He stiffens, inhaling deeply. 

“Do you now, my sweet?” He nips her thigh playfully with his fangs while his stomach drops. “Then come down here.” 

As soon she hits her knees, he's positioning her on all fours, he can’t look her in the eyes right now. He tears his pants open, eyes finding the lights again, concentrating on them as he pushes inside her. She’s warm and wet as she pushes back against him, eager to have all of him. Because she chooses him. No matter how many of his rough edges and dark corners she finds, she wants him. Would she still want him if she saw it all?

Forget it, he tells himself, pushing that thought away. He clears his mind until there’s only the moment, the sensation left, hips slapping against hers, the way her body clenches around his cock, how she eagerly sucks the fingers he puts in her mouth so she has something to absorb the moans. 

It’s almost enough to completely lose himself, his cock twitches. It’s spectacular, the way she meets every thrust and takes everything he has to give. “Touch yourself,” he urges, eager for her to come undone. 

Her own fingers slide between her folds, working feverishly. It’s not long before the noises muffled by his fingers become frantic and she tightens around him. 

“That’s it, my darling, let go.” With another deep thrust, he allows himself a release. “Sera,” he gasps, knowing it will please her to hear her name on his lips. 

They collapse next to one another on the bedroll, Sera quick to snuggle up in his arms. It takes longer than it should to embrace her, his body wanting to run. “Is everything alright?” She asks, innocently, from where she lays, head on his chest. Maybe there are merciful gods, she can’t see his face. 

“Of course, love. I think I may have worn myself out after all the walking today.” Softly, he kisses her head, he can’t let her suspect. 

“Well don’t complain tomorrow, Lae’zel will blame me for sure. I don’t think I was very discreet.” She laughs, sounding like sleep is already returning to her. 

“But you are to blame. If you weren’t so irresistible.” He tries to laugh as well. This stupid, sweet girl, why does she lay in a monster’s arms and giggle? 

With a yawn, she gives him an out. “You should probably go, I’m going to fall asleep soon and don’t want to trap you here.” 

One more kiss, even as his mind insists on fleeing. “Goodnight my love, rest well, and I’m sorry again.”

“For what?”

“For earlier.” For everything. 

Tag list:

@micropoe10  @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

 @tallymonster  @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin

@bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly

@elora-the-slutty-songstress @bhaalbaaby @spacebarbarianweird

@darlingxdragon @wanderingisobel @astarionsbeloved

@vixstarria @claryvoyantfray @volotramp @misscrissfemmefatale @bg3obsessedsideblog @captainaceofspades @wickedwitchofthewilds @asterordinary

[newbie-whovian]

I NEED TO REQUEST A TIMELORD! READER X 10TH DOCTOR!!!

I feel like there’s just not enough on the app.

could be just like cute adventures, two time lords chatting, idk you decide <3

(so sorry for the wait! This was super fun to write, thanks so much for the ask 👌)

A Madman In A Box

Rating: G

Pairing(s): 10th Doctor & Time Lord!Reader

Tags/TW: Time Lord reader, reader is gender neutral

The Doctor was unlike any Time Lord you'd ever met.

For one, he seemed to have no idea what he was doing at any given moment. He leapt headfirst into danger, and almost seemed to relish in leaving an impact. The two of you had travelled to hundreds of different star systems, and it seemed to be his mission to leave each place a little better off than when you'd arrived.

It was baffling, but as you spent more time travelling space and time in his antiquated Type 40 TARDIS, you began to realize that this lifestyle fit you more than a life on Gallifrey ever would.

Today, the Doctor was taking a bit of a break. Instead of scouting for a new adventure to insert himself into, he was camped out in the console room, lying on his back and taking apart... Something.

"What are you doing?" you asked, sitting in one of the jump seats. You tended to hover whenever the Doctor began... Tinkering - once he'd tried to correct the chameleon circuit and nearly ejected the entire console room into space.

He sat up, promptly knocking his head against the bottom of the console. "General maintenance," he muttered as he rubbed the forming knot on his forehead, "Have to make sure the old girl is in tip top shape."

You smothered a snort. "I think the 'old girl' was out of commission before either of us were even born," you said, and he answered you with a huff.

"It's not like they had the newest model just sitting empty in a museum," he said. The TARDIS gave an indignant hum and he patted the central column, saying, "Besides, she's the best machine I've ever operated."

You raised your eyebrows and nodded, crossing one leg over the other and reclining in your chair.

After a moment, you asked, "Why did you do it? I mean, you hardly passed your exams, whatever made you think to go off on your own?"

He paused. "I just hated being there. My first face had never liked being cooped up on that dust ball-"

"Your first face?" you interrupted, "I never heard that bit. You left before you had even regenerated, even once?"

He nodded, saying, "I don't know what it was back then, maybe I was going stir-crazy, maybe I saw the writing on the wall and decided to try and avoid it on my own, I don't know. But I left, and I'm better off for it."

A question arose in your mind and you quickly shoved it back down. The Time War was a topic that - the two of you had agreed - was best left alone, and you respected that. It was an open wound in the universe, and you'd never seen it more plainly than in your best friend.

"What do you have in mind for the next trip?" you asked, and his face lit up.

He stood up from the floor and tugged one of the view screens over to where you could see, flipping a switch and displaying a star chart. "So, you know the forest of Pitinia?"

"The bird sanctuary?"

"Yes. Well, in the next system over, the same people have built the biggest aquarium in the universe."

You sat up in your chair, a smile dancing across your face. "Have you got ginger beer somewhere?"

He met your gaze with a wide smile. "You read my mind."

[orcasoul]

Oh Mama! A continuation of Oh Baby

Summery: As the birth draws closer you reflect on all the ways Pedro has been there for you throughout your pregnancy.

Warnings: Swearing, verbal abuse (not by our sweet man), protective Pedro, fluff, use of Y/N.

Italics indicate in ward thinking and flashbacks.

This is a continuation of Oh Baby which was meant to be a one shot but after a request for a part 2 I've decided to write this and a part 3 which will be called Oh Daddy, which will focus on Pedro being the amazing dad and partner we all know he would be :)

Miserable! that's how you feel. Miserable, bloated, heavy. No matter how much you shift or turn, finding a good sleeping position is next to impossible. It also doesn't help that you're in the middle of a sweltering heatwave. The aircon is on but it might as well be non existent with the hot flashes that keep plaguing your body.

You look to your left and feel a little twinge of jealousy as you watch Pedro sleep soundly in the dim lamp light. Why the fuck should he get to sleep while I can't! You know it's just the hormones making you feel irritable and bitter but right now you want nothing more than to shake him awake and tell him to stay awake with you.

But no matter how irritable your last month of pregnancy is making you there's no way you be that spiteful. As you watch Pedro sleep, his plush lips slightly parted, letting slow, rhythmic breathes escape, you begin to reminisce all the ways he's been there for you, supporting you and caring for you since you'd told him you're pregnant.

Neither one of you had planned for this baby, but life doesn't always go according to our own plans. It has it's own agenda and all you can do is follow the path it lays before you and do your very best. After your initial fear of telling Pedro about the baby- and that awful resulting anxiety induced nightmare - you both seemed to easily slip into your natural roles. You; the nurturing and tender mother and Pedro; the protective and comforting father and partner.

For someone who once said he's never gonna be a dad, he sure seemed happy and content these past 7 months and that happiness has bubbled over into excitement now that the birth will be any day. Pedro stirs in his sleep a little, causing a couple of stray curls to fall onto his forehead. You gently brush them back up off his face, taking care not to wake him.

You guess he could actually do with the rest after weeks of being at your every beck and call, sometimes even going out at stupid 'o' clock to buy whatever your insatiable cravings demanded. You shift for the thousandth time, onto your side and put a pillow between your knees to provide some - but not much - relief. You continue to watch him sleep, feeling his breath fan your face, his shoulders slowly rising and falling and you feel the baby kick you again.

The little Bun - as you both lovingly refer to it since you've both agreed to not find out the sex and be surprised - has been quite active today. Tears fill your eyes and suddenly you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, as you place your hand tenderly on your bump and stare at the face of the man you love. This is what it's all about, you perceive, growing a beautiful new life with the perfect man. And boy, has he been just that for the past several months.

Your mind starts to wander back to all the moments where Pedro has gone above and beyond for you both....

The third month of your pregnancy is when your morning sickness really ramped up. Until that point you had only felt slightly nauseous but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. The first time you threw up actually startled Pedro. The poor guy almost had a heart attack when you leapt up from bed, accidentally dragging the quilt and him across the bed. You would have felt bad about waking him if you weren't too busy spewing your guts up into the toilet.

"What the fuck?!" is what you heard from the bedroom as you heaved and retched. "Baby?... You Okay?" Pedro asked quietly from behind you in the doorway to the on suite. "Yeah I'm-" blargh!- "I'm... good," you finally reply in a shaky voice as you wipe your mouth with one hand while the other holds your hair back. And so it went on for months. Pedro was always beside you (when he wasn't away filming or doing interviews) rubbing soothing strokes along your back, whispering comforting words and waiting with a glass of water in hand.

The more frequent the episodes became, the more he started to worry about you. You hated seeing him so worried as much as he hated seeing you be sick, so one time you'd decided to make light of the situation. After chucking up for what felt like the millionth time you called Pedro to the bathroom. He came rushing to you but before he could say a word you cried "Hold my hairrrrr!!" in your best whiny Dieter voice. Pedro burst out laughing as he clearly hadn't been expecting that of all things.

"That's a good one," he chuckled as he did indeed hold your hair. "How long have you been waiting to do that?" You look up at him and giggle but it's cut short by another bought of retching, which of course Pedro helped you through with words of encouragement. "Just be glad I don't have to shit, too," you mumble into the toilet bowl causing another burst of laughter to erupt from him.

You smile quietly to yourself at the memory while smoothing over the arc of your bump. You can't believe that a woman can naturally grow so big and not burst, which takes you back to the time you'd gotten upset over your sudden weight gain....

After coming home from a much needed shopping trip for maternity clothes and larger everyday clothes you slump onto the settee to rest your aching feet while Pedro puts the kettle on. You miss coffee but it's better for the baby if you stick to tea for a while. It was just as good and definitely helped to relax you. Once the drinks were finished Pedro took the cups to the kitchen and started to prepare for dinner. "I'm gonna go put the clothes away," you called to him in the kitchen, to which he replied, "Don't be too long. Food will be ready soon."

Staring into your wardrobe, a lump forms in your throat and tears burn behind your eyes as you take in the sight of some of your favourite and much smaller clothes. The more items you remove, to be replaced with the new and larger (two sizes larger to be precise) clothes, the more you feel the dam about to burst. Fighting it is no good, what with the hormones and all, and in a matter of seconds you're a blubbering mess on the bedroom floor.

"Y/N...," Pedro calls up the stairs, "Food's ready." You quickly choke back your sobs as best you can and try not to sound like someone who's just been in the middle of a complete breakdown. "O-kay," you faltered unintentionally. Great, maybe he didn't notice. Oh, but he did notice. His hasty footsteps were a dead giveaway of that fact. Pedro appeared in the bedroom moments later, his brows pinched and deep chestnut eyes full of compassion. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?" he asked dolefully as he slowly lowered himself to the floor next to you, both of you surrounded by your old clothes.

You look up at him through red, puffy eyes. "I'm so f... fat!," you bawled while gripping one of your favourite tops. "I feel like a whale!" Pedro lets out an endearing huff. "What?... It's true!" Bwahhaha!... "Shhh..." Pedro coos into your ear as he takes you in his strong arms. "That's the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. You're not fat and you certainly don't look like a whale," he asserted as he holds your flushed and tear streaked face in his hands and looks directly into your eyes. "You're growing a brand new life in there," he says as he places a hand on your belly. "Of course your body will change and it's a good change."

"I just... can't see how you co...could be attracted to me right now," you wept while looking down. "What?!" Pedro asked incredulously. "Do you have any idea what it does to me seeing you carry and care for my baby?" Pedro wipes your tears away and you look up to meet his eyes once more. "You've never been more beautiful than you are right now, darling. Don't you forget that, okay?" Through calmer breathes you whisper "Okay."

Just as you got semi comfortable you realise you're now quite thirsty. With an annoyed eye roll and a huff, you roll onto your back and push yourself up to reach over for the glass of water on your nightstand. Maybe you moved a little too fast because as you put the glass down you suddenly feel a little light headed. It passed in literally a few seconds. This is nothing compared to the dizzy spells you had to endure a few months ago....

You woke with a start when your phone rang. It might as well have been a bloody foghorn with how it pierced the peace and quiet of the living room. It's Pedro. You haven't seen each other for a few weeks due to his filming commitments but you talk everyday. Swiping the answer button you groggily mumble, "Hello." Hey sweetheart," Pedro began cheerfully, "Thought I'd call you on your lunch break... You okay? You sound funny." "Yeah..." you answer sluggishly, "I'm fine." You know he'll never buy it. "What's wrong?" Pedro asks in an assertive but gentle tone. "Nothing...," you try to placate him.

"...They just sent me home from work because I was having dizzy spells." "Did you call the doctor?" Pedro interjects quickly, his voice laced with concern. You can almost feel his anxiety through the phone. "Not yet. I just needed to lay down for a bit. I'm actually feeling a bit better." Okay, that may have been a white lie but the last thing you want is to cause Pedro any unnecessary worry. But of course he's worried. "Why didn't you call me straight away?" Pedro pressed perturbedly. "I just didn't want to worry you," You answer with a hint of guilt.

"I'm coming home-" "Ped, you can't. You have an interview today-" "They'll understand," he insisted, firmly. "I'm on the next flight home." You know when he speaks in such a final tone that his mind is made up. "Okay," you relent, feeling like a burden, but you know he'd worry like hell if he didn't come back to you right now. Turns out you had low iron levels and low blood pressure. Pedro made you stay off work and re-scheduled his interview with Vanity Fair. He never left your side for the next couple of weeks while you recovered.

Your eyelids feel like they're made of lead but sleep still eludes you. Silently pushing up on your elbows, you peer over Pedro's shoulder at the alarm clock. 2:38 am. You lay back down on your side and your shuffling must have disturbed Pedro because now his arm has found it's way across your side, hand splayed on your back slowly pulling you into his broad body, tucking your head under his chin. He sighs in his sleep and his breathing evens out again as he settles back into slumber. Being wrapped up in the arms of the man you love is absolute heaven for you.

You lay a hand against his chest feeling the calm and slow movements of his thorax. With his arm draped over you it's impossible to not feel safe and protected. It feels like nothing in the world can ever hurt you and your child. Pedro's action's assured you of that when an overly enthusiastic fan verbally abused you one evening....

"The black Audi A6, please." Pedro handed the ticket to the valet as you both stepped out of the restaurant. After two weeks apart this date night is just what you both needed. The morning sickness had finally stopped by your seventh month and you'd been looking forward to this night all week. The clingy, thigh length, black maternity dress you'd bought especially for tonight hugged your bump and the curve of your hips perfectly. You actually felt attractive for the first time in months.

While waiting for the car you slip your hand into Pedro's and place a soft kiss on his shoulder. "Thank you for tonight. It's been perfect," you smiled warmly. Pedro let go of your hand to place his own at your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. "You deserve it, baby," he whispered as his lips brush your hairline. "And by the way," he adds while looking up and down your body, "You look incredible!" Even after all this time together he's still able to make you blush like a teenager. Before you can reply an excited squeal ruptures the still night air. "On my god! Pedro Pascal!" A young woman cries, unable to contain her elation.

She rushes over to you both with two more companions who are equally excited to meet Hollywood's hottest celebrity. The two girls and man couldn't have been older than their mid twenties. "Hi," Pedro smiled and tightened his grip on your waist. He's always been protective of you and now that you're having his baby that protective side has increased exponentially. "Can we have a photo, please!" The other girl asked with a huge grin. "Of course you can," Pedro chirped but didn't release his hold on you. You gently squeeze his hand while peeling it off your hip, a silent 'it's okay' and you excuse yourself to stand several feet away.

You're used to fans approaching, and you love to see how much Pedro's supporters adore him, and that his mere presence whips people up into a frenzy. You smile proudly in adoration, stroking your baby bump as you watch how much of a natural he is with his fans. "Thank you!" "We're huge fans!" "You're amazing!" "We love you!" The words are spilling out of their mouths at the same time, all talking over one another. "Aw, thank you so much, guys. That means a lot," Pedro replies, his beaming smile stretching from one cheek to the other.

While the women are still fussing, the man looks your way and then down to your rounded stomach. "Aww, baby Pascal," he burst vehemently. Suddenly he rushed at you, hands outstretched and a determined look on his face, "Can I feel?" The intensity from this stranger sent you into automatic defence mode for your baby. You step back, instinctively covering your belly just as he's about to grab you, permission or not! "Don't touch me!" you cautioned him, nervously. Pedro's head snapped from the women to your direction at the sound of your alarmed voice.

"Gee's Okay!" the man snapped at you irately. "I only wanted to feel. No need to be such a bitch about it!" He spat the word bitch out like he had a bad taste in his mouth causing your eyes to widen. "The fuck did you just say to her?!!" Pedro exploded as he stood between you and this entitled piece of shit. "Whoa... easy man-" the man stuttered in defence but Pedro cut him off. "You have no right to touch anyone against their will, especially a pregnant woman. And who the fuck do you think you are calling her a bitch because she said no?!" The man stared dumfounded. Pedro leaned in to the man's personal space, seething, "You'd better walk away while you still can!"

You've never seen Pedro this angry, literally shaking with rage, chest to chest with the guy, who looks like he's about to piss himself. His friends pull him away, scolding him in hushed tones and offering apologies to you both. "Baby?..." you soothed while stroking up and down Pedro's arm. He turns to you, chest heaving and still shaking but the moment he locks eyes with you his gaze softens, frown lines un-creasing and muscles relaxing. He wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head, languidly. "You're okay, darling. I won't ever let anything happen to you two." And he means that. You can feel the conviction of his declaration as if it were a physical manifestation.

You hadn't even realised you had fallen asleep until you were being jostled awake by a deep, concerned voice. "Y/N... Y/N, wake up." "Hmmm?" you groaned sleepily as you came to, feeling like you could smother Pedro with his pillow for waking you now! "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" annoyance and exhaustion seeped through your words. "Baby, I literally just dropped off!" "The bed's wet!" Pedro quickly replied. "What the?..." It was more of a realisation than a question as you looked down to see your shorts and the mattress completely soaked. "My water's have broken!" you gasp, looking wide eyed into Pedro's equally wide eyes. It's time....

Oh Daddy A Conclusion

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 2.4

2.1 || 2.2 || 2.3 || [here]

the final part of chapter two! it’s a bit shorter than the previous two parts, but it’s just as important. steve and robin meet the band!

i’ll post this chapter on ao3 tomorrow!

A few short days later found Steve and Robin handing the apartment keys over to Dustin and Will, the former needling them for information about where they were going and who they were working for. Will watched with something that was akin to smug satisfaction, grinning as Dustin’s theories got wilder and wilder. The only thing that Steve and Robin told him was that they were traveling and that Steve was a nanny.

“I just don’t understand why Will gets to know and I can’t!” Dustin had huffed, scowling as Steve reiterated that Will happened to be working when he and his boss had the interview.

Now, they were parked beside a black bus that wasn’t massive, but was definitely bigger than Steve and Robin’s RV, which made sense, as it was just him and Robin in the RV and four people in the bus. Five, if Chrissy stayed in the bus, but Steve wasn’t sure if she did.

“Mr. Steve!” Elodie screamed, running over to the omega. Steve huffed a laugh and caught her with a soft grunt as she leapt into his arms.

“Miss Elodie!” Steve exclaimed, much quieter than the pup had been. “Have you been good for your daddy?” he asked with a fond smile as he spun her around. She immediately scented him, pressing their cheeks together gently. His heart skipped a beat at the action, her soft, sweet pup scent filled his nose as he held her close.

“Yes!” she started proudly, “I ate all my breakfast even though I really wanted to see you! Daddy wouldn’t let us leave until I ate all the eggs.”

“That’s so good,” Steve indulged, cheeks hurting from the strength of his smile.

“Elodie! What did we say about scenting people?” Eddie asked, exasperated as he approached.

“It’s really no problem, Eddie,” Steve assured, biting back a laugh as Elodie echoed him.

“Yeah, Mr. Steve says it’s really no problem, daddy,” she spoke in a tone that relayed how silly she thought her dad was being. Steve squeezed her gently, already so fond of this little pup.

“It’s not polite, Elodie,” the alpha groaned, but smiled at the both of them. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I tried to tell her. She was so excited once someone,” he shot a pointed look to Chrissy, who looked only slightly remorseful, “let slip that we’d be seeing you today.”

Steve jostled Elodie slightly in his arms, bouncing her a bit. “It’s okay! We’re gonna be seeing a lot of each other, aren’t we, Miss Elodie?” he asked, grinning as she giggled and nodded. He looked back to Eddie with a softer smile, “I really don’t mind.”

“He doesn’t,” Robin piped up, startling Steve slightly. He’d forgotten she was there.

“That may be true, but I still don’t want her running up and scenting everyone she’s excited to see,” Eddie explained, reaching for Elodie to be passed over to him. Steve obliged, humming as he did.

“That makes sense,” he nodded, cooing soothingly as Elodie whined but allowed Eddie to take her. Immediately, she startled wiggling and trying to get down, and Eddie rolled his eyes as he let her down. She took off like a rocket towards where the bus was parked, and as they watched her run, Jeff, Gareth and Lewis appeared around the front.

Meeting the rest of the band went smoothly, Steve was especially endeared by Gareth, but that might have been because he looked a bit like he could be related to Dustin. He was a beta who had a lot of rage for someone so short, but mostly it was manic energy. He spent most of the time they were meeting each other playing with Elodie, whose giggles filled the air and settled something deep inside of Steve.

Jeff and Lewis were alphas, and were excited to meet them as well, their combined scents was that of s’mores and a bonfire, entertwined so deeply that for a while, Steve thought it was one scent. He spotted their matching mating bites and it suddenly made sense that their scents combined.

Overall, it seemed as though it wasn’t just Elodie that was excited to have Steve—and Robin—joining the crew. Robin and Chrissy were off doing god knows what (Chrissy was probably teaching Robin the ropes and Robin was probably not retaining any of the information because there was a pretty omega in front of her. Which, like, fair.), and everyone else was kind of off doing their own thing until they left in an hour.

Steve was stuck deciding between joining Eddie and Elodie at the park, and being responsible and continuing to plan lessons for Elodie when their classes started. He figured he could sit next to Eddie and still do work, so he grabbed his notebooks and planners and joined Eddie at the picnic table he had claimed for the time being.

“Steve! Hi,” Eddie greeted with a warm smile. Steve was glad to return the warm greeting, smiling shyly at the alpha.

“Hey, Eddie,” he said quietly as he started spreading the notebooks out.

“This reminds me of the days I used to spend planning D&D campaigns,” the alpha said bemusedly.

Steve hummed curiously, glancing at Eddie. “The pups I used to babysit loved that game, but I never really got into it,” he admitted, feeling his cheeks heat up. He could only hope that it wasn’t obvious how impacted he was by the alpha.

Eddie looked him up and down, causing Steve’s entire body to flush.

“I could’ve guessed, you don’t exactly scream ‘dungeons and dragons nerd’,” he teased with a wolfish grin, causing Steve to bite back a smile.

“Yeah? What do I scream to you, then?” he asked, already feeling his cheeks heat up even further.

Eddie looked him up and down again, Steve could almost feel the look as if the alpha were touching him instead of simply gazing at him. He suppressed a full body shiver at the feeling, hoping his reaction wasn’t noticeable. The alpha hummed, a deep vibrato that sent goosebumps scattering across Steve’s body.

“Middle school librarian,” he spoke at last, letting his gaze linger a bit longer.

“A middle school librarian?” Steve echoed, raising his eyebrows. He understood why a librarian—he was wearing a brown oversized knitted sweater with high waisted acid wash skinny jeans, and he had his glasses on. He could admit he was definitely giving off librarian vibes, but a middle school librarian?

“Yes,” Eddie confirmed, not elaborating further.

Steve opened his mouth, about to demand an explanation, before a small voice intereupted him.

“Mr. Steve?” Elodie asked, running up to him with bright brown eyes. Immediately Steve’s mind shifted into ‘teacher’ mode—which was really more ‘babysitter’ or ‘mom’ mode, if he was honest.

“Yes, Miss Elodie?”

“Will you push me on the swings?” she asked sweetly, smiling brightly up at Steve. Honestly, who was Steve to deny such a sweet request?

“Of course. Lead the way,” he said, standing to follow her. He didn’t bother asking Eddie if it was alright, figuring that he’d be spending a lot of time with his pup, so he’d be spending a lot of time doing things like this. It didn’t stop him from being anxious about Eddie’s gaze tracking them as he pushed Elodie on the swings, and eventually into some game or another that she invented as she went.

Every once in a while, their gazes would meet, and Steve would blush as he looked away.

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[seokjinsonlyone]

in which you're oblivious...

You looked at Taehyung oddly as he reached out to take your books from you but handed them over nonetheless; they were heavy and you were just a girl. “What are you doing here?”

“I was in charge of office hours today, so I did that. Then, I decided to get ahead on grading until you were finished studying.”

You screwed up your face once more. “Why would you do that?”

“So I can walk you home. I don’t like you being out by yourself so late.”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s 7:30, Tae. I’ve walked home by myself at this hour plenty of times.”

He shrugged. “Ehhh… It’s getting dark now. I don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it. It’s me walking, not you.”

“It’s us, now,” he corrected, gently nudging you so that he was on the outer part of the sidewalk and you were on the inside. “So, how was your day?”

You stopped in your tracks, a flash of irritation running up your spine. 

It took all of two steps for him to realize you weren’t beside him. He turned around to look at you sputtering in place. “What?”

“Can you quit it with all the consideration?” you snapped. No one’s minded you up until this point and you were used to it. You didn’t need Taehyung to jumble up your feelings with whatever weird kick he’s been on. Didn’t need to get used to him being around when he wasn’t going to stay.

You went to take your books back from him, but he quickly shifted them to one hand and used the other to catch your wrist. “Why?”

“Because,” you huffed, attempting to reach for your things again. He was stronger than anticipated. 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Because what?”

“Because,” you explained through gritted teeth, “I don’t respond well to kindness.”

“Well, I’m not going to quit it. I’m going to keep being considerate of you. I’m going to be extremely kind to you until you understand that that’s how you deserve to be treated; that that’s how I’ll always treat you. I’ve tried the subtle thing for months but you have got to be the most oblivious person in this entire world. So, now I’m going to walk you to class and I’m gonna buy you coffee and lunch. I’m gonna make sure you get home safe. I’m gonna text when you’re on my mind. I’m gonna tell you you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen everyday until you believe me. Until you finally get it through that thick skull of yours that I like you. That I’d love you if you let me.”

You stared at him for a few moments with your mouth agape, before taking a large gulp in an attempt to swallow back down your heart which had leapt into your throat three sentences into his monologue. You had no idea how to respond. Taehyung was objectively the most beautiful person you had ever seen and one of the sweetest people you’d ever met, so it’s not crazy that you completely missed his attraction toward you. It wasn’t something you ever even thought of entertaining, but you’d be insane to pass this up. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

You nodded and continued walking forward. A few seconds later a large hand slipped into yours. He brought your conjoined hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “So, how was your day?”

a/n: i've been so out of it lately idk if this makes sense. it's not much but ya know it's honest work 🤧

[itsouttherenow]

Team Mom: Kali

It was another day at Beacon within the dorm room of team RWBY. Their first year of Beacon went off without a hitch, mostly. Fighting mechs, criminals and terrorists is not something that you can really just brush or mention casually. So what is a girl to do on a Friday afternoon. What possible exciting activity could these adventurous girls do?

“GUYS! Mom is coming!” Entering the scene is our resident cat, Blake Belladonna. 

Sitting up from their respected beds, the rest of the girls quickly started firing off questions.

“When is she coming?”

“Are dad and Ghira coming too?”

“Snuggles?”

The last question had eyes drawn at Weiss. 

“Hehe, just, you know, asking.” She replied sheepishly.

“Aside from Weiss touch starved condition (HEY!), she said that she be coming soon to visit us here at Beacon. Tai and my dad are staying in a hotel in Vale for the time being.”

“Cool, what time is she supposed to be coming then?”

“She said around 6.”

“It’s 6 already! Why didn’t you call us instead?”

“Forget about that, we need to hurry. QUCKLY! THROUGH THE WINDOW!”

“No Yang wait I c-“, before Ruby could say otherwise, Yang had leapt through the window of their dorms

“We can worry about her later when we’re outside. The bullhead could be arriving any minute now.”

Using her semblance, Ruby quickly took the girls to the bullhead landing pads, picking up, more accurately digging up, Yang from her earthly confinement. They eventually made it to landing pads 5 minutes late.

“Do you see her?”

“No I can’t, I’m too short.”

“Blake, what about you,?”

“No. Yang?”

“Negative captain.”

“Where could she b-“

“YOO HOO! Girls, I’m over here!”

With Weiss question answered by their target, the four girls quickly rushed to a woman with similar cat ears to their feline friend. The woman was quickly enveloped in a group hug from the girls.

“Oh oh my, eager aren’t we today?”

“Why wouldn’t we? It’s been a sooo long since we’ve last meet you in person.” Replied Yang.

During a break in they second year, the WBY of RWBY meet Kali and Ghira Belladonna, the mother and father of Blake. There, the three girls quickly took a liking to Kali, considering she was the first real motherly figure that they have had in a while. While the three may be her daughters by blood, she treats them as if they were her own.

“(giggles) That is true. And we have a whole week to spend together!”

“(gasping) A WHOLE WEEK!?” Exclaimed Ruby.

“A whole week? What’s the occasion?” Inquired Blake.

“Why the parent conference. They’re going to  discuss on how our little ones are doing and behaving.”

“Well, it is with great pleasure to say that we have all been model students.” Booster Weiss.

“We’ll see. Now, how about you girls give a quick tour of the area. I don’t want to be getting lost.”

“Alright Team RWBY, let’s lead the way!” Yelled Ruby as she jumped into Kali’s arms.

“Ruby” chasted Weiss, “get off her. You are not a child!”

“I don’t mind dear. I’m quite comfortable.” Said Kali she nuzzled Ruby who laughed.

“(Laughs) Hey, that tickles.”

“Are you sure? I can take Ruby.” Offered Yang.

“Yes, I’m quite sure. In fact, I quite like it when you girls jump into my arms. Reminds of when Blake was a little kitten.” Answered Kali.

“If it’s alright with you, then I guess she can stay.” Said Weiss.

“Good. Now let’s go and give mom the best tour of Beacon!” Exclaimed Ruby.

“I’m looking forward to this ‘awesome’ tour girls.”

(Like break.)

An hour into their tour, Ruby had fallen asleep in Kali arms so it was up to the rest of the girls to decide on where to take her next. Walking underneath an arc way of vines and growth, they enter the gardens.

“And here” Weiss gestured around, “is the Beacon Garden. Used by most to study but many can often be found eating and aswell as hanging out.”

“My, how gorgeous.” Awed Kali as tucked Ruby closer to her body.

“Gorgeous indeed. This garden is actually the newest addition to Beacon, having been made thirty-seven years ago. Furthermore, th- (BOOM)- What In Monty’s name was that?” 

The answer to Weiss’s question came in the familiar form of Beacons resident dork Knight, one Jaune Arc, who was coursing throw the air, straight into a tree. After face-planting into said tree, his limp form sliding down onto a branch. 

“Ow. Note to self, make sure that Nora does NOT help in the kitchen *ever* again. *EVER*.” muttered Jaune to himself.

“wa-wa-what’s going on?” Ask an awoken Ruby.

“Just Jaune flying into a tree. Nothing new.” Answered Yang.

“Jaune? Blake, isn’t he the boy you mentioned to me? The blonde?” Asked Kali to her daughter.

Smelling blood, Yang seized the opportunity to tease her partner. 

“Oh, keeping secrets are we now? And here I thought we were family. I’m hurt.” 

Blushing, Blake whined, “Mom. I thought I told you to keep it between us.”

“Oh my Gods so it IS true. You’ve Fall for that dolt.” Exclaimed Weiss

“Well I think it’s sweet.” Chimed Kali.

A second later, said boy fell off the branch.

“Oh, this is a perfect time to talk to him dear. HELLO dear.” Yelled Kali out to Jaune.

‘What? Who is that. I didn’t know Blake had a si-‘

Jaunes thought we’re immediately cut short when the branch he was on earlier fell on top of him.

“Oh no. That branch just killed Jaune!” Yelled Ruby.

“You bastard.” Followed by Yang.

“No you dolts. He’s just knocked out.” Explained Weiss.

“My oh my. What a shame. He needs to be tended to. And who better to wake up than you pretty face dear.” Said Kali.

“No mom, you don’t mean-“ Questioned Blake.

“Yup. Let’s take him to your room. He’s needs to be well rested on a nice comfy bed. Next to a beautiful lady.” Kali said as she picked up Jaune.

“Mom no.”

“Mom yes” 

Blake was then handed an unconscious Jaune.

“Come along girls. The day just getting started.”

Three of the four girls ran to catch up with Kali as Blake just stood in place dumbfounded.

Looking down a Jaune, she blushes abit.

“Well, I guess it would hurt to give it a try.” And then placed a kiss on Jaunes forehead and quickly caught up the others 

‘That’s my girl. Grand kittens here comes Grandma.’ 

[underdark-dreams]

[ch1] - [ch2] - [ch3] - [ch4]

A Strand to Climb - Ch.5

Ramazith's Tower undergoes a change in management.

Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Oral Sex, NSFW | Word Count: 5.5k [Read on AO3]

Rolan had fought battles with Tav before. So why did he feel such a pit of anxiety in his stomach?

Perhaps fighting gave him too much credit. The goblin camp’s ambush on the Grove, the ghouls descending on Last Light Inn the very morning after she’d returned his siblings to him…they’d never really battled side-by-side before. He’d always found himself somewhat on the backfoot around her. 

Today would change that, and there was no more time for those past missteps. Lorroakan could put up a stiff fight when crossed; he was sure to be irate at being denied the Nightsong.

Dame Aylin, Rolan reminded himself. She was a person, after all, not another relic for an archwizard’s hoard.

The Weave required his total and complete concentration this morning. Anything less might put Tav in danger, and that was unthinkable.

As such Rolan spared no thought for the morning’s customers and their tedious inquiries. Most he directed straight back to Tolna, to her clear annoyance—he could practically feel her silent glare on his back. His body moved through the motions of helping the rest, not caring how rude or addled they might find him. His mind whirred away far above the mundane.

Well-worn incantations trailed through his mind like a mantra. Each one that he knew by heart suddenly seemed worth practicing another dozen times.

With his thoughts caught in a loop, the minutes crawled by at an agonizing pace. The sun took an eternity to climb above the low structures of the outer city. Just as Rolan began to wonder whether Tav might have put off the conversation with her allies, the unmistakable signal appeared just as she’d promised. 

A blinding, comet-like streak blazed across the sky. 

Rolan’s pulse leapt into his throat as he stared up through the vaulted windows of Sorcerous Sundries. The silvery trail of it shone supernaturally bright, even against the cloudless blue of midday. Its path pointed toward the Upper City.

There was a chorus of exclamations from the customers within the building, some delighted and many terrified. A few ran out the front doors for a better look. Out in the courtyard, the troupe performing their unimpressive magic show turned tail and ran mid-demonstration.

“What in—” 

A fleck of something molten singed his wrist—Rolan shook it away with a flinch. The dwarf hawking conjurement scrolls had disappeared into thin air on his right, leaving his lava elemental to shamble untethered toward the open front doors. Its trail of superheated liquid spread perilously close to the nearby bookshelves and alchemy chests. Rolan aimed a cantrip at the thing, just barely pushing it back into its containment runes.

Tav appeared the very next instant. Dressed for battle now, she led her companions in a dead sprint through the front atrium of Sorcerous Sundries. Her longsword swung already drawn in her hand.

“Now!” Her eyes pierced Rolan’s as she dashed for the stairs.

Rolan threw his work aside. He dipped to grab his quarterstaff from under the counter, then took off for the staircase to follow Tav and her companions.

Those few seconds passed like hours in his head. In a flash, the scene waiting for them above streaked through Rolan’s mind. He knew Lorroakan’s magic better than anyone—why the hells hadn’t he prepared her better for what to expect?

“Take out his Myrmidons first,” Rolan said in a rush as they took the stairs two at a time. “They’re Weave bound—grant him resistance—”

Rolan couldn't tell if she was listening. “Tav!” He heard his own voice shouting, and gripped the metal plates on her shoulder before she could step to the portal. “Don’t go near him until they’re dust, understand?” All the subconscious reasons why he’d avoided fighting next to her before were flooding back to him.

“Yes,” she said in clipped tones, but she spared him a fierce glance sideways. “We’ve taken worse.”

This isn’t about you, this is about me and my weakness and how I will go absolutely fucking mad if anything happens to you—

He wanted to shake the words into her, but there was no time. Instead, Rolan cast without thinking. 

Just before her other leg disappeared into the swirling void, his hand directed a strand of Weave out toward her, wrapping her in defensive magic. He felt the telltale sap of energy in his chest and knew his spell had landed.

Pitiful consolation—but it was what he could manage. Rolan breathed in and shouldered his way through the portal behind her.

Already breathless and disoriented, it took him a moment to come to his senses on the other side. Rolan blinked against the bright Upper City sunlight filling the Tower before catching sight of his master on the far side of the dais.

Dame Aylin had beaten them here. Tav and her companions rushed to flank her shining wings—Rolan followed, trying to note the positions of Lorroakan’s waiting Myrmidons while catching the tail end of the aasimar’s rebuke.

“—one good reason, magus, why I should not strike you down where you stand!”

Aylin spoke like the ancient and powerful being she was; her words hit Rolan’s ears with the weight of some kind of dreadful prophecy. They would strike fear into any sane mortal’s heart.

Naturally, Lorroakan showed no such inclination to humble himself. He preened, belittled, outright lied to Aylin’s face about the glowing runes traced into the floor behind him. The man’s audacity made Rolan’s blood run hot. In this moment, he felt painfully ashamed that he’d ever called himself his apprentice. 

Clearly, Aylin was not one to suffer such fools so easily. “A liar and a thief, desperate to stretch his miserable life with the Moonmaiden’s blood. Heretic—” Her feet left the ground as she rose into the air, righteously angry, her wingspan spreading behind her to cast a shadow on Lorroakan’s face.

Lorroakan’s eyes turned pale and cold as he watched her, and Rolan recognized the look as the one he saw before a blow was struck. 

“A shame,” Lorroakan sighed, shaking up the cuffs of his robe. His gaze fell on Rolan. “Boy, mind the runes—if she won’t go willingly, then the cage must be ready to contain her.”

Even now he was too self-important to note that it was Tav’s shoulder Rolan stood beside, not his former master’s. A laugh of absolute pity rose in Rolan’s throat.

“You ungrateful hellspawn—” Lorroakan’s eyes widened with rage at the sound. “Stand against me, and you will die with the rest!”

Lorroakan’s hands made the gesture of summoning. Behind him, Rolan heard the four corners of the room surge to life as the Myrmidons woke for their master. Tav’s companions drew steel and shouted a flurry of protective spells.

Rolan took his stance and reached out for the Weave.

—

“Not in range—!”

Too late to heed Wyll’s shout of warning, Lae’zel’s greatsword sliced down into the flaming Myrmidon on the lower stair. A hellish whip of fire lashed out in response. She turned just in time, catching the brunt of it against her pauldron, but a lick of flame sliced her cheek. 

Uttering a harsh Gith warcry, she vaulted bodily around the thing to refocus on the icy elemental swirling its way toward Aylin, leaving the other for the casters to handle. Gale launched a volley of magic missiles into the column of fire she left behind. Wyll’s Eldritch blast landed after like a small explosion, bursting the thing into dust.

Tav sliced in frustration at her own target. Every time her longsword cleaved the stormy Myrmidon in two, it seemed to reform nearly as powerful. 

She cursed herself for ever underestimating a wizard as vapid yet as cunning as Lorroakan. He’d be easy to take down on his own; the problem was getting at him. 

Lorroakan was protected up to the fucking gills, wrapped in elemental power from each of the Myrmidons he controlled. Rolan’s warning echoed in her head—their only course was to pick them off, one by one, until the wizard stood on his own.

Aylin was doing her damnedest, slicing and searing the two elementals nearest Lorroakan with the ferocity of survival. Rolan flanked her superbly, casting back anything that got close on her greatsword’s upswing.

This fight is just as personal for each of them, Tav realized.

Catching her momentarily distracted, the air Myrmidon conjured a gust of air that buffeted her backwards. She wobbled and clenched her legs beneath her, trying to keep her footing on the now spill-slick carpet. The awkward position forced her to thrust her heavy sword forward for balance.

The Myrmidon directed a surge of sparking energy at her. Whether or not it was aimed to, the bolt struck her longsword like a whip crack—lightning skipped and leaped from tip to hilt and rushed straight up to her neck.

Her sword arm spasmed involuntarily, agonizingly, from shoulder to fingertips. The numbing jolt was followed by searing heat that tunneled to her very nerves—the smell of burning flesh emanated from under her arm plates. She was screaming in pain before she recognized her own voice.

A sound she instantly wished she could call back. Rolan’s figure wheeled in panic toward her, turning his back on the archwizard.

No, her lips formed silently. Burning agony forced her wordless to her knees, though she wanted to yell in frustration at her own stupidity. Too many things were happening too fast; Lae’zel flew past with her greatsword held forward like a pike, battering the air Myrmidon away toward the railing with a precise rush. Aylin’s wings beat in righteous anger behind her as she shook her head with rage—the moonbeam circling her swelled with power, incinerating two more Myrmidons on her left and right.

But all Tav could see was the red wizard’s face twisted into a snarl behind Rolan’s shoulder, recognizing an opening and preparing to seize it. She forced air back into her lungs. “Rolan!”

She thanked every god listening that he somehow understood. Rolan turned back even as the incantation formed on Lorroakan’s lips—but the apprentice was quicker than his master.

Thunderous force erupted from Rolan’s extended palms. Shockwaves reverberated out like hot gusts of wind from a furnace, ruffling through her hair where she slumped, pushing rivulets of blood and sweat across her cheeks. The spell carved its path out toward Lorroakan in a crashing wave; his boot heels skidded against the floor like a ragdoll pulled back by a giant imaginary hand. 

Then Lorroakan hit the railing behind him with a sickening crack and toppled feet-over-skull, joined by the crackling Myrmidon nearby that was just barely caught in the blast of Rolan’s spell.

There was the echoing shriek of the archmage himself, shrill and disbelieving, followed by the clatter and crash of metal and stone many meters below them. No doubt the crush of Lorroakan’s body was muffled by whatever it had collided with—no living thing could have survived a fall of that force.

The rest of her companions had paused the battle to watch Lorroakan’s fall, even Aylin herself. But then Tav realized that, in fact, it was over. Their final two opponents had just toppled into the abyss below; the rest lay crushed to dust on the floor of the Tower. 

“Merlin’s beard,” Gale remarked in wonder. He was peering down over the edge of the dais where Lorroakan’s body had tumbled along with his conjure. “Who taught you how to do that?”

“I did,” was all the answer Rolan spared. His boots were already splashing through puddles and ash to where Tav lay slumped on her side.

He knelt beside her with barely contained panic on his face. “Where is it, your arm? I should have—” Rolan was casting around, clearly trying to conjure up some knowledge of healing magic.

The raw skin below her shoulder was throbbing and hot-wet with what she knew was blood; her tunic chafed like steel against sinew with the slightest movement. With effort, she unclenched her teeth enough to speak. “My p-pack—”

Rolan pushed away from her to where she’d dropped her belongings. Though turning her neck hurt far too much, she heard the clinking of bottles as he urgently rifled through it.

He knelt close beside her again, and his thumb uncorked the potion with one sharp nail. The taste was like honeyed wine as Rolan tipped it past her lips. She could feel the bloody skin of her arm sealing back together and unsticking from her tunic. Then a wave of calm swept the pain away with such force that her vision tunneled for a moment.

Her eyes cleared to land on Rolan’s face. All at once her chest was squeezed with guilt. He was the one whose whole world had just shifted on its axis in the space of a morning. He shouldn't have to nurse her just because her lapse in focus almost got her killed.

She pushed herself back to her feet without success. For a moment she feared that her muscles were permanently broken, but then she realized Rolan’s hand on her shoulder was holding her firmly to the carpet.

“Stay put,” he instructed sternly. “Give yourself a moment.”

“I'm fine,” she insisted. Her eyes traveled over him instead, checking for injuries. A cursory glance reassured her.

“Stop worrying about me—” Rolan was scowling at her in a way she found strangely comforting. “You’re the one who nearly lost an arm.”

She twisted said arm out from under her side, waving it experimentally to and fro until her shoulder plates jangled. “Still attached. See?”

“Only because—” Rolan cut himself off with an impatient huff. Before she knew it, his hands notched under her arms, and he hoisted her to her feet with surprising strength. He kept his grip there until she’d caught her balance.

Aylin swept toward the two of them, wings spread slightly behind her with the flush of victory. But the shine in her eyes was duller than Tav expected.

“Well fought,” she praised them nevertheless. “Both of you. I did not expect you to turn on your master so readily—” Aylin leveled her gaze down at Rolan. “But you proved yourself up to the challenge.”

Rolan dipped his horns to her slightly. “Lorroakan was never my equal in magic, let alone my superior. His plans for you only proved his utter foolishness. And his cruelty.”

“Then you are already wiser than he,” Aylin declared. “I am heartened to hear it. Perhaps you make a worthy consort for my steel-hearted friend after all.”

“Glad you approve,” Tav grimaced, praying none of the others had heard that. Beside her, Rolan coughed in a way that sounded strangely like a cover for laughter.

The subject seemed to amplify Aylin’s weariness, however—with a few parting words she flew the Tower to return to Isobel. Gale was at Tav’s shoulder in the next instant, and she could already read his face.

“I know, I know…Annals of Karsus,” she filled in with a sigh. Just once, she did wish for a moment to catch her breath. 

Gale at least looked apologetic. “More urgent than ever, I’m afraid.”

Rolan regarded the other wizard with sudden suspicion. “You’re researching Karsite magic?”

“To fight the Absolute,” Tav explained wearily. “Listen, I’ll tell you ev—”

“We may need Astarion’s help,” Gale interrupted in a single-minded rush, “unless there’s a path past the vault defenses.”

“Don't look at me.” Tav turned to look at her Tiefling. “Rolan’s the Master of Ramazith’s Tower now.”

Her own words sent a shiver down her back. Rolan seemed to feel something similar; he straightened his shoulders to his full height as they looked at each other.

“If it can help, take it,” Rolan decided. He unclipped a small rune hanging at his belt and tossed it into Gale’s hands. “Give that to Tolna, she’ll disarm the route for you.”

The shift in power seemed to ripple around the room like a tangible thing. Even Lae’zel, who had been standing on the sidelines in disinterest at the subject of magery, was drawn in. She cocked her head in her birdlike way.

“This is how the archwizards of Faerûn choose their successor? Whichever apprentice defeats their master in combat?” She jerked her chin. “Barbaric,” she added, decidedly approving of the practice. 

“That’s…” Gale raised a finger as if to counter, then took a rare pause. “We’ll discuss it on the way,” he finished.

In the same breath, the two of them headed for the portal and the vault below. Tav glanced to Wyll, who gave a nod of understanding and followed the others. She and Rolan were left standing alone in the middle of the Tower’s main floor.

The two of them glanced around in silence for a long moment. Under her boots, the fine carpets squished with a mixture of ice-melt, spilled sublimates, and shards of glass from shattered alchemy equipment. The stairs on all sides were dusted with piles of ash from destroyed summons. Early afternoon sunlight streamed in cheerily through the windows, as if unaware of the carnage that had just filled the place moments before.

“Nice place you have here,” she joked weakly. 

Rolan didn’t answer her. His face was tilted up toward the towering bookshelves rising to the ceiling. Abruptly, he walked up the stairs to one and plucked a random volume from the shelf. Then he let its spine slowly fall open in his hands. 

She followed after him with curiosity. There must be significance to the gesture, but she wasn’t sure what it was.

“I can read them,” he said down to the page, so low it was difficult to make out. “Every book in this tower…I can finally read them all.”

“You couldn’t before?” A unique form of torture for a mind like Rolan’s. Already, Tav was hit with another strong wave of satisfaction that Lorroakan was dead—a feeling she suspected would return many times over the next weeks and months.

“Cal’s going to love this,” he added with enthusiasm, replacing the book and tracing along the other titles. “This is the best library for leagues—not just books on spellcraft, memoirs and poetry too—”

“And Lia will love that the bastard’s dead.”

That made Rolan let out a laugh, his fang-like teeth glinting bright and sharp. He was handsomer than ever when he was happy like this. Without thinking, she leaned to plant a besotted kiss on his cheek. 

Rolan let out a satisfied hum and took her hand in response. She allowed herself to be gently pulled behind him as he headed for a delicate staircase spiraling upward against the north wall.

“Where are we going?”

“Not sure,” Rolan answered truthfully. “But there must be a bath up here somewhere. We’re both a mess.”

Even without glancing down at herself, she knew he was right. Blood and sweat and ash had soaked through the seams of her armor to coat unpleasantly over her skin.

They passed up several flights, up through floors Rolan remarked he’d never seen before. They included what must be an artificer’s workshop, filled with half-built metal constructs. Eventually they reached what was clearly the previous owner’s chambers. A massive four-poster bed stood against the far wall, rounded with arched windows overlooking the city. 

Tav felt a visceral urge to turn and leave the place immediately. But Rolan was surprisingly impassive, leading her with curiosity toward a small door in the corner. It swung forward with a touch, and they both blinked against the brightness as it latched behind them.

The room’s four walls were close-set but cavernously tall. Sunlight streamed in from the narrow windows many floors above, softly reflected by the pale polished marble of the walls. The space was nearly bright as day as a result. 

From some high point that her eyes refused to focus on, a sheet of water descended silent and smooth like the surface of a flat bubble. It seemed to flow straight into the marble tiles under her feet without a sound. Behind the shimmering surface an enormous soaking tub was built into the floor.

Intrigued, Tav shook off the gauntlet on her free hand and reached her bare fingers through. The water flowed quietly around them, closing back into a uniform sheet below as it disappeared into the floor. When she withdrew, it took her weary mind several seconds to reconcile the fact that her fingers were completely dry.

“Ramazith’s magic,” Rolan mused beside her. He was inspecting the flow of water above as though he could see the structure of the spell beyond it. Something beyond where her eyes could reach.

“You can tell one wizard's magic from another’s?”

“If you're familiar with their work. Ramazith’s research on conjuration is famous. When I was quite young, I dreamt of learning it from the man himself.” 

She watched Rolan’s face glass over slightly, and for a moment he looked very far away. Then his eyes flicked to hers. “He never wrote me back,” he explained simply. 

A memory that would do no good for him to dwell on now. She released Rolan’s hand instead, and began loosening the ties of her plate armor. 

They undressed beside each other without speaking. The only sounds were the echoes of metal falling against marble as she shed each section of armor to the floor. Rolan’s layers were much faster to make work of; when he was down to just his trousers, he turned her around to undo the tricky buckles behind her neck and shoulders. 

Eventually all of their clothes lay discarded in piles around them. She shook her hair down around her face, feeling strangely shy—not because of Rolan, but at standing covered in blood and grime in the most lavish and spotless bath she’d ever seen. She quickly passed under the quiet sheet of enchanted water, and Rolan followed.

When Tav’s dry feet met the bottom of the basin, steaming water poured up rapidly from the carved stone itself and pooled well above her knees. She sank down into it with a grateful sigh, letting the water’s surface graze her chin. It was heavenly.

“Did I mention I love you,” she groaned, eyes closed.

“I can always stand to hear it again.” Water rippled against her neck, and then she was being drawn back against Rolan’s ridged chest. She settled contentedly against him and folded his arms around her own. 

Soaking her worn muscles in a hot bath, feeling Rolan’s ribcage rise and fall steadily against her back—it was enough to feel utterly at peace for a moment. The steam rising around them was lightly scented with something fresh and herbal. 

Balsam, she realized, which would account for the speed at which her aches and pains were dissolving away. The thought brought back a memory that made her smile to herself.

“You told me once that I smelled like balsam.”

“It’s always reminded me of you,” Rolan agreed, his voice humming between her shoulder blades. “Why is that?” He added, curious.

“Cheap way to patch yourself up,” she said. “We needed a lot of patching up in those days.”

Rolan settled her more comfortably on his lap. “I remember the first day we met. You were absolutely plastered in goblin blood from head to foot.”

“And I remember the look on your face…you were absolutely appalled,” she laughed, leaning her head back against one of his shoulders.

“It was quite shocking.” Rolan’s hands traced her arms under the water. “But sexy, in a way.”

“Is that what does it for you?”

“Yes.” Not bothering to deny it, he leaned down to kiss the juncture of her neck.

“Interesting,” she mused. “Maybe I should get into fights more often.”

“Though I admit, I much prefer you like this.”

“Naked in your bath, you mean?”

“Precisely.”

She turned with a laugh, straddling his legs to sit facing him. It came as only a mild surprise to find the old bruises on his face had faded away from the medicinal steam. Rolan rested his hands on her hips under the water, gazing at her from under his lashes with those flame-gold eyes. 

She carded her wet fingers through his hair, tugging out its leather tie on the way. “You’re going to be absolutely insufferable about this, aren’t you.”

“About what?”

“All of it,” she answered, reaching past him for a bar of soap and lathering it between her hands. “Having your new tower all to yourself—” She massaged the lather into his scalp, dipping his head back slightly to better soak his hair. “Being Master Rolan now—”

Rolan closed his eyes with a deep inhale, letting her tug his head this way and that as she gently scrubbed at his wet hair. “Please don’t call me that around other people.”

“Why?” She asked, working her fingers up from his nape to back behind his horns. “You don’t like it?”

“I like it too much,” Rolan clarified, and though he kept his eyes shut, she thought his cheeks were flushed a deeper burgundy than usual.

“Ah.” She tugged his wet hair back a bit rougher than was necessary, dipping to nibble on the tip of one of his pointed ears. “So what you’re saying is, definitely call you Master Rolan when Cal and Lia come to see the Tower—”

With a splash that almost certainly soaked their clothes on the floor, Rolan flipped their bodies to land her up on the edge of the bathtub, back pressed against the cold marble of the wall.

“Insolent woman.” Rolan slung one of her calves up over his shoulder. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth descended hot between her legs.

With a gasp that echoed around the space, her head fell back against the wall. She clutched a fist into his wet hair, panting as the flat of his tongue smoothed up and parted her folds. “Fuck, Rolan—”

He only gripped her hips tighter in response to his name, sharp claws dimpling into her wet skin, tilting her up and open for his exploring tongue. When he plunged it between her folds and licked a curling shape upward inside of her, the tip of his nose brushing her clit, she groaned and shook against him and clenched her knees around his face to keep him there. He lapped at her eagerly in response, slinging her other leg up across his shoulder to join the first.

Seated against him for balance, she found her own very much thrown off. She clutched both his horns to steady herself, panting at the way his tongue swirled over her.

When the tip of his tongue hit her clit, she keened and arched her back into his mouth. “Right there—Gods—”

Rolan groaned involuntarily at the way she gripped his horns and ground herself against his face, seeking more of his hot and eager tongue against her peak. The sound only sent another shuddering wave of stimulation to her core. 

His fingers gripped her with bruising force now as she rocked herself against his mouth, tugging his horns with an insistence that only seemed to spur him on. One of his hands curled over her wet thigh to use thumb and forefinger to spread her open. As he did, his lips closed over her clit to roll her in circles with his tongue.

Tav’s legs clutched and spasmed around the dagger points of his ears. Her balance nearly slipped against the wet stone under her—Rolan firmly pressed her back against the wall, holding her steady as she twitched and came under his mouth.

Shaking and off-balance, she leaned completely into his grip as waves of release clenched through her belly. Hot tears of sudden relief rolled down her cheeks, and she scrubbed a hand across her face before he could see them. Her other hand held tightly onto the ridged curve of his horn.

When she finally floated back down to her body, Rolan had slipped her legs down back into the warm water. He kissed a gentle path across her stomach, where the muscles of her core still ached and fluttered from her climax. The loose ends of his hair tickled her inner thighs.

Limp and spineless, she let her body slide back under the water to coil sideways on Rolan’s lap. Her chin landed heavily over his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him. A handful of warm water was poured over the crown of her head. In the back of her hazy mind, she realized he was quietly washing her hair for her in turn.

To her embarrassment, more tears streamed down her cheeks, rolling to patter against his shoulder. She hoped he couldn't tell the difference from the rippling bathwater. When a snuffle caught in her throat, she knew she’d given herself away.

“I'm so—tired—” She choked out, feeling very foolish for ruining such a rare lovely moment in a lovely place. But the tears still leaked out the corners of her eyes. 

“Then stay here and rest a while,” Rolan told her, his nails gently scrubbing her scalp. He sounded remarkably unbothered by her reaction.

“I can’t,” she groaned into his shoulder. “I have so much to do—the Vault—”

“Maybe I can help,” Rolan replied, resolutely dumping more trickles of water to rinse out the soap. “For one thing, why in hells do you need a book on Karsus?”

Tav squeezed her eyes shut; she felt a jumble of words boiling up in her chest. 

“Rolan…the Absolute is actually a giant, ancient, angry Elder Brain chained up deep under the city. And Gale thinks it’s wearing the Crown of Karsus, and that’s how Ketheric and Gortash and Orin are managing to control it, with these Netherese stones…only now Ketheric’s dead and we have his stone, so the containment’s breaking. And it’s going to go free and absolutely lay waste to the Sword Coast unless we get to it first.”

Rolan was very still against her as everything poured out. Then his fingers smoothed her wet hair back. “That doesn’t sound like a problem we can solve today,” he said decidedly. 

“But I have—”

“Tav.” Rolan’s arms drew her away firmly. Unable to escape his gaze now, she nevertheless hung her head, ashamed for him to see her red-faced and weeping like a child. “You’re making mistakes. You nearly got yourself killed just now. If I hadn’t put mage armor on you, you might’ve lost your sword hand.”

She stared up at him. “But that spell doesn’t work if you’re wearing plate,” she blurted out.

“That’s not the—” He shook his head impatiently, as if she was changing the subject on purpose. “The point is you can’t help anyone if you’re dead. And if you keep going like you have been, you might get yourself that way. Do you understand?”

He let her lean forward to rest her cheek against his shoulder. “You’re one to talk,” she mumbled, feeling rather defeated nonetheless.

Rolan wrapped an arm around her back. “It’s not easy to ask for help,” he agreed quietly. “But there’s no need for you to do this alone anymore. It’s reckless, for one thing. And you have allies.”

She kept her face tucked against his neck, feeling his pulse against her lips, and thought on it.

“Do you think I’m weak?”

“What?” She raised her head to look at him. “Rolan, you’re…you’re honestly one of the most determined people I’ve ever met.”

Rolan examined her expression for a moment. One of his hands worried little circles into her back underneath the water. “I haven’t felt that way,” he told her. “I’ve felt stupid and ashamed for weeks. After everything, when you came to the city—” His voice broke slightly, and he looked up at the ceiling to continue. 

“I didn’t want to see you. I didn’t want you to see me. After all the times you’ve helped me and my family, I couldn’t bear for you to see me at my worst all over again. It was painful,” he decided. His gaze tipped back to meet hers. “And now it’s better. You’re strong, and you’ve helped me. So let me help you, Tav. It doesn’t make you weak.”

She leaned in to kiss him. Hands through his hair, she pulled his mouth against hers, pressing their lips firmly together.

When they broke apart, she kept Rolan’s jaw held between her hands. A trickle of water ran from his hair down across his temple. 

“I’m absolutely in love with you,” she declared.

As she watched, Rolan’s damp and freckled face split into a charming grin, the sharp tip of one fang notching over his lip.

“I know.”

[writethrough]

something fluff for morpheus x reader but as lord meowpheus, since reader loves cat and she's sad, he tries to cheer her up. thank u <3

Kitty Comforts

(Morpheus x Gender-Neutral Reader)

Warnings: Language, Lord Meowpheus

Word Count: 739

A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you don't mind that I put my own little spin on this by making the reader allergic. I figured, "write what you know" for this instance. And I thought the idea of Morpheus being the only cat the reader could be around was kinda cute. I hope you enjoy!

You’d been awfully quiet today. It wasn't your usual quiet either. Not the one that gave him soft smiles and trailed your fingers against him when you passed. It was defensive quiet. One that hunched your shoulders ever so slightly and kept your gaze from meeting his.

Morpheus knew that, on occasion, certain stimuli would overwhelm you: the beep of the microwave, the sunlight, the eyes of others—it all surrounded you, and you didn’t know how to react. You didn't fight until you were at your breaking point. You didn’t flee because you didn’t want to draw attention to something you couldn’t explain until it was over. You froze.

And Morpheus could feel it.

The shift in energy from you. How you sat in the armchair instead of beside him. How you faced the window, leaning against the armrest, your head pushed into the back to muffle some noise.

He didn’t know how to pull you out of this. He wanted nothing more than to see your smile and feel your embrace, but he knew that would only make things worse. Even him sitting here made you uncomfortable.

It was only him—the one you adored most—and he was causing discomfort simply because he was an additional body in the room.

But he didn’t have to be.

Once, you’d told him how much you wanted a cat.

When he inquired why you didn’t get one, you told him you were allergic.

Perhaps it was time he granted that long-held wish.

—

You weren’t sure how long you were in this chair. Time moved excruciatingly slowly and rapidly.

Morpheus had arrived, and it was like a switch amplified every nerve-ending.

Everything aggravated you, annoyed you—made you want to scream and run and cry, but you didn't do anything. You only sat there and tried to make yourself as small as possible.

You wanted to look on the bright side—you really did.

Morpheus didn’t make noise. He was the most silent person you knew. If you didn’t look at him, it'd be like he wasn’t there.

But he was. You knew he was. And the fact that you didn’t want to look at him or talk to him frustrated you more.

You loved him. Nothing could change that. But you were just so fucking overstimulated that if you did anything other than what you were now, you’d explode, and you weren’t sure how.

So, when a dark-as-night cat leapt onto the armrest you were facing, you may have short-circuited.

You stared at one another. You: confused, and the cat patient, waiting for something.

Yet, it was like you’d seen it before. Those eyes. They held intelligence—pools of a night you could lose yourself in.

And that’s when you looked to where Morpheus had been seated.

It was empty.

And now, there was a cat.

“Morpheus?” you whispered.

The cat bowed its head slightly, its tail swishing when it rose.

Then for the first time that day, you let out an incredulous laugh.

“Holy shit,” you breathed.

His paw tentatively touched your knee. When you didn’t push him away or say anything, he balanced himself on you, stepping carefully to circle and settle in your lap.

Your bent knees squished him some, but he didn’t mind, especially when he rubbed his head against your chest and purred.

You scratched along his neck and behind his ear, marveling at how soft his fur was.

“Pretty kitty,” you mumbled, receiving a soft meow.

You sat like that for some time, calmed by the paths you drew on his feline body. His fur was denser than his hair. And he somehow felt less...invasive. Like he was actually just a cat that had sensed your frazzled mind.

When you kissed the top of his head, he knew you’d been released from that state—at least from the all-consuming intensity of it.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling.

His paws rested on your shoulders, his pleasure evident in how he nuzzled his head into your neck.

“Would you…Would you mind staying like this a bit longer?” you asked.

He answered by curling back up in your lap, looking at you expectantly.

You began your patterns again, both of you relaxing.

When the time came for Morpheus to go back to the Dreaming, his human form returned. And before his sand could whisk him away, you kissed him, deep and sure and grateful. And a promise to see each other soon.

[thatcheesyler]

Working on a lee!Striker, lers!Fizzarolli and Blitzø fic, so uh..lmk what you think so far 🫠

Just Clownin' Around (WIP)

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

Some say that singing a whole ‘fuck you’ song to your boss and then quitting your job while saying goodbye in a surprisingly good impression of your boss's accent might not be the best thing for one's mental health. But why should Fizzarolli care? He's thriving in Hell with his huge boyfriend and rekindled childhood friend, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, since the whole thing with Mammon, Fizzarolli had a bit of a thirst for more revenge gnawing at the back of his mind, thinking about all of his and Blitzø's shared enemies, and how much he'd like to see them bleed. Of course, when he told Blitzø about this vengeful fantasy of his, the other imp was more than enthused about getting some sweet, sweet payback. After all, Blitzø's company had been a bit short of the thrill of homicide lately, anyway.

So it was settled, the two imps would meet up at a bar and discuss the finer details.

-Lil’ time skip-

“Hmm…but which one do you think deserves to be hunted first? Striker, or Crimson?” Fizz asked, taking a sip from the straw in his glass of Beelzejuice. “Well, Crimson may be a bit off limits anyway, Mox probably wouldn't want his big daddy to get hurt unless it was by his doing.” Answered Blitzø, absentmindedly tracing one of his fingers along the cracks in the wooden bar counter top.

So that just left Striker…”But, that western cocksucker is most likely the only thing stopping Stella from killing Stolas herself. Plus, I promised Loony that I wouldn't kill anyone today because it’s her birthday.” He continued, going silent for a while, just in case Fizz was brainstorming and didn't want to be interrupted. And apparently, he was.

“..Wait, he's super self-confident. Which means, all we have to do is exploit a weakness that's embarrassing enough to catch him off guard, and threaten to blackmail him with it. Right?” It wasn't a terrible idea. But, what the hell kind of a weakness would have such an effect on a guy like Striker?

Contemplating his inquiry, Blitzø skimmed through his memories with Fizz, trying to pinpoint any specific events that involved embarrassing weaknesses that an imp would have..and wouldn't you know it, the murderous imp finally came up with a reasonable suggestion.

“Ey, Fizz, remember when we'd have those stupid dares where we'd take turns in watching each other perform, and then point out any flaws afterwards by..tickling the other person in a way that accommodates to those flaws?” Blitzø commented, smiling slightly at the fond memory, but a little flustered about the topic as he was usually the more flawed one when performing. Thankfully though, the other imp only really picked up on the main idea that he was putting down, a wry smirk now building up on his face at the thought of using this against Striker.

“It's perfect! We won't hurt Striker, but if we record him being humiliated like that, we could threaten him with the blackmail of posting the video!” Fizz replied cheerfully, slamming down a $10 bill on the counter before gripping Blitzø's arm and yanking him out of the bar. Fizz dragged him eagerly all the way down to the Wrath ring, ignoring the whiny protests that spewed from his friend's mouth like gunfire and instead focusing on tracking down Striker, while keeping his phone safe so that they can record the whole ordeal when it happens.

Sure enough, the two eventually stumbled into the weird cavern that Striker called his home, making sure to keep quiet as they leapt behind the nearest boulder. Breathing out groans of pain between whistling a casual tune, the cowboy in question was currently standing near the unrealistic statue of himself and cleaning up his burn wounds from when he tried (and failed) to kill Fizz.

“Hey, you think you can do that introduction thing that Robo Fizz did? It might be fun.” Blitzø whispered to his friend, who, in response, nodded and took a deep but silent breath.

“Hiya kids, it's me, the lovable Fizzarolli!” Fizz started, jumping up onto the boulder they were hiding behind and watching as his voice startled Striker a little.

“Say, would anyone here like to play a game with me?! It'll be so fun, I can guarantee it!” While the cowboy demon scowled and reached for his angelic gun, Blitzø shot a bullet of his own towards said gun, making it inaccessible as the two former clowns suddenly launched at him.

It took quite a hassle, but eventually they managed to pin Striker to the same part of the train tracks that Stolas had been restrained against a while ago. They then tied his arms down either side of his head with his own angelic rope, doing the same for his legs and tail. “You two fuckass clowns ain't gettin’ away with this. I will get my vengeance, just you little fellas wait..” Striker sneered, allowing a brief dark chuckle to sleep through his teeth afterwards. To which Fizz and Blitzø both looked at each other with unbothered expressions.

Setting up his phone on a nearby rock, Fizz pressed the ‘record’ button and began speaking like the whole thing was a vlog.

“Hey there, all you imps, sinners, overlords and deadly sins! Today, we have a very western guest with us. Say hi, Striker!” Fizz announced, moving out of the way so that the recording showed a clear view of the cowboy, bound helplessly to abandoned train tracks and frowning spitefully all the while.

“Go fuck yourself.” Was the only thing that Striker planned to say for most of this. Unfortunately, things never seem to go according to plan for him. “Only off camera. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” Blitzø responded, smiling along with the other clown imp.

“You're a selfish bitch that only cares about money. Understandable, however, fucking up my only ticket to the human world and then also trying to kill my friend, that's not as excusable. So, we're gonna return your ‘favour’ by humiliating you and then blackmailing you with the recording of it. Sound good? Good!”

Before Striker had gotten a chance to respond, Fizz had started talking again, reverting back to his show voice for this next part.

“Earlier I asked if you wanna play a game. And now, we're gonna play whether you like it or not! The game is called...’Don't Laugh’~!” Upon saying the name of the game, Fizz lifted his robot arms up to shoulder height and bent his fingers into claws, wiggling them simultaneously to give a hint as to what was about to happen, with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.

The cowboy tensed, it was subtle but it was noticed, now slightly struggling against his binds as the reality of this ‘game’ began to fully sink in. “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me..” Striker murmured, feeling a few butterflies swarm in his stomach, something that had rarely ever occurred before. He despised the way the sensation affected him, making his body twitch in anticipation whenever someone made even the smallest movement, making him feel vulnerable, making him feel weak.

“Tch, and what kinda sick pleasure will it bring ya this time? Y'know, since everythin’ appears to be a sex thing with you two.” He remarked with a tiny smirk, clearly aiming to piss them off some more, despite his better judgment and the fact that it was just going to make everything worse for him.

Dammit, even those weird ass mini singing imps were here to watch.

His attention was yanked away, however, as Blitzø's hand then reached out towards him, and he tensed up once more, instinctively sucking his stomach in. But, the imp merely grabbed the cowboy's hat and placed it on his own head, earning a ‘seriously?’ look from both of the other demons, and an extra eye roll from Striker, who was getting fed up with this. But then Fizz's voice sounded out again, still speaking as if the whole thing was a scripted performance. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's time for the game to start! Alright cowboy, are you ready?!”

“Listen, I don’ know what you jester twinks are plannin’ to accomplish with this, but I can assure ya, you ain’t gon’ pull a stunt like this again once I get my reve-HENGE!!” Striker's threat was abruptly cut off by the overwhelming sensation of a robotic hand squeezing his side experimentally, his voice raising up to a slightly embarrassing high pitched tone as this happened.

The cowboy attempted to recover by clearing his throat and forcing back the anticipatory nervous smile, refusing to let his captors feel like they were winning. Said captors, however, now adorned ear-splitting smirks that caused the butterflies in Striker's stomach to temporarily double, a few more harsh tugs being acted out on the angelic restraints. “I said ‘are you ready?’, not ‘bore us with monologue’. But still, at least people on Sinstagram will enjoy the bickering. But seriously, don't laugh!” Fizz replied smugly, refocusing his attention on the imp's outfit.

There were a few scorch marks on his shirt that didn't burn through the fabric, so of course, Fizz decided to fuck around a bit and trace ever so gently over those marks, relishing in the way it made Striker flinch and gasp quietly. Yet, his resolve held true, the scowl on the cowboy's face didn't budge, but not did the angelic rope, unfortunately for him.

“Alright it's my turn, move over bitch!” Blitzø demanded, playfully shoving his friend out of the way and cracking his knuckles, before starting to spider his fingers along Striker's sides. This time, it resulted in a wobbly grin showing through for just over a millisecond, the ticklish sensation making Striker wriggle away from the pursuing hands with a bit of desperation.

[basketballanonsblog]

Posting this 3 days early because who cares about the schedule right? 🫠

Jeongyeon x Reader: soulmate AU

A sprinkle of Motzu at the beginning

Synopsis: You're slowly learning to love life again

Reason to love

"Tzuyu, relax. I'm sure Momo will love whatever you'll do for valentines day."

The youngest of the group sought out advice, going on a tangent about different ideas. She stopped pacing around and took a deep breath.

"You're right. What are your plans for y/n tomorrow?"

"Nothing extravagant, just a surprise picnic."

"Y/n unnie will love it nonetheless."

The maknae's words made Jeongyeon feel better than she'd like to admit.

-x-

You stretched your arms before opening your eyes. Looking left, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the love of your life.

It was extraordinary. No matter how many tales you heard about what it's like to find your soulmate, it paled in comparison to the actual feeling.

You wouldn't complain if Jeongyeon was the only person you could look at for the rest of your life.

Seeing her barefaced and serene, you silently vowed to do everything in your power to protect her.

"I can feel you staring." She said without opening her eyes. You became bashful, leaning down to press kisses to her cheek until she squealed.

"How can I not stare? You're so beautiful."

"Even if I just woke up?"

"Yes."

"I'll only believe you if you kiss me."

You didn't hesitate to obey, and you felt her arms encircle your shoulders. For all you knew, an hour could've passed. But unfortunately, the real world was calling.

"I wish I could stay in bed with you, but I have to go to the office."

That was the first Jeongyeon was hearing of this.

"I thought you were free today?"

"Why?" She realised you were unaware it was valentines day.

"Nothing. Have fun at work." Was she disappointed? Definitely, but she understood that your job was important.

-x-

You chewed on the end of your pen whilst looking out of the window. The shift in Jeongyeon's demeanour bothered you.

Have you forgotten something? Your two month anniversary was all you could think of, but that was still over a week away.

Mina will know, you decided. Popping your head out the door you called to your friend.

"Mina! What's special about today?"

She was taken aback by your abruptness but recovered swiftly.

"Um...valentines day? Chaeyoung is taking me out to dinner tonight."

Oh.

"Thank you."

You practically slammed the door, and Mina laughed when you exclaimed "y/n you idiot!"

-x-

Jeongyeon walked towards your office with the picnic basket. She almost abandoned the idea since you were clueless about today's date. However, you sent her a text asking her to stop by because you've cleared out most of your afternoon schedules.

"Y/n didn't mean to forget." Mina said after they greeted each other.

"She's never celebrated valentines day before." Now that, Jeongyeon didn't know, making her frown.

"But, y/n is 219 years old."

"Yes. She detested the idea of celebrating many things alone, such as her birthday and valentines day. Over time, they became like any other day."

She was saddened to hear that. Anyone who loves as deeply as you do doesn't deserve to bear the weight of loneliness.

"Don't let me keep you. It's just her in there, so you can walk straight in." Mina snapped Jeongyeon out of her thoughts.

You were sitting on your desk when she entered, and you held her close once she was within reach.

"I'm sorry, my love. I'm still getting used to the fact that I finally found the person I can share my life with."

You rested your head against her chest. "Please be patient with me."

"Of course, baby." She combed her fingers through your hair while you basked in the comfort she exuded.

"I hope you don't mind, we have a visitor for lunch."

"Who?"

You stood upright, motioning for Jeongyeon to face the door.

"3, 2, 1..."

A little girl ran into the office, laughing.

"Hi Miss y/n!" She leapt into your chair, spinning around.

"Hey Eun-ji." She spun around for a couple of times before realising Jeongyeon was there too. Her eyes narrowed in curiosity causing Jeongyeon to waver slightly at her gaze.

Since when are children this intimidating?

"Hello, I'm -" She attempted to break the ice.

"You're Miss y/n's angel!"

Her what?

"Eh?"

Eun-ji picked up the photo of Jeongyeon you kept on your desk.

"I saw this, and Miss y/n said you're her angel."

"Did she now?" She smirked at you, making your ears turn red. You sheepishly rubbed your nape and cleared your throat.

"Lunch! Let's go, I'm hungry." You let Eun-ji jump on your back while you grabbed the picnic basket; avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend.

-x-

Jeongyeon slipped her hand in yours while the pair of you watched Eun-ji play in the park, the food long gone.

She knew you received your fair share of demons over the years, but she admired how you tried your best not to let them consume you.

"How did you meet her?"

"I shouldn't say too much, but something terrible happened to her, and I'm the prosecutor for this case. Trials can be hard enough to begin with, but it gets a whole lot more complicated when you add a child. It's my responsibility to make sure she's prepared, and despite being professional, she's somehow grown attached to me."

"Like you can't say the same." She teased.

"Perhaps." A hint of a smile appeared.

"It's understandable. I feel calm when I'm with you, and I'm guessing it's the same for her. No matter how aloof you try to act, there's just something inherently... warm about you."

The little girl reappeared, urging you to accompany her. You didn't resist as she pulled you to the playground.

Affection swelled within Jeongyeon as she watched Eun-ji, and you run around.

"There are those butterflies in my stomach again." She whispered to herself.

And if for a moment she imagined a future of you running around with a little one of your own, then she'd never tell.

Eun-ji joined her eventually, resting against her on the bench.

"Are you tired now?"

"A tiny bit, but I'm having fun with you and Miss y/n!" She tucked her hair behind the girl's ear and gave her a bottle of water.

"Jagiya!" You called out, catching both of their attention. "Watch this!"

You jumped, grabbing the monkey bars, before flipping your body around, making you hang upside down.

"Y/n unnie is silly." Eun-ji giggled at your antics.

"She is, isn't she? Stay here for a minute, sweetheart. " Jeongyeon made her way to you, bringing a smile to your face.

"Is Eun-ji okay?" The pair of you looked at the girl, who waved back.

"Yeah, she's just tired." Your girlfriend couldn't take you seriously as you were upside down.

"You know, it's hard to believe you're over two hundred years old when you're being playful like this."

"Be honest, honey, you love it." Her expression softened, and she couldn't resist leaning up slightly to kiss you.

"I do."

God...you'd never get tired of her kisses.

"You always make me feel lightheaded, my love."

"That's not me, silly. It's just the blood rushing to your head."

"I'll only get down for another kiss." You stuck your lips out, making Jeongyeon laugh.

"No chance!" She walked back to Eun-ji, leaving you upside down and pouting.

-x-

The sun was setting, and the little girl was asleep against your shoulder as you carried her. You looked to your girlfriend, whose hand was intertwined with yours.

It all felt a bit domestic, to be honest, but you didn't mind one bit.

"Jeongyeon, I'm sorry." You blurted out, causing her to face you so quickly, but you froze for a second, feeling nervous.

"What for honey?"

"I know this wasn't how you envisioned spending our first valentines day together. I'm trying my hardest to be better, to learn that I shouldn't constantly shut people out. Especially you. Jeongyeon, you have turned my world upside down, and I love you so much for that. Because of you, I'm beginning to find joy and love in the things I've ignored for so long. You're my reason to live, and I want to share every facet of my life with you."

Tears pricked the corner of her eyes during your mini heartfelt speech.

"Oh honey, I never doubted you. I see that you're trying your best, and I appreciate it more than you can imagine. You're right. This isn't how I imagined the day would go. But honestly? I wouldn't change a single thing about it."

"Really? So you were still... happy today?"

Jeongyeon stepped closer to you, being careful not to awake the girl before kissing your forehead.

"The happiest."

[thirstydiglett]

Heyas, if you need some thoughts to help your mind spaces, I'm happy to help.

Hmm... Let's see... How about a fluffy Buggy x reader story where they end up buying the same gift for one another? I can Buggy being a little sad about it in a "how do we tell which is which" sort of way and the reader does something to make one obviously theirs or his and it's just sweet and low stakes.

Have fun with it - what the gift is, what flavor the reader is, you can even take it a different route if inspiration strikes ^_^ 🥰

ITS HEREEEEEEE

Ended up going Shuggy with this one just because I find their relationship both fascinating and relatable, and apparently inspiration did indeed strike because it’s almost 4K words 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

I’ll be posting this on my Ao3 as well (look for corazon_lived), check it out there if you want!

———————————————————————-

Build Me Up

Summary: Buggy’s always being forgotten on Roger’s crew. Except by Shanks…

Pairings: ShanksxBuggy (could be read as platonic, but its not supposed to be)

Warnings: Long 😬 very tame descriptions of violence, and lots and lots of gag-worthy fluff

xxx

“Did you see that???”

Oden grabbed Buggy’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth in excitement as they looked out to sea.

Buggy glanced back to see the rest of the crew’s faces. Rayleigh was grinning, Crocus pumping his fist in the air. Even Roger was biting his lip to hold back a cheer.

Shanks had just slaughtered a Sea King single-handedly.

And as usual, that meant no eyes would be on Buggy. Again.

Shanks leapt from the corpse of the sinking sea king and landed perfectly on the wall of the deck, his balance impeccable as always. Buggy tried to look away, but Shanks had always been excellent at making eye contact—wanted or not.

“Did you see, Buggy? First I slashed it like that— and then I grabbed its fangs like that— and then I finished it off with my sword straight through the head like this!”

Leaping down onto the deck, Shanks pantomimed ramming his sword directly into the skull of the sea king, getting the sword stuck between the floorboards in the process.

The crew had gathered around him, slapping his back, pulling off that stupid hat of his to ruffle his hair. Roger even pulled the boy into a short embrace, tight enough to earn a small oof from Shanks, before letting him go.

Buggy, motionless, rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t even that impressive. Roger’s killed dozens of Sea Kings.”

Roger turned to Buggy, chuckling. “Well sure, but I didn’t kill my first one till I was 19! Shanks is only 11!”

Shanks had pushed everyone else away to walk over to Buggy, his face slightly red. “Wasn’t that cool, Buggy?”

“Tch. Not really. I could’ve done that in my sleep, but I didn’t because some kinds of sea king are endangered, and unlike you I actually care about the environment.”

Shanks rolled his eyes. “Buggy, you dropped all your leftovers into the sea last night and said the fish would eat them. Since when do you care about the environment?”

Buggy sputtered, lacking a retort. “Th-this is stupid!” He turned on his heel and stomped into the galley. The rest of the crew watched him go, but quickly returned to praising the redhead.

Stupid Shanks. Everyone thought he was so cool. Killing sea kings like it wasn’t even hard.

And of course it had to be today of all days.

Why couldn’t Shanks have waited till August 9?

***

A knock on Buggy’s door a couple hours later stirred him from a daydream in which he’d killed fifty sea kings with his bare hands, and Shanks had begged to be his apprentice.

“What.” Buggy grunted, rolling over to face the door.

The knob turned, and Rayleigh poked his head through the crack.

“Hey kid, we just dropped anchor. Roger decided to throw a little party—“

Buggy sat up. “A party? Really?” He tried to keep his excitement from showing. “For who?”

“For Shanks! Isn’t that obvious? Anyway, we’re docked, and I need you to help me pick up food and the like. Come on.”

Buggy’s mouth dropped. “Today?! F-for Shanks. Today. And not anyone else?”

“Well, no… this is Shank’s big day after all. They say the day you kill your first sea king is the day you truly become a man, y’know.”

“SHANKS’S BIG DAY???” Buggy could feel his heart racing, his face growing hot. So no one had remembered?

Well, fine. If no one was going to bother to remember that it was Buggy’s birthday, then he’d play it cool. Wait patiently, then ruin their birthdays one by one until they realized there was only one great pirate on the ship–him.

“Fine.” Buggy said grumpily, rolling out of his bunk and slipping into his shoes. “Let’s just go.”

“Hey, I’ll even let you pick out a nice present for Shanks, as a treat. You two are best friends after all—I’m sure it’ll mean a lot to him.”

“We’re not friends!” Buggy snapped, resisting the urge to kick Rayleigh in the shin for implying something so stupid. Instead, he spat, “I don’t even like Shanks that much!”

Rayleigh chuckled and shook his head, choosing to remain silent. Entering out onto the deck, he loudly announced, “We’re headed to pick up stuff for the party! Anyone have any requests?”

Everyone always did. Oden ingredients for Oden, Inuarashi wanted some rawhide to chew on, and Pine wanted a new handsaw. Even more stuff for Buggy to carry.

The pair headed out, Buggy hoofing a few steps behind Rayleigh, and soon managed to find the island’s central market. It was surprisingly huge, and Buggy had to admit that his heartbeat sped up a bit looking at all the different stalls and vendors.

“What do you think, Buggy?” Asked Rayleigh as the two made their way through the crowd. “We need balloons, decorations, a cake—you know Shanks best. Why don’t you pick out the colors and designs he’d like?”

Buggy smiled to himself—an opportunity. He’d choose his own favorites. Then maybe it would feel like a party for him.

Even if it wasn’t.

Even if it was Shanks’s party, and not Buggy’s, even though it was Buggy’s birthday, and not Shanks, and….

Buggy took a deep breath,. “Let’s get that blue and orange party set. Those are definitely Shanks’s favorite colors.”

Rayleigh glanced over at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “All right. Blue and orange it is.”

They paid the vendor and walked on.

“Hey, Buggy. A boy coming of age deserves a nice gift from his best friend, eh?” Rayleigh said suddenly, fishing around in his pocket. After a moment he grinned and pulled out four 2,500 berry notes. “Why don’t you go get him something he’ll like? I’ll do the rest of the shopping myself, and we’ll meet back on the ship in an hour or so. How does that sound?”

Buggy was aware that his jaw had nearly hit the floor, and he hurriedly closed his mouth. “Ten THOUSAND berries? Just for Shanks?”

Rayleigh laughed. “Sure, why not? You two are just apprentices, but you deserve something nice every once in a while.” He winked conspiratorially. “Get him something you can both enjoy.”

“O-okay…” Buggy stammered for a second, then quickly regained his composure. “Yeah, sure. I’ll get him something he’ll love.” He had to turn away to hide the devious smirk that crept onto his face,

“Perfect!” Rayleigh smiled, apparently oblivious. “Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone, eh?” With that, the older man disappeared into the crowd, leaving Buggy alone with an entire market full of treats and 10,000 whole berries to enjoy them with.

And Buggy had no intention of spending a single cent on Shanks.

The boy wandered between the stalls, musing. Candy? Historically bad idea. Some cool clothes? Too flashy, everyone would know. Juggling balls? Far too unambitious with his current budget.

Then he saw it.

A stall just down the way from him, a bright yellow banner strung across its top that proudly proclaimed—

WE HAVE YEGOS

Buggy could scarcely contain his excitement. Shoving his way through the crowd, he hurriedly made it to the front of the stall.

Sure enough—the stall had more different Yego sets than Buggy had ever seen (not that he’d ever seen one in real life before—they were usually too expensive for anyone but nobles’ kids to get them). The colorful, interlocking bricks could be used to make all sorts of things. Famous palaces, islands, sea kings—Buggy even spotted a set designed to look just like Mariejois. He and Shanks had enthused together for hours over the Yego catalogs sometimes dropped off by the news coos, talking about the coolest sets, the ones they wanted the most.

Buggy’s heart suddenly dropped into his stomach as he spotted it. The One.

Yego Skypiea.

Of course, it looked nothing like the real Skypiea, Buggy scoffed. The colors were wrong, and the writing on the poneglyph piece resembled a toddler’s scribbles more than it did an ancient language, but still. It was huge, and colorful, and it even had the giant serpent and a Noland figurine. It was rare. It was coveted. It was… 15,000 berries.

Shit.

But as Buggy looked closer, he noticed a thin layer of dust covering the set. So it wasn’t selling, huh?

He smirked. Time to put on a show, and get the ultimate Yego set—all for himself.

“E-excuse me, sir?”

The merchant—tall and rotund, with a perfect handlebar mustache—glanced over at him. “Eh? You want to buy?”

“I do… b-but…” Buggy blinked hard, allowing tears to well up in the corner of his eyes.

“What, kid? I don’t have time for buts. You buy or you leave.”

“Th-that’s just the problem. I just don’t have enough for the set I want…”

“Then I guess you are shit out of luck then, are you not?” The vendor guffawed and moved to turn away.

Buggy grabbed his sleeve. “Mister, please! It’s not for me….” Scrabbling in his shirt pocket, he pulled out a picture. A tear-wrought Buggy, sitting at the bedside of none other than Shanks. The boy was covered in artfully applied stage makeup, surrounded with IVs and beeping monitors stolen from the sick bay. He looked very, very ill. The photograph had come in handy more times than Buggy could count.

“It’s for my little brother. He’s only 9, and the doctor says he doesn’t have much longer left to live… please, Mister. I just want that Skypiea set for him, but I only have ten—I mean, seventy five hundred berries. Is there any way we could make a deal?”

The merchant’s lower lip began to tremble slightly as he regarded the picture. “My son has red hair just like that…” he whispered.

He looked up, decided. “The set is not selling anyway. For your little brother, you can have. 7,500 berries. I will cut a special deal just for you.”

Buggy slapped a hand over his mouth in mock surprise. “Really, Mister?? You’re such a kind man! Thank you, thank you so much!”

After the merchant broke apart and boxed up the set (wiping a tear from the corner of his eye as he did so), he handed it over. “You tell your brother…” a sniffle. “You tell him to keep fighting, okay?” The man turned away, clearly hiding his emotion. “You are a good brother, kid. He is lucky that he can depend on you.”

Buggy, turning away from the merchant, rolled his eyes. “Thanks again, Mister!”

Walking off with his well-earned prize, Buggy used a bit of his remaining berries on an ice cream bar or three before heading back to the ship, extra cash in pocket.

But despite the noise of the crowd, Buggy couldn’t get the merchant’s voice out of his ears.

“You are a good brother, kid. He is lucky he can depend on you.”

��It’s not even like Shanks is my real brother anyway. So who cares if I keep this for myself?”

He kicked a rock, nearly hitting a sparrow drinking from a nearby puddle.

“It’s my birthday anyway, and not stupid Shanks. So I deserve this more than he does.”

An image flashed in his head—Shanks grappling with the sea king. Its fang scraping a long, deep cut down his arm. The bruises that were just starting to form on his face when Buggy had left the ship. Buggy swallowed. Shanks really had looked terrified…

“Yeah, but it’s still my birthday!” Buggy cursed as he stomped up the planks and back onto the ship, glaring down at his feet.

“Hey, Bug-oof.”

Not looking where he was going, he collided directly with Shanks himself, sending the precious set flying into the air.

“Oh, sorry Buggy! I got it!” Shanks moved to catch the package, but Buggy shoved him out of the way.

“Hey, that’s mine, firehead!” As he reached for the package, it tumbled between his outstretched hands and was knocked away. The boys both watched as if in slow motion as the package flew toward the edge of the deck and toward the ocean…

Only to be caught in the nick of time, smoothly between Rayleigh’s palms.

“Looks like you found something good, Buggy!” Rayleigh laughed, turning the large package over in his hands. “Shanks, I believe this is for you.”

Shit.

“Well, not exactly, I mean…” Buggy trailed off at Shanks’s expression. The redhead didn’t look excited. He seemed genuinely bewildered.

“But Buggy… why would you get me a present when it’s your birthday?”

Buggy felt his face turn as red as his nose.. Someone had remembered.

Of course it had to be Shanks.

Shanks’s face suddenly brightened. “Hey, I have a present for you too! Let’s go open them together!”

“What—“ before Buggy could get the words out, Shanks had reached out, and softly interlocked his fingers with Buggy’s. Their eyes met, and Buggy felt his cheeks redden at the sheer adoration in Shanks’s expression. There was a weird feeling in his stomach. Sort of… fluttery. Buggy attempted to finish his protestations, but all that came out was a soft little “oh.”

In an instant, Shanks was turning away, pulling his friend along with him. “Let’s go!”

Smiling, Rayleigh handed the brightly colored package to Buggy. “Have fun, you two.”

Shanks tugged Buggy along until they were below deck, in the spare storage room where they liked to play.

“Ok, close your eyes!” Shanks said excitedly, reaching down behind some boxes and barrels.

Buggy rolled his eyes, but shut them. A moment later, the sudden weight of a heavy package plunked into his outstretched hands. Big, he thought to himself. Maybe giving up the Yego set wouldn’t be so bad.

Shanks held Buggy’s original package, and sat down happily on the floor with it. “Let’s open them at the same time!”

Buggy couldn’t help but smile despite his foul mood. “Ok. On the count of three!”

“One!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

A frenzy of torn wrapping paper filled the room with the noises of crinkling and ripping. Buggy could scarcely contain his greed as he revealed the contents of the package, the logo of the brand.

Yego.

He flung the remainder of the paper aside, and felt his face turn red.

Yego Skypiea.

The very thing Buggy had wanted most. That he’d had to give up. And now it was his—no scheming, no tricks, just perfect little Shanks.

Shanks, who couldn’t have been more excited about his own gift. “Whoa, you got me the Yego Skypiea set too?? I was hoping you’d let me play with yours, but now we both have one, and…”

Buggy stared down at his own set, feeling himself grow angrier by the minute. Shanks, the perfect sea king killer. Shanks, the perfect apprentice. Shanks, who always remembered your birthday. Shanks, who always gave the perfect gift.

The redhead seemed oblivious to Buggy’s growing rage. “…and now we can combine them together to make a huge giant Skypiea, just like the real one!”

“I don’t WANT to combine them together, idiot!” Buggy suddenly stood, kicking Shanks’s box across the floor. “You’re so perfect, why don’t you just make your perfect little Skypiea all by your perfect little self, and I’ll make my Skypiea and all the crew will say ‘wow Buggy, that sure is nice, too bad it’s not as nice as SHANKS with his perfect little Shanks world!”

For once, the characteristic grin on Shanks’s face faded.

“Oh… okay, well… I guess if that’s what you want…” the boy said softly. He suddenly looked much younger than his eleven years. Like the “nine year old baby brother” in their faked photograph. “I guess I’ll just play with mine over here, and you can build yours in that corner over there then.”

“Fine,” Buggy snarled. He stomped over to the corner and loudly dumped his Yegos onto the floor. “Mine is gonna be a thousand times cooler than yours.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Shanks said quietly from his own corner.

Time passed, each boy working on his own set. Buggy loudly cheered for himself every time he managed to assemble something tricky, but Shanks worked in total silence, with only the clicks of the bricks attaching to indicate he was there at all. Buggy would have felt a bit guilty for snapping at him—if he hadn’t been absolutely right, of course.

But he had to admit, it was boring playing alone.

“Hey Buggy?”

His head snapped up. Shanks, as if he’d read the other boy’s thoughts. He held his half-finished Skypiea model in his hands.

“What do you want?”

“Um… I think I’m missing a piece. See this little arch thingy? I’m supposed to have two…”

“What do you expect me to do about it?”

“I thought you might have an extra?”

Buggy laughed out loud. “Like I would give it to you if I did.”

“I could trade you for one of my flat pieces, if you want. I think you’re missing one there on the corner.”

Buggy followed his eyes. It was true—he was short a piece. Stupid vendor, selling faulty merchandise.

“Fine. One piece,” he grumbled, making the trade.

“Thanks, Buggy!” Shanks said, skipping back to his corner.

Not fifteen minutes later, he was back. “Do you have one of those ones that looks like a torch?”

Buggy sighed. “Yeah, but my serpent is missing a fang. Gimme one of yours.”

“Deal!”

And then Shanks was missing a six-block. And a wall piece. And half a dozen other pieces. Eventually, Buggy tugged him over to sit next to him. “This will be easier. I’m still doing my Skypiea alone, though!”

“I know!” Shanks said. “Yours looks really cool, by the way. Better than mine does. I just can’t figure out how it all goes together.”

Buggy couldn’t help but grin, despite his still-simmering annoyance. “Yeah, I always knew I would be really good at Yego. Way better than you.”

Shanks looked back and forth, comparing their models. Then he looked up, his face brightening. “Buggy! What if we took my set and used it to make your Skypiea even cooler?”

Buggy’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Yours is so much better than mine is. But we could take some of my vines and put them here…” Shanks demonstrated, affixing the pieces to an outer wall. “And then it looks more realistic!” Buggy had to admit, it did look better.

He looked at Shanks for a long moment. “What if… What if we used your wall pieces to make a tower for mine instead? And those floor tiles can be for the roof?”

Shanks’s grin was back, flooding the little room with strange warmth. “Whoa, yeah!”

Buggy felt his heart flutter at that smile. Maybe he’d missed it a bit, even for the few hours that they’d been angry. That… that Buggy had been angry, really. Shanks hadn’t seemed anything other than, well… lonely.

Slowly, the boys began to work on the tower. More and more of Shanks’s pieces found a second purpose attached to Buggy’s set. The hours passed, and soon they were both laughing, planning, building, the instruction booklets forgotten on the floor. Towers and grottos and houses started to litter the expanse of Buggy’s set, looking more and more like the Skypiea the boys remembered.

And in here, in their own world without Roger or Rayleigh or sea kings…

Buggy felt like a person. Not just Shanks’s shadow. Like… like a real equal. Someone who maybe had a shot at being a great pirate someday.

Everyone else had forgotten.

But not Shanks.

Everyone else overlooked him.

But not Shanks.

Everyone else—even Roger—was just another face, another person to impress, another member of the audience.

Shanks was more.

“Buggy! Shanks! Come up for the party!”

Oden’s voice suddenly echoed down the stairs and into the storage room. “We’re having sea king oden!”

The boys looked at each other, snapped out of their reverie.

Shanks smiled. “Let’s go! We can finish after we celebrate!” He moved to turn away. But before Buggy even knew what he was doing, his hand was on Shanks’s shoulder.

Shanks turned, his eyes inquisitive. “What—“

He didn’t get the words out. Buggy’s arms were suddenly around him, pulling him close, burying his red nose in Shanks’s neck. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it—maybe it was the birthday gift, or the sea king, or the new and improved Skypiea model. Whatever it was, Buggy could feel tears welling up in his eyes as he held Shanks tightly, tighter than he’d ever held anyone before.

A sudden rush of embarrassment as Buggy realized what he was doing, and he shoved Shanks away. “Let’s go.” He hurried ahead, hiding his reddening face. The other boy stood there for a moment, his own face bright red. Then he shook his head as if to clear it before following Buggy up the stairs.

As Buggy climbed out onto the deck of the ship, he suddenly stopped. There on the big long table the crew only used on special occasions, was a massive birthday cake—strawberry frosting, Buggy’s favorite—with exactly 11 candles. The blue and orange decorations Buggy had chosen adorned every inch of the table, and several presents were stacked at one end. A huge handmade banner with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUGGY (and congratulations Shanks for the sea king)” was hung beneath the sails.

“Surprise!” The entire crew leaped out from hiding places all over the deck as Buggy stood dumbfounded, his jaw hanging loose.

“You- you- you didn’t for- but…”

“Happy birthday, Buggy!” said Roger, pulling the boy into a tight embrace. “Eleven’s a big year. You’ll have more responsibilities on the ship now. But you’re a stellar apprentice. I know you can handle it.”

Rayleigh, walking up, slapped Buggy on the back. “We really got you with the whole ‘party for Shanks’ thing, didn’t we?”

Shanks was behind him. “It was my job to distract you while they set everything up!”

Roger chuckled. “You did it well, my boy. I can always count on you two, can’t I?”

Buggy barely managed to nod. Finally, words came to him. “You did all this for me?”

“Of course we did, Buggy,” Shanks said softly. “You’re important to us.”

The rest of the crew was nodding in agreement. “We love you, Buggy,” said Rayleigh.

“Who’s hungry?” Oden’s voice echoed from the kitchen. He held a huge pot of his famous oden.

As everyone gathered around the table, Buggy felt Shanks’s hand brush his own. The boys glanced at each other.

Swallowing, Buggy grabbed it and squeezed.

He wasn’t sure what it meant. He wasn’t sure what he felt.

Maybe it was happiness.

xxx

Hey thank you for making it to the end! Realized halfway thru this story is literally about my relationship with my brother (minus the lovey parts) so that was a fun little chat to have with my therapist lol. I hope you enjoyed!

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 10 - Part One

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 7,000

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. Smut.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

July 2021

Chris’ leg was bouncing anxiously as the private plane slowly rolled along the runway after landing in California. He didn’t know why he should be nervous, something which his younger brother had obnoxiously pointed out just moments earlier, he had no reason to be. But there was something in him that still felt anxious, that wondered what it would be like seeing Nat again. So much had happened since they’d been in person and although he knew just how much they’d grown closer, emotionally becoming so connected in his time away, his anxiety was trying to convince him otherwise. 

It didn’t help that he’d been building today up in his mind for months now, practically dreaming every day of how it’d go, what would happen, that now he was more nervous than he’d been in a long time for anything, but especially a date. She just was…. it for him, and the fact that she was that already, after only a few months of knowing each other and a few moments together, was reason enough for him to feel this way.  

But when Dodger jumped up from where he’d been laying at Chris’ feet as the flight attendant opened the door, Scott shot Chris a smile, more confident about the evening going well than Chris was, especially when Nat had asked if she could pick Chris up from the private airfield. With them going straight to the restaurant, Chris had come dressed for the evening, wearing his tight white tank top and a watercolor style patterned shirt that he knew Nat would love hanging unbuttoned on top. He wanted to look a little bit nicer, showing Nat he put effort into it, not having any interest in playing things cool. He was crazy about Nat and he wanted her to know it. 

That anxiety that was hanging at his heels was still ever present when he finally stood up behind Scott who grabbed his bags and Dodger’s leash, telling him, “Alright, I’ll drop Dodge and your shit at your house and then I’m headed home. Have fun tonight.” 

“Thanks Scott. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he promised, clapping his brother’s shoulder before he turned, taking one last glance around the cabin to make sure he had everything. 

Chris shoved his nervous hands into the pockets of his dark wash jeans and turned the opposite direction of Scott once they headed down the short stairs and onto the pavement. He glanced down at his phone, looking at the text again to see where Nat was parked but as he kept walking and lifted his head, he found that he didn’t have to look any farther to find his girl. 

She was just stepping out of the driver's seat of his Tesla and suddenly the past few months of being without her seemed to hit him hard. Every inch of him wanted her in every sense of the word. He wanted nothing more than to have her in his arms and commit that feeling to memory, never wanting to be without it again and luckily he didn’t have to much longer when Nat’s eyes landed on his, her entire face lighting up as she ran over to him in her black heels and practically leapt into his arms, showing him just how happy she was to be with him too. 

Chris closed his eyes as he held her off the ground, squeezing her tight and breathing in that fresh lavender scent of hers. He had missed this so badly, not getting hardly any of it before he’d left for Europe and he was determined to make up for it now. He didn’t even know how long they stood there, holding each other so tightly until Chris finally set her down on her feet and pulled back enough to see her face but only got to for a second before Nat was crashing her lips to his, reminding him that was the other thing he’d been missing. 

He kissed her for as long as she let him, pulling back when his lungs began to burn and rested his forehead against hers, pressing kisses to any skin he could reach as he whispered, “I fuckin’ missed you.” 

“I can’t believe you’re actually here,” she replied just as quietly, her hand moving through the hair at the back of his head. He’d gotten his hair cut by one of the hair stylists on set when filming wrapped last week, and while it was definitely shorter than he preferred – and what he secretly knew Nat liked – it was still a welcome change after looking like Lloyd for the last four months. 

“Finally,” he chuckled, moving his forehead off at hers and looking her up and down, holding her hand in his. Her little black dress was definitely a surprise, something he’d never seen Nat in before, but he fuckin’ loved it. “You look gorgeous, Nattie.” 

She shrugged, a cheeky smirk on her face as she squeezed his hand a few times. “I’ve got a date tonight so I wanted to dress up a little,” she mentioned nonchalantly. 

“You look fuckin’ amazing,” he muttered with a shake of his head, eyes taking in her slightly more dramatic than usual makeup and lingering on her purposely-messy updo. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair straight before.” 

She blushed and shrugged, admitting, “I only do it for special occasions.” 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks this is pretty fuckin’ special,” he laughed a little, grinning at her as they slowly began walking, hand-in-hand, to the car across the lot. “I’m so glad to be back with you, Nattie.” 

She leaned against his side as she confessed, “Me too.” 

Chris couldn’t help but stop them and reach out, letting a hand rest on her soft cheek as he looked down into those beautiful eyes he’d missed getting to see. There was so much unsaid in that moment, but it didn’t need to be because both of them were feeling the same thing and they knew it. He couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her once more, soaking in the taste of her kiss before pulling away with one little kiss to her forehead. 

“Just so you know…” Nat whispered as he pulled back from her forehead, a smirk on her red lips. “I like kissing you a lot better without the mustache.” 

Chris rolled his eyes, shaking his head as they began walking side by side again towards the car. “I can’t even make it to the fuckin’ car before you brought up the mustache!” He muttered playfully, but he felt the same.

“Well can you blame me? It was pretty awful,” Nat shrugged simply, smirking next to Chris as her heels clicked against the pavement.

“As promised, it was shaved before I came back to the states,” he reminded her, watching as she swung their hands back and forth a little, practically vibrating with excitement. “I just can’t believe you’re driving my Tesla. I never thought I’d see you behind the wheel of it, especially now that your car got recovered.” 

“As much as I love my car, I thought this might look a little better for a date than my Trooper that now has the paint scratched and the hubcaps missing thanks to my car thieves,” Nat sighed, and Chris nodded as he remembered the state it was found in, a few cities west of where it was stolen. They both had been relieved that it was relatively fine, but it was definitely due for some TLC in the shop soon.

“I’m just glad they found it though,” he whispered, but then smirked as his eyes moved up and down his girl again. “Although I think seeing you in my car is pretty sexy.” 

She shrugged, smirking as she agreed with a small laugh, “I am pretty good at sitting.” 

“Well get your cute ass in, I’ll drive,” he said as they got to the car, holding his hand out for the key fob.

But Nat bit her lip and looked at him with a smirk, and despite handing over the key, she murmured, “I don’t know if you should. I’m not sure you can keep your eyes on the road.” 

And Chris chuckled to himself, moving the fob between his fingers as he looked at her through his lashes, whispering, “I haven’t seen my girl in months and she picked me up looking sexy as fuck, so can you blame me?” 

He bit his lip as he saw the way she reacted to that simple rhetorical question, the deep blush that not only spread across her lips but also her chest, and then how she just nodded with pursed lips, dropping his hand.They both walked around the car, Chris chuckling to himself as he watched Nat easily open the door – something she’d struggled with only a few weeks ago – and they both slipped into the car without another word. He let out a sigh as the car automatically adjusted to his settings, the seat slipping back to accommodate his height and he looked over at Nat, smirking to himself as he felt nothing except a deep attraction to her. 

As he turned the car on Chris couldn’t help but reach over and rested his hand on her thigh, just needing that point of contact before he leaned his head against the seat, gazing at her while he told her softly, “I really missed you, Nattie.” 

He saw the tender look in her emotional eyes before she reached over to rest her hand on his cheek, rubbing her thumb against the smattering of prickly scruff before Nat connected their lips for their first unrestrained kiss, behind some semblance of closed doors and privacy, since seeing each other again. It just felt so good, not just the kiss but all of it. Having her back with him, feeling her touch, hearing that gorgeous laugh of hers, it all felt so perfect but what was even better to him was knowing that come tomorrow, he wasn’t going to have to leave like he’d done before. He was going to get her fully and nothing made him happier than that. 

He’d missed her. He’d missed her wild curls, the ones she barely seemed to have the time or patience to handle as the day progressed, before she resigned to her fate and just threw it up in a bun that was always somehow wilder and weirder than the last. He’d missed the faux-judgmental looks before she burst into laughter, shot at him from across the room or a conference table. He’d missed how she always succeeded in sneaking something that would make his trainer hate her into his meals, whether it was ice cream at lunch or copious amounts of carbs or cheese at dinner. He’d just missed her. Everything she did, everything she was, and everything she had become to him.

But when Chris felt her arms wrap around him and pressed her body into his the best she could from where they were in the car, he realized he’d missed that too. He couldn’t stop his hands from running up her side, tracing her figure until they slid around to her back and pressed her even closer to him. Suddenly she pulled away from him, confusing Chris and making his eyes open just in time to see her grabbing the edges of her black dress and pulling it up her thighs before she climbed across the center console and planted herself in his lap, knees on either side of his hips while her hands rubbed along his firm chest. 

His eyes were wide as he looked up at her, seeing the way she smirked as his head leaned back against the headrest to meet her eyes. And – not for the first time – he found himself in awe of her, of just how amazing and perfect she was, attracted to her in every sense of the word. Chris’ hands yet again reached out for her, pulling her body against his impossibly tight before their lips found one another’s again, their tongues tangling and soft sighs filling the car. He had dreamed of this for so long, wanting to remember what it was like to have his hands on her, rubbing down her back and groping at her ass the way they were right now. But none of his dreams matched up to how good it was to actually be feeling it, to be finally feeling her weight on his lap. 

Chris was so lost in her, so lost in the feeling of finally getting to kiss her that he had barely noticed her shifting in his lap until she started rolling her hips against him, making Chris need to pull away to take a long breath as he bit out a strained curse, leaning his head back against the headrest as she continued moving her hips against him. 

“Nattie, I thought I was taking you out for a nice dinner,” he ground out, his eyes flying close as she passed over him. 

But she smirked and leaned in, pressing her lips to his neck as he tucked a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. “Oh you still are, I’m starving,” she drawled. 

He gently moved her back to sit up, cringing a bit at just how…. enthusiastic he clearly was already. “I don’t think I have much room to really move here so maybe we do dinner first and then head home,” he suggested, his hand coming to rest on her arm as his thumb moved back and forth over the bare skin there, and he watched as she slipped out of his lap and moved back to her own seat. “I finally have time with you so I don’t want to rush it.” 

But Nat studied him for a few moments, eyes flicking between him and his pants before she asked, “What if I help you take the edge off now?” 

“...Are you bein’ serious?” 

She nodded and shrugged, a small smirk on her lips as her eyes watched him nod back quickly. It felt like a blur as she helped him unzip his pants and pulled him out of his briefs, and Chris’ eyes widened as she leaned down across the console, kneeling on her own seat to get closer to him. He watched from under his long eyelashes as Nat’s small hand wrapped around his base while her other hand ran along his length, her fingertips gently tracing the thick vein and making him harden in her hands. 

Chris was already on edge, leaning his head back against the headrest and taking in deep breaths through his nostrils while he muttered, “Fuck Nattie.” 

She chuckled, and the puff of air against him nearly made his hips jerk. “Just relax, baby,” she murmured to him unhelpfully. 

But how in the world could he do that? It was impossible to relax when he saw Nat’s red lips wrap around his tip and feel her warm mouth on him. Just the sensation of her tongue swirling around his tip was enough to make him want to die right then and there. He couldn’t believe this was happening, that he actually was here with her and that she was all his. 

It had been so long since they’d been together, and only once at that with that one time being so clouded with other emotions and uncertainty but this was different. They both knew how they felt and the emotional connection that they had months to build was stronger than anything he’d experienced before, but it only made it harder for him to hang on as she bobbed her head up and down. 

Chris reached out to cradle the back of her head with his hand, moaning obscenely and barely being able to open his eyes to look at her, knowing that would push him over the edge instantly. But he had to feel her, wanting to remind himself this was real and actually happening. His chest was heaving with his heavy breaths as she kept hollowing her cheeks and sucking him so perfectly and Chris let his hand run down her back as he grunted out from the particular way her hands fondled him. His hand kept following down the curve of her back and came to rest on the curve of her behind, just wanting to touch her as he focused on keeping his breathing in check. 

But the moment that Nat started sucking him harder and bobbing her head up and down faster and faster, his heart started pounding in his chest and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to hang on. He was panting heavily but managed to push out a “Nattie,” in an attempt to warn her that he was almost there but she just stayed put, keeping her tongue rubbing against him so perfectly until he couldn’t stand it anymore and finally spilled over his peak. 

His whole body went limp at the incredible release, melting into the seat as Nat only pulled off of him to swallow before she wrapped her lips back around his tip to gently suck him as his breathing caught back up to normal. Chris finally let his eyes flutter open when Nat finally sat back up and gave him such a soft smile that he was melting all over again. 

But she surprised him when she smirked suddenly, her eyes amused as she slowly pointed at him sheepishly and told Chris, “I think you’re going to want to wipe off your face.” 

Not understanding, Chris reached out to flip down the sunvisor where the mirror was put and he instantly burst into laughter at the sight of Nat’s dark red lipstick smudged all over his face. His loud laughter filled the car as Nat reached for her purse in the backseat and fished out a makeup wipe as she reached over to swipe it across his cheeks before moving to wipe off the lipstick that was smudged in other places other than just his face.  

Once they’d both settled – and shared more laughter – they’d buckled their seatbelts and Chris put the car in reverse, heading out of the airfield’s parking lot and towards the freeway, to the little Mexican restaurant, Chris letting out a tiny sigh of relief as he realized they still had time to make their dinner reservations. 

Chris was fairly quiet most of the car ride while Nat babbled on about the mishaps that had happened the past couple days at work featuring Mark and Jamie and the random antics they’d gotten into. He didn’t even really find himself paying that much attention to what she was saying, but just loved getting to finally be here in the car listening to her voice from right beside him rather than from the other end of a phone or blurry FaceTime call. 

But when they’d gotten tucked into a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Chris couldn’t wait another moment to marvel, “God, I just missed you so fuckin’ much.” 

Her lips spread into a smirk as she huffed, barely looking at him from over the top of the menu as she mused, “I bet you did because I doubt Scott got you cheating on your diet and eating ice cream at lunch.” 

He shot her a look from across the small table, telling her, “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” 

“Might not be, but it’s also a lot less fun,” Nat simply shrugged as she put the menu down and reached for a chip from the bowl between them. 

Chris nodded, his eyes moving over the different fajita options. “If I could have ice cream for lunch and look like you do, I’d go for it too,” he murmured. 

“Yeah because you look so terrible,” Nat rolled her eyes but smirked when they caught each other’s gaze. 

Chris put his menu down on the table, smacking Nat’s hand away playfully as she tried to take a chip before he could. He smirked at her as he took some salsa too, and told her, “Hey, you’re the one that told me I did with that mustache.” 

“Yeah but that was all the mustache’s doing,” she rolled her eyes as she watched him eat, taking a chip of her own again as she reached for her water. “So are you happy to be done or is it sad when you wrap a project?” 

“A little of both. This one was fun, I mean you know I love the Russos but it felt like a whirlwind going from Prague to France and then Croatia so I’m ready for a break,” Chris shrugged, leaning back against the cushioned booth as he ran a hand over his face. “The past few days back home in Boston I just slept most of the time trying to get back on the right schedule.” 

Nat frowned as she listened to him, adding, “And now that you’re back in California you have to adjust again.” 

“It’s worth it though,” Chris grinned, but turned his attention quickly to the waiter as they came by to take their orders and drop off their drinks. 

Once they were alone again, she watched him as he took another chip.“Do you know how long you’re going to stay here?” She asked, voice a little more tentative than he’d expected from her.  Before he could reply, she rushed to add, “Will you be here until you have to go record in New York?” 

Chris nodded, remembering how they’d structured the process so he could record closer to Boston in the New York offices, but that was before everything changed and he had something here that made him want to stay in Los Angeles, for the first time in a long time. “I actually emailed Rob to see if I could switch it here instead,” he began slowly, knowing he hadn’t told her about that yet, but had been unable to help himself when the head of the recording department for the film sent over the drafted schedule for fall, putting him in the New York City a few days a week. “I just have a much better reason to be here than New York.” 

But she smirked around the straw of her lemonade then drawled, “Yeah because I bet the recording studio in New York doesn’t have a soft serve machine like we do here.” 

“Good point,” Chris chuckled, his smile growing wider at Nat’s laughter. After taking a sip from his soda, he settled back into the conversation, asking her, “So how is everything at work going?” 

“It’s been so busy. Good, but busy just trying to get everything for Lightyear on track. We had fallen behind with everyone just getting back into the routine after working from home so it slowed us down,” she explained, and Chris nodded even though he couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like for her, trying to catch up on work in between everything in the last few months. “A bunch of us have been working weekends to get caught up and I think we’re back on track now.” 

He nodded, putting his soda back onto the table and told her, “Good because you’ve got plans this weekend.” 

Nat sighed, adjusting the thin strap on her dress from where it’d slipped off her shoulder and said, “Yeah, it’s just too bad they’re not with you.” 

“I fuckin’ missed you, Nattie,” he whispered, all but a pout on his lips at the stupid joke, but smirked when she laughed loudly at him. 

“I missed you too,” she replied just as quietly, slipping her hand across the table to hold his, and Chris felt thankful – not for the first time that night – that they weren’t in the view of other diners. “Oh, Heather and Alex said hi by the way.” 

He smiled at the mention of her sisters, but quickly shook his head. “I honestly can’t believe your family doesn’t hate my guts after what happened,” he murmured, shifting in the booth. “Have they stopped getting follow requests by now?” 

“Yeah it’s all died down,” Nat assured him, even though Chris had some doubts, especially when it came to her own accounts. “But trust me, they’re your biggest fans. Ever since you sent over dinner while you were filming when Heather was visiting me, she’s been on your side.” 

He blushed a little, meeting her eyes as he honestly told her, “If I would have known I could win them over that easily, I would have done it a lot sooner.” 

“Well you didn’t have a lot to compete with considering they hated my fiance by the end of our relationship,” Nat mentioned, rolling her eyes playfully. 

He watched her, almost feeling out how she felt before he slowly asked, “You can tell me to fuck off, but just how badly did things end between you two?” 

“Enough that it’s painfully awkward now at birthday parties,” she muttered, rolling her eyes for real this time. “He’s cousins with Alex’s husband.” 

Chris frowned and curiously asked, “Was he at your niece’s birthday party?” 

“Luckily no,” Nat informed him, and Chris felt some relief at that. “He’s working in Europe and is engaged to some girl there so he’s not really home anytime other than the holidays, so luckily Ella’s birthday only had good people at it.” 

Chris nodded, taking the cue to drop the conversation. It wasn’t exactly prime ‘first date’ subject material, so he turned to the one thing he knew would always bring a smile to her face and said, “I’m sure your family were happy to have you home for a little while.” 

“Yeah, it was really nice,” Nat nodded, shrugging a little with a small smile. “My dad was a little down because the day of Ella’s party was my mom’s birthday so I think it was nice for him to have us all together.”

Chris’ shoulders fell a little at the mention of her late mother, not realizing the significance of the weekend visit beyond Ella’s birthday. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for any of you,” he whispered. 

“I don’t remember her at all so it’s a lot different for me than it is for anyone else,” Nat admitted, surprising Chris a little until he remembered how young Nat had been when everything happened – only two years old. “But all things considered I think my dad had a really good weekend. He seemed pretty happy.” 

Chris nodded, glancing down at his lap before he added, “Until I sent his daughter home in tears from being an ass.” 

“Well, my dad was actually the one who told me to call you after everything happened.” 

Chris looked back up at her, shocked as he asked, “Was he really?” 

“Yeah, he said that I was in too deep for you to not call you back, and that he saw the way you looked at me when he was visiting so he knew that you cared about me,” she laughed, and he couldn’t help but laugh at how obviously hilarious she now found it all. 

“He’s certainly right about that,” Chris agreed, unable to tear his eyes off the woman in front of him.

Chris only got the chance to see her beautiful smile for a moment until the waiter pulled his attention away when he brought the foot and set it down on the table in front of them. As they dug in and started eating, Chris realized even more than he had the past few months that he had fallen completely head over heels for Nat. Throughout the entire meal, neither could make it more than a few minutes without hysterically laughing at something the other said before they’d fall right back into their easy conversation. Nat’s easy charisma and authenticity had him hanging on to her every word, loving her comically expressive face and ability to put anyone around her at ease, specifically him. There didn’t seem to be a moment that he was with her that he wasn’t smiling. 

She had polished off her entire meal before she curled her legs underneath her in the booth, hands waving wildly as she regaled a tale from the day before featuring her somehow landing in one of the perfectly landscaped bushes at the Disney campus which made Chris slap a hand to his chest, eyes squinted up as he tipped back and sputtered with loud laughter, “How the fuck does this stuff happen to you?” 

“That’s the same thing the Head of Animation asked me when I showed up to the meeting with leaves still stuck in my hair,” Nat laughed loudly, her cheeks bright red as he shook his head at her. 

And that was how their dinner ended – loud laughter and unbelievable stories, following them back into his car as they headed toward Chris’ house in Laurel Canyon. It felt almost surreal that he was actually here with Nat. It had been over two long months since he had her back in person and there was so much that so easily fell back into place but also so much that somehow felt… different. He’d never had a relationship like this, that he’d been pulled away before things had a chance to naturally evolve. With them having spent that one night together right before he left, and the uncertainty that had followed, they never had a chance to actually be together with all their emotions out in the open. 

They had been forced to be away from each other, but the more Chris thought about it, the more he realized how much closer it had helped them grow and connect emotionally. They both had to make a choice to put effort into it, it wasn’t something that had just fallen in his lap or been convenient like many other of his relationships had been. This was one both he and Nat had to work for and the emotional closeness that had sprung from that was something he hadn’t felt with most girlfriends during the entire course of their relationship, let alone so early on and without hardly any face to face. 

But this was different and Chris knew it. 

Every bit of him wanted her. He wanted all the sensitivity, laughter, friendship, and chaos that came with her. But there was another way in which he wanted her and hadn’t been able to have but by the way that Nat’s hands were wrapping around his waist as she curled herself against his body as they walked up to his front door, he knew that she wanted him too. 

He had barely gotten the door closed behind him before he was slipping his arms around her waist and pulling up against her to kiss her deeply. Instantly her hands were grasping at his neck, pulling him even tighter as she kissed him back fervently. It was almost funny as he thought back to the last time a few months ago when they were in this exact spot, kissing by the front door but this time was so different. No uncertainty. No lingering question. No urgency. This time, there was only longing and desire.

The pair stumbled over to the couch, never hardly breaking their kiss until Chris ungracefully plopped on the couch while pulling Nat’s hips down to follow him. Just as she had done in the car, he watched as she pulled the hem of her dress up dangerously high on her thighs before straddling his hips and sitting down in his lap, only resulting in getting him more worked up than he already was. His arms wrapped around her hips, pulling her impossibly tighter against him and Nat rubbed her body against his as she kissed her way up his neck before bringing her lips back to his for a kiss which he had decided he’d gone much too long without. 

There was nothing about her that didn’t attract him and he could feel just how turned on for her that he was with every little roll of her hips into him. But he had only gotten to have this one time before. Only got to feel her and look at her one time and he knew that just wasn’t enough. Chris started sucking at her bottom lip, earning some of those breathy sighs from her before his hands slipped down and found the hem of her dress, dipping his hands under it and started pulling upward to bring the fabric to bunch at her waist. When his big hands moved back down, he was so thankful for the skimpy thong she’d worn, allowing his hands to feel her round cheeks in his hands that he kneaded and squeezed, causing her to moan with each one. 

He felt completely drunk on her, every sigh and gasp something he wanted to memorize. It felt so good just having her weight in his lap, getting to have his hands on her and getting to feel the touch of her hands rubbing along his chest. But he wanted more. Chris tried to restrain himself the best he could, just enjoying their profuse kissing and he certainly did, but after a while his hands traveled up to find that tiny zipper on her dress and slowly dragged it down. His blue eyes saw those tiny straps fall from her shoulders and with the fabric now loose, Nat pulled back from him and let Chris grab the fabric that was pushed up around her waist and pulled it over her head, tossing it to the floor and leaving her in nothing but that tiny thong and that certainly was a sight that had him growling. 

He brought his hands around her smooth back, tipping her back slightly in his lap so he could fully look at her, his eyes taking in every inch before landing on her face as she smiled at him, instantly making him feel weak. Chris couldn’t help but lean in to kiss her before his lips started trailing down, littering kisses all over her neck and the top of her bare chest, muttering, “Still can’t get over how fuckin’ gorgeous you are.” 

And he swore he could practically feel her melt in his arms at just that one simple phrase that only urged him to go on. Those little sighs kept spilling out of her lips as he covered every inch of her chest in kisses before his mouth wrapped around one of her perky nipples, sucking softly while he kept one arm around her to hold her up and the other to gently grope at her other soft breast. He took his time there, alternating between each one but by the time he was about to finish, he heard Nat’s voice whine, “Chris…” 

“Hmm?” He muttered against her skin, knowing that he’d never get tired of this… tired of her. 

“I want you, baby,” she purred, hearing her little term of endearment for him only adding to his desire for her. 

And as if to prove her point, she rolled her hips down onto his hard manhood still confined in his jeans. But who was he to deny her what she wanted? What good was he doing her if he couldn’t fulfill her every desire in this moment – and not to mention his own. Chris pulled her tighter against him, hooking both his arms around her waist and stood up holding her effortlessly. Nat just snaked her arms around his neck, nuzzling her face into his neck and kissing his skin sweetly while her legs wrapped around him, clinging to him in a way that was driving him crazy as he walked down the hallway, thankful Dodger was too occupied by the food in his bowl to pay them any attention. 

Chris pushed the door to his bedroom open with his foot and then back closed again before finding the bed and gently laying her down. He pulled off every bit of his clothing in record time, freeing him from his constraints, grabbing a condom before he stalked over to the bed, weak at the sight of Nat nearly naked and wanting him. When he reached the bed, Chris ran both of his hands up her long legs before letting one hand dip between her thighs to feel her over the wet fabric of her skimpy thong. 

“God, Nattie you’re so wet for me, honey,” he groaned, his eyes nearly falling shut as he ran his fingers over her. 

“I want you so fucking bad,” Nat admitted, her voice breaking a little as her eyes met his. “I missed you, Chris.” 

“I know, I missed you too,” he whispered, giving a small half-smile. “But this time I don’t have to leave you.” 

She smirked, her head falling against the overstuffed pillows as she confessed, “I like the sound of that.” 

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to her thigh before hooking his fingers in the waistband and peeled off that last bit of fabric separating them and he nearly moaned when he saw Nat spreading her legs for him. He was ready to kneel down, eager to taste her, but felt a hand on his shoulder. Chris looked up at her, seeing that beautiful face propped up by one of the white pillows and there was nothing but tenderness in her eyes as she said, “Baby, I just want to feel you.” 

“You sure?” 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

With her instruction, Chris nodded softly, knowing he’d get plenty of time in the future to have his face buried between her thighs. He made his way up the bed and got between her legs, but first laid himself down, pressing his chest against hers and kissed her deeply. It felt as if so much was being said with that one kiss and he knew it was. He knew without a doubt that he was in love with her, he’d known it from the minute his eyes landed on her earlier that evening, and in his heart he’d known it for a little longer than that even. It was undeniable, and although he wanted to wait for the right moment to say it to her, he knew that he felt it and felt it deeply. 

It’s what made pushing his length deep into her feeling a million times better. This was an act of the two of them showing each other all that they felt, and what they felt was honest and true. He swore he could have hit his peak right then and there with that initial stretch just from feeling how tightly Nat was gripping on her shoulders and how loud she was crying out for him. It felt so incredible to be tucked inside those velvety walls, Nat squeezing him just right. 

His hands were on either side of her, caging Nat in as his hips found a good rhythm, pulling out and snapping back in perfectly. Nat wrapped her legs lazily around his hips, opening herself up farther and pulling him in. Chris would be lying if he said he hadn’t dreamed of this, what it would be like when they were finally back together again but the best part of this was that it was so much better than he even could have imagined. 

It was so hard for him to hang on and draw this out, but by the way that Nat was arching her back and grabbing at his shoulders while she moaned loudly, he knew that he wasn’t the only one. He was grunting and moaning himself, loving the feel of every snap of his hips, but when Nat brought a hand up to run through her now messy hair as her eyes closed, he knew she was close and brought his thumb to rub at her sensitive button to help get her over the top.

He bit his lower lip, his forehead creasing with the exertion as he muttered, “C’mon Nattie, I know you’re right there.” 

“Chris,” she moaned, a hand landing on his shoulder, clinging to the muscle there. “Baby, you feel so good.” 

“So do you, Nattie. So fuckin’ good,” he chanted. “Just let go for me, honey.” 

Her chest was heaving with her pants as he rubbed those tight circles and kept his hips hitting her deep and causing Nat to be unable to hold on, her hands grasping at those broad shoulders tightly as her whole body went rigid. She felt how tightly her walls were gripping him, making Chris let out an obscene moan right before Nat cried out as she hit her peak and just as promised, Chris just stared down at her face, wanting to memorize that look. 

It only took him a few more labored thrust to get him spilling out and moaning her name, but as his moans turned to heavy breaths, he couldn’t will himself to pull out of her, just wanting to stay fully connected for another moment. It didn’t take long for his lips to find hers, slowly kissing her as they drifted back to reality. 

But somehow Nat felt as if this was anything but reality. She was back here with Chris, finally getting to be together in person, able to talk without barriers or shitty cell reception, touch one another, and just enjoy the other’s presence. It was something they had gone much too long without and were going to enjoy every second of from here on out, determined to make this last as long as she could manage. She was hopelessly attached to him, in every way, and she only hoped he felt the same. 

A/N: They're reunited! We hope you all enjoyed their homecoming! We can't wait to hear your thoughts, and we'll be back with part two on Thursday!

[justafewsmallsteps]

Hero Inuyasha falls in love with villain kagome au

Modern/superhero au

Oh boy. This was fun and so challenging, mostly because I can’t imagine Kagome being a villain in any world! It’s short and vague, but I enjoyed it. Hope you do too!

When she fired another shot at him, it barely missed his shoulder but the energy burned through his clothes. He hissed as the magic seared his skin.

That was a first.

For a second even she seemed startled, but when he glared at her she quickly turned around and attempted to flee. While she wasn’t really a fighter, she had enough tricks up her sleeve to keep him away.

“Not today!” Inuyasha growled, chasing after her. There was enough distance that she might get away, but he was faster and stronger.

It’d been six months of trying to follow her trail, and he felt himself getting so close. She must have felt it too, because her last attacks were getting sloppy; desperate.

In their earlier encounters, she’d never tried to do more than pin him down so she could escape. As he began closing in she was forced to resort to other methods, breaking out powers she hadn’t before. He knew she could erect temporary barriers and could fire arrows made of energy. Then there was her getaway. Given enough time, she could open a portal in the ground and somehow disappear. It was how she slipped away every single time. Even his high-powered nose couldn’t detect her once she went through it.

Tonight was going to be different. After months of learning how she operated, he was good at reading her and adapting. He was going to catch her and figure out who the hell she was and put an end to her thievery.

“Stay away!” she yelled, jumping down a building and into an alley.

“Like hell I will!” He leapt right after her. He wasn’t going to give her enough time to escape this time!

She landed and quickly threw up a barrier to try and trap him in the corner of the alley. Inuyasha predicted the move, and managed to bounce off the ground before the barrier fully closed in. He could hear her heart racing.

“That’s not going to work on me this time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you!” Her face lit up as she magically formed her bow and arrow. It glowed bright, aimed at him.

He scoffed, continuing to feel the sting of where her arrow had nicked him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

“Sorry,” she seemed to whisper before letting her arrow fly. Then another. And another.

Before he could react, Inuyasha found himself pinned to the barrier, three energy arrows tacking him down by his clothes. She’d done it a few times before.

Goddamit. She was going to get away again.

But for some reason, he could smell tears.

She rushed to his side and sniffled. “Does it hurt?”

He looked over and saw that her glistening eyes were focused on the burn on his shoulder. Inuyasha flinched as her finger swept over the spot. The affected area was increasing. Shit. He hoped it would wear off the way her other powers did.

“Sorry,” she apologized again, and it came across sincerely.

This was so weird. He hated her. She was a thief! She’d managed to evade him for months, and now she was so close and he was just stuck. And she was crying over him? What was happening?

Some part of his mind alerted him that he’s being pinned to her barrier. Her temporary barrier, and if he waited just a little longer he just might catch her if she was foolish enough to stick around and be this close. Surely, she must have known that.

But if she was being careless, he should take advantage.

“What are you doing?” He asked in an effort to stall her.

“I couldn’t go without checking. I—I’ve never hit you before.”

And she was right. He knew that. In fact, it drove him crazy. She clearly had the ability to do serious damage, yet this entire time she’d only ever played cat and mouse, constantly fleeing from his grasp.

“Why do you care about what happens to me?”

She seemed taken aback. “B-because,” she sputtered. “You’re a good person…” Her gray-blue eyes gazed at him from behind her mask with something like admiration.

Inuyasha was so confused.

“I can heal it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “It should wear off, but it’ll take at least twenty-four hours before then. I could heal it now, if you want.”

Even the scrape burned, and it was getting worse by the minute. God, she really could just obliterate him if she wanted.

“Do what you want.” He wanted to ask her why. Why did she care about him? Why would she want to heal him? Why not kill him? Why steal? Why any of it.

Instead he watched in dumbstruck awe as she removed the mask on her face and he saw her for the first time.

Oh. She was pretty. Not just pretty; strikingly beautiful.

“This is going to be awkward, but it’s the only way I know to heal damage from my powers.”

“Wh—!” His face exploded into a blush as she put her lips over the burn. His whole body went aflame. Oh my god, what the fuck was happening? This was seriously intimate. Absolutely inappropriate ideas flashed in his mind and he felt his embarrassment burn the tips of his ears.

But the burn on his shoulder gently cooled, and he was left with an effervescent feeling thrumming in his veins.

“I’ve got to go,” she said in a quiet rush as she pulled away.

He caught that her cheeks were pink.

Her hands motioned to create the portal. After a few seconds, a hole appeared in the ground. She jumped up—

And just at that moment, the barrier flickered away.

“Wait!” Inuyasha leapt up, heart pounding, and grabbed her wrist. Her eyes went wide.

But he can’t stop it. The portal doesn’t just open; it sucks them both in with a flash of blinding blue light.