#pls let me bury a nest in there

[iceclew]

I cannot ignore great art when it is shoved right into my face and I never will <3

The 8 x 9 is so fucking cute, but I can't help myself, I need to look *very* respectfully at my man here.

Lemme just..

ok i'll post my kafnine/kn8x9

[beloveds-embrace]

your omega simon idea makes me both soft for him and salivating at the thought of protecting such a big strong guy, urgh i love it. Giving Si and you a big forehead smooch, i love your brain😩 Very much hoping that your brain keeps thinking about omega simon so we get to feast on this damn good food too

Omega simon does unbelievable things to me 😩 and I am giving you a very big and loud smooch back!! <3 have this little Drabble that i wrote fast (so pls excuse any rushedness and mistakes 😔)

The hangar was buzzing with activity as they finally touched down on base, but neither you nor Ghost paid it any mind. The moment your boots hit the concrete, exhaustion weighed heavier than any gear strapped to your bodies. Without a word, without even glancing back at the others, the two of you slipped away like smoke. Silent, deliberate, and entirely focused on one thing: rest.

Price, Gaz, and Soap barely had tme to finish unloading before they noticed your absence.

“Where the hell did they go?” Soap asked, looking around like the two of you might reappear from thin air.

Price’s eyes scanned the hangar for a sharp second before he sighed, already putting the pieces together. If anything, he’d expected this. “Probably holed up somewhere to rest.”

Gaz groaned, though he couldn’t hide the fond smile that cracks on his face. “They could’ve at least told us first.”

“They didn’t have to,” Price said knowingly. “You saw the state they were in.”

And they had. Weeks of back-to-back missions, constant stress, and frayed nerves had worn everyone thin, but you and Simon had carried it differently. Instincts that screamed for comfort, security, and stability, but the battlefield offered none of that. Now that you were finally safe, it made perfect sense for the two of you to disappear and soothe those raw, overworked instincts.

It took them almost an hour to track you down, and when they did, it was clear why you hadn’t wanted to be found.

The room was dimly lit, smelling faintly of detergent and something softer- vanilla and Simon’s deeper cedarwood scent. Blankets, pillows, and their clothes had been piled high, creating a warm cocoon against the outside world. You were curled up in the center, tucked against Simon’s broad chest, your breathing slow and steady for the first time in days. He had one arm wrapped protectively around you, his mask discarded, revealing a rare look of peace on his face- what part of it that wasn’t buried in your hair.

Soap hesitated at the door, lowering his voice instinctively. “They look…”

“Content.” Gaz supplied, leaning against the frame.

Price crossed his arms, face softening the longer he looked at the two of you. “They needed this.”

It was rare to see Ghost so unguarded, but here- with you- he looked safe, grounded in a way the others knew only you could manage. Your hand was fisted lightly in the fabric of his shirt, and his nose rested in your hair like he’d been breathing you in for hours.

“They’ll come out when they’re ready, let’s leave them to rest.” Price murmured, already turning to shepherd the others away.

“Should we leave food out for them?”

Gaz snorted, rolling his eyes, and gave Soap an amused look. “They’re not strays, Johnny.”

But the idea stuck, and before long, supplies were quietly left at the edge of the nest- water bottles, snacks, and extra blankets. None of them entered the space, knowing better than to disturb their omegas when they were finally at rest.

And when the two of you eventually emerged, bleary-eyed and loose-limbed, the pack was waiting- ready to gather you both into steady, grounding embraces. No words were needed. Just their presence was enough to reassure you that everything was okay.

You and Simon had each other, but you also had them. And in a world that demanded too much, that was enough.

[taycherouzz]

rodrick bf headcanons fem/gen reader pls? 💗🤗

this is a part of what I think Rodrick would be like, hope you liked and enjoyed it!

there is no doubt he ALWAYS invites you to his gigs and band rehearsals

As the band Löaded diper started playing, Rodrick's eyes kept drifting towards you. Every time he looked at you, he couldn't help but smile, his focus wavering. He tried to keep up with the beat, but his mind was clearly elsewhere.

"Rodrick, dude, focus!" one of his bandmates called out, snapping him back to reality.

He chuckled and nodded, trying to concentrate, but it was no use. Your presence was too distracting, and every time he glanced your way, his heart skipped a beat. You couldn't help but blush, knowing you were the reason for his distraction.

During a break, Rodrick came over to you, shaking his head with a grin. "You're killing me here" he teased, his eyes filled with affection.

You laughed, playfully nudging him "I'm just here to support you". "Well, you're doing a great job" he said, leaning in for a quick kiss "Maybe a little too good".

when you both can't sleep (or just out of boredom), he would take you to have late-night drives

The city lights blurred past as you cruised through the streets, the windows rolled down and the cool night air filling the van. He played a mixtape he made just for these drives, the music perfectly capturing the mood.

As he drove, Rodrick took you to a secret spot he had discovered—a hill overlooking the city, where the lights twinkled like stars. He parked the van and you both got out, sitting on the hood and enjoying the breathtaking view.

"This is our little hideaway" he said, taking your hand "Just you and me" you completed his sentence while you smiled.

Rodrick wrapped his arm around you, and you leaned into him, the music still playing in the background while you both looked into the mesmerizing view ahead of you.

I feel like sometimes you both would prank greg

One afternoon, you both decided to play a classic prank on Greg: the old "fake spider in the bed" trick.

You and Rodrick carefully placed a realistic-looking spider under Greg's blanket, making sure it was positioned just right. Then, you both hid around the corner, waiting for Greg to come into his room.

When Greg finally walked in and pulled back his blanket, he let out a loud scream, jumping back in fright. You and Rodrick burst into laughter, high-fiving each other for the successful prank.

Greg quickly realized it was a fake spider and glared at both of you. "Very funny, guys" he muttered in a sarcastic tone while rolling his eyes.

he would 100% teach you how to play drums

"Okay, let's start with the basics" he said, handing you the drumsticks, he sat on the stool and he positioned you on his lap.

Rodrick's arms guided yours as he showed you the proper way to hold the sticks. "It's all about the rhythm. Just feel the beat" he explained, tapping a simple pattern on the snare drum.

You tried to follow his lead, your movements awkward at first. But with his patient guidance and encouragement, you started to get the hang of it. "That's it! You're doing great" he said, a proud smile on his face.

The garage was soon filled with the sound of your combined laughs, and the sense of accomplishment you felt was indescribable.

when you have a sleepover, you would definitely make marathons of horror films or comedies

One rainy Saturday, you decided to have an all-day movie marathon. Rodrick had a stack of DVDs ready, and you both created a cozy nest of blankets and pillows in the living room. As the first movie started, Rodrick pulled you close, his arm around your shoulders.

Halfway through the night, a particularly scary scene made you jump, and you buried your face in Rodrick's shoulder. He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her tighter "Don't worry, I've got you" he reassured.

Between movies, you'd debate which one was the scariest or funniest, sharing your favorite scenes and inside jokes.

By the end of the night, you were both sleepy but happy, the warmth of your time together lingering long after the credits rolled.

he has no problem on letting you use his löaded diper shirts, but I feel like he would make one shirt specially for you

Rodrick was incredibly proud of his band, Löded Diper, and he loved seeing you in their merch. One day, he surprised you with a special gift: a custom band T-shirt. The front had the band's logo, but it was the back that made you smile the most—it boldly read "Drummer's GF".

"You like it?" he asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.

You grinned and nodded "I love it! It’s perfect".

Every time you wore the shirt, Rodrick's face would light up with pride. He'd often brag to his bandmates about his amazing girlfriend who supported him wholeheartedly.

despite his though side, he has a soft spot for you, which causes him to be protective over you

One evening, you both decided to go to a local concert. The venue was packed, and the crowd was getting rowdy.

You felt a bit overwhelmed by the pushing and shoving, and Rodrick immediately noticed. Without a second thought, he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to his side.

"Stay close to me" he whispered in your ear. He navigated through the crowd, making sure you were safe and comfortable.

Throughout the night, he kept a watchful eye on you, ensuring that no one got too close or made you uncomfortable.

he would definitely make you a mixtape with songs that reminded him of you, and you listen to it together in his van while he explains why that song (or which part) made him think of you

You were parked in Rodrick's van, the low hum of the engine barely audible over the mixtape he'd made for you. The song "Think About You" by Guns N' Roses started to play, and Rodrick turned to you with a soft smile.

"Listen to this" he said, his eyes meeting yours "these lyrics made me think of you".

As the song played, he explained "It's the way the song talks about always having you on my mind. Whenever I'm not with you, I miss you... God that was just so corny" he muffled with a chuckle while looking down.

But he lifted his gaze and saw you blushing, feeling your heart swell with emotion. Rodrick's hand found yours, and you sat in comfortable silence, letting the music speak for the both of you.

you would help him with homework and have study sessions together (but you always end up making out instead)

Books and notes were spread out on Rodrick's bed, ready for today's session, but it didn't took long for distractions to take over.

As you leaned in to explain a math problem, Rodrick's lips found yours in a quick kiss, and then another, and another one after that, until you find yourself making out with him instead of studying.

"C'mon, Rod, we have to study" you murmured between kisses, trying to stay focused.

"One more, and then we'll study" he promised, but his lips met yours again, and you couldn't help but kiss him back.

Your kisses grew more frequent, each one stealing your breath away. You kept trying to remind him of your homework, but his persistence made you lose track of time.

Each kiss pulled you deeper into the moment, and soon enough, the textbooks were forgotten as you got lost in each other.

[hallelujahmeatgod]

Co-Habitants, Co-Conspirators, Kind of in Love (but they don’t know it yet or refuse to admit it hehe)

Headcanons for Arranged Marriage Sylus and Y/N:

First off, Luke and Kieran absolutely live with them—there’s no question about it.

Sylus, being the considerate person he is, lets Y/N take the lead on most decisions about their living arrangements. Even though they barely know each other, he wants to make sure she feels at ease in their shared space. From his perspective, the marriage was already decided for them, so the last thing he wants is to make it any more difficult or uncomfortable for her than it already might be.

To say Sylus was surprised would be an understatement when he and Y/N arrived to check out the house they’d be living in temporarily while waiting for their actual one to be built. (Leave it to the filthy rich to commission a full-sized house as if they’re planning to use every square inch. But with these two? Realistically, only their bedrooms, office, and the kitchen recognize them.)

As they’re walking through the place, Y/N swings open the only double-door room and says confidently, “Aaand this will be the twins’ humble abode. I hope they’re cool with sharing. Actually, wait—do they even share rooms? Have they ever? Why did I just assume that because they’re twins—”

“Excuse me?” Sylus blinks at her like she’s grown a third head. “Luke and Kieran are staying with us?”

Y/N gives him the most baffled look in return. “Umm, yeah? Don’t you guys come as a set? Wherever you are, the twins are right there. Isn’t this a buy-one-get-two kind of deal?”

HECK EVEN MEPHISTO HAS HIS OWN DAMN "Nest" IN THE HOUSE PLS 😭

(lowkey, even he doesn't know it yet, but this made Sylus fall head over heels mehehehe).

There’s always food in the house—both in terms of cooked meals and a fully stocked pantry. Well, except for that one time Sylus conveniently ignored a full week of Y/N’s nagging over Sylus' turn to do the damn grocery shopping.

Both of them can cook, let’s get that straight. Sylus? Of course. The man’s got his life in order. And Y/N, being the second eldest in her family, practically grew up as the built-in second mom, so cooking and feeding others have always come naturally to her.

As for the twins? They’re absolutely spoiled when it comes to food. From the day they all started living together, Y/N made it part of her routine to ask Luke and Kieran what they wanted to eat—no days off, no exceptions. And when she has to be away, she meal preps in advance, complete with cute sticky notes that explain how to reheat the dishes, how long to microwave them, and any little details they might need.

Now, Sylus? That’s a different story. Y/N never asked him what he wanted to eat. Not because she didn’t care, but because something about it felt too intimate. Too personal. And that kind of vulnerability? A little too much to handle at the time.

But just because she didn’t ask doesn’t mean she didn’t know.

Our girliepop is a successful woman on her own, she's a little smarty pants. Soooo she OBSERVES.

She quietly took note of the meals Sylus liked, the way he liked his coffee, how he preferred his steak, his go-to snacks, and even his favorite drink flavors. She didn’t need to ask—she watched, learned, and ✨delivered✨

So while he never hears the question “What do you want to eat?,” there’s always a cup of coffee waiting for him on the counter when she heads out before him. During dinner, along with the twins’ requests, is a dish she knows Sylus likes. The pantry is mysteriously stocked with the exact snacks he likes—the ones he absentmindedly munched on while buried in paperwork, not realizing she’d passed by and noticed.

And Sylus? He absolutely matches that energy. It’s just who he is. He learns her favorites and tucks them away like second nature—her go-to snacks in the glove compartment of his car, or stashed in the hidden inner pockets of his coat (pls this is so cute huhu), ready for when she's feeling a little snackish. 🥹

They may not say much—but in that house, love is served daily. Quietly, attentively, and always with care.

Y/N is absolutely the cool, laid-back mom of the house—the one who secretly lets the twins get away with things Sylus definitely wouldn’t approve of.

Twins are grounded? Y/N’s first response is, “How is he grounding you when you're fully grown?” 

Sylus cuts them off from sweets because they’re getting a little too hyper? Y/N’s already sliding a stash of candy and soda under their bedroom door like a snack smuggler. Picture that viral video of an aunt sneaking soda to her niece/nephew in the kitchen while the kid’s mom isn’t looking? Yeah. That’s her.

At one point, Y/N and Sylus actually argued over who would pay the bills—not because either of them wanted to avoid it, but because both of them insisted on covering everything. That’s just rich people problems for you. Eventually, they found peace through the only method that made sense: a spreadsheet.

Yes, they now have a shared spreadsheet meticulously detailing every single bill, who's paying what, due dates, and notes. It’s color-coded, probably password-protected, and flawless. And honestly, they overpay sometimes just for the hell of it—because why not?

When they all actually have time to sit down and eat together, the conversation flow is always the same: Luke, Kieran, and Y/N bouncing off each other in chaotic harmony, while Sylus watches silently—utterly entertained.

He’s especially amused by Y/N. Despite her image as a sophisticated, composed, and highly respected professional, she somehow matches the twins' chaotic energy perfectly.

Having lived with them for years, Sylus knows that 99.9% of the time, the twins are going to launch into conversations about the most absurd, bizarre topics imaginable—aliens, conspiracy theories, impractical inventions you’d never expect anyone to actually try building.

Y/N? She dives right in. She’s not just listening—she’s invested. Asking questions. Offering theories. Getting just as animated as the twins.

To Sylus, it’s absolutely priceless. Watching her—his wife—flourish in their weird little world without missing a beat? That’s something he never saw coming, but now can’t imagine living without.

Their house is immaculately clean, tidy, and borderline untouched. No one’s home all the time anyway. 

Their offices, on the other hand? Chaos incarnate. But to be fair, that’s where all the magic happens, and it shows.

On the RARE occasion their house isn’t spotless, there are only two things consistently found scattered around: 1) Paperwork and important documents; 2) Sylus’ chaotic pile of shopping bags and ridiculous impulse buys

And yes, Sylus owns way more shopping bags than Y/N.

He shops like it's a sport.

The man's a HOARDER, especially when it comes to anything that glimmers, glitters, or vaguely resembles treasure. If it sparkles, it comes home.

One particularly offensive purchase? A fully crystal-encrusted luggage. Mmhm, you read that right--CRYSTAL FUCKING ENCRUSTED BITCH.

Y/N’s reaction: “Seriously?” Cue Sylus proudly spinning it around to show off its sparkle.

“What? Cool, right?” he says, all smug.

It’s a guaranteed way to trigger someone’s astigmatism,” she deadpanned. “That thing’s offensive.”

“Hey! That’s mean, princess,” he pouted. “It’s custom Swarovski. I like to travel in style.”

“You’re deranged.”

He just winked. “Deranged with taste.

And honestly? He wasn’t even wrong.

But Sylus impulsively shops not just for himself, but for the whole crib!

One day, Y/N walks into her office and finds an extravagant jewelry set casually sitting on her desk. It screams the type of Jewelry they’d target at Ocean’s 8.

Next to it is a handwritten note from the culprit himself, which says: “Won this at the auction today. Thought the color would suit you. Feel free to do whatever with it. Pawn it if you want!”

Y/N reads it and almost hears his voice, all nonchalant and bored—like he didn’t just probably pay millions for it….for no reason.

Of course, she has to mess with him. She texts: “Is this even worth anything? Looks basic to me.” And sits back, snickering while she watches him typing a response.

A minute later, he sends: “It could probably buy you a decent lunch 🤷🏻‍♂���”

Yup. Best believe both of them are grinning like absolute lovesick fools at their phones—much to the concern of their poor staff, who now have no idea how to deliver reports to bosses that have been acting way too strange ever since tying the knot.

Can you just imagine Sylus’ staff? Their feared boss? GRINNING at his phone? They’ve never seen him smile like that before. Sure, he’s always smiling—but it’s the cold, terrifying kind. The 'run before he assigns you triple the work' or 'seconds away from ripping your report to shreds’ kind. This? This soft, genuine smile? Yeah, they’re horrified. One poor intern almost cried 😭

Ya'll once again, I feel like I could just keep writing these help. But this is what I've got for now. Let me keep cooking 😌

[overtake]

I’m sorry we need about 5k more words of mechanic Daniel driver max pls and ty!!!

Part One

I’m actually so shocked (but pleasantly surprised and honored!) by people enjoying this verse because I almost deleted it without posting. I don’t have 5k more, but I can offer 1.2k!

I still lowkey hate this - and you can definitely tell I have no vision for where this story would go, hence why it’s just harping on the same 3 details we already knew - but it’s all yours and I hope you have a good time reading it anyway :)

Five minutes into pretending to examine an engine instead of obsess over what Max said, Daniel breaks.

“Did you mention me to Max?” he asks Cyril, trying to come across casual.

Cyril looks at him disbelievingly. “Max Verstappen is in our garage and you think I talked about you at all?”

Daniel lifts a hand to his chest and feigns being shot. “People love me, you know. Guys are all over this.”

Cyril heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “Get to work, Daniel.”

Daniel’s lucky, given his condition, that everything is relatively routine today. He does three oil changes, and he could kiss those people’s feet for it.

He’s mentally preparing himself to slide under a car, wincing at much more congested he’ll be once he emerges again, when Max suddenly appears in the corner of the garage.

“Hello,” he says. He does a cute little half-wave to get Daniel’s attention.

“Hey,” Daniel says, straightening and rubbing his grimy hands on his thighs. “Cyril’s working on your car, so he’ll have any updates you need.”

“It’s not my car, just a rental,” Max dismisses. “No, I just have …” He cuts himself off, turns a sweet pink on the apples of his cheeks. “You sounded sick earlier and looked really pale. I brought you soup.”

He lifts a takeaway bag from the cafe down the street, which usually specializes in ten dollar lattes and sandwiches with names so cutesy, you have to practice five times to order without shame.

Daniel smiles at the idea of Max Verstappen, world champion, saying one of those horrible names for Daniel’s benefit. “You didn’t have to do that. Thank you. Let me pay you back.”

Max shakes his head. “It’s my thanks for fixing the car.”

Daniel raises his eyebrows. “So what soup did you get Cyril, who’s actually doing that?”

Max scrunches his nose in disgust. “You cannot expect me to say the name Noodle Nest Paradise more than one time.”

“How many times did you laugh trying to get that out?”

Max shudders. “I pretended to speak really bad English and just pointed at the menu.”

“So you could’ve ordered multiple,” Daniel points out. Max very blatantly pretends not to hear. He focuses instead on pulling a little bag from the order and holding it up proudly, smiling a crinkly-eyed smile.

“I got you crackers!”

Eating soup with Max Verstappen is an out of body experience.

Daniel’s been eating his soup over the coffee table in the office because it felt wrong to make Max sit at the grimy, wobbly table in the closet-sized corner of the garage where Daniel and Cyril usually change and scarf down meals. This, however, means they’re stuck together on the loveseat. Max’s expensive skinny jeans knock knees with Daniel’s greasy coveralls when they get too into the conversation.

Daniel knows he’s being a terrible conversationalist, especially at first. His normal easy charisma is buried somewhere in the pile of tissues he’s burning through. He’s basically just answering Max’s rapid-fire questions about his life, his job, his family, his non-existent partner (“do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or anything?” Max had asked, and looked remarkably pleased by Daniel’s answer of no).

Daniel’s about 87% sure he’s being hit on right now. It’s a nice confidence booster given how much of a mess he looks, but it’s not like it matters. Max is Max, and Max is F1, and Max doesn’t live here.

He likes Max, though, the longer they talk. He likes his eagerness, his down-to-earth nature, his total lack of interest in discussing racing. Max delights in all Daniel’s behaviours that usually make people roll their eyes and wait for him to be done, whereas Max leans into Daniel’s dumb songs or drawn out jokes. He likes the long lashes that frame Max’s bright, happy eyes, and soft double chin he gets when he ducks his head into his laugh.

Daniel’s not sure how much time passes before Cyril comes in, but he knows his voice has faded to practically nothing, and he’s having to constantly turn to avoid coughing on Max.

Cyril’s timing is rather unfortunate, entering just as Daniel breaks into a particularly rough wheeze. Max is patting his back gently, which Cyril will definitely have words about later. Presently, however, he seems too concerned about Daniel’s wellbeing to lecture him about appropriate contact with famous customers.

“Daniel. Go home,” he orders, voice kind but firm. His tone leaves no room for argument, not that Daniel really wants to fight him on it. He’s enjoying this, but his brain and body feel as if they’re wading through a pool of thick custard.

“Are you okay to drive?” Max checks. His eyebrows are knitted in sweet concern, like Daniel actually might keel over and die in the ten-minute ride home.

“All good,” Daniel promises. He stands, then promptly has to collapse back onto the couch when black spots dot his vision.

“I’m driving you,” Cyril says firmly.

“I just stood up too fast.” Sure, he’s a little woozier than expected, but he could do this drive blindfolded and half-dead.

“I’ll drive you,” Max says. “I mean, Cyril has work to do, but I’m just sitting here.”

“How do I know you won’t kidnap me or steal my car?” Daniel rasps.

“He’s not worth kidnapping, and selling his car probably couldn’t cover an oil change for the kinds of cars you drive,” Cyril informs Max. He ignores Daniel’s protests, then pushes Daniel back down to the couch when he half-rises from it.

“Stay. I will get your keys and bag.”

The second Daniel’s brain understands that he’s off-duty, that it’s no longer expected to carry him through the day, it mostly blacks out, and everything is a blur from there.

He’s pretty confident Cyril steals his phone to call his mum, which is vaguely embarrassing but perhaps necessary given his current state. He knows Cyril gives Max directions to Daniel’s parents’ place instead of his own. He feels Max’s hands help him into the passenger seat, and he definitely mutters some fever-addled sentences on the drive. That’s about all he remembers until he wakes up in his childhood bed, shivering and sweating while his mum runs a hand through his hair and forces medicine down his throat, before he falls back asleep again.

When he finally comes to enough to make his way downstairs, he finds his parents seated at the kitchen table. His mum jumps up, forces him into a chair and fusses over him while simultaneously lecturing him about going to work sick. His dad just sits there, eyebrows half-raised, until Daniel is settled with food and water.

“So. You had an exciting day at work.”

He slides a piece of scrap paper across the table. There, under some advertisement for gardening services, is a scrawled message in red pen:

It was lovely to meet you (again). I hope the terribly named soup made you feel better! :)

- Max

Under his name, Max has scrawled a phone number.

Daniel runs his finger over the lines, feeling the imprint of each number that Max etched into the paper. It’s neatly written, far more cautious and intentional than the rest of the words, as if to ensure that no digit could be misread or smudged.

Daniel pauses, processes the full note, and double backs to the word ‘again.’

“Yeah,” Daniel croaks through the stabbing pains in his throat. He stares at the word harder, like it might reveal what the fuck Max means by again. “I guess today was pretty interesting.”

[magic-shop-stories]

Hey sweetheart, I was wondering how BTS would cuddle their daughter if they had one? Could you write that pls?

💌 Reply:

HI ANGEL. 💜 This request had me kicking my feet and squealin, Dad!Bangtan owns my entire soul. THANK YOU so so much!😭 I hope it's what you wanted, if not feel free to let me know and i am going to try my best to adjust. Also - let me know if you want a part 2 with sons maybe? Thank you for this wholesome, heart-melting ask. You’re a gem. 🌟 – C –🍪

BTS as Dads - Headcanons

How They’d Cuddle Their Daughter 

↳ BTS!Dad's x Daughter

Pairings: none ( BTS Members x Child!Reader (platonic/Parent-Child)) Rating: G (general audiences) Genre: family fluff, hurt/comfort, slice-of-life Warnings: none (mild themes: scraped knees, childhood anxieties, bedtime tears)

NAMJOON Philosopher’s Embrace = Quiet, Thoughtful

WHEN IT HAPPENS

after bedtime stories

during rainy Sunday mornings

= when the world feels slow and soft

he’s drawn to cuddle when she asks big questions

“Appa, why do stars die?”

when she’s quietly drawing beside him

(brow furrowed in concentration)

FAVORITE PLACE

window nook/ home library

surrounded by shelves of weathered books

plush sage-green cushion he bought just for her

it’s tucked under a bay window overlooking the garden

sunlight (or moonlight) spills in like liquid gold

calls it their “cosmic cocoon”

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"scholar’s cradle"

she sits sideways in his lap

back against his chest

his arms looped loosely around her waist

one hand holds whatever book they’re reading

the other absentmindedly twirls her hair

Gentle Gestures

traces constellations on her palm when she’s restless

“This one’s Orion. He’s brave, like you.”

lets her fiddle with his bracelets

even when the clinking distracts him

“Music to think by...”

THINGS HE SAYS

Whispered Wisdom

“You’re my favorite mystery, bug. Never stop wondering.”

Playful Teasing

“If you keep stealing my glasses, I’ll have to charge rent.” 

buys her tiny fake ones the next day

Reassurance

after nightmares

“Even the moon has shadows. But look... it still shines.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

brews honey-lemon tea for himself

hot cocoa with star-shaped marshmallows for her

mugs are mismatched

his says “World’s Okayest Dad”

hers “Future CEO of the Universe”

Blankets

chunky knit throw she’s claimed as her “thinking cape” 

he’ll drape it over both of them

even if his legs hang off the nook

Scents

his hoodie

which she’s always stealing

smells like sandalwood and the faintest hint of his cologne

pretends not to notice when she buries her face in it

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she’s struggling with a school project

frustrated tears pooling

Namjoon closes her textbook

“Come here, universe.”

What He Does

sits cross-legged on the floor

pulling her into his lap

opens Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet to a dog-eared page

“Listen... ‘Let life happen to you. Believe me: life is right, in any case.’”

lets her cry into his sweater

his chin resting on her head

“You don’t have to get it right. You just have to be.”

Aftermath

she falls asleep there

he carries her to bed

“You’re already enough...”

leaves a sticky note on her mirror

“P.S. You’re my favorite galaxy. – Appa”

JIN Playful Protector = Laughter, Love

WHEN IT HAPPENS

during kitchen adventures

or after epic pillow fights

= when the air is thick with giggles and the scent of burnt cookies

Jin’s cuddles are spontaneous

swooping in after she faceplants into a failed cartwheel

when she’s sulking because her Lego tower collapsed

“Appa’s here! Time for Emergency Hug Protocol!”

FAVORITE PLACE

kitchen island

flour-dusted

littered with half-eaten snacks

he’ll plop her onto the countertop while he bakes

legs swinging as she “supervises”

alternatively, the living room fort

he builds it weekly

= chaotic nest of blankets, fairy lights, every plushie they own

“This is our Palace of Dad-jestic Snuggles” 

bowing as she giggles

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"helicopter hug" 

sweeps her up mid-laugh

spins her in dizzying circles

collapses onto the couch with her sprawled on his chest

“Appa’s vertigo is worth it.”

Gentle Gestures

pretends to steal her nose

“grafts” it back with a nose kiss

“Upgraded to 4K! Now go sniff my cookies.”

lets her style his hair with glitter clips

“I’m Fabulous Appa now. Bow to my sparkle.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Dad Jokes Supreme

“Are you a burrito? Because I wanna wrap you up and never let go.”

Affectionate Teasing

“Yah, you’re too cute. Are you trying to make ARMY jealous?”

Reassurance

after a scraped knee

he grins

“Scars are just tattoos with better stories. Now let’s bribe the pain with ice cream.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

hot chocolate with whipped cream mustaches

matches with hers

his mug: “Worldwide Handsome” 

hers: “Worldwide Daddy’s Girl”

Snacks

plate of “Jin-ius Cookies” 

slightly charred

heart-shaped

“Burnt edges build character. You’re my masterpiece.”

Scents

his apron smells like vanilla and mischief

she steals it as a blanket

“Hey! That’s my dad armor!”

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she’s crying after losing a soccer game

Jin drops to one knee

hands on her shoulders

“Listen. Losing means you’re trying. And trying means you’re awesome.”

What He Does

Step 1

pulls a “magic tissue” from his sleeve

it’s just a napkin with a doodle of her as a soccer champ

Step 2

challenges her to a “Sadness Takedown”

tickling until she’s breathless

“Victory! Now, where’s my trophy?”

Step 3

cradles her in his lap

voice softening

“You know Appa’s real trophy? You. Now let’s plot our revenge… with sprinkles.”

Aftermath

they bake a soccer ball-shaped cake

Jin “accidentally” drops icing everywhere

“Oops. Guess we’ll have to lick the evidence.”

YOONGI Silent Sanctuary = Comfort in Quiet Corners

WHEN IT HAPPENS

late at night

or during early mornings

= when the world is still and his studio lights glow dimly

he’s not one for scheduled affection

notices when she lingers in the doorway

clutching her stuffed tiger after a nightmare

or when she’s curled up on the couch looking small

Yoongi’s cuddles are rare but intentional

reserved for moments when words feel too heavy or the world too loud

FAVORITE PLACE

studio couch

she names it "The worn leather piece shoved against the wall beside his mixing desk..."

strewn with a faded navy blanket she knitted him (badly) when she was seven

a pillow she insists smells like “Appa’s coffee and safety.”

he’ll clear a space among his lyric notebooks

“You’re messing up my system...”

his eyes soften when she settles in

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"anchor hug" 

she tucks herself under his arm

her head resting against his chest while he works

his free hand stays on his keyboard

his other arm tightens around her shoulders every few minutes

like he’s checking she’s still there

Gentle Gestures

ruffles her hair roughly when she’s being clingy

his palm lingers

“Yah. You’re blocking the screen.” 

tho he doesn’t move her

lets her fiddle with his rings or the hem of his hoodie

she fell asleep twisting his silver bracelet?

he sat frozen for hours to avoid waking her

THINGS HE SAYS

Dry Affection

“You’re like a barnacle. Can’t even produce in peace.” 

says this while adjusting the blanket over her

Unexpected Wisdom

after a bad day

“The world’s full of idiots. Don’t let them rent space in your head.”

Late-Night Truths

“You’re the only one I’d pause a track for. Don’t get used to it.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

black coffee for him

strawberry milk, warmed, for her

because “cold milk’s bad for your throat”

keeps a stash in the studio fridge

labeled “DO NOT TOUCH – HYUNG’S PROPERTY.”

Soundtrack

plays his “Calm Down” playlist

= lo-fi beats, rain sounds

she caught him adding her laughter to a track

“It’s for… texture”

Scents

his hoodie smells like cedarwood and studio dust

she steals it constantly

“Bring it back washed this time.” 

he never checks

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she bombs a piano recital

tears streaming as she slumps into the studio

What He Does

silently saves his project

spins his chair around

opens his arms

“Come here.”

lets her cry into his shoulder

hand steady on her back

no platitudes

just the hum of his computer and his heartbeat

when she calms, he nudges her toward the piano

“Play it again. I’ll tell you where you messed up.” 

by the third try, she’s grinning

“Better. Now go to bed.”

Aftermath

leaves a sticky note on her sheet music

“Beethoven sucked at your age too. – Appa.”

J-HOPE Sunshine Swaddle = Energetic, Affectionate

WHEN IT HAPPENS

after dance parties

during post-meltdown recovery

J-Hope thrives on cuddling

= when she’s buzzing with energy or needs a soft landing after a tough day

he’s especially attuned to her “I’m frustrated but won’t admit it” pouts

swooping in with a hug before the first tear falls

FAVORITE PLACE

rainbow rug in his home dance studio

surrounded by disco ball lights and a pile of sequined throw pillows

calls it their “joy junction” 

walls are plastered with her finger paintings, and a neon sign:

“Hobi & [Her Name]’s Happy Place.”

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"spin-and-squeeze"

starts with a twirl

dipping her dramatically before collapsing into a giggling heap on the floor

she ends up half in his lap, half tangled in a blanket

he peppers her face with kisses

Gentle Gestures

brushes her hair into silly styles (space buns, braids with neon ribbons)

humming BTS tracks

“Gotta match Appa’s vibe, yeah?”

lets her doodle on his arms with glitter pens

“Tattoo Appa’s new sleeve! Make it fierce!”

THINGS HE SAYS

Hype Man Anthems

“You’re my main character, baby! The world’s gonna bow to your sparkle!”

Playful Negotiations

“Ten more minutes of snuggles, then we slay that math homework. Deal? Deal.”

Reassurance

after a bad dream

“Monsters hate confetti. Good thing Appa’s a party.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

banana milk for her (with a pink striped straw)

iced matcha latte for him or strawberry milk

her cup has a doodle of his face winking

his says “World’s #1 Appa” in her handwriting

Blankets

rainbow tie-dye fleece he bought at a flea market

“This is our happiness cloak. Wear it and shine, okay?”

Scents

his hoodie smells like cotton candy body spray (her favorite)

faintest hint of his dance studio’s wood polish

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she bombs a dance recital audition

convinced she’s “the worst” 

J-Hope finds her sobbing in his studio

shoes thrown in a corner

What He Does

cues up “Chicken Noodle Soup”

does an intentionally goofy dance

flapping his arms like a chicken

“Look! Appa’s awful! Now you try!”

when she laughs, he pulls her into a bear hug

rocking side to side

“Mistakes are just confetti on the floor. We sweep ’em up and dance harder.”

teaches her his “bad day mantra”

“I’m Jung Hoseok’s kid. I’m unstoppable.”

Aftermath

demands a remix of the routine

he films it, posts it privately with the caption:

“MY REAL MAIN DANCER” 

sets it as his phone wallpaper

JIMIN Heartbeat Embrace = Tender, Protective

WHEN IT HAPPENS

after dance practice

during late-night heart-to-hearts

= when emotions run high

Jimin instinctively pulls her close when she’s overwhelmed

whether she’s tearful after a school play audition or buzzing with excitement over a new friend

he’s also prone to impromptu cuddles mid-activity

like pausing a movie because “Appa needs a hug attack!”

FAVORITE PLACE

velvet chaise lounge in his home dance studio

draped in fairy lights and piled with silk pillows

it’s positioned beside a floor-to-ceiling mirror

so he can watch her expressions as they talk

he calls it their “safety net”

twirls and tears are equally welcome

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"heartbeat hug" 

she sits facing him

legs wrapped around his waist

her ear pressed to his chest

he sways gently

as if dancing to a silent song

one hand cradling her head

the other rubbing slow circles on her back

Gentle Gestures

brushes her hair away from her face with his fingertips

tucking it behind her ear

“There’s my sunshine.”

traces the shape of hearts on her palm when she’s anxious

humming the melody of “Serendipity”

THINGS HE SAYS

Soft Affirmations

“You’re Appa’s masterpiece. Every part of you.”

Playful Promises

“If anyone hurts you, I’ll challenge them to a dance battle. And I’ll win.”

Reassurance

after a meltdown

“Even the moon cries sometimes. But it always comes back brighter.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

makes her vanilla steamed milk

with edible glitter “for sparkles” 

his mug? `black coffee

but he rarely drinks it

too busy watching her giggle at the shimmer

Blankets

pastel pink weighted blanket he bought after researching “anxiety relief” 

she calls it her “cloud”

Scents

his hoodies

which he “accidentally” leaves in her room

she steals his Chimmy Hoodie

smells like jasmine and warm sugar

= a mix of his cologne and the candles he burns to calm her nerves

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she bombs a piano recital

fleeing the stage in tears

Jimin finds her hiding in his studio closet

knees to her chest

What He Does

sinks to the floor

gathering her into his lap without a word

presses her hand to his chest

“Feel that? That’s your rhythm. It doesn’t have to match anyone else’s.”

sings “Promise” sotto voce

his breath ruffling her hair

“You’re allowed to stumble, baby. Appa’s still here.”

Aftermath

she falls asleep clutching his sleeve

he carries her to bed

leaving a note on her music sheet

“Next time, play your song. I’ll be your audience of one. – Appa”

TAEHYUNG Whimsical Embrace = Artistic, Playful

WHEN IT HAPPENS

during impromptu adventures

or quiet, creative afternoons

Taehyung thrives on spontaneity

cuddles strike when she’s least expecting it

= mid-painting session, after a backyard "dragon hunt," or when he catches her daydreaming by the window

he’s especially drawn to snuggles when she’s lost in her imagination

eyes wide with stories he’s eager to hear

FAVORITE PLACE

bohemian-style attic studio

designed just for them

cluttered with vintage trinkets, half-finished canvases, giant velvet sofa buried under patchwork quilts

twinkle lights dangle from the ceiling

walls are covered in their joint art projects

= finger paintings, pressed flowers, polaroids of their "world travels" (aka the backyard)

calls it their “Kingdom of Daydreams”

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"artist’s hug"

scoops her up sideways

spinning once before collapsing onto the sofa

her giggling on his chest

he’ll adjust her so she’s tucked under his arm

her head resting where his heartbeat is loudest

Gentle Gestures

braids her hair while humming 

weaving ribbons or wildflowers he “found”

= stole from the neighbor’s garden

lets her paint his nails while he sketches her

“Purple today? Genius. Now hold still... Appa’s capturing your soul.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Whimsical Promises

“One day, we’ll ride a hot-air balloon to the moon. For now, this blanket fort is our spaceship.”

Playful Teasing

“Yah, your doodles are better than mine. Unacceptable.”

hangs them on the fridge anyway

Reassurance

when she’s shy about her art

“The best masterpieces take time. You’re my masterpiece.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Drinks

hot chcolate in vintage glass bottles for both of them

he adds whipped cream to hers 

“...for cosmic energy.”

Snacks

animal-shaped cookies he bakes (terribly)

insiststhey are “abstract art” 

she laughs at his lopsided giraffes

eats them anyway

Blankets

retro floral quilt from his grandmother 

“This is history, baby. And now it’s ours.”

Scents

attic smells like acrylic paint, cinnamon candles, and the leather jacket she stole from him

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she’s nervous about a school play

convinced she’ll “forget the whole universe”

Taehyung cancels his schedule

What He Does

builds a blanket fort shaped like a castle

complete with a cardboard crown for her

“Princess Director, your throne awaits!”

acts out her lines with exaggerated drama

making her laugh until she snorts

“See? The audience will love your snorts. I do.”

pulls her into his lap

wrapping them both in the quilt

“If you get scared, just look for me. I’ll be the one doing this...” 

crosses his eyes, sticks out his tongue

Aftermath

she nails the performance

he’s front row

wearing a shirt with her face on it

yelling “THAT’S MY BABY!” 

later, they celebrate with a midnight picnic in the attic

eating burnt cookies and plotting their next “adventure”

JUNGKOOK Golden Retriever Glomp = Playful, Protective

WHEN IT HAPPENS

after high-energy play

= like tag, dance-offs, or wrestling matches

or when she’s feeling vulnerable

= a scraped knee, a bad dream, or school stress

Jungkook’s cuddles are equal parts celebration and comfort

= a safe harbor in his whirlwind world

FAVORITE PLACE

living room floor

buried under a mountain of pillows and blankets

= from the "Jungkook Fortress"

builds it weekly (stole it from Jin Hyung)

it’s a chaotic nest of fairy lights, stuffed BT21 characters, his old concert hoodies...

calls it their “No-Sadness Zone”

HOW HE HOLDS HER

"bear hug lift"

swoops her up

spins her until she giggles

collapses onto the couch with her

she is sprawled across his chest

“Appa’s heartbeat... count it! Faster than your bunny’s, right?”

Gentle Gestures

rubs his nose against hers when she’s shy

“Secret handshake. Don’t tell Uncle Hobi.”

carries her piggyback-style while making snacks

“Gotta multitask, champ.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Playful Praise

“You’re my ultimate bias, okay? Don’t tell the others.”

Encouragement

after a soccer loss

“You’ll crush ’em next time. But for now… snack attack!”

Bilingual Love

mixes Korean and English

“Saranghae, my little superstar.”

RITUALS & EXTRAS

Snacks

choco pies and strawberry/banana milk

he’ll even let her draw on his face with the milk mustache

“Masterpiece. Let’s scare Mama.”

Blankets

BTS concert blanket

he stole from the merch stash

“Shhh. It’s our secret.”

Music

plays acoustic covers of BTS songs

“This one’s called ‘Appa’s Girl.’ Top secret track.”

“SNUGGLE SNAP” MOMENT

she comes home crying after a friend’s birthday party

she felt left out

Jungkook ditches his workout

still sweaty

tackles the problem head-on

What He Does

builds the biggest blanket fort yet

complete with a “No Meanies Allowed” sign

challenges her to a dance-off to “Anpanman”

letting her win with a dramatic collapse

“You’re too powerful!”

pulls her into a bear hug

“Appa’s got you. Always. And hey, we don’t need a squad. We’re army of two.”

Aftermath

she falls asleep mid-cuddle

head on his shoulder

he posts a selfie of them both

her face smushed against his bicep

captioned: “My MVP.” 

ARMY loses their minds

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 3 - Nesting (CopiaAetherCumulus)

I'm not allowing myself to write ridiculously long things for these Or Else I'll never get them done. thank you to everyone who answered my panicked text post about who to write with aether. pls know im taking considerations and will work the others into other fics <3

short and sweet alluding to aether's weird heat cycle which maybe ill write about on a longer scale one day but for now c'est la vie.

-----

There's an itching under his skin that makes him grimace as he slips out of bed that morning—the date on his desk calendar is circled three times in red and underlined twice with a blue pen, a crude little heart drawn beside it (courtesy of Rain) and Aether already wishes he could crawl back into bed.

His heats aren't necessarily the worst, but they're also not the easiest—the lethargy, the cloudy headedness, the tiredness, he's not looking forward to being so tired for the next several days, wanting to stay in bed buried under the scent of his pack until the aches and pains go away—

Aether huffs, rolls his eyes at himself and gets dressed for the day—he's got several things to check off before he can succumb to the pull of heat, as he steadies himself to leave his room, he gives himself grace of all things, an allowance to exist in a way that is outside of what others would expect of him—the headstrong leader of the pack.

When he finally opens his door to leave, Copia's standing there—carrying an armful of blankets.

"Frater?" Aether asks, only slightly confused, but beyond that, there's something like hope building in his chest, "What's all of this?"

Copia shifts the armful of blankets, one of them is a royal blue color, almost similar to that of his robe, spilling out among the others, down his arms and into the floor, he's standing on one corner of it, not that he's paying any attention to that and he just sort of shrugs, "It's been unnaturally warm," he says, as if that explains everything, "And today is the twelfth," he smiles at Aether, "Have you built your nest yet?"

"Oh," Aether says, "No," he turns back and looks over at his bed, the sheets and blankets are still messy, but it's devoid of nest materials, "Not yet, I was going to get supplies, do some paperwork before I did any of that."

A hum and Copia goes to step forward but his foot gets caught in the blanket and he stumbles, Aether reaching out to catch him—and it's so absurd that the laughter bubbles up before either of them can help it, and Aether's clutching at Copia who's clutching at a pile of blankets that smell like packhomefamily until their laughter tapers off into giggles.

"Don't worry about the paperwork," Copia finally says, smiling up at Aether, not moving to untangle himself from the ghoul's arms, "I've got you on heat leave for the week. Your only responsibility is to let me take care of you right now."

Aether goes to open his mouth to protest but—but, the idea of being taken care of is so pleasing that he just nods, leans down and nudges his cheek against Copia's, "What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks, tilting his head up at bit, letting Aether scent him properly, and Aether opens his mouth, inhales deeply against the hollow of his throat where his scent is the strongest—though nowhere near as concentrated as a ghoul's scent.

"Don't you have work to do?"

Copia worms one arm from around the pile of blankets now that Aether's got them supported between their bodies, easily cupping the back of the ghoul's head in his hand, "The church has a vested interest in me keeping my ghouls happy," he murmurs, dragging his thumb along the buzzed hair along the base of Aether's neck, "And if that means taking a week off to see my ghoul through his heat then that means taking a week off to see my ghoul through his heat."

Aether makes a low sort of noise, smiling against his throat, "You spoil me," he mumbles.

"Just wait until Cumulus gets here with the rest of the nesting material," Copia says, amusement in his voice, and then, seriously, "We know how difficult your heats can be, so whatever you need, we've got you."

"I know," Aether says after several moments of silence, squeezing Copia tighter, the itchiness under his skin already ebbing into a somewhat annoying and unpleasant burn, "Can we start the nest?"

Copia drags his thumb across the nape of Aether's neck again, "Of course," he murmurs, "Let's start the nest."

—

Cumulus shows up sometime after Aether's divested Copia of his clothing, bits of his tracksuit woven into the nest. She's got an armful of clothing collected from the pack, old and new that Aether painstakingly places until everything feels right and the itching under his skin finally simmers down to a low and steady burn—his skin no longer tight when he takes Cumulus's hand and guides her up onto the bed as well, her own clothing woven in with everything else.

She coos at him, soft and sweet as he buries his face in her throat, scenting her until he feels warm and content, curled against her body while Copia curls around him from behind, surrounded by the scent of packfamilyhome.

[lottiesnotebook]

need me some rook!cara & anders content pls.

"your OC’s doctor/healer talking about their injuries"

So the background everyone else will need for this AU is that in my heart, the Lighthouse's Caretaker is in fact Justice keeping an eye on his scapegrace daughter.

Anders & Cara 'Rook' Hawke-Laidir, parenting, fluff

@adainesjacket | @dadrunkwriting

"I cannot believe," Cara grumbles, from the nest of blankets she's been buried in since Treviso- since Minrathous- since she had to make a choice without knowing how much the world would end because of it, "that Varric snitched to my dad that I wasn't getting back to work."

"Varric?" Anders' brow furrows. "No, Justice fetched me as soon as I heard you were injured." He smooths a hand over her forehead like she's a little girl playing sick to get out of school, the cool brush of a dreamer's touch rather than the warm, callused reality of his hands.

He usually let her get away with playing sick, then. She doesn't think Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain will be quite as indulgent. One doesn't get to call in sick from the apocalypse, even with a cracked skull, three broken ribs and frostbite across half her body.

"Justice shouldn't snitch," she pouts, and he gives a forced laugh that does not disguise his worry:

"You sound just like your mother when you say that." His brow furrows as he unwraps her blanket pile to reveal her battered, bruised body that Lace and Bellara between them had manipulated into a night shirt. "Cracked skull, three broken ribs, frostbite… What have you been doing, to end up in this much trouble?"

"Fought a dragon," she says, attempting to sound casual, and failing. "A horrible, Blighted dragon. Probably way worse than the one in the Bone Pit you made up."

"That dragon was very real," Anders says, as he always does - this is one of their oldest games. She will pretend he's made up one of his adventures with her mother, and he'll raise source after source to refute it. "Ask your Aunt Isabela if you still don't believe me."

She blows a raspberry, then winces at the pressure it puts on her aching ribs. "Aunt Isabela would cover for you because it makes her look cooler."

Anders hisses in sympathy, presses down lightly on her ribs. "The same three you broke at Skyhold. I'm having words with that Harding girl-"

"Daddy," she whines, miserably reduced from twenty-one to twelve in a single blow. "You can't blame Lace for this one. She's the one who had to patch me up."

She'd been frantic, too, from what Cara's blurred memories showed her - so pale her freckles had stood out like stars as she tried to form a makeshift brace for her neck from the rubble of Treviso's market.

"And yet," he grumbles, "these things always happen around her. Varric too. Isabela should never have let you run off with both of them, it was asking for trouble." Cool magic flows from his fingers and she sighs in blessed relief as her ribs crack back into place.

"You said it was asking for trouble when I wanted to join the Lords in the first place," Cara pointed out.

"And you caused a diplomatic incident two years in!"

She shrugs, winces, and stops trying to shrug till he's checked her over more thoroughly. "And where do you think I learned that from?"

He sighs. "A point fairly made, which is why I can't ask why I find you in the middle of an apocalypse as soon as you're left unsupervised for five minutes."

"I'm not unsupervised!" she argues, though she realises the slur in her words is not helping. Her father's hands wrap around her skull, and there's a sickening crunch as the plates begin to reform. "I have Varric, and Lace…"

"Cara-hase…" He smooths back her hair from her face. "Look at you. If I could come here in person, I'd bring you home now. Maker knows Justice would if he could, and as for your mother…"

"I know," she sighs, letting her eyes flicker closed despite her desire to bask in the warmth of her father's closeness, even through the flimsy magic of a dream, "but I helped cause this mess, Daddy. I have to be the one to clean it up, don't I?"

Another hissing sigh through his teeth. "You didn't get that from me, did you?"

Her mind drifts back to a day long ago in Skyhold, when she'd learned the truth about their last day in Kirkwall - her mother's flight, her father's disappearance. She could have forgiven him for the Chantry, Varric had said, maybe even the lying, but he asked her to kill him, after the years she spent cleaning up after other people-

"No, Daddy," she murmurs, as sleep pulls her under, and wakefulness pulls him away from her, "You taught me that."

Healer's notes

Attending healer: Anders Laidir

Patient: Cara Hawke-Laidir

Diagnosis: Cracked skull, three broken ribs, multiple contusions, minor frostbite over 70% of the body, major frostbite in lower left leg.

Treatment: Magical healing applied to broken bones and worst contusions. I have left a tincture of embrium and Andraste's tears to be applied twice daily until the frostbite and the rest of the bruising fade. Please see the reverse of this note for the recipe.

Scout Harding, take care of my daughter. She still thinks she's immortal. I never want to find out she isn't.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Isn’t it Just So Pretty

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you’re no longer sure of how much acting you’re doing when pretending to be in love with Peeta during the games

Masterlist

After hearing the announcement that two victors can go home if they’re from the same district, Peeta was the one thing on your mind. You knew he must be alive since you hadn’t seen his picture in the sky yet. And if he was alive, he must be by a source of water. You rushed to the lake, not caring how much noise you were making, and looked everywhere. Suddenly, something grabbed your ankle.

“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?”

“Peeta!” You exclaimed in surprise, not caring who heard you. You helped dig him out of the mud and moss he had buried himself under before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Oh my God. Peeta. Peeta.” You breathed in relief as you stroked his muddy hair. You heard Peeta sigh happily in your ear and melted into your touch.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You told him as you cupped his face to look at him.

“You have?” Peeta asked in skeptical surprise.

“Didn’t you hear the announcement? We could both go home.”

“So you came back for me?” A smile tugged at Peeta’s lips.

“Of course I did.” You shrugged like it was obvious. To you, it was. But to Peeta, it was never obvious that someone would take care of him.

“Oh.“ Peeta smiled shyly and nodded his head. “Well, thank you.”

“Of course. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

You fully pulled Peeta out of the mud and gently dragged him towards the river. Once you were hidden behind some bushes, you assessed his wounds.

“What happened?” You asked once you saw the gash on Peeta’s leg.

“Cato’s sword. He was mad that I tricked him.”

“Tricked him? How?”

“I purposefully led him away from you after your dropped the tracker jacket nest on us. Once he figured it out, he got me.” Peeta explained. You looked at him with great sympathy that before returning your attention to his wound. It was bad, much worse than anything you had yourself. And the fact that it happened because he was trying to protect you made you feel even worse.

“Is it bad?” Peeta asked when you hadn’t said anything for a while.

“No.” You lied. “Does it hurt?”

“No.” He lied back. You looked into his eyes and shook your head a little.

“You’re lying.”

“So are you.” He replied. You felt your face heat in embarrassment and nodded again.

“We need to keep this clean. I’m gonna have to wash your clothes.” You changed the subject.

“Okay.” Peeta agreed. You helped him lean his head back and washed the mud out of his hair until it was blonde again. Once that was clean, you moved on to his clothes. You shyly looked into his eyes and he nodded his head, giving you permission to tug off his shirt. You washed it and left it out to dry on a rock before returning to Peeta. He looked so helpless lying there on the rock you had laid him down on. He looked so vulnerable and gentle, not posing a threat to anyone. He didn’t deserve to be here. No one did, but especially not Peeta. He was a lover and a baker. He shouldn’t be bleeding out on a rock. You knelt down beside Peeta and he looked up at you with his gentle, puppy dog eyes. He was completely at your mercy now and you both knew it.

“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” Peeta said to break the silence. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the unexpected sentiment and before you knew it, you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. Peeta’s face heated up under your lips and when you pulled away, he looked just as surprised as you were over what had happened.

“Um, I should probably finish washing your clothes.” You stumbled over your words a little and refused to look Peeta in the eyes. You undid his button and zipper and started to tug his pants down.

“Wait.” He gulped before you could pull his pants over his wound. You stopped and looked into his eyes, feeling the same anxiety he was.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay. Please be careful.” He said in a whiny voice. You couldn’t help but smile a little and nodded your head.

“I will. I promise.”

You tugged Peeta’s pants the rest of the way off and got a full view of his wound for the first time. It was much worse than it had looked through the rip in his pants. You felt helpless as you stared at it, knowing there was not much you could do at this point.

“How bad is it?” Peeta asked you. You stared at his wound, unblinking, until you felt tears come to your eyes.

“Sweetheart?” He asked in a soft voice. You finally looked up at him just a tear rolled down your face.

“How about that kiss?” He mouthed, making you burst out laughing. You cupped his face and pulled him into a long kiss to keep him calm.

“It’s not that bad. You’ll be okay. I promise.” You told him once you pulled away.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I never do. I’m gonna go wash these. Stay here.”

“I don’t have much choice, but okay. I’ll wait here and keep the lookout.” Peeta replied, making you laugh. You were about to leave with his pants when you noticed the hem of his boxers. They were filthy, caked with mud, and definitely teaming with infection. You knew they had to be washed, but that would leave Peeta with nothing. Peeta followed your gaze and connected the dots.

“You need my boxers, don’t you?” He asked. You avoided eye contact as you slipped off your backpack and handed it to him.

“Here. You can cover yourself with this.”

“I don’t care if you see me.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you can take them off and I’ll just close my eyes?”

“Look, I know it’s awkward, but I can barely move. There’s no way I can get these off by myself.” Peeta admitted. You knew he was right, but you were not prepared to see a naked man for the first time. Peeta quickly remembered the star crossed lovers plot and cleared his throat.

“Plus, it’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.” He followed up, looking into your eyes to signal you to play along.

“Right.” You quickly nodded. You got Peeta’s boxers off as quickly as you could with as little eye contact as possible and ran away with them once they were off. You washed them and left them out to dry, giving him your jacket to cover himself in the mean time. Once his clothes were dry enough, you carefully dressed him. You then applied leaves to his wound the way Rue had taught you.

“Okay. We’re in good shape. But I want to get you somewhere less open. This is the biggest water source so the Careers could be back any day now.”

“How are we gonna move? I can’t walk.” Peeta reminded you.

“It’s okay. I’ll carry you.” You shrugged. Peeta laughed a little and held up his arms like a toddler. You gently pulled him off the ground and scooped him up so that you could carry him. He was pretty light since he hadn’t been eating and you had gained some muscle while training for the games. You carried Peeta through the woods as quietly as possible.

“I bet all the people in 12 are laughing at us.” Peeta said after a minute, making you laugh.

“Yeah? How come?”

“Because you’re the big strong hero and I’m the damsel in distress that needs to be carried.”

“Who cares what they think? We’re doing what we have to do to survive.” You shrugged and continued walking. Peeta went quiet for a minute as he thought back to the kiss you’d shared a few hours ago. It was real to him, but he didn’t know what it meant for you.

“Right.” He said after a beat of silence. You could tell something was on his mind but decided not to push it. Instead, you carried him to a nearby cave and gently laid him down inside. You let Peeta rest while you covered the entrance of the cave with leaves to keep yourselves hidden. You then returned to Peeta’s side and brushed the hair off his forehead.

“Are you comfortable?”

“As comfortable as I could be in this situation.” Peeta said through a strained laugh.

“Then we should get some sleep.” You suggested.

You pulled your sleeping bag out of your backpack and helped Peeta into it. You climbed in on his good side and cuddled into him.

“This is nice.” Peeta said quietly. “I never thought I’d ever be this close to you.”

You smiled and draped an arm over his torso to pull him in. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, but you stayed awake all night and kept eyes on the entrance of the cave. You were exhausted by the time he woke up the next morning, but you didn’t let him know that. You put a hand on his forehead and felt that it was slightly cooler than the dah before.

“I’m gonna go get you some water.” You told him and tried to get up.

“Wait.” He caught your hand, making you stop.

“Please don’t leave.” He said in a soft voice. His doe eyes were staring into yours pleadingly and it took all your strength to say no.

“You need water.” You insisted. “I’ll just be right outside.”

“Please don’t go.” Peeta whined, sounding like he might start to cry. You knew he’d been lying by the river for days, bleeding out and knowing he could be killed any minute. Now that he was finally with you, it probably terrified him to be left alone again. You felt sympathetic towards Peeta and leaned in to kiss him again. You let it linger for as long as he needed.

“I’ll be right back.” You whispered once you pulled away.

You left the cave, gathered some water for Peeta, and purified it before heading back to him. When you reached the cave, a parachute was waiting for you outside. You gasped and grabbed it before running inside. He had fallen asleep again in your absence so you bent down to kiss him awake.

“Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. Wake up.” You said as you peppered kissed all over his face until he woke up.

“What? What happened?” Peeta asked through a yawn.

“Look what Haymitch sent you.” You smiled and presented him the parachute.

“Food?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“Uh huh. Soup.” You nodded and got the food ready for him.

“Wow. My first parachute.” Peeta smiled to himself. The parachute wasn’t really sent to Peeta. You had made that up because when you told him Haymitch had sent you a few things, he seemed sad that he hadn’t received anything. You wanted to cheer him up, so you told a little white lie.

“How are you feeling?” You asked as you helped him sit up.

“A little better. I think my fevers breaking.”

“That’s great. I would love to get you to eat something.”

“I’m really not hungry.” Peeta admitted, making you freeze. Not having an appetite despite not eating in days was not a good sign.

“Please? Just a bite?”

“No. If only there was something you could do to persuade me.” Peeta sighed, making you laugh endearingly. You leaned in to kiss Peeta and he met you halfway. He kissed you for as long as you let him before pulling away.

“Suddenly, I’m starving.” Peeta said, making you laugh. You carefully spoon fed him the soup and felt his forehead when you were done.

“Damn it.” You hissed.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re burning up again. I thought you were getting better.” You started to panic and sat back on your knees to think. Your mother or sister would know exactly what to do here, but you didn’t.

“It’s okay. Maybe I’m just warm from the sleeping bag.” Peeta tried to calm you down.

“Maybe. Let me check your leg.” You checked his leg and just as you suspected, it looked worse.

“Damn it!” You screamed and got off the floor. You went over to the wall of the cave and pressed your forehead against it as you cried in frustration.

“We need medicine. Not soup. You won’t get better without medicine. Why isn’t anyone sending medicine?” You cried and tugged at your hair.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Peeta said calmly.

“It’s not okay!” You shouted. “The leaves aren’t working. Why aren’t they working?”

“Maybe the infection is just too deep. It might’ve been a lost cause before you even found me.” Peeta voiced his deepest concern, one that you both shared.

“No. There’s no way you survived this far to get wiped out by an infection. You survived Cato’s blade. I’m not gonna let you die over the infection that came after it.”

Peeta stayed quiet as you paced back and forth and tried to come up with a plan.

“We just need more sponsors. We need them to send us medicine so that you can get better. What can we do to get their attention?” You asked him.

“I think we’ve done everything already.” Peeta said regretfully.

“Then I’ll… I’ll- um. Uh….” You trailed off when no ideas came to mind.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix you.” You started to freak out and dropped down to your knees. You buried your face in your hands and felt your entire body give up. You banged your fists on the ground in frustration before letting out a guttural sob.

“It’s okay.” Peeta assured you. “You’ve done as much as you could.”

“But it’s not enough.”

“It’s enough. It’s more than enough.” Peeta replied. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and tried to come up with a way to distract you from the inevitable doom he was facing.

“You know, I remember the first time I saw you.” He said, catching your attention.

“You do?” You sniffled and looked up at him.

“Uh huh. It was the first day of kindergarten. My dad pointed you out and said, “see that girl? I was gonna marry her mother.” He still seemed jaded by it after all those years. I watched you walk into school and ran in after you.”

“Your dad and my mom? Is that true?” You smiled a little and crawled over to him.

“Apparently they dated before she met your father. My dad used to grumble about the coal miner with the golden voice whenever he and my mom would fight.”

“Did that happen a lot?” You asked sympathetically as Peeta reached up to wipe your tears.

“My brothers and I used to try to separate them. He’d hit her. Then he’d hit us. Then we’d be silent for a few days. And then, it was like it never happened.”

“Until it happened again?” You assumed.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Until it happened again.”

“I’m sorry, Peeta. I didn’t know you had it so bad.” You frowned and laid down on his chest.

“It’s not your fault. You’ve got your own troubles. Don’t worry about mine.” He said as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You stayed with your head over his heartbeat for a while as you calmed down.

“I’m surprised you turned out the way you are.” You said after a minute.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so kind. But your home life wasn’t kind you. I wonder where you get it from.”

“I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me.”

“Yeah. Maybe that’s just you.” You smiled and looked up at him. Peeta didn’t look at you, though. He had a far off look in his eyes as if he was thinking of something he couldn’t put to words.

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore. It’ll be awkward when you go home.” You said to change the subject.

“I’m not going home.” He laughed softly. There was no self pity in his voice. He wasn’t trying to make you guilty. He genuinely believed that and had already accepted it.

“Peeta.” You said warningly.

“It’s okay. I know it. You know it. Even my parents knew it the day I left. I’ve said goodbye to them. They’re in the past now.” Peeta shrugged. He looked down at you and brushed some hair that had come loose from your braid off your forehead.

“All I see is you now.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence, never being good with words. You had so much you wanted to say to him, but the way he was looking at you made your mind go blank.

“After that first day that my dad pointed you out, I always looked at you. I remember the first day of school when the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song. And your hand shot straight up. I followed you home that day. And every day after that.” Peeta recalled as he stared into your eyes.

“I didn’t know that.” You smiled softly.

“I used to watch you hunt from the bakery window.” He continued. “You were usually with Gale. But sometimes you’d go alone and I’d wonder what would happen if went outside and asked to go with you.”

“Why? So you could hunt?” You laughed in surprise.

“So I could be with you.” He said simply.

“Peeta.” You smiled guiltily. Peeta looked at you for long time before reaching up to touch your braid. He held it in his hands as if it was solid gold.

“I should’ve told you how I felt before the games. I feel so stupid for waiting until we were on opposing sides of a death match to tell you how much I care about you.”

“We’re not on opposing sides.” You shook your head.

“There’s only one winner.”

“I know. That doesn’t put us on opposing sides.” You told him. You stared into his eyes for a moment and reached out to touch his face.

“Nothing could.” You whispered. No matter how much it hurt him, Peeta sat up so that he could cup your face and kiss you. You kissed him back and wished you could close the curtains and shut the world out from this kiss. Even though the romance meant you would get more sponsors, that didn’t matter to you anymore. You knew the way you were feeling for him wasn’t an act anymore. You felt genuine love and you needed him to know that.

“I can’t lose you.” You pulled away to tell him.

“You won’t. Being here with you like this is enough to make me live through anything.” Peeta said as he rolled your broad between his fingers.

“I wish they weren’t watching. I wish it was just us.” You whispered and felt your eyes begin to water. Peeta looked you up and down and a doubtful look crossed his face.

“Do you?” He asked. He wasn’t fully skeptical, just hesitant in believing you. You nodded your head and Peeta seemed to believe you.

“Then it is just us.” He said simply. You couldn’t help but smile before leaning down to kiss home once more.

“I wish I knew how you felt before the games.” You whispered against his lips.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.”

“Yes it would’ve. We could’ve been like this. But safe.”

“You wouldn’t have liked me back. I had nothing to offer you. Nothing you needed, any way. You’re only thinking you would’ve liked me back because I don’t have any competition here.” Peeta said, again with no self pity on his voice. These were just things he knew to be true. And maybe they once were. But as you stared into his eyes now, you knew it wasn’t the truth anymore. You knew you loved him.

“You don’t have any competition anywhere.” You said softly.

“You’re just saying that.” He said with a disbelieving roll of his eyes.

“I’m not.” You insisted. You turned around to look at the camera you knew was behind you before leaning down to whisper in Peeta’s ear.

“I love you.”

When you pulled away, Peeta was watching your face very carefully. He was trying to see if you were just deceiving the cameras or actually professing your love for him. He looked so hopeful that he might cry if it turned out to be the former.

“Real or not real?” He asked, making you smile.

“Real.” You assured him. Peeta let his guard down and finally broke into the smile he’d been holding in. He tilted his head up so that you’d kiss him but pulled away a little just before your lips could touch.

“Promise?” He whispered.

“Promise.” You replied before pressing your lips to his.

[smallestapplin]

Pls pls pls will you write omega Laventon pls pls pls I love you so much you’re so wonderful I love you

I already did general, let’s do NSFW.

🔞18+Only!🔞

-

-

-

💜Laventon💜

- He is so nervous but excited for share a heat with you. But he stresses himself into an early one, your scent plus his drive to make the perfect nest threw his cycle off.

- His nest is filled with a combination of his own comfort items and almost your entire closet. He’s so bashful about that.

- You made sure the house was locked up tight and your strongest Pokémon all on guard duty, while you take care of your heat stricken mate.

- You bring snacks, water, and a bucket of cold water with some hand towels, knowing his skin is likely burning and it’ll help cool him down.

- But he took one look at you carrying those items and fretting over him, then to you, inhaling your scent and almost came right there. “You’re so kind to me.”

- “Laventon you’re my mate, of course I am.” You keep your voice low.

- But that doesn’t stop him from grinding against one of your pillows and whining.

- The items can wait it seems.

- “May I enter your nest?”

- “Yes! Yes please.”

- You carefully crawl into it, only to be yanked in. He’s so desperate for you. The professor buried his face into your neck, breathing in your soothing scent.

- You caring for him only seems to turn him on more.

- Laventon has always been sensitive to more sexual touches, but during his heat you could cup his cheek and he’d be pleading for more and that ‘I’m so close! Please!’

- Constantly begging for more! More! More! Please he’s already drunk off your scent, please use him for your pleasure however you see fit.

- You remind him every orgasm that there is a safe word he can use and what it is, but no matter how many times he cries out “too much! P-please! Mm, love-alpha, I can’t!” He still refuses to say it, even whimpering when you stop to check in on him.

- “Please, use me, use me! Wanna make you feel good, perfect mate, please!”

- It gets to the point he can’t form words, just pathetic whining sounds and gasps. You’ve fucked the sweet professor out of his mind, and he loves every second of it.

[ohmykazuha]

comforting you

a/n: hehe. perhaps i self projected a little too much. XD i hope you like this! (p.s. new format! title goes on top, then the character list later on!). let's try to make this post past 100 notes? please? :"DDD

char: childe x. gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader, albedo x gn!reader, xiao x gn!reader

childe ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- he wraps his arms around you and brings you into a hug!

- you just bury your head into the crook of his neck sob where is my childe

- childe strokes your back and leads you to the bed to sit down

- sits you down with pillows and blankets and wraps it around you, blanket burrito style XD

- he lets you cry everything out TuT

- i think he would rearrange you such that you're lying on his lap! hehhe

- when childe comforts you, it's very intentional

- he knows what to say

- but each word is heartfelt to the core /)\\\\(\

- needless to say, you feel much better after being with him

- "i think some cuddles and affection are in store, hm?"

- hugs and snuggles and hugs and snuggles and hugs and snuggles-

zhongli ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- like childe, zhongli knows what to say in each situation

- his words are like the sweetest milk and honey, warm and soft, yet touching your heart in ways you never understood

- his words are kind of like a blanket?? if that makes sense???? it's all warm and cuddly and soft and it makes you feel all warm and content

- he definitely brews tea for you!

- green tea. that's it. that's the hc

- zhongli loves you so much, he would stay outside on the couch with you all night

- he would read to you while you calm down! hehehe

- please i want this now...

- aahfdskjhfjsk its very cute!!!

- "shh, (y/n). it'll be alright. i'm here." he says, wrapping an arm around your side.

- screams and cries why can't he be REAL

- knows and will engage in your love language!!! (see xiao hc below)

albedo ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- albedo is a quiet person. he doesn't say much when comforting you, he just needs to... be there.

- he cuddles you and sits you on his lap pls im so soft for this

- albedo would read a book to you! as you take your time to recollect yourself

- lap cuddles lap cuddles lap cuddles lap cuddles lap cuddles lap

- grr bark bark woof woof albedo is a really good cuddler, but we'll save that for another post XD

- i think he's someone who would be comforting to you, but does it in silence? if that makes sense?

- "shh, my love. you'll be alright... it will be okay. everything will be okay."

- bawls n wails i need him now

- "do... do you really think it'll be alright?" you sniffled upsettingly.

- "yes, i do." albedo leans over and kisses your forehead.

- i'm such a sucker for forehead kisses sob sob

xiao ⋆ ࣪. ᓚᘏᗢ

- xiao, like albedo, is more quiet

- he's a silent comforter, yknow? XD

- but xiao definitely knows how to take care of you

- he would assist in your love language!

- physical touch = a night of cuddles, quality time = stargazing, etc.

- we'll go with the stargazing one ~~

- xiao brings you outside, armed with pillows and blankets

- lays a comfy nest-thingy on the ground (no. not omegaverse kind of nest)

- "this is beautiful, isn't it?"

- "uh-huh."

- cue the looking up at the night sky together hehehe

- xiao just gazes at the sky

- comfortable silence!!! aaaaaa the two of you are so cute!

taglist: @bookuya, @mika-zuko, @dilucbar, @starglitterz, @cherubbic, @noirkkat, @the-gayest-sky-kid, @shxnosuke, @eternism

please like/reblog if you liked this! it gives me a better aggregate of what people like ~~

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[ppersonna]

thunder - ksj | m

your voice was the soundtrack of my summer. do you know you're unlike any other? you'll always be my thunder. - thunder, boys like girls

↳ summary- you allow your best friend Jin to take you backpacking once per year.  apparently, this year’s outing would be the wettest yet.

↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw

↳ pairing- kim seokjin x reader

↳ word count- 6k

↳ genre- fluff, tiny angst, smut, comedy

↳ warnings- penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, light dom!jin, light sub!reader, fucking in tents haha ha ha ha, cum play, cum eating, possessive dirty talk

↳ a/n- wow hello! its been so long since i uploaded a fic i almost forgot how to do it! i would like to give you a fic that i’ve had in my storage since march, and one i’m excited to finally finish. i’d be nowhere without @taetaewonderland​ @xjoonchildx​ @ladyartemesia​ for hyping me up to post it in the first place.  thank u to @shadowsremedy​ for being my fav beta ily ily ily. enjoy my babes! pls feel free to message me!

 “Kim Seokjin, if you got us lost, I’m going to murder you,” you seethed as your pulled your booted foot out of a slick puddle of mud. 

“I didn’t get us lost, dear. The map is wrong,” he replied coolly as he twisted the crumpled map from portrait to landscape, and back again. “I’m an excellent navigator, but when the tools I have are faulty…”. 

You grumbled, stopping your walk to sit on a fallen log. You sighed audibly at your best friend, still maneuvering in the small clearing in the forest, trying to match the map to where you were. You chanced a look at the sky as you sought to catch your breath and sate your anger. Dark, heavy clouds were forming, the kind that didn’t just indicate a sprinkle but a torrential downpour. 

“Shit, Jin. It’s going to storm soon,” you warned.  

He stopped his map seeking and glanced at the sky, frown buried deep in his face. 

Instantly, as if it never changed, he returned to his bright and cheery demeanor. 

“Well! Looks like we should work faster to make it back to camp, huh?” 

Seokjin would be excited for an unexpected kink in your plans. The boy was obsessed with “roughing it”. You agreed to one weekend with minimal hiking. Camping, in your opinion, was meant to be spent drunk around a fire eating s’mores and telling scary stories, not walking for miles through nothing but trees, mud, and probably bears.

Camping had never been your favorite hobby, and you allowed Seokjin to take you off trail backpacking once per year. The man looked forward to it, planned it several months in advance, and counted down the days until he stuffed you in his Jeep down a deserted forest highway to the campsite. 

Only, Jin never took the “minimal hiking” thing too seriously. 

“It’s an easy hike,” he had promised you that morning as you set up camp. “More of a stroll than anything.” 

You kicked at the dirt beneath you now, upset you had listened to the dark-haired man’s empty promises. 

“How about we just go back the way we came from?” You suggested as you stood up and brushed the dirt off your backside from the log. 

“Nonsense,” he sniffed. “I’ve got it right here. We can take this trail,” he gestured at a clearing through the trees, “for about a mile, turn left at the open valley, and we’ll be back at camp two miles after that!”  He proclaimed his findings as if it were so easy, so obvious. 

“Great, three miles of hiking. After we’ve already done four, at least.”

“Yes, my ever-positive sunshine, you should be happy I found us a shortcut.” He patted your head and smiled at you as he adjusted your backpack strap that was sliding off your shoulders. He lingered, eyes on you and your lips for just a fraction too long, before he turned and began leading you through the forest. 

Your heart was racing, unrelated to the elevation or the hike. 

You gave in so easily to Jin not because he was your best friend since childhood, but also because he was the man you were hopelessly in love with. 

You’d been smitten with the older boy since your senior year of high school, when he jokingly asked you to prom and you realized you wanted Seokjin courting you to be a regular occurrence. 

You stayed by his side through it all, all girlfriends and breakups. It hurt to watch him with another, but maintaining his friendship was more important than anything else and you weren’t about to lose him to a crush that you could easily just avoid. 

Seokjin was attached to your hip, a fact your friends never let you live down. They were relentless in encouraging you two to be alone, and for you to admit your feelings to him. They told you they were sure he would reciprocate it.  

Unbeknownst to them, you had admitted it. 

You and Jin once got messy drunk on the floor of your apartment, where you slithered up into his lap and whispered your secret devotion to your best friend. Seokjin merely laughed and kissed your nose. You were so embarrassed and rejected you never brought it up again. Best to leave it be, rather than bring a 15 year friendship to a screeching halt. 

So—you valiantly stood by him as his best friend and confidante. You were there when he excitedly told you about his new girlfriend, or when he called you crying over their breakup. Your heart twinged at both; you wanted to be the reason for his excitement and the balm to his wounded heart. 

You allowed Seokjin to take you on all his wild adventures. Like now—traipsing through the forest with no direction in sight, because you would have done nearly anything for the boy.

A crack of thunder shook you from your thoughts and you jumped at the sudden sound. 

“Ah, so cute,” he smiled at you, “still afraid of thunder?”

You blushed and pouted. “It just surprised me, is all.”

He smirked as if to say he didn’t believe you and nodded. “We should get a move on, don’t want to get caught in the rain.” 

You shivered at the thought. It was already cool in the forest; the trees providing enough coverage it locked out any sun, if there had been any. You quickly moved in step behind your best friend. It only took a few minutes of silence before the telltale pitter patter of droplets on leaves began. A fat raindrop landed on your forehead. 

“Fuck,” you groaned. “It’s starting.”  

“I know,” Jin suddenly looked worried, his confident demeanor cracking. He looked back at you and tightened the straps on his backpack. 

“Let’s run?”

You were powerless to deny any request from him. Plus, you didn’t really feel like getting drenched. 

You adjusted your own backpack and took off, running through the quickly dampening forest beside Seokjin. 

The rain came in a downpour. It hit you hard, blurring your vision. Seokjin slipped his hand into yours, not wanting to lose you in the storm. You pushed your legs in time with his, jumping around fell logs and rocks and skipping large puddles. 

You were drenched as Seokjin pulled you into a makeshift canopy of rocks, a momentary pause from the storm to catch your breath. Your hair was soaking wet, as if freshly showered. Seokjin’s hair stuck to his face, and you smiled as he looked at you with concern. It only took a moment until you were both bursting with laughter, finding humor at the moment. 

It was something you loved about Seokjin. He always knew how to make you laugh in times it seemed impossible. 

“This sucks,” you spoke through your joyful laughter.  He nodded in agreement. 

“I think we’re almost back. We need to turn soon, and then we’ve got about two more miles. You ready?”

You agreed and pushed back the slick hair in your eyes, before doing the same for him. His eyes sparkled. You didn’t know what it meant. 

In an instant, you were running again. The backpack bounced against your back and rain pounded your body. The things you did for Kim Seokjin. You were whipped, and you knew it. 

The trail seemed like it went on forever. You both became so tired of running that you slowed and trudged slowly through mud as rain pelted you, accepting your fate of soaking to the bone. You were sure you had never been this drenched in your life.  Your clothes were stuck to your body and dripping down into your shoes and socks. Your teeth chattered in the breeze—it felt as if the wind whipped right through you.  The sky rumbled again, as if warning you to hurry lest it dump more rain on you.

Seokjin was always the caring companion. He rubbed your shoulders and arms to warm them up and promised a roaring fire. You hated how much it made your heart burst.

You were very much looking forward to your one-man tent, stocked with a sleeping bag and blankets. You could strip down and dry off and slip into the warmth of your own personal nest. 

Seokjin waxed poetic about his own spacious tent—a lofty family sized one, and how he made sure he brought his sleeping bag along with 8 thick blankets, and how he couldn’t wait to snuggle down into his own.  Seokjin was the picture of preparedness. He even kept a locking box full of snacks in his tent because the boy was a foodie and couldn’t survive without the treats. It came in handy. 

“What would you do if we were stuck out here forever?” You posed to your best friend, curious about his response and desperate to pass the time as you hiked. 

“Well,” he thought aloud. “I’d miss the guys. But I’d be happy to be stuck out here with you.”  

Your cheeks flushed. 

“You wouldn’t miss, ah—what’s her name? Miya?” 

Seokjin shrugged. “She’s fun. She’s not you, though.”

You couldn’t help but grumble internally. She was good enough to date, and you weren’t. She was different in some respect. 

“Are things not going well with her?” You asked, secretly hoping they weren’t.

“It’s fine. She’s nice and all,” he sighed.  “Just, there’s no spark there, you know?”  

You knew all too well. Any man you tried to date paled compared to your best friend, and the fireworks behind your every heartbeat when you were near him.

“What about you?” He was peering into your eyes and into what felt like your soul. “You and Jungkook sure seem cozy.” His tone sounded annoyed, sarcastic even.

You couldn’t help but bark a laugh. 

“Oh god, no,” you shook your soggy head.  “Not my type. We’re good friends and that’s it. Plus, I’m sure he’s into Jimin.”

Seokjin shrugged again. “You sit on his lap and cuddle up to him all the time…”

“Are you jealous?” You smirked, nudging the man.  Please, god, please be jealous.

“N-No!” He was sharp. “I’m not.”

Ouch.

You remained silent, eyes downcast at your muddy boots as you walked alongside the man.

“Sorry,” he mumbled after a beat of silence. 

“Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. I got it—loud and clear.”

Seokjin looked hurt, a wave of dissatisfaction crossing his features. He wanted to say something, mouth opening to continue his apology. You ignored it wholly. He knew your feelings. There was no way he couldn’t remember that night. You pushed ahead of the man, walking in front of him to avoid his pained gaze and likely hurried apology.  

The light of day was leaving. Everything around you was steadily getting darker, and the rain showed no sign of giving up. You silently begged to be back to the safety of your camp soon, lest you become walking mountain lion bait.

“There’s camp!” Seokjin finally pointed and ran through the rain ahead of you.

“Oh thank fuck,” you sighed, feeling as if it lifted a weight from your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to strip out of your soaking clothes and slither into your blankets.

“Oh shit,” Seokjin whispered, stopping where he stood.  You followed his gaze, concerned about what stopped the boy so quickly.   

Your tent was ripped open, the insides of it exposed to the wind and rain. Everything you owned was soaking wet. You had set it up in a clearing with not too many trees above it, and it appeared the lack of protection against the wind and rain tore the poor fabric to shreds.

A worn-out and distraught sob left your lips.

“No!”  

You ran to the tent and nearly cried. Fortunately, beyond just being soaking wet and useless for the night, everything was intact. There was only no warmth to be had. No warm clothes to change into. Nothing.  

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” 

Seokjin placed a hand on your shoulder.  

“You can share with me?” He sounded hopeful. “We can hang your clothes to dry and when the storm passes, we can build a fire and let your tent air out.  But you should probably sleep in my tent tonight.” 

You bit your lip. You had slept with Seokjin in more beds than you could count, always being forced to share a bed as the designated ‘best friends who don’t care’.  And it was never easy for you. You always woke up with the delicious scent of his cologne and shampoo, and your body curled around his. His hardness would always be pressed up against you, and it took all you had not to wrap your mouth around it to wake him up.

“Yeah, thanks Seokjin,” you breathed. “I’m fucking freezing. And I’m tired. I just want to get some sleep.”

Seokjin slipped his backpack off and pulled yours off your frame. He hung them from a sturdy branch, protected by layers of trees overhead, to let them dry.  

“I have some towels in my tent, go on in. You can get dry and hand me your wet clothes to hang. Then you can get in the blankets and I’ll make us something to eat.”

You blushed. Seokjin hadn’t seen you fully naked, ever; at least not since you were toddlers.

Slipping into his blankets while stark nude would be a dream. It was something you fantasized about more than you’d care to admit. But, in the current conditions, being naked and clammy in the blankets next to your best friend who didn’t return any feelings for you sounded more like an awkward moment waiting to happen.

If Seokjin noticed anything, he didn’t show it. He acted as if making you strip in his tent was a normal thing, nothing out of the ordinary. 

“I’ll wait out here,” he nodded dutifully. 

You slipped out of your muddy boots and socks, and into his tent. It was nice and spacious, and the blankets looked incredibly enticing. It was kind of Seokjin to let you stay with him, even kinder that he would remain soaking wet to make you something to eat. Your body felt so worn out and drained, and you were sure he did too. 

You peeled the wet clothing off of you, every bit, before sticking your head out the door and handing him the clothes.  

“Don’t worry about food, okay? You should get dry too.”  

He wrinkled his forehead. 

“You sure?” 

You bit your lip and nodded. 

“I’m sure. Plus, we have your snacks.”

“Ah, good thinking,” he shot his finger guns at you. “I’ll be there in a minute, then. Hand me a towel and I’ll get undressed out here.”

You shyly handed him a towel, now very aware that you and Seokjin would be in the same tent—naked. The thought thrilled you as much as it scared you. 

It didn’t take long to burrow yourself into his freshly made bed roll, sliding into the neat layers. Seokjin was nearly military in his routine and order.  Everything was always tucked, pressed, and laid down perfectly. 

Your body wracked with shivers and chills—the blankets and sleeping bag were cold from the ambient air outside. You folded yourself together in a fetal position to maintain some warmth. It felt good to lie down on the soft bed mat, but the blankets were doing nothing to provide warmth. 

The sound of the zipper opening the front door flap of the tent made you shake harder. You could feel the wind blow through the opening now. The sound of the storm was loud, and you were grateful for the heavy tarp covering Seokjin’s tent. It provided some respite from the wind and kept all water off the tent. At least Seokjin had been smart in his setup. You ignored the man’s suggestions to set up better, and you were fully regretting it now.

Seokjin had the towel wrapped around his waist and stepped about the tent easily. He dabbed at his upper body with a smaller towel from his suitcase and rubbed his hair dry. The normally perfectly coiffed head was now static-y and sticking up wildly. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t so cold. 

Seokjin moved around you and slid into the blankets, leaving a large space between you, before he threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. He was naked now; you noted internally. You both were. A shiver ran down your spine, unrelated to the relentless chill.

It was silent. All you could hear was the beating of the rain on the tarp and your teeth chattering as you shivered. 

Seokjin stole a look at you, finally, and noticed your position, holding yourself to build warmth. 

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked. 

“I’m j-j-just col-l-ld,” you whispered. “And t-t-tired.”

Seokjin didn’t reply, but you heard the scratching sound of a moving sleeping bag and rustling of blankets and suddenly felt a very warm, very naked body pressed against you. It was blissful, and you moaned out loud at the feel of him spooning you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. You didn’t know what for, and couldn’t bring yourself to reply. 

You burrowed yourself down into his warmth and felt his arms wrap around you, securing you against him. He radiated heat. He felt like heaven. Your eyes closed—he had you feeling like you had stepped into a delicious sauna.

Seokjin’s muscular arms hadn’t moved an inch since they wrapped around you, but now his hands slowly rubbed at your torso, warming you everywhere his hand dragged. It felt electrifying and your body relaxed easily under his delicate fingertips. 

It started out innocent, rubbing along your stomach and side to warm you further. But his hand began straying north, reaching the crest of your breasts. Your breath hitched as he rubbed over the cold swells. Your nipples were hard from the chill and pebbled even further with the touch of his hands. It made a gasp stick in your throat.

His lips touched your neck, lightly. They were warm too. It seemed his entire body was twenty degrees warmer than your own, and every touch felt like a raging flame. His hands continued rubbing along your breasts as he laved and sucked.

 at the column of your throat.  

As instantly as it began, Seokjin stopped. His hands hovered above your breasts. 

He pressed kisses to your neck and face. “We should sleep, babe,” he sighed.  

You wanted to protest, to push him further, to take care of what he started, but you couldn’t find the energy. Seokjin’s warmth matched with the comfort of his bedroll, and the soothing rise and fall of his breath was lulling you into sleep. Even though it was still early evening, the hike and the run back to safety took it all out of you.  

Seokjin’s arms felt like safety. He secured them around you, slipping just underneath your breasts where his thumb could trace alongside the bottom as you easily succumbed to sleep.

It was still dark when you woke.  

The rain was still coming down, light this time. It sounded relaxing, soothing. Seokjin was still spooning you, sleeping soundly behind you. You twisted in his grasp to gaze at him. 

His hair was dry now, sticking out randomly about his pillow. You were sure if he saw it he’d panic, normally so precise with his looks. He looked so peaceful when he was asleep, none of his chaotic energy and dramatic charisma. 

You loved every facet of Seokjin. You loved the flamboyance, the sensitivity, the deep compassion for his friends.  

You turned around, as gently and quietly as you could, and pressed a hand to his cheek—rubbing at the warm and soft flesh. He sighed softly in his sleep, moving against his pillow. An eye cracked open, and he stared at you. 

“Why are you awake?” He whispered, his voice gentle. “It’s still dark.” 

He was confused, and the look that graced his features was adorable. You wanted to photograph it and frame it, make it the lock screen of your phone. 

You shook your head. 

“Don’t know.”

Seokjin’s hand rubbed at your shoulder, then up to your face. He tucked your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. 

“You look so cute in the moonlight.”

You closed your eyes, letting his compliment wash over you. You couldn’t find the words to reply. You let him continue caressing your cheek, feeling as if you were living a fantasy where Seokjin touched you like a lover. 

You were so close to him, chest pressing against his own. Something about the quiet storm, the dark tent, had you disregarding any embarrassment you should have felt pressing your naked tits to the man's chest, but the spell of the forest had you pressing closer. Your lips were inches apart, and you could feel his breath on your lips. 

The feel of Seokjin’s lips pressing against yours was light, but felt as if all the fireworks in the world exploded behind your eyes and within your belly. It started sweet, gentle. You kissed him like you always wanted to, full of unrequited love and unwavering desire. Your arms slithered around his neck, pulling him even closer against you.  

The kiss turned deeper, mouths opening to allow the passage of tongues. He sought into your mouth, caressing yours with his own, pouring what felt like his very spirit into you. His hand left your back and slid up your sides to press against your breast. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured, feeling your brain swirl headily. “Feels good.”

He didn’t reply, only kept kissing at your neck and pinching gently at your hardened nipples. It made you cry out, gaping at the slight pain.

“If you want me to stop, tell me.” 

His words were gentle. His hands stilled, stopping all ministrations against you.

Your breath was hard and shaky, matching the erratic beat of your heart in your ribcage. Your unrequited crush of years was now roaming your body, touching you as a lover rather than a friend.

“Please, don’t stop.”

He was on you again, now bloodthirsty for any part of your skin to touch. He tugged at your nipples, suckled up your neck to kiss and lick at the shell of your ears.  You pressed against him, gasping at the feel of his now stiff cock. He circled his hips, relishing in the feel of you against him. You wondered how he would feel inside you. He was thick and long—it would be a stretch, and a most delicious and welcome one.

He pressed you back against the pillow, hovering over your body as he kissed down your neck and sucked at the pressure points there. A pleasured sigh passed through your open lips, reveling in the feel of him on your skin. It was something you dreamed about often. It felt unreal to finally have it. 

You were on display for him, and his eyes raked over you as if you were a Dalí in the Louvre. His hands slid up to cup your breasts, and you tilted your head back to moan. You didn’t care at all about how you looked, how this might be awkward in the next few hours. You cared only about feeling Seokjin within you, getting him off, succumbing to your own pleasure wrought by his hands and his cock.

“Fuck, babe,” he sighed. “Wanted this for a while.”

“Me too,” you gasped as he slid a finger down to your core, circling faintly over your slick folds.

“Have you?”

“Seokjin, I’ve been in love with you since high school.”

Seokjin closed his eyes and smiled, breathing through his nose in contentment.

“You weren’t just saying that when you were drunk then.”

You shook your head, and Seokjin opened his eyes to peer at you.

“No, Seokjin,” you whispered needily, his finger still so torturously close to your clit. “I meant it.”

He leaned down with a smile and planted gentle kisses on your cheeks, adoring and gentle.  

“I’ve been in love with you too. I thought you were just drunk. I never acted on it because I didn’t want to get my heart broken.”

He pulled up and allowed his free hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” He asked. “Like, really fucking hard. You good with that?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A deep, hearty chuckle passed between both of you, enamored with each other and the situation of being naked and intertwined together, the warmth of your matched confessions surrounding you.  

“Fuck me, please,” you begged.

And Seokjin would be loath to deny you.

His teasing finger finally slid into your core, fucking into you with ease from your slick walls.  You gasped at the welcome intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as he began a slight pace and watched the way you fell apart.

“So pretty,” he whispered. “So fucking pretty.”

He slipped another finger in, scissoring them open as he worked at you.  Your legs trembled, and it made the older man smirk.  

“Look at you,” he praised. “So easily turned into a *gushing* puddle for me.”

You nodded pathetically, back arching as he added yet another finger and pressed at the spot inside you that had your mind spinning and thoughts erasing.

“Oh—God, Jin!”

As much as Jin wanted to see you get off around his fingers, he was desperate for more. You were finally all his—something he’s wanted since he could remember. All he’s wanted was for you to be his.

He pulled his fingers from inside you and smiled as they came out slicked up with your own essence.  He ensured you made eye contact with him, then popped them into his mouth one-by-one, to suck them clean.

It made your mouth nearly fall to the floor as you watched him suck his fingers clean of you. Your body trembled with a need you hadn’t felt before. It was stronger than anything you’d felt before. It was unadulterated desire for Seokjin.

“Mm,” he sighed happily as he pulled the final digit from his mouth. “Delicious, as I thought.”

“Oh, my god,” you gaped. “Jin…,”

The man merely shook his head and smiled, crowding you down and hovering over your lips.

“You’re mine now, you got that?” 

His eyes tracked yours, watching your every movement. It took you a moment to swallow your nerves, to regain any ounce of confidence.

“I’ve always been yours, Seokjin.”

He held you down, watching you with a gleam of wonder in his eye, before surging forward and planting his lips onto yours. His tongue dove in instantly, seeking solace in the warmth of your mouth. Allowing him passage was easy, almost natural. Jin’s tongue swirled around your own as your arms slithered around his neck to bring him closer. Kissing Jin felt like everything you’d imagine it would be, and yet like nothing you could have even dreamed.

Jin didn’t just kiss you—he consumed you. He lapped his tongue into your mouth like he couldn’t get close enough to you. His chest pressed against your body and he groaned into your mouth at the feeling of your perky breasts pushing into his own broad chest.

“Baby,” he whispered as he pulled away. 

It sounded like a dream—the pet name fell from Jin’s lips so easily, as if it were always meant to be spoken to you.

“You’ve always been the one I wanted,” he breathed as he pressed his lips down your neck. “Always the girl I wanted and could never have.”

“Jin,” you gasped as your fingers carded through his hair. “Jin, you’ve always had me.”

He lifted his head and peered deep into your eyes again, so deep it felt like he was glimpsing into your soul.

“I only want you. No one else.”

It knocked you breathless, and it took a moment for you to refill your lungs before nodding.  

“I’m all yours.”

There was acknowledgement in both your admissions. An understanding that there was no more separation of you, and of Jin. That after tonight, it would be a partnership, and the beginnings of something more, something you’ve only dreamt of with the older man.

“Mine,” he whispered, before pressing his lips back to yours.

The kiss was sweet, nearly cloyingly sweet, as his hands cupped your face. He kissed you with every intention, every desperate plea he’s held in his heart for you.

Jin’s length pressed against you—his hips rutting minutely as he kissed you.

“Jin,” you gasped as you pulled away from his lip locked embrace. “Please, I need you.”

Jin’s charming smile spread across his lips, blooming your heart along with it.

“As you wish,” he whispered as he pressed in for another soft kiss..

Instantly, Jin flipped around and switched positions, guiding you to sit atop his hips while he settled down into the mess of blankets and pillows.

“What?” He asked as he noticed your confusion at the sudden mood change, a smirk rising on his puffy lips. “You think I’m gonna let you lay back and make me do all the work?”

There he was, your Seokjin. Never able to keep a comment to himself, regardless of the situation—always working to make you laugh. It made your heart sing.

His hands slid to grip at your hips while you lifted yourself up to hover over his hardened length, lining up the tip to just graze the wetness there.

“You see what you do to me?” You asked with a coy smile. “You see how badly I want you?”

Jin bit his lip, mesmerized by the way your cunt slicked up the head of his cock, desperate to spear into you but holding back.

“Fuck—,” he breathed. “P-Prove it.”

A smirk crossed your features before you took the plunge and allowed his length to slip inside you as you sank to his hips.  The intrusion was welcome, and you gaped at the sensation of him plunging deep.

“Oh, my God!” Jin gasped as you had taken him to the hilt.  His eyes bulged for a moment before they closed in bliss.  “You feel so fucking good.”

You didn’t need to speak. The feeling of Jin’s thick length inside of you was more than enough agreement.  He felt so thick, so long, prodding at the spot inside you that had you weak and stretching you wide to make you gasp at the sizzle of pain.  After a moment of adjusting to his size, you let your hands fall to his chest as you began to slowly rise and fall and set a pace on his cock.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” he whined—eyes wide open and watching you bounce on him. “Shit, this is where you belong.”

You eagerly pinched at your nipples as your pace quickened, nodding at Jin’s encouraging words. Your mouth felt dry, and you felt unable to even vocalize your pleasure beyond your loud sighs and moans.

“Jin,” you breathed.

He nodded, assisting your pace by gripping your hips.  He tugged you down, face to face, to rest on his chest while your hips kept their quick speed of enveloping his cock in your tight heat.  He let a hand cup the side of your face, the other moving to grip your ass.

“You’re all fucking mine,” he grunted as he thrusted his cock up into you, matching the rhythm of your rise and fall. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good every day, baby.”

You nodded quickly, heartbeat rising as you quickened each pound.  Jin’s lips pressed to yours again, this time messier, hotter.  He licked into your mouth, desperate for any more of you he could consume.

“Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy,” he said, cock still thrusting deep inside you. “Let me fuck you from behind?”

You didn’t bother replying, simply removing yourself from his body and assuming the position on your hands and knees.  Jin scrambled to line up behind you, hand pumping his slick cock as he marveled at the sight of you presented for him.

“Take me, please,” you whispered, turning your head to peer at him with a desperate smile. “Fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Jin hissed an expletive, before lining himself up in your sodden folds and plunging in without a second thought.  Your eyes widened at the new angle, gasping as you felt it hit different areas inside of you that had you squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock.

Jin’s hands gripped your ass, your hips, anywhere he could leave his brutal fingerprints.

“God, you take my cock like a fucking queen,” he gasped as the sound of skin slapping echoed around the tent. “Look at your pussy, so fucking wet for me.”

He marveled at the way his cock plunged deep inside you, then came out covered in your creamy slick.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? You gonna let me claim this pussy with my cum?”

The pleasure was overwhelming—it felt like every nerve ending was lit on fire, and you were a burning fuse about to detonate into a thousand brilliant explosions.  Each thrust of Jin’s thickness had you crying for more, moans echoing off the trees outside.  You were suddenly thankful you were in the middle of nowhere, allowing you to be loud and needy.

Jin reveled in your desperate sighs and the way your body pushed back against his to match his pace.  He knew his end was coming, knew it was going to be short-lived from the start. He’s wanted your body for as long as he could remember, and wanted you in his life as his lover, his girlfriend, more than just what he had been relegated to for so long.  

“Mm, baby, you look so good on your knees for me, fuck,” he gasped as his speed increased. “I can’t wait to make you cum on my cock every fucking day, love. This is my pussy now.”

Jin’s possession of your body made you see stars, vision blurring as your cunt tightened its grip around his cock.  Jin gasped at the grip and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groaned. “I feel you, baby, fuck. Cum for me, angel. Let me feel this tiny little cunt milk me.”

The coil inside you was tightening, pulling tight and making you gasp and scream at the oncoming rush.  Jin’s pounding was relentless, making your entire body shake with the anticipation.  

Your hand dipped to circle at your clit, the ultimate piece to your end. 

The coil snapped, and your cunt pulsated wildly around his cock, vice-grip tight.  It felt as if you had been catapulted off into space, vision blurring and all sound indiscernible from the blood rushing in your ears.

Jin’s climax quickly overtook him at the feeling of your delicious heat gripping at his cock.  With just a few strokes inside you, his cock pulsed hot stripes of cum within you and painted your channel.  Something primal in Seokjin loved that he was within you now, a piece of him deposited inside. 

He allowed a few moments to pass to catch his breath, before slowly easing his spent cock from your dripping walls.  He groaned as he watched a bit of his seed drip out, and he was careful to collect it on his fingers.

“Come here,” he whispered as he pressed his chest to your back and lifted you upright, sitting on your knees.  He presented his fingers to your lips, dripping with your combined slick, and wrapped his free arm around your stomach.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and allowed the man to swirl his cum-coated digits in your mouth. It made your stomach erupt in butterflies, the taste of you and the man you’ve only dreamt about for years now on your tongue.

A crack of thunder shook you from your silent reverie, and Jin removed his fingers from his mouth before wrapping both arms around you and tugging you down to lie face to face on the mused sleeping bags.

“Now, aren’t you glad we did this?” He asked with a chuckle and a kiss to your nose.

You wrinkled your brow and smiled coyly.

“I would have enjoyed it more if you hadn’t gotten us lost.”

Jin pouted and huffed.

“I didn’t get us lost,” he sniffed with indignation. “The map was wrong.”

[love-toxin]

Tumblr user Ellie please we just lost our area level competition (which is fine!! We did good and our critiques were all nice BUT we r all sad) and it’s like,,,, HARD it hurts actually so I think we all know where I’m going! I need my mans SUPPORT pls how would tsung comfort my sad ass ☹😿😿😿 (you don’t have to answer btw!! I know you’re busy with term papers, I can def read your pet comfort post for fuel!)- ur beloved tsunglovebot

im so sorry about that!!! that never feels good 🥺 but you're in luck bc you caught me just as i was finishing my second to last term paper!! here u go!!

☆ Well, to start, Tsung is nothing but affectionate with you when you're upset. It can be so strong as to feel stifling at times, but he just wants to cuddle and kiss all your sadness away if he can't find the words to do so.

☆ He's really good at calming you down, though! He not only closes off his dorm room and makes a little nest out of blankets and pillows and whatever other fuzzy things he can get his hands on for you to sleep in, but he acts as a hot water bottle for you when you cuddle. So warm and soft, and he likes holding you by the waist and burying his face in your neck as he clings to you. And if you let him kiss you, he makes each one long and gentle, hoping to ease your stress with each one.

☆ If he he's too shy to say a lot or he can't find the right words, he'll scribble out pages and pages of notes while you sleep or while you've got your head in his lap, and let you read them when you've got a minute to spare. They're full of beautiful sentiments that occasionally toe the line of being grandiose or delusional, but they're all such glowing comments either about or to you that it's hard not to feel special while reading them.

☆ Also, while you're sleeping or if you sleep over in his dorm, he'll sneak out and make you a nice little breakfast or a snack bowl to bring back, so you have something to munch on to make things a little better.

☆ He'd have to make sure his roommate is gone (although he's rarely ever home in the first place) but Tsung would draw a nice bath or get you into the shower with him to try and refresh you. Obviously he's not gonna try it if you aren't to that intimate level of your relationship, but if you are he'll help you wash your hair and will respectfully turn away if you're really shy. Yes, he's definitely gonna sneak peeks anyways, but he's trying!

☆ Overall, he's still his awkward, nervous self--but comforting you is really important to him, so he'll do just about anything you ask if it means making you feel better. Besides, nothing you trust him with will ever leave his lips, because nobody else deserves to know what he knows about you.

[leviiattacks]

hi bestie!! pls pretty pls do a levi one where he takes care of a sick y/n im feeling a bit under the weather and im getting kinda scared bc of covid :<< anything to help calm my nerves pls? thank you <3

author note :: get well soon anon :-( i’m super sick rn too (when am i not tho </3) so i get how it is. this isn’t that great because i wrote it pretty quick but i hope it eases youuu :-) this is just pure fluff and sappy stuff and yup yup MODERN LEVI BC... listen i have a soft spot for modern levi word count :: some how i got to 1.4k ????? idk how i always go over the expected word count i have in my head 

it’s literally been YEARS since the last time you were sick

if you really dig through the depths of your memory you’d say maybe you were last sick when you were seven???

it’s that or your memory is just not great

either way, you really do not want to bother anyone with your sickness so you decide to hole up in your room for the entire day

you don’t even tell levi about it because you know he’ll drop everything for the sake of your comfort

the only problem is that midway through the day you’ve become so bedridden you can’t even begin to fathom attending classes tomorrow

you guess you’ll be taking another day off

as that thought crosses your mind your bedroom door bursts open

“i...” levi lets out a long sigh and you look at him dazed from your pounding headache

you’re surrounded by scrunched up tissues and your cold meds have been left untouched

“i’m gonna get you sick too. back away.” you’re frowning and signalling with your hands that you want him out

your nose is stuffy and you’re sniffling but levi just rolls his eyes before he sits next to you on the floor

buried in your duvet you look a little like a burrito and he laughs at that

“do you know where the thermometer is? i’ll check on your fever.”

he’s looking at you waiting for an answer

you think for a second and then you try to rummage through the timeline of today’s events.

to be fair you’re a little disoriented but for some unknown reason you feel yourself get a little teary eyed

maybe it’s a mix of your upcoming deadlines looming over you or perhaps it’s missing a really important class today

but it’s so sudden you don’t even know why your body is making you act so irrationally but that’s what fevers do

“i think i” you sniff and then the waterworks flood out of you. your brain can’t adjust to the severity of your headache and your urge to sleep is higher than ever

honestly you don’t cry very much so to see the tears worries levi almost immediately

“im sorry i misplaced it.” you croak out, your voice is all scaly and weird, you hate it

stupidly you get upset about that too

don’t people sound hot when they’re sick?? why do you sound like an angry bear...?

this is not fair.

“and i’m stressed.” you blow your nose but it continues to drip despite your constant attempts to stop it

nose bright red and hair disheveled levi’s eyes soften when he sees your workbook laying at the foot of your bed

notes are scribbles in random corners and your mind map is a chaotic mess but you’re trying your best given the circumstances

god, even when you’re sick you’re working hard. you’re ridiculous but in the most endearing way known to man

“alright, lay down.” he runs a hand through your hair to fix the birds nest before he adjusts your pillows and places your head down gently

“i’m sorry i’ve lost the-”

levi’s index finger presses against your lips and he shushes you

“get some rest, please.”

you comply but not before giving him a playful glare

his warm palms move to hold your face. cheeks squished together he swipes your tears away

“i’ve got some soup on the stove you’ll be good in no time.” his soft reassurance is comforting and protective

nodding you flutter your eyes shut.

you’re unable to sleep but levi’s presence is enough to ease you even if it’s just a little you do feel better

fifteen minutes pass and levi returns he’s got you a hot cup of tea and the soup is nowhere to be seen

“i had an accident in the kitchen... so have some tea instead.”

you simply laugh it off, he’s trying his best and you’re alright with not having to be fed tomato soup

tomato soup..... it’s sick and twisted it tastes so bad

you recall having to force yourself to down an entire bowl last christmas after catching a cold

never ever again will you do that

anyways, pea soup superiority it’s the only valid type !!!

levi likes tomato soup though that’s the only reason it sits in bulk in one of the kitchen cabinets

he brushes the mountain of tissues on your bedside table away, he’ll dispose of them later

placing the cup of tea where the aforementioned tissues once were you then realize he’s brought you a slice of madeira cake to have alongside it

at this your eyes brighten you love madeira cake it’s so soft and buttery and simple but it’s just REALLY GOOD???

anyway, you definitely recommend everyone to have some it’s a solid 10/10

“picked some up on my way here.”

your heart swells affectionately

no one will ever love you as hard as he does

to be honest, the little things he does keep you grounded and you don’t really know where you’d be without him

he always pays attention to the things you love, always carries you from the couch to your bed, always tucks you in, always lingers a little just to make sure you’re sound asleep

you know about that last bit because on occasion you have stirred awake on accident

every single time he strokes your hair and holds you close ushering you back to sleep

again, you don’t know if it’s your fever making you emotional or the warm feeling of being loved so HARD?? it’s like whack a mole the only difference is being repeatedly hit by bursts of affection

not really a great analogy but your brain is fried right now and it’s the best you’ve got

levi sits next to you making the mattress shift and you then plop your head against his chest

“drink up.”

he hands you the cup of tea but you nuzzle your face into his neck instead forcing him to place it back down

“what are you doing?” he asks.

one of his hands draws circles onto your back soothing you and the other hand is fiddling around with the packaging of your cold meds, he looks to be reading the description just to make sure you can take them

the feeling of his t-shirt under your cheek fades away and you find yourself staring up at him

“get here.” he softly murmurs

rather than pressing a hand against your forehead he swoops down

at first his hands feel your face and neck

“you’re burning up.” he frowns and then he does it

he presses his forehead against yours and you swear you could stop breathing and pass out right then and there

“the fever’s getting worse, why didn’t you call me earlier i had to find out you were sick from-”

“i love you.”

he freezes.

“of course you love me but that’s not what we’re talking about right now.” he snorts and looks you right in the eye.

suddenly you’re kinda just a teeny-weeny bit self-conscious about your dark under eyes but you push that thought to the back of your mind

“no i mean. i really fucking love you levi.” the expletive only makes you sound more serious especially since you always scold him when he uses vulgar language

it looks as if his mouth moves to say it back but you stop him

“you don’t have to say it again. i’m saying it because you said it first.” you explain through your drowsy state

“when did i say it first?”

the fever must be really getting to you is what he’s thinking

“your actions spoke for you.”

he ever so slightly jabs you with his elbow before he carefully places your head back down onto his chest

“you’re so sappy.” he pecks your cheek and you hum silently still unable to breathe out of one of your nostrils

“i know but you’re sappier.”

levi doesn’t respond because he knows you’re correct

:-)

[soft-gigglez]

HI BBY

um i’m letting myself be a lil self indulgent rn so can i pls request an x reader with aether and idk just cuddling with him when you’re feeling sick or down ?? pls and thanksies🖤

(( here you go!!! hope you like it :] <3 --------------------------------------------------------------- It had been an absolutely terrible day. Actually- more of an absolutely terrible week. Murphy's Law had been having a field day with you. So, here you are now, hiding in bed and trying to ignore the bad thoughts crowding your brain. "Uh- hey, you in here?" A familiar voice was suddenly ringing in your ear, causing you to pop your head out of the blanket nest that you has buried yourself in. "Yeah- yeah- I'm here." You mumble out, thumping your head back onto the pillow. Aether smiled upon seeing you, not at all phased by the less than enthusiastic response. "Hey- where have you been? I haven't seen you all day." "Been busy." "Yeah. You seem busy." Aether snorted a bit, "What's really going on?" You try to bury yourself deeper in the blankets. "I already told you." The blond shook his head, sitting on the bed beside the sad bed lump. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's okay, but don't pretend that there isn't anything going on." When you don't respond, he flops back, laying beside you. "Cuddles?" He offers. You have never been one to say no to cuddles- especially from Aether. He's just way to good at it to refuse. Wordlessly, you untangle yourself from the blankets before moving to cuddle up next to him. Aether turns onto his side, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, your head resting on his collarbone. You relaxed as you felt his hands rubbing your back gently. After a while, those hands started to travel more towards your sides, fingertips dancing on the area. You didn't have a chance to hold back your giggles as your body melted into the touch. Aether let out a cheeky grin, "What's so funny?" "You know very well-" The sentence could not be finished as his fingers pressed in slightly harder, causing you to properly laugh. "Not fair, Aether!" "I don't hear you asking me to stop~" He teased, still tickling you to pieces. Your cheeks heated up- but not a word came out of your mouth. Only laughter. It took a few minutes for him to stop, hands coming to rest as his arms squeezed you even tighter into the warm hug. "Feel a bit better?" "Mmph- maybe." You admitted. "I mean, I could always go back to tickling-" "Aether-" That was the only thing that you could get out before being thrown into giggles yet again. This was a pretty good way to end the day.