#sorry for the excessive hearts. his hair is quite tangled as you can see

[lattechans]

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: seeing two guys at the same time isn't so bad when there's no strings attached, until it turns out the two are actually best friends. however, as they are both sweet, there is still a smugness to them both that might just be your doom.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nonidol!changbin x female reader x nonidol! wooyoung (ateez)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: pet names, oral (f and m receiving), praising/lots of dirty talk and a lot of build up

𝐚/𝐧: better late than never, right? so sorry this took so long to post, my life got in the way of writing and all that but excited to finally hear what you guys think about this duo that's just full of trouble

₁₈₊

“as promised, i’ll be making you my specialty pasta for dinner tonight,” changbin told you whilst guiding you to sit on the couch at his place. you had been seeing changbin for a about a month now and truly enjoyed every aspect of his company – he was incredibly funny and caring and you two always had something to discuss about.

it didn’t hurt that he was an incredibly good lover too, treating you just right. and yet, you were seeing someone else on the side. not because changbin wasn’t enough, he truly was. but you had made it very clear you wanted nothing serious out of the relationship, thus you had agreed on a quite open relationship for now.

“y/n,” changbin snapped you out of your thoughts and sat next to you, hand inching closer to yours. you looked at him with a bright smile, happy that you got to spend time with him again. “this might come as a big surprise to you, so please don’t freak out okay,” changbin explained. your expression switched to one of confusion when he took your hand in his and carefully rubbed circles on your skin. was there something he hadn’t told you? was he secretly married?

“yeah?” you questioned under your breath, trying not to overthink the situation yet. “so i had a chat with one of my best friends and i told him about my dates with you, about how adorable and smart you are and...you know, other things,” his voice nearly silent by the end, however, his expression giving away how the thoughts of your naked figure beneath him truly made him feel.

you let out a laugh, thinking this was all he had to say; reassuring changbin that of course he got to talk about you, even your sex life with his friends. it was completely normal.

“well, the funny part about this is that my friend, wooyoung, found a lot of the things that i described to be very familiar.”

as soon as the name left changbin’s lips, you froze. you had started seeing wooyoung about a week after you had met changbin. wooyoung had grabbed your attention at a bar and to your luck, he had made the first move and asked you out the next day. things hadn’t really escalated between you and wooyoung yet as you were very much still getting to know each other but all you knew was that his kisses left you breathless and now in hindsight, he was very similar to changbin.

“oh, i–”

“so yeah, we made a short investigation into this and what we found out was that the two of you actually do know each other. and with nothing but good intentions, i invited him over tonight so that we could have dinner all together,” changbin explained, fingers still drawing calming circles on the back your hand. however, you couldn’t help but to notice the smirk appearing on his lips when a knock was heard from the door.

with that, changbin rushed to go open the door to his best friend and you were left squirming on the couch, suddenly conscious about how you looked – tugging your dress further down your legs, trying to combat the dull ache between your legs. why was this exciting you?

you heard the friends talk for a bit by the door, casually chatting as if wooyoung wasn’t invited over because of you.

“hey sweetheart, nice to see you again,” wooyoung chatted you up as he walked into the living room, quickly signaling that it’s okay that you were sitting down before you could get up from your seat on the couch. changbin slowly followed behind him like a shadow, but nevertheless, you couldn’t help but to divert your gaze between the two of them. both of them so different but inconceivable attractive, and buff.

“hi wooyoung, glad you’re here,” you greeted him with a smile, trying to hide your somewhat flustered state.

“she’s so flustered already, did you tell her?”

“oh about the thing? no i didn’t yet. you came over sooner than anticipated,” changbin explained to wooyoung, which undoubtedly peaked your curiosity even more. was this going where you thought it would?

changbin took a few strides to be able to sit by your side, hands finding their way to yours again. his touch still warm and comforting but a mischievous glimpse behind his dark eyes. “so, the thing is that we both really like you, so we figured that–”

“that it’d be fun to hang out, the three of us and, just have a good time together,” wooyoung interrupted and inched closer to the couch. you unconsciously licked your lips, the dull ache between your legs now almost pulsating. but you didn’t want to get your hopes up just yet.

“i was getting to that wooyoung,” changbin sighed and glared at wooyoung, who in turn just snickered. you knew wooyoung could be a tease but seeing he was exactly the same even with changbin, turned you on more than he would know.

changbin looked back at you, eyes scanning your features for a reaction, expecting you to not be as excited as you turned out to be.

“there’s no pressure of course. we’re both fine with this thing and–”

you didn’t want to interrupt but you really didn’t want whatever relationship you had with the two of them to be called ‘a thing’ anymore.

“can we not call it that?”

"what?" changbin asked, brows slightly furrowed in confusion. god, he looked attractive was all you could think about before you stuttered a vague answer.

"whatever this is..." you were signaling to the three of you with your hands, trying to get them to understand what you meant without saying the words.

“oh, would you prefer us to call it a threesome then?” wooyoung said without hesitation, and to no one's surprise, with a smirk now plastered on his lips. a devilish one at that.

and as much as that word should’ve shocked you, all it did was confirm that you were all on the same page about what was happening. so, you nodded and uttered a confirmation.

“that’s right sweetie, no strings attached...just pure fun,” changbin murmured and raised your hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss on your skin. it felt like his lips left flames after them, feeling incredibly warm in your clothing.

“such a good girl,” changbin whispered against your skin before connecting his lips to yours, his lips taking your breath away. you leaned into the kiss without holding back, your hands tangling in his hair as soon as they could, eliciting a soft giggle from changbin. both of your hearts doing cartwheels.

“let me see that beautiful body of yours,” wooyoung says as he kneels down on the floor in front of you, pushing the hem of your dress up to uncover you. after that, he let his hands keep rising up until he landed on your breasts, roughly massaging them in his hand.

“no bra? fuck,” wooyoung whispered under his breath, admiring the way your body moved in slow, passionate waves as your lips were attached to changbin’s.

"i want to taste you," wooyoung almost pleaded, hands trailing back down from your breasts to your thighs. spreading them open slowly, eliciting a soft gasp from you that interrupted your kiss with changbin.

"want to get on your hands and knees?" changbin asked, although it was more of a rhetorical question – you understood it as an order to be obeyed.

...

after positioning yourself on the couch, wooyoung climbed behind you, rubbing comforting circles on your hips.

“such a good girl, now, spread your legs a little wider for m– oh wow, you are so fucking sexy, baby,” wooyoung was basically drooling behind you. his words turning you on beyond your imagination.

changbin in turn, settled to kneeling in front of you, able to hold eye contact with you and presumably, help with the growing erection visible through his pants.

wooyoung eventually tugged you closer to him, his warm breath so close to where you needed him causing your body to tense up to which he sends you a sweet smile that you only catch a glimpse of before changbin’s cock prods your lips, turning your attention back to him. and with that, wooyoung licked a stripe down from your ass to your clit.

although the suddenness of wooyoung eating you out from behind nearly makes you lose your balance, changbin is quick to help you out.

“you can hold on to me,” he ensures. you nod and slide your hands to rest on changbin’s thighs, gripping on them to stabilize yourself before his cock.

the moans that you are unable to keep at bay sound like music to both of their ears and encourage wooyoung to go harder. he might have started off slowly, but is now ruthless and eats you out as if you were his last meal. his lips latch onto your clit, alternating between sucking and pressing his tongue flat. he groans and smacks excessively, sending vibrations straight to your core and rendering you speechless. wooyoung takes and takes and takes, finally pulling you even closer to him, silently instructing you to ride his face.

you don’t know if your brain received the message, but your body surely did. although your knees were giving out on you and you were at the verge of collapsing, his tongue had you entering all stages of heaven and hell at once and you kept chasing for more.

“babe, look at me.”

you pick up changbin’s command and look up at him. your hips stuttering once you met his eyes, half-lidded and blown with lust. he’s staring at you as if he was about to devour you, burning the very image of you in his mind.

“i think it’s time for us to give that pretty mouth of yours something to do, huh?”

you drew your tongue out as changbin slowly slid his length into your mouth, lewd groans leaving his lips as you took him in as deep as you could. you built up a pace he was pleased with, sucking on him with fervour, moans threatening to spill past your lips even with your mouth full. but you knew changbin liked it messy, so you were not afraid of letting saliva drip down your jaw onto the sofa, trying to slurp it up.

it didn’t take long before changbin was as much of a mewling mess as you were, choking on his spit as you continued to swallow around him, throat wet and tight.

behind you, wooyoung is nearly growling, telling you to be good and suck changbin, and you moan around the cock in your mouth at the filthy words he’s spitting right into you.

“gonna take him down your throat? let him fuck you? will you let him pound into your throat till you can’t even talk?”

you shudder as wooyoung presses his lips on the small of your back, hand coming to contact with your ass as a light spank. you can tell by the tilt in his voice that he’s smiling, and it sends embarrassment surging through you, and arousal. being sandwiched between these two beautiful men while you suck one of them off and the other one whispers filth against your skin, fingers dancing on your ass like a dream come true.

your pace quickens on changbin, your own high not too far away as wooyoung kept his attention on your clit, sucking on you with new hunger.

changbin’s hands tangle themselves in your hair, pulling softly on the strands as he loses himself in the rhythm; wooyoung slightly rocking you forward and making your mouth meet perfectly with changbin’s thrusts.

“fuuck, don’t stop,” he pleads, “i’m so close” and his head falls back, eyes squeezed shut. changbin’s skin is hot to the touch, and you notice the way his abs clench and his hard length throbs in your mouth. his lips are plump and pink from biting down on them to quiet himself, but it’s no use. the way your mouth so enthusiastically swallows around him has him falling face-first towards a climax.

his hips stutter and his thighs shake slightly under your touch, waves of pleasure rocking through his body as he finally releases thick white ropes of cum on your tongue. your mouth, tongue, and hands continue to work him, cum and saliva dripping down the side of his length as you suck him thoroughly, moaning around his tip for good measure. the sensation of it all almost overwhelming him now.

“i think it’s your turn darling,” changbin teased as he held your jaw, his cock falling from your mouth with a quiet pop, a moan leaving your lips directly as wooyoung hit an incredibly sweet spot with his tongue.

wooyoung just moans in response, clutching onto your hips as changbin toys his fingers now on your lips, admiring the way that there was still remnants of him around your lips.

“keep your eyes on me as you cum,” changbin hisses, chewing on his bottom lip as he watches the scene unfold. he swears he could’ve ascended to heaven right there and then as you struggle to maintain eye contact with him; struggle to keep your eyes open as you begin unraveling on wooyoung’s tongue.

your mouth opens for a silent scream, their names leaving your lips as gasps for air. you come back to soft praises, gentle hands wiping at your forehead, patting your shoulders, nimble fingers fixing your hair away from your eyes.

as wooyoung and changbin both look at you, the former rubbing softly at your wrist while the later stares at your teary eyes in quiet wonder, you allow yourself to smile at them.

“that was amazing.”

“glad you had as much fun as we did,” wooyoung murmured, wiping the sides of your mouth with a warm washcloth. you would have usually protested such treatment but you couldn’t lie – the sides of your mouth hurt from changbin’s girth and the soothing rubs on your thighs made the burning between them feel less uncomfortable.

after what felt like forever, changbin gently leaned to give you a tender kiss, letting himself sink down beside you on the couch. your thank yous were slurred, but he just shushed you and placed another kiss on your forehead.

“wooyoung c’mere,” you giggled when you realized that he had simply sat on the armrest of the couch, further away from you two. he took a quick look at changbin, and although you were unsure of what their silent stare meant, you welcomed him for a kiss that still faintly tasted like you nonetheless.

couldn't you just have the both of them?

taglist @es-kay-zee @lizsvcks

[glowingbadger]

Seteth teaching shy reader how to kiss (with tongue) for the first time 🥺

Can I just say.

That I inevitably end up becoming the forefront of the Church of Seteth on every social media platform I touch.

And it's my own fault. And I'm okay with it. Thank you all for thirsting for Dragon Daddy with me.

Seteth (FE3H) x GN Reader - kissing lesson

Semi-spicy idk

Seteth has always been careful towards you- it's in his nature. And yet, you know that behind his carefully curated existence as the stalwart big brother and stoic advisor, there's a man with some measure of... well, experience. And for all the experience that you yourself lack, you long to see his put to use. When you finally see a glimpse of it, it's not quite how you'd expected.

You've had a long day. The kind of ordinary long day that makes you resent how it's dragged you down. Nothing in particular had caused you excessive stress- it was all more or less business as usual. But business as usual can begin to weigh on a person after so many days, and you long for the chance to visit the nearby shores, or walk through town without a list of errands in hand. The thought of inviting Seteth on anything approximating a "date" is tempting- but you're certain he couldn't possibly find the time. As the thought occurs to you though, you hear his familiar voice outside of your room.

"Y/N, do you have a moment?" he asks, formal and yet with the tenderness in his tone that he only uses with you. Scurrying to the door, you open it with a broad smile and invite him in,

"What a surprise- aren't you busy?"

"Always," he says with a bemused sigh, "but I do try to make time for you when I can. And I can't help but notice that you seem particularly worn these days."

"Is it that obvious?" you say with an awkward half-smile, "Well, I'm honored to have you to myself for a bit."

At your encouragement, Seteth sits at the edge of your bed (though you notice, he's careful to keep a gentlemanly distance from you), and offers you a pastry he'd rescued from the dining hall before they were all taken. The two of you make light conversation as you enjoy dessert together. You assure him that nothing's wrong, you're just exhausted, and he promises to take time off to go somewhere together soon. Truly, you're feeling bubbly and warm just to have this quiet time together.

And yet what causes you to seek out his lips is no less than a lovely cliche. With fond, half-lidded eyes, Seteth leans close to brush a crumb from the corner of your lips as you finish your last bite- and your restraint fractures. You kiss him firmly, and he makes a short sound of surprise, but doesn't pull away. Emboldened, you shift closer to him on the bed, and feel his warm hand cup your cheek. Then- a new sort of warmth. His tongue brushes your bottom lip, and something powerful and urgent rises from the core of your body. You catch your breath. You shiver. Seteth lurches away.

"I- I'm sorry- I don't mean to press you into anything you would not-"

"Hold on- Seteth, it's just-" you say with a shy chuckle, "I, uh... well, I've never really kissed... quite like that before."

He looks dumbfounded, his fair skin flushed bright red.

"Goddess, I..." he holds one of your hands in his, looking for all the world like a sinner at the alter, "Please forgive me- you must think me some sort of predatory-"

You say his name firmly, resisting the urge to laugh once again.

"I liked it- I was just surprised, and... didn't really know what to do," you move closer still to him, "Will you uhm... teach me?"

Seteth breathes in, and once more his hand comes to caress the contour of your cheek,

"How can I possibly refuse such a request?" he says softly. His thumb traces the curve of your lower lip, and his eyes flicker down, then back up to yours. "Well then, if you'd like a lesson, then pay close attention."

When he presses his lips to yours this time, you can already feel the difference. His head tilts slightly, deepening the kiss. His breath is warm and steady, and he smells like church incense and fine parchment. Your body instinctively leans into him, and this time, when his tongue presses along the crease of your lips, you open them for him. Seteth teases your tongue with his, using slow, sensual movements. You do your best to reciprocate, but the elegantly skillful way his lips and tongue move has you near breathless, your heart pounding up to your throat. Finally, he pulls away just enough to murmur,

"You're doing well- just like that. Do what feels natural and pleasurable to you, and you'll fall into a natural rhythm of sorts."

This time, you tug lightly at the front of his robes and kiss him. Seteth utters a low, approving groan, then graciously opens his lips to you as you try to mimic his actions from before. Goddess, his taste and the softness of his lips are positively addictive. You can't help returning to him again and again, letting him show you through his motions how to run your tongue along his, how your lips move in tandem with his, and then-

"Nngh-" you let out a sound of surprise as Seteth nips at your bottom lip. Your heart lurches and your body burns, your fists clenching tight enough to leave crescent marks on your palms. For a moment, you part from him. He looks about to question you- you imagine he's concerned that he's pushed too far once again. But as you shift on the bed and climb up onto his lap, he's silent. With a touch of disbelief in his voice, he whispers your name, then draws you to him with his fingers tangling into your hair.

"You're quite the... quick learner..." he says softly in the rare moments his tongue isn't tangled with yours. Your fists grip the front of his clothing, noticing for the first time just how firm and defined the muscles of his chest are beneath his usual attire. Eventually, you manage,

"You're simply an excellent tutor," before returning to him in full. Before long, you're both practically breathless. You'd never imagined that mere kissing could feel so intimate- so erotic. But the way Seteth's tongue plays slowly and sensually against yours, and the way his strong hands hold you flush against his body have your pulse pounding and your head spinning.

"Seteth," you say, though it comes out close to a moan, "Will you... teach me just a little more?"

"Anything," he replies, still so close that his lips brush yours when he speaks, "I am utterly at your service."

[mizunetzu]

haha it's me again! could i get iida dating a delinquent male reader? (stuff like he smokes and breaks rules) like iidas trying to get the reader to follow the rules and he's like "i'll do that if you go on a date with me" so he does and the readers actually a really chill guy and they have a fun time, some fluff please?

IIDA DUDE MY GOD. MY RELIGION. MY SAVIOR. ok. Okok so. You said fluff and I delivered. But like-I mayyyyybe sprinkled in some angst. No worries. Fluff ending guaranteed. Also you know I enjoyed writing something when I broke my 1000 words rule. Like sheesh this is 3000 pLUS WORDS-

Also if iidareaders reblogs I’ll eat my shirt in joy

——————

Iida x reader - Selfish Promise

⚠️warnings - delinquent reader? Selfish-y Iida? Idk. None lmao

Pronouns - male, he/him

——————

(Y/n) wasn’t going to lie. Iida really got on his nerves. He’s always up his ass about sagging his pants down low, or running in the hallways. It’s not like it was his business. He was in class 1-B, for god sakes.

Everyone in 1-A knew him as that “1-B boy” who always liked fucking with Iida. And he did, it was fun to see him get all pissy and red when he unbuttoned his dress shirt to the point you could easily flash him if you tugged hard enough. Iida was pretty, but even more pretty when he’s flustered. He wasn’t going to deny the fluttery feeling in his chest when he sees an opportunity to interact with Iida.

Which is how (y/n) found himself smoking outside the UA dorms, sitting outside on the steps and staring up at the sky. He didn’t smoke much, only when he really needed to destress, but something felt compelling to just pull one out today.

He already heard the engine boosted footsteps hurling his way, a smile growing on his lips. Once the blue haired boy was in sight however, he wiped it off and replaced it with a neutral expression.

“You shouldn’t be smoking on school property, (L/n)-kun!”

“Mm? And you shouldn’t be on 1-Bs dorms. Wait til Vlad or Monoma finds out.”

Iida stumbled back, biting back the scowl forming on his face. He took the cigarette out from (y/n’s) fingers, and stomped on it. (Y/n) clicked his tongue as Iida hiked his glasses up his nose further.

“Stop acting like such a ruffian!”

“Then go on a date with me.”

Iida choked on his own spit. He knew that (y/n) joked around a lot, but this was just excessive.

“(L-L/n), you shouldn’t joke about such intimate matters like that with someone you barely kn-“

“I’m not joking.” (Y/n) stood up from his step, and stood infront of the taller boy. “I’m dead serious.”

Iida opened his mouth, then closed it. “(L/n) it is highly inappropriate for two students, let alone boys, to go on a romantic outing! This is a place for learning!”

“How bout we make a promise then? A deal if you must.” (Y/n) seemed completely calm, but inside he was sweating like a clam. He had said it on impulse, and there was no going back. Either sell it till he declines or hell, he has a date.

“If you be my boyfriend and go out with me for one full day, I’ll stop acting like a ‘ruffian’ or something. I’ll follow the rules and whatnot.”

“B-boyf...” Iidas words got caught in his mouth. “W-WHY?”

“I’m not going to try anything...! It’s..it’s just for my own...reasons...! If...that makes sense...”

Iida ran a hand through his hair. Did (L/n), a delinquent, like-like him? A proper former man from the Iida family? He wasn’t romantically attracted to the shorter boy at all, but this was a good chance! He could finally be set on the right path if he agreed to be his significant other for one day! Easy enough!

Iida pushed up his glasses once more. “Fine. I will do it. But afterwards you better keep your end of the bargain.”

(Y/n) held the tiniest smile and extended his pinky. Iida looked at him confused, before hesitantly interlocking their fingers and shaking it.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Gimme your number. I’ll text you the info later.” They exchanged phone numbers, and Iida bid him goodbye.

(Y/n) felt like he was on top of the world.

—————

“Oi Iida! Over here!” (Y/n) waved his arms around frantically, trying to get the boys attention. Iida spotted him, and made a beeline towards him. He gave a smile and bowed slightly.

“Good morning, (L/n)-kun.”

“Morning! Haha, I’m glad you came! I didn’t think you’d actually show...and you’re on time aswell! As expected of uptight iida.”

(Y/n) was in a pink, slightly oversized hoodie and black sweatpants. Iida was expecting him to be in full black, ripped clothing with skulls on it. He wasn’t expecting him to look so...soft? If you looked at him, you wouldn’t think he was the same person smoking on the steps of a prestigious school.

“Oh well, what time did you get here?”

“An hour ago.”

Iida deadpanned. Even he wasn’t that extra. “Why...”

(Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck shyly and chuckled. “I was so happy I couldn’t wait, ahaha!”

(Y/n’s) probably smiled more times today then the whole time he’s been enrolled into UA. It was an odd sight, but Iida felt a sort of proudness that he was probably the only one who got to see this side of him. He glanced at his face one more time, this time, looking at his red eyes and cheeks.

“...are your eyes swollen..?”

“Oh I...I couldn’t sleep...”

(Y/n) awkwardly chuckled for the 100th time that morning. Iida was about to go on a tangent about how sleep is important to you, but (y/n) suddenly grabbed his wrist, and pulled him forwards. He was practically dragging the poor boy.

“Is there anything specific you wanna do, Iida?” (Y/n) mused, looking around the plaza.

Iida shrugged.

“No, not really. Today’s more of your day, so I’m fine with anything.”

A bright red painted itself onto (y/n’s) cheeks, as he turned back around to hide it. It was usually iida getting all red and flustered, (y/n) wasn’t used to it. Still, it felt kinda nice.

“Awesome dude!”

(Y/n) went on rambling about places they could go to or eat at, but Iidas ears drowned out the noice as he looked at his smiling face. He didn’t know someone so...rude, could look so sweet. (Y/n) tugged at Iidas shoulder.

“...though I suppose, we could just go to a field and train, right?”

—————

(Y/n) got back up to his feet for the 5th time, and charged at Iida. He knew he couldn’t beat him with speed, so he’d have to rely on his quirk as much as he could. They were sparring in a little patch of grass near a small clearing, with a big tree providing the two boys shade. Iida swerved out of the way, making the smaller boy tumble onto the ground face first.

“Ah! (Y/n)! Are you okay?”

Iida rushed to the boys side and tangled his fingers in his hair. “It’s a little swollen but it’s not bleedi...(L/n)-kun...?”

(Y/n) hid his blush with the back of his hands and tensed up. “You..called me...(y/n)...dude..”

It was Iidas turn to tense up. His glasses fogged up as he swung his arms around madly. “IM TERRIBLY SORRY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, I SWEAR! IJUSTGOTWORRIEDANDSAIDITONACCIDEN-“

“Dude it’s fine! I-I dont mind..!” (Y/n) jabbed him lightly on the chest.

“L-let me treat you to some food! As apology for your head I mean!” Iida stood up, pulling (y/n) to his feet aswell.

—————

(Y/n) was rambling on nervously again, with chopsticks resting nimbly between his fingers. Iida couldn’t help but gaze at his face. His eyes were softer than he expected, softer than the mockingly hardened eyes he pointed like a sword towards people at UA. His gentle clad smile could raise the heavens, with one crinkle near his left eye and a dimple dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. He had unusually long eyelashes for a guy, but it made him look even more pretty for a bad boy.

“Why are you a delinquent at school when you’re such a sweet and funny person?” The words dripped out of Iidas mouth unconsciously, quickly covering his mouth too late.

(Y/n) flushed bright red, squeezing his chopsticks a little too tightly. “W-well...I don’t know. It’s not like I’m doing it on purpose. People just think I am because i don’t like socializing with everyone I meet? Like-id rather hang out with someone I know and like than go out of my my way to befriend all of class B, y’know? Does that make sense? Ahaha sorry I’m rambling again. I don’t get to talk much with my few friends. And they’ve pretty much heard everything I have to say so it’s refreshingtotalktoa-“

Iida cut him off before he talked his tongue off. “If you don’t talk to people you don’t know well, then why are you talking to me so openly?”

“Because I like you.”

(Y/n) said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. He wasn’t tripping over his words, or laughing nervously. He looked at Iida and said it like saying “the sky is blue” with so much certainty, it made a knot tighten in iidas throat.

Iidas question was, why though? Why did his heart thump along the buttery smooth rhythm of (y/n’s) voice? Why did his head reel every time he saw (y/n’s) eyes light up talking about something he found interesting? Why was he at such a loss for words when his gaze fell on him so attentively?

Iida cleared his throat. Maybe he was just excited to have a new friend. He didn’t see him in a romantic light! How could he? He’s just worked up on the fact that this hardass delinquent boy wasn’t who he thought he was.

“Shall we go, then?”

————

The date went by like a dream. Technically it wasn’t over yet, as the promise was for a full “day”, but window shopping and dicking around while Iida chops aggressively really tires you out. They both ended the day by sparring at the same clearing, before taking refuge on a bus stop bench. The sun was completely gone. Leaving behind the pasty purple and blue sky, washing over and killing the clouds.

“Ahhh, time flies by so fast! Damn, well, the days still not yet over soooo.”

“Yes, yes I know.” Iida chuckled. He thought he was going to have to bear through this day, but it was actually quite splendid. He definitely feels like he’s made a new friend.

“Well, is there anything you wish to do before the day is over?”

“Yeah um, so,” (y/n) cast his eyes down, fiddling with his fingers. “C-can we hold hands..?”

Iida wordlessly set his hand on top of (y/n’s) smaller one, waiting as he interlocked their fingers together. His hand was warm, way warmer than (y/n) was expected. He didn’t know, Iida seemed like a cold hands guy.

They sat quietly under the ambient streetlight, occasionally rubbing a thumb over the others hand, feeling it’s warmth and staring off into the distance. Iida didn’t notice his eyes drooping lower and lower until they were finally closed.

Iida let his thoughts roam. It was something he did when he was going to bed, or simply just resting his eyes for a bit. He thought of his family, what he would do for class on Monday, and finally, (y/n). It was the most prominent thing on his mind, and not because he was unconsciously resting his head on his shoulder, softly but firmly gripping the warm hand underneath his own.

The idea of (y/n) so soft and vulnerable in front of anyone else didn’t sit right with him. He wanted that sweet, kind side all to himself. It was selfish, and even wrong if he thought about it. (Y/n) was so sweet and respectable during this “date” of theirs. Perfect manners for when inside the classroom. If anything, he should be more than glad to have the world share this side of him.

So why was he feeling this way?

He felt a shoulder nudge from under his head, before a hand started vigorously poking at his cheek. He initially ignored it, but once he registered the current situation he jerked up and

“Iida. Iida wake up. It’s 11:40. We should be heading back before midnight. A-at least I want to so we can um...we can still technically legally hold hands by promise-“

Iida rubbed at his eyes in embarrassment. “My sincerest apologies for falling asleep! It was not my intention-“

”oh no it’s all good! I-I kinda fell asleep too. It’s been like...2 hours.”

Iida checked his watch. (Y/n) was right. 11:45 pm. He knocked his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose and stood up. He extended a hand to (y/n) who tiredly accepted it and pulled himself off the bench.

They spedwalked towards the train station to catch a train back to UA, when (y/n) tugged on his sleeve, halting temporarily.

“Iida.”

Iida turned around with a hum. (Y/n) kept his eyes fixated on the ground, but held on to the sleeve of Iidas jacket like a lifeline.

“Today...is almost over.”

“Yes, um, it’s about 11:57 so we should hurry back-“

“Before the day officially ends,...can you kiss me?”

Iida focused on (y/n’s) downcast face. It wasn’t an expression of nervousness or any sort of flustered emotion. Instead it held a look of unreadable shame.

“If you do, then I would have no regrets. My feelings for you will also end here. I’ll try my best to end it. My feelings grow stronger for you everyday when we bicker or when I simply just see you, so I want to end this with a grand fina-“

“I refuse.”

(Y/n) looked up. Iida glasses glared white, preventing him from seeing his cerulean eyes. But he got his answer from the frown Iida was sporting on his face. Even he could agree, it was a silly request, but he couldn’t help by feeling just a tad bit hurt by how quickly he was shut down.

“I understand.”

(Y/n) averted his eyes, flushing with embarrassment. He scanned the area for something other than Iida to look at, before his eyes landed on the parks clock.

12 am.

Midnight.

The date was officially over.

(Y/n) was quick to let go of the sleeve he’d been clutching for a while now. “A-ah! The day has ended. The dates over.”

He stepped back and ducked his head into a 90 degree bow. “Thank you so so much for coming with me today.”

“I’m really happy.”

His expression betrayed his words. If there was one word to describe it, Iida would say it looked dead. Hollow, even. It looked hollow, like the sinking feeling harboring itself in his chest. He knocked against his ribcage multiple times to shake the achy feeling in his chest, but it never went away.

“Well, let’s head back now. It’s late.”

(Y/n) silently walked past Iida. It wasn’t until seeing his watery face drenched in silent hot tears walk by that Iida realized,

He was in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

He was in love with the sweet delinquent boy who smokes and sits on desks, but also has the most hypnotizing laugh. He was in love with the boy who wore saggy pants to school, but also wore an oversized pink hoodie that made Iida reluctantly imagine him wearing one of his own jackets. Oh, how cute he would look.

He was hopelessly, graciously, entirely in love with (L/n) (Y/n).

Iida ran up to (y/n), who had walked past him and kept going with the assumption that he was behind him. His breath crystallized in the form of fog when he ran, faster than he ever did without using his engines. There wasn’t enough time to hike the fabric of his pants up, and he’d rather not burn them to a crisp with the steam from his engine.

“(L-L/n)!”

He wasn’t sure if he heard him. He was still a great length away.

“(L/n)!”

He was closer now. Close enough for him to hear. He was either lost in his thoughts or outright ignoring him.

“(Y/N)!”

The boy whipped his head around so fast, his tears flung into the cold air and landed beside him on the ground. Iida didn’t think far ahead as to brace for landing, choosing instead to glomp (y/n) into a soul crushing hug. Though, it was more of a tackle with the the way they both tumbled over and hit the ground with a thud.

(Y/n) was able to soften the blow with his quirk, but the impact of Iida landing on his chest still knocked the wind out of him. He was waiting for Iida to start swinging his hands and start apologizing profusely, but instead got pulled up to his knees and encased in a more gentle hug.

He was buried in the crook of Iida neck, who in return nuzzled himself into (y/n’s) hair. They stood, or rather kneeled, in a stiff silence, rocking back and forth ever so gently.

“Sorry.”

“Wah! Don’t apologize! You did nothing wrong, you had the full right to deny my request-“

“No, not for that.” Iida untangled himself from the warmth of (y/n’s) body to look at him seriously. “I’m sorry for breaking our promise. Our deal.”

(Y/n) wiped his stray tears away, all bitterness turning itself into lighthearted confusion. “But you didnt-“

(Y/n’s) words fizzled out in his throat when a pair of lips shut him up. His eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms shakily around Iidas neck, drawing him closer than he already his. After what seemed like forever, Iida suddenly jumped back with fogged up glasses and heavy blush on his face.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! Forgive me!”

“You know, all you’ve done was apologize all day. Is this what you normally do in class?”

“NO!” Iida fell back on his ass, a yelp escaping from his throat. (Y/n) chuckled ironically, pushing himself up to his feet and extending a hand towards the blue haired boy.

“I still don’t see how you broke our deal.”

Iida dusted himself off and adjusted his glasses. “Well-listen I-“ For once in his life, he was at a loss for words.

“I...want to e-extent it. O-Our date, I mean.”

Iida stood rigid as a board as (y/n) blinked.

“Wait-so like, you’ll go out with me tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“And the day after that.”

“Yes I suppose so.”

“A-and how bout a week from now-“

Iida grabbed (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him roughly. And by rough, I mean rough. This boy has enough beef to throw (y/n) into the sun.

“I-I WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU FOREVER! I WANT YOU TO BE MY BOYFRIEND! I...I WANT TO BE YOUR BOYFRIEND! I WANT YOUR KINDNESS AND SWEETNESS ALL TO MYSELF! SO BE IT YOU’RE UNINTENTIONALLY A NEGLIGENT BOY AT SCHOOL! I WANT THIS SPECIAL SIDE OF YOU RESERVED FOR MYSELF! IVE NEVER BEEN SELFISH IN MY WHOLE LIFE SO SURELY THIS IS FINE! I WANT TO BE SELFISH! I WANT TO HOLD YOU IN MY ARMS MORE! I WANT TO GO ON SOME MORE DATES WITH YOU! (Y/N)-KUN I LOVE YOU!”

Iida has never considered himself selfish. He wasn’t the type to want something all to himself. If his friends wanted to be friends with someone he disapproved of, so be it. If he bought food but a fellow classmate was starving, he’d be eating only half as his classmate would be happily munching on their portion. If it was reasonable, he’d be willing to give up anything. It was the right thing to do.

Surely all of those good deeds would permit him to be selfish just this once. He’d never known the feeling of wanting something so bad to the point you felt like you were boiling. Of wanting no one else to have someone look at them the same way they looked at him. And how utterly satisfying it felt to have someone to claim as your own. Just this once couldn’t hurt anyone.

And by god, the impossibly wide smile (y/n) held was one thousand percent worth it.

————

“Halt! No running in the hallways, (L/n)-Kun!”

(Y/n) slowed down to a stop and sighed. “Dude, get off my dick.”

“Still pestering (L/n) huh? As expected of Iida!” Mina and Uraraka giggled, as they both disappeared inside the 1-A classroom. The hallway was empty now, making both Iida and (y/n) relax. (Y/n’s) pissed off expression softened, a smile now growing on his face. Iida swears it’s like talking to two different people. It’s kind of scary.

“Good morning, Tenya-Chan~”

“Uh-uh. Don’t ‘Tenya-Chan’ me. You know the rules. You owe me a kiss for breaking a rule. Gimme.”

Iida made grabby hands at (y/n), puckering his lips jokingly. God, he didn’t want to admit it but (y/n’s) sense of humor was rubbing off on him.

(Y/n) snorted at his boyfriends antics, pressing a gentle kiss onto his mouth. “Well-I gotta go, bye bye, Tenya! See you later. Call me, you sexy lamppost.”

(Y/n) timpered off to his classroom, his bad boy attitude returning once he stepped inside. Iida stood there, in utter confusion, before turning around and walking inside his own class.

“Ne ne, Iida, I’ve noticed you’re kinda like...less strict with that 1-B baddie. What’s up?”

Mina followed behind Iida with a curious, shit eating smile on her face.

“Ah. We...became good friends. He’s not as bad as I thought, I suppose.”

Mina looked at Iida unconvinced.

“You know, I saw you and bad boy kissing out there. My god. Iida. You gay liar.”

Iida, along with probably everyone else in class 1-A, collectively choked on air.

——————

[shanitani]

oooo ohmygoodness a deku, kiri (and maybe ochaco 👀) with a reader that minor inconveniences keep happening to them. like they are hanging out or on a date or something and they keep like getting bumped into, or they get a drink spilled on them, or they get their phone stolen/misplaced, etc. like i can just imagine these sweeties trying their damnest to make it ok for their s/o but SHIT it just keeps happening and their s/o is legit like “...one of these days... i am going to snap...” kinda fluffy, leaning towards comfort a tiny bit. it’d be so cute

includes: Deku x reader , kirishima x reader, uraraka x reader

contains: pure fluff

a: hi love I’m so sorry I didn’t make this soon enough, it got drowned with the requests I’ve been trying to push out since February(I’m horrible, I know) I do hope you enjoyed it tho:’)

kirishima

- At first he thought it was just a minor fall, nothing to worry about

- Throughout your dates though he starts realize he fell for a massive clutz

- Would lowkey try to be at your side 25/8 to make sure you don’t fall and hit your head on something 

- he likes how independent you are but.. he cares more about your safety than anything 

- at first you thought it was annoying how he babied you, then you started to realize that maybe you did need to be babied..

You and Kirishima were walking down the hall after classes were over, the sun had almost set and you both were walking back to the dorm room from an intensive training; one trip away and you’d be rolled off to Recovery girl. 

Your eyes grew heavy watching the clouds move in unison to you and your boyfriend. The clouds had a thick white dust surrounding them making the sky look beautiful. Caught up in your thoughts, the next thing you know is you’re being pulled by the waist closer to Kirishima. 

“Gosh babe watch where you’re going” Kirishima let out an exhale and motioned you to look at the poll that was 4 centimeters away from hitting you in the face.

“sorry..” you nervously laughed pulling his hand back to your waist. He looked at you with a silent questioning expression, “You know, just if I accidentally almost walk into a pole again.”

Izuku

- honestly you’re both clutz lmfao

- He just so happens to be attracted to one as well

- but he loves you for it!! He thinks it’s adorable

- and he secretly likes caring for you it’s always been him getting cared for by others when he was younger( or pitied for having no quirk, let the boy love you please)

You were both at the library, just browsing for books to take back to the dorms since you had such an admiration for reading. He did too, if it had anything to do with Heroes.

“Y/N, how does this book sound- “ he whipped around to see you weren’t behind him anymore. scanning the crowd of students lurking at books he finally found your figure standing at the checkout line.

“oh, there you are!” you smiled at him waiting for Izuku to finish checking out his book, and to walk straight to the dorms. He’d always walked with you because 1. he loves you and adores you and 2. You’re clumsy as fuck and would probably get yourself hurt just from a five minute walk

Midoriya scanned through his phone during the walk, he was sure nothing could happen to you during such a short time of answering unseen messages, right?

wrong.

he had looked up for a split second, just to check if you and him were going in the right direction. That’s when he looked back up once more, seeing you were nose deep into your new book, not even noticing the crosswalk signal had turned red instead of green.

With pure instinct Izuku went into full cowling, grabbing your hand right on time as you stepped foot onto the busy street and slamming both of you towards the ground. You looked up confused and flushed, now observing the scene of what just could’ve possibly happened to you.

No words were exchanged, just a tight hug onto Izuku. He swore he could’ve felt dampness onto his shirt which tugged at his heart strings.

“I’m sorry I’m a clutz” you mumbled into his shirt and pulled tighter onto him, still on the ground. “No need to say sorry, love. I signed up for this.” he gave you a reassuring smile kissing your temple.

uraraka

- she honestly doesn’t mind how clumsy you are

- honestly she finds it hilarious how things keep happening to you, meanwhile she’s fine.

- even though she does poke fun at you her intentions mean well and she’ll always reassure you that you’re far from cursed.

“will that be all ma’am?” You nodded your head giving him the menus.

“wow this place is really nice” uraraka gaped at the scenery in front of her. Candles lit, lights to a dim, and roses in vases everywhere. “Well you’re amazing, so of course I had to you somewhere amazing.” Even through minimal lighting you can see her face turn into a bubbly pink.

It was your anniversary with Uraraka, you still felt the same love for as you did one year ago when you both met at UA; so tonight absolutely had to be perfect. (aka mentally making a note to self: don’t fuck up tonight.)

With her quirk it’s quite easy to stop things from falling onto you or you getting into trouble for the most part, so tonight you wanted to make sure she didn’t have to.

It was going well for the most part, just admiring each other, talking about both of yours day and whatnot, that was until your food arrived. “Here you are ladies enjoy your food.” The waiter smiled handing out the drinks, accidentally spilling it your water onto your lap.

“I apologize!” The waiter looked anxious, ready for his job to be taken quicker than he gotten it. But, you simply smiled and shook your hands, “no it’s fine! I’ll be right back gorgeous, okay?” you attempted to head off into the bathroom to wipe off the excess water from your dress. However, you had managed in the process of sitting down to tangle your hair into the crevices of the booth you were sitting at.

Attempting to pull away from the table, you shot right back down from the tangled mess keeping you from leaving. From the impact, a small rose vase had tipped from the booth handle, making water splash over your hair and face. It was no surprise you fell defeated by life once again.

Uraraka smiled, trying to die down the laughter bubbling up because she knew you were trying to just have a normal dinner. “Let’s go home okay? We’ll get you cleaned up” she reassuringly rubbed your thigh trying to make the best out of this situation.

Tears stained your cheeks even though they weren’t noticeable, as everything else had been drenched in water too. “I’m sorry I messed up dinner.” Your head hung low, causing Uraraka to tip it back to her eye level and kissed your nose.

“It’s perfect, you’re perfect. It wouldn’t have been amazing if you weren’t you.”

© all content belongs to shotosluv2021, do not repost or change

masterlist

[iboughtaplant]

I tried to write angst! Here is a short Geraskier fic I wrote based on the Regina Spektor song Samson. 

A Pair of Dull Scissors in the Yellow Light 

Rating: T

Warnings: no archive warnings 

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier 

Tags: Established Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Blood, Head Injury, Haircuts, Sort Of, Songfic, Song: Samson (Regina Spektor), a lot about Geralt's hair, I love Geralt's long hair so idk why I wrote a fic about his hair being chopped off

Read it on AO3

Geralt’s hair had always been long the whole time Jaskier knew him. Granted, Jaskier hadn’t known Geralt for very long compared to how old the witcher was.

When he first saw him, Jaskier was drawn to the quiet witcher seated in the corner. His long silver-white hair framing his handsome face. He was then of course drawn to the medallion and swords that marked him as a witcher. Not just excited to talk to a pretty face, but to hear the stories he could tell.

They might not have got off to the best start, but Jaskier...he loved Geralt. It might have been a bit of hero worship at first, this brave, strong witcher with a heart of gold. Branded as a mutant, a butcher, the stuff of nightmares in stories told to small children. But Jaskier loved him first. He loved Geralt above all else. His lute might be a close second, but that didn’t detract from the fact that he loved Geralt first.

It also meant he was already head over heels in love with Geralt when Geralt finally confessed that the love was mutual a few years into their friendship.

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

Soon after Geralt confessed his feelings, Jaskier also learned about how Geralt’s long hair was linked to his witcher abilities. He already knew that its silver-white color was due to Geralt’s mutagens, but he hadn’t known there was more to it.

They were in Oxenfurt and Jaskier’s hair was getting too long for his liking, so it was the perfect excuse to spend some of the coin he earned playing in a tavern the night before on a proper haircut from a barber.

“Geralt, you should come with me. I am sure I have enough coin to pay for you to get your hair trimmed.”

“It’s fine, Jaskier. It doesn’t need to be cut.”

“Well maybe it doesn’t need it, but a haircut can be nice and relaxing. I know you love when I wash your hair for you, and they will do that at the barber’s as well.”

“No, Jaskier, it doesn’t need to be cut because it is always the same length.”

“But doesn’t your hair grow? Is it magic that keeps it from growing out of control?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt answered with a “hmm.” He took a long pause before saying more. “It must be tied to the spells the mages used, however they might have changed the mutagens. I don’t know. I don’t cut my hair. And it doesn’t grow past a certain length.”

Geralt then told Jaskier that due to some odd reaction between his body, the extra mutagens, and the magic of the mages his hair was cursed to be tied to the abilities and heightened senses the mutagens afforded him.

Jaskier had thought that Geralt’s long hair had been his one vanity. But of course it was yet another thing out of his control. But it made him curious if Geralt was the only witcher whose hair was tied to his powers.

“I’ve never heard of another witcher with white hair like yours,” Jaskier said. He didn’t want to ask a more pointed question.

“Because I’m the only,” Geralt said, voice thick with emotion. “The only one to receive a second dose of mutagens. Well the only one to survive it at least. The mages experimented on others before me, but I was the only one to survive the ordeal.”

“That’s awful, my love. I’m sorry you had to endure that.” He paused. “And I know it won’t make you feel better about it, but it is quite dashing, if I do say so.” Jaskier said, edging closer to Geralt and running his nimble fingers through the soft strands.

“How about I forgo the haircut and we can spend our coin on that nice soap you pretend you don’t like. I’ll wash your hair for you. And then we can braid it. A bit of a change even if you can’t cut it.”

“I’d like that,” Geralt said in a soft voice.

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

The yellow-orange light of the campfire made everything glow. The atmosphere felt far more comfortable than the current situation. But Jaskier was thankful for the light it granted. Jaskier scrambled to dig his scissors out of his pack and make his way back to Geralt, unconscious on the ground, only his thin bedroll under him.

“I’m sorry, my love,” Jaskier whispered through his tears to Geralt’s unconscious form as he took the scissors—considerably duller than he would have liked, he had forgotten to ask Geralt to sharpen them for him recently—and began to cut away Geralt’s silver locks that were stained red by blood and gore matted in them.

Unfortunately, most, if not all, of the blood belonged to Geralt, the gore belonging to the beast he killed, but not before it almost killed him.

Jaskier’s hands were shaking, he had to grip the scissors with both hands, one hand supporting the other. He had to cut Geralt’s hair. He had to. They were in the middle of a forest, in the middle of nowhere. No towns were close enough to travel to with an injured witcher. Not to mention the fact that Geralt had already been running low on potions. They were going to restock on potion ingredients in the next town they visited. But again said town was too far to travel when Geralt was severely injured and Jaskier was only human, and would not make it there and back with help in time.

The gash on the back of his skull was nasty. Jaskier knew that head wounds bled profusely regardless of their severity, but this one was quite bad and even a witcher could die from bleeding out.

He kept whispering apologies to an unconscious Geralt as he cut away, piece by piece, the tangled, matted hair and clumps of monster gore to better see the wound. The bleeding had hardly slowed, and Geralt had also lost blood from a thin slice down his side. At least the bleeding of that wound had slowed and Jaskier had been able to crumple up one of their shirts to put pressure on it and wrap a bandage around it.

The head wound was much more worrying. Once Geralt’s hair was mostly cut away, Jaskier was able to clean the wound with the water from his water skin, some alcohol from a flask as an antiseptic.

It was a rough job, but at least the wound was cleaned and the bleeding finally slowed. From his kneeling position, Jaskier finally sank down onto his heels. He could feel the sticky tear tracks down his cheeks. He ran his hands through his hair, pushing it back from his face. He felt the tackiness of the blood still on his hands.

Geralt’s hair had been covered in blood, only fitting that his was now. Geralt’s blood. It was Geralt’s blood on his hands and he hated it.

Once the adrenaline started to wear off, Jaskier realized his hands were shaking again. Or maybe they had been shaking the whole time. It was still an odd sensation as his hands were always steady. Geralt pointed it out many a time when he had to guide Jaskier through stitching him up over the years.

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

Once Jaskier was done stitching and bandaging, all he could do was wait. Sit and wait for Geralt to wake up. He felt anxious and tired at the same time. Excess energy thrummed through him while his limbs felt heavy like lead.

He looked at his lute, but felt no compulsion to play it. He should probably eat, but any food would probably taste like ash in his mouth.

He laid back on his bedroll and tried to relax. He would be no use to Geralt when he woke up, if he was keyed up and anxious. He sighed and stretched out, his arms pillowed beneath his head as he stared up at the sky.

The stars were bright, twinkling spots of light speckling the inky sky. It made the world feel big, and made him feel small. He was but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. He glanced over at Geralt and felt a smile cross his face. Geralt was more beautiful than all the stars in the sky and twice as bright. The stars were just old light.

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

Jaskier was woken up by Geralt sitting down on the edge of his bedroll. He didn't even remember falling asleep. Geralt was slow to sit down as he leaned against Jaskier’s legs, his injuries taking a toll. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he wanted to know if it was more than usual. Was Geralt human now? Did his witcher healing at least do its part before Jaskier cut his hair?

He was pulled out of his spiral when Geralt spoke. “Your hair’s red.” Geralt said in a slur.

“What?” Jaskier asked, scandalized and afraid. Of course of all things Geralt was focusing on his hair, oh the irony. Jaskier also had the thought that somehow Geralt was seeing the blood in his hair from when he ran his hands through it earlier.

“In the light, looks red,” Geralt mumbled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier sobbed. In the light of the fire—that he somehow managed to keep burning—his hair looked red. He buried his head in his hands, still curled up on his bedroll. He felt his tears plastering his hands to his face. He couldn’t look at Geralt. He couldn’t face his honey-golden eyes, full of softness that betrayed his hard edges.

He essentially killed the man he loved. Maybe that was a bit dramatic. But Geralt is, well was a witcher. Jaskier just took that away from him when he chopped all of his hair off. His beautiful silver hair. Jaskier knew that Geralt was more than his hair, he almost cried when Geralt admitted that he loved when Jaskier told him all the things he loved about him and his hair wasn’t near the top of the list.

Geralt leaned more heavily into Jaskier and sighed. Jaskier removed his hands from his face and looked up at the love of his life, his greatest downfall. He stifled another sob that threatened to come out and looked at Geralt.

“My head hurts.” Geralt said in a small voice that was out of character for him. He sounded so vulnerable.

“You had, well have, a head wound. It was bad. Oh Geralt it was so bad. There was so much blood. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You saved me.”

“But at what cost, my love?”

Geralt didn’t answer his question. He just said, “My hair’s gone isn’t it.”

Jaskier sat up and wrapped his arms around Geralt, situating himself behind him so Geralt was in the vee of his legs, still on Jaskier’s bedroll, Geralt’s abandoned a few feet away.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered wetly into Geralt’s shoulder, lightly trailing his fingers down Geralt’s arm.

“You did good, Jask.”

“Don’t tell me that. How can you say that? I took it. I took your strength. I took it all. I-I, I hurt you.”

“No, the monster hurt me, you saved me.”

“Are you even a witcher anymore? Can you tell? If I took that away from you, I-”

“I never wanted to be a witcher, Jask,” Geralt said as he leaned his head back against Jaskier. He let out a slight hiss of pain and Jaskier felt a hand was squeezing his heart at the sound.

“I’m sorry. I am. But I had to save you. I couldn’t watch you bleed out. It was the only way.”

“You did alright, Jaskier.” He paused. “Wanna see you, help me turn around.”

Jaskier sucked in a breath. He knew he would have to meet Geralt’s eyes eventually. He helped Geralt turn around in his arms and supported most of his weight as he leaned into Jaskier. He looked into Jaskier’s eyes and Jaskier looked back. He looked into those honey-gold eyes and he felt settled. Geralt wasn’t mad. Jaskier took in Geralt’s face. It was clean, Jaskier had made sure of that. And his hair, of course, was short. Silver strands cropped close to his scalp, uneven in a few—well many—places. The bandages wrapped around the crown of his head. He was beautiful.

Geralt kissed Jaskier then. And Jaskier kissed back. Geralt kept kissing him. Soft, gentle kisses. Comforting kisses. They laid down on Jaskier’s bedroll, Jaskier pulling Geralt’s body on top of his own so he could support him, so his head wouldn’t touch the ground. Geralt insisted on kissing him more. He kissed him until the morning light broke through the trees of the forest surrounding them in golden light.

[eunoiaflow3r]

Actions Speak Louder

A/N: the beginning hurt my heart to write lol, but I promise it gets better.

Warning: mistakes, angst, fluff... fem!reader.

Word Count: 2.41k

Request: Can you do a story where the reader x Spencer are in a heated argument and out of anger she slaps him?

Summary: Spencer becomes addicted to Dilaudid, and Y/N does what she can to help him - even if it takes him longer to realize how good she’s been to him.

~~~~~

Things with Spencer have been...rough lately.

It was the little - subtle - changes you noticed in him everyday that just made everything worse for the both of you.

First, it was him coming home later than usual. The usual was already pretty late considering what he did for a living, but lately when he came home, he was at least two hours late. He told you whenever you asked that he was just working later, and you believed him. Why wouldn’t you?

Next came the distance. Even when he was home, he barely spoke to you. Barely even acknowledged your presence. At first you just thought he needed space as one does, but the more it happened, the more you felt like something was wrong. When you asked him, he’d get freaked out, and say something like, “Nothing! Leave me alone.”

And you did.

It was when he started coming home with headaches, nausea, and dizziness that you really began to worry.

“Spencer are you okay? Let me help you.”

“I said I’m fine Y/N! Just give me some space?”

After this, you gave him his space. So much so that you didn’t talk to him unless you spoke to you first - which he barely did. You didn’t cook him dinner, you didn’t check and make sure he had everything ready for work like you usually do, and you didn’t even kiss him goodnight. When he got into bed with you, he didn’t even come close to you which hurt so much that you started sleeping on the couch.

Living like this was tiring, and you didn’t want to live like that anymore. Spencer barely acknowledged your existence, and when he did, he'd say something rude, or just roll his eyes at you.

When and if he was ever home, you spent most of your time in the bedroom because he’d be in the living room or bathroom, doing God-knows-what.

Since you did spend most of your time in the bedroom apart from sleeping, you decided to do a deep clean. You brought in the trash can and recycling ben and recycled all the excess paper and water bottles laying around. You threw away all his candy wrappers, and made sure the bed was made so that he could sleep well whenever he did sleep.

You went to check if anything was under the bed, and as you were reaching your hand wrapped around what felt like a medication bottle.

You brought it out, but there was no label.

Didn’t matter anyway, you recognized it - it was Dilaudid. Thing was, you were sure that Spencer had not been injured recently therefore it had meant that he had gotten them from somewhere, and had been taking them just to take them.

You shook your head painfully. You should have known. You should have realized sooner that he was addicted. How had you not noticed?

His behavior, the sickness...why didn’t it add up?

“What are you doing?” You nearly jumped, and turned around to a scowling Spencer with his arms crossed.

“What are you doing?” You held up the bottle, and his eyes went wide. “You’re a profiler Reid, if you were going to be a pill-popper you should have known to hide it better.”

“Yeah, well, what are you doing going through my stuff anyway? You don’t even sleep in here.”

“Yeah, well, sorry it’s just not comfortable to sleep next to you at the moment.”

He shakes his head, and looks at the bottle in your hands. “Whatever, can I have it back?”

“No Spencer. I think it’s time you stopped.”

“I don’t have time for these games Y/N, give me the bottle back.” He tried to take the bottle from your hands, but you pushed him away. 

“Son of a bitch, just give me the damn bottle Y/N, I need them!”

“You don’t need them Spence -”

“I need them a hell of a lot more than I need you.” He spat spitefully. This made your heart hurt, and you were fighting to hold back tears.

He tried to reach for them again, but you slapped him. Straight across the face. It was so hard and fast, for a second you both had hardly realized what you had done. He held his cheek with one of his hands and stepped away from you.

You didn’t say anything and instead grabbed a backpack from the closet. You put the bottle in, and then as many clothes of yours that could fit. “You may not need me Spencer,” you began, willing your voice not to shake, “but you need help.”

You grabbed a couple of things from your nightstand and shoved it inside the bag.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks, watching you gather some more of your things. 

He followed you into the living room, and watched as you grabbed your jacket from the closet by the door.

“Where are you going?” He asks clearly hurt.

“I’m staying with a friend, you obviously -”

“Oh, so you’re leaving me? Like everyone else in my life, you’re leaving me too?’

You sighed. “I’m not leaving you Spencer. You just need -”

“Stop telling me what I need, you obviously don’t know what the hell I need.” He was upset now.

“That’s right Spencer, I don’t know what you need. But you keep telling me to give you space, so that’s what I’m going to do.” You closed your eyes for a second. “There’s dinner in the fridge. I love you.”

And with that, you left.

_

Spencer was cold. His stomach hurt, and he was tired. How had he let this happen to him? How had he let himself get this way? He promised he would never hurt you, and now he’s scared that that’s exactly what he’s been doing. Hurting you.

Hell, he’s been hurting himself. He knew he shouldn’t have started taking them again but with all the things going on, he was tempted. The only thing going good in his life was you, and now he had fucked that up too.

_

The next day, you paid a little visit to the BAU. You didn’t see Spencer right away, which was a good thing since if you saw him, you’d probably end up crying. When JJ saw you, she got excited and wrapped her arms around you.

“Y/N, where have you been?” 

“Busy.” You smiled. You and her made small talk until you saw Morgan. You promised JJ you would be right back, and went straight to Morgan. 

Morgan was your best friend, and the entire reason you had even met Spencer in the first place.

“Y/N! Hey!” His smile gets wide but dims once he really takes a look at you. “Woah woah woah, what’s the matter?”

You saw Spencer walk by with his head down, and you tried to avoid his eyes, but he had already seen you, and was walking over.

“Y/N?” he said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

You smiled at him but turned to Morgan and asked if you could speak with him privately. Spencer was confused, and wasn’t sure what to do. You were here to see Derek and not him? What were you going to talk to him about?

Morgan pulled you into Garcia’s office and she was beyond ecstatic to see you. After the hugs and catching up, Morgan asked what brought you here, “lookin’ all sad.”

You went into your purse and brought out the bottle of Dilaudid, and handed it to Morgan.

“Is this?” 

You nodded.

“I don’t know if you guys noticed, but he’s been acting -”

“Oh we know.” Penelope exclaimed. “He’s been kind of an asshole lately.”

“I’m not sure what to do. He’s not listening to me, and I don’t - I don’t know how to help him when he’s like this.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Morgan told you. “We’ll get pretty boy back.”

_

Spencer has been going crazy. There were broken glasses on the kitchen floor, dirty clothes strewn everywhere, and couch cushions flipped and thrown across the room. His hair was messy from pulling at his curls, and his eyes were red from crying.

He couldn’t sleep, and he couldn’t eat, and he was shaking. He didn’t know what to do. All he wanted to do was call you, but he wasn’t even sure if you were going to answer him. 

He had a headache, and all he’s been doing these past few days is going to work, and coming home to a dark, dirty, and depressing apartment.

He had had countless panic attacks, and he was driving himself mad.

His team members have all tried to help him, and they've spent time with him, but all he really wanted to see was you.

He found his address book and tried to think about who you might be staying with. He knew it probably wasn’t Morgan because you hated where he lived. He knew it wasn’t any of your sister because she would have called him and told him he was a dick. He thought really hard and finally figured out you were probably with your friend from grade school that you always talked about missing.

He grabbed his car keys not caring how he looked, and drove to Y/F/N’s house.

When he got there he swore for a second that his heart stopped beating. He took a few breaths and knocked on the front door.

You answered.

He noticed that you looked just as bad as he was. This made him feel worse. How could he do this to you?

“Spencer?” You were almost happy to see him. “I thought - well - I thought you needed space?”

He shook his head and tears fell down his face. You wanted to wipe them away, but you weren’t quite sure where the boundaries were at the moment.

“I don’t need space Y/N, that’s never what I needed.” He’s almost sobbing now, and you allow him to walk closer towards you. “I need you. I need you Y/N. That’s all I ever needed.”

This was your Spencer. 

The Spencer yelling at you and ignoring you...that wasn’t him.

The Spencer in front of you now? This is him.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he rests his head on your shoulders, wrapping his arms around your waist - squeezing tightly almost like he was afraid you’d leave.

He cries into your shoulder, and you run your fingers through his tangled hair. “I’m so so sorry Y/N. That wasn’t me Y/N.” he cried, “That wasn’t me. I was a dick, I’m- I’m so so sorry.”

“Shhhh, I know it wasn’t Spence. I know it wasn’t. Let’s go home okay?” He brings his head up and you wipe away his tears, unaware that you had shed a few of your own. “Let’s go home.”

_

The next few days Spencer spent right by your side. He wasn’t letting you go anywhere. You helped him clean the apartment back up, and you made sure he ate and took showers. You made sure he slept, and slowly Spencer went back to how he was before the Dilaudid.

Adorable, dorky, and fun.

You made sure to take him to meetings too. Sometimes Morgan went with you guys too, but you just wanted to remind Spencer that he wasn’t the only one out there dealing with what he was dealing with. You wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone, and that he should be proud of himself for what he has overcome and accomplished.

Still the way he treated you that month tore apart his soul and he made sure that with every breathing, waking moment he was making it up to you. You didn’t deserve that. You’ve always been right there, always by his side, always there for him, and the way he treated you was unacceptable.

_

“I love you Y/N.” He told you one night after he got home from work. You had both had busy days, but he had made sure to always, always make sure he had time for you. “I love you with everything I’ve got.” he kissed your temple. “And everything more.”

~~~~~

feedback appreciated, thanks for reading!!

~~~~~~

[kingreywrites]

Earthbound

Fandom: Tangled

Word Count: 4287

Summary: "That's not funny," Eugene bit out, searching through the shells frantically. "Cass, there has to be- we have to turn her back, now."

(Or an alternate ending to Freebird.)

Read on ao3

Note: Shorty laying an egg in Freebird broke me so this is my attempt to fix it... I hope you’ll like it!

Of all the weird things that had happened to Eugene, getting turned into a bird by evil sorcerers' weird tea that could only be countered by a weird blue egg's magical dust - it certainly took the cake. Even now, as he was struggling against the giant eagle the woman had become, his brain was still trying to process the fact that five minutes ago he had been a bird. With wings.

He should stop thinking too much about it, seriously.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Cassandra go up to the man, sword raised and such a menacing look on her face that he genuinely thought she would kill him. Before he could try to intervene, she struck down and broke the teapot in pieces.

Uh. Actually, that wasn't such a bad idea.

Apparently, the guy was less human than he appeared, because he disappeared with the teapot. Then, the weird eagle lady did too, sending Eugene crashing into Lance's chest - right as the house was dissolving behind them. That was definitely weird, but they had been turned into birds, so what did Eugene know? Surveying the scene, he was happy to see that every bird had been turned back into their human forms, and that everyone seemed relatively okay. With a shudder, he wondered how long exactly had they been stuck here with these crazy people - he was sure glad that they got out of here quite quickly, mostly thanks to Rapunzel and Cassandra, even if it hurt to give the dragon lady credit.

Frowning, Eugene realised that he hadn't heard Rapunzel for a while now. Turning around, he saw that Cassandra was kneeling in front of something, her back to him, but no Rapunzel at her side.

"Cass? Where's Rapunzel?" he asked, turning his head around a little but coming up empty.

Where could she have gone? As much as she loved exploring, he'd guess this place gave her the creeps just as much as it did him after what she just went through. His eyes fell back on Cassandra again, but she hadn't turned around. She had stiffened, obviously having heard him, but she didn't say anything.

"Cassandra?" he asked again, getting closer to her this time, his mind flashing back to her excessive anger as she raised her sword. "Everything's alright? Where's Rapunzel?"

"Eugene…"

It was barely a whisper, but that made him stop in his tracks for a second. Cassandra did not sound like that. Cassandra never sounded crushed or dispirited, especially not when talking to him of all people - Cassandra was confident, she mocked him, and she never showed vulnerability with anyone but Rapunzel, if at all. It was barely a whisper, but that made Eugene cold all over, because there was only one thing that could made her sound like this. He rushed to her and finally saw why she was kneeling.

In her hands, was Rapunzel - still a little yellow bird.

"Shit," he cursed, ignoring how uncomfortable her totally black eyes made him as he kneeled next to Cass, hands hovering uncertainty, "why didn't you say something? We have to turn her back now-"

"You can't," Cassandra said, her voice hollow, "she used the last egg on me."

Eugene scoffed, looking around them with growing panic as he got back up again. It couldn't be true, there had to be- yes, maybe there were only broken shells on the ground but- it couldn't-

"That's not funny," he bit out, searching through the shells frantically. "Cass, there has to be- we have to turn her back, now."

She didn't answer, still looking blankly at Rapunzel, who was chirping in her hands. Eugene swallowed harshly against the dryness of his throat, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

"Cass-"

"It's too late," she interrupted softly, something broken and fragile in her tone as she put Rapunzel down on the ground carefully. "She's already… she's not Rapunzel anymore."

As if to prove her point, Rapunzel chirped again, hoping a little on the ground with her too black and empty eyes.

Eugene saw red. Going straight to Cassandra, who was still kneeling, he seized her collar and lifted her up furiously, his whole body thrumming with anger.

"You mean," he growled, tightening his grip on her collar, "that Rapunzel is stuck as a bird and that you had the bright idea to kill the only fucking people who might have the slightest chance of making the antidote?!"

Cassandra's eyes widened and, for the first time in Eugene's life, he could see tears gathering in her eyes - but he didn't care.

"Why didn't you say something?!" Eugene yelled. "Why didn't you wait? I can't believe how selfish and idiotic-"

Something poked sharply at his hand and he let go of Cassandra by reflex, interrupted in his tirade. In front of him, bird Rapunzel was chirping menacingly, flying to get in front of Cassandra - trying to protect her. Again. Eugene opened his mouth, but no sound came out as he watched her flap her wings quickly. The anger in his chest didn't dissipate, but he slumped, taking a step back as he saw how alarmed Rapunzel seemed to be. She probably didn't understand anything he was saying.

"I'm sorry," he still said softly, "I'm sorry I yelled."

Rapunzel little's head cocked to the side, before she flew slowly in front of his face. She pecked at his hair, and he cringed, before she chirped, sounding happy once again. His hands were trembling a little as he opened them, but she still settled in his palms, chirping again. Her eyes were so wrong Eugene wanted to cry.

"Eugene?" Lance called hesitantly. "We searched everywhere but…"

"There's no more eggs," he finished, definitely feeling his eyes burn now.

In front of his, Cassandra was hugging herself, looking small and defeated. Lance seemed to also want to cry, Hookfoot was grimacing and Shorty, who had gotten here who knows when, just looked drunk. Eugene felt the familiar weight of Pascal climbing up his back, before settling on his shoulder with a sad little squeak.

"No," Eugene exhaled, hating how everyone seemed to be giving up - but he didn't want to raise his voice, didn't want to scare Rapunzel again. What if she flew off? How could he even hope to find her again then? She seemed to trust him, and Cassandra, that had to mean that she was still in here somewhere and Eugene refused to give up on her. This couldn't be the end of their journey. "There has to be something we can do, something-"

"Well," Adira said from behind him, startling him enough that Rapunzel left his hands.

His heart lost a beat but, thankfully, she went to settle on his other shoulder, and he had to use all his will power not to grab her and put her somewhere safe. He had a feeling she wouldn't appreciate him manhandling her.

"Adira," he breathed, something akin to relief in his tone, "please tell me you have an idea on how to get her back."

"Not really," she frowned, stalking closer to him and extending a finger to Rapunzel that she promptly poked curiously. "That wasn't a smart move," Adira sermoned, not even looking at Eugene, "as the Sundrop, you have a responsibility that you should have considered before doing something so… foolish."

"Adira," Eugene pleaded, taking a step back because he did not want her to make Rapunzel fly off, "please. Isn't there… something? I'd be ready to do anything to get her back."

"I don't doubt it, Fishskin. But I truly have no idea of what was in those eggs. However," Adira added, just as he felt like his heart would break, "I do know a place where someone could know something about it."

"Where?" Eugene asked darkly, doing everything in his power to keep his anger at bay - Adira should really know better than to play with his emotions when Rapunzel was the one in danger.

"The Spire. It's a ten days trip, but the Keeper of the Spire has an unmatched knowledge of magical artefacts. It may be your only hope to get the Sundrop back," Adira sighed.

"We'll make it in half that time," Cassandra announced before Eugene could try and find an answer.

She threw him an unsure look, before glancing at Rapunzel and squaring her shoulders, nothing of the despondent and desperate woman she was minutes earlier. She went to Eugene's side, staring at Adira with fire in her eyes.

"Yeah!" Lance exclaimed, going to Eugene's other side. "We'll go to the Spire thing, and save the Princess!"

Rapunzel chirped joyfully, flying a little in front of Adira's face, before landing once again in Eugene's open hands. Her eyes were still wrong, too black and too empty for the woman he loved. Rapunzel was smart, she was kind, she was playful, she was… so much more than that. But now, Eugene had hope to bring her back and, as terrified as he felt, he wouldn't back down - he had to save her.

With steal in his eyes, he raised his head and met Adira's half smile.

"Let's go save Rapunzel."

------

Four days later, they were nearly at the Spire - Max and Fidella gave their everything to make them go as fast as possible. They tried to stay positive, because even if Rapunzel didn't seem to be able to think, not only she kind of recognize them (enough to trust them, in any case), but also the people they turned back into people had recovered their mind in the end. They had to hope this was temporary.

Carefully, Eugene pushed the door of the caravan open and entered as quickly as he could, before closing it again. He had only left Rapunzel and Pascal alone because there was a problem with one of the wheel - again - but frankly, he felt more and more paranoid about open doors and windows. Rapunzel seemed to trust them and followed them around, but what if she stopped? What if she flew off and got lost or, worse, didn't want to come back? Eugene couldn't risk it. He also didn't have the heart to attach her to something, or cage her, and had glared so hard at Lance when he suggested it that he was surprised his friend didn't catch fire.

Rapunzel never deserved to be kept prisoner.

Eugene already felt bad enough about leaving her inside the caravan most of the time, and only letting her out under constant surveillance. Who knew what these woods held for a tiny fragile bird like her? He couldn't let her be hurt. Which is why he felt like his heart stopped when he saw that she wasn't on the table where he left her.

"Rapunzel?" he called, trying to keep his voice gentle despite his panic. "Pascal?"

Thankfully, Pascal squeaked something from near the ceiling, and Eugene sighed, feeling like he could breathe again. Rapunzel was flying here, circling the ray of sunshine the trap door to the roof let through, and Pascal was watching her, never leaving her side as Eugene asked. The sight was painful.

Bottling his emotions down, Eugene climbed on the table.

"Hey Sunshine," he said softly, extending his open hand to her, "can you come here?"

She chirped, going around the light one last time before fluttering above his hand. He smiled, because he knew that deep down, she recognised him, and she finally landed. With his other hand, he gently petted the top of her head, drawing another chirp from her. Pascal made a noise, and went to hide in one of Eugene's pockets - the situation was hard on the little guy too.

"I'm sorry you can't go outside," Eugene apologised genuinely, and Rapunzel cocked her head to both sides, before jumping twice on his palm as he got down from the table and sat down. "I truly am," he added, "but it would be dangerous. You just have to wait until we get to the Spire, and everything will be okay."

He hoped it would, in any case. He really didn't want to think about what would happen, if this Keeper of the Spire guy couldn't help them.

He put Rapunzel down on the table, and she hopped to her little branch creations. Eugene didn't know what, exactly, she was trying to represent, but she was enjoying herself at least. There also were some seeds and water on her left, but she didn't seem in the mood to eat or drink - which would start to be a problem if she hadn't changed her mind this evening, but he tried not to be too much on her case. Maybe she had a bird brain, but she was still smart enough to sense when he was being annoying, and made him aware of her displeasure with vicious pecks on his skin.

(Honestly, at this point, the fact that she had enough personality to do that was a welcome sight for Eugene, so he didn't even complain and backed off when needed.)

Morosely, Rapunzel moved around one or two sticks, before looking back up at the trap door. Pascal went to join her, and tried to entertain her with the sticks, but she always had a one-track mind when she had an idea.

"You'll get to go out, I promise," Eugene smiled sadly, pushing a stick in her direction. As for anything artistic, he was way worse at stacking them beautifully than she was, but he still tried. "I know it feels stifling, but I swear that it'll be okay, in the end."

He hoped he was telling the truth. Even now, as he was trying to convince this little bird that was somehow the light of his life that he was right, he cringed at the reasons justifying his actions in his head. It's for your own good? It's dangerous outside? I want us to stay together? Wow, very Gothel of you Fitzherbert. He knew it wasn't the same, but it still felt awful - he never ever wanted to make Rapunzel feel caged. He hated to be in this position. He hated that she put him in this position.

"You know," he said, not changing his tone as he watched Rapunzel play with the sticks, "I'm angry at you. It doesn't happen often but this… Sunshine, I am so furious."

He sighed, putting his palms over his eyes as he slumped over the table. Something touched his hands, and he thought it was Pascal, but when he opened his eyes, Rapunzel was looking curiously at him with her too big and too shiny eyes. She poked his nose gently and he felt tears gather in his eyes, but he blinked them out.

"I love you, you know I do, but this was reckless," he whispered as she chirped. "And I know you wanted to save Cass, but did you stop to think about what she would feel? What your parents would feel? Did you think- Did you think about me?"

Of course, she didn't answer, but she was still looking right at him. He sighed again, and softly stroked the feathers under her beak - she liked when he did that. Sure enough, she tweeted happily, and Eugene couldn't help but smile. He was mad at her, but it was a very secondary emotion to the overwhelming fear he felt, and all of that was powered by the love he had for her. Bird or not, Rapunzel was his everything - he only wished she could be back to herself.

A knock on the door startled him, and Rapunzel flew back a little, landing on Pascal's head.

"Eugene?" Lance called. "We're here, but we're gonna have to leave the caravan behind, the road is too narrow."

"Hear that Blondie?" Eugene said, extending his hand toward her, before putting her on his shoulder. "Time to go outside."

They had a Princess to save.

------

The only thing that kept Eugene from shaking Calliope over a cliff was that it would disturb Rapunzel. He had been terrified that she would try to fly off but, so far, she had stayed put on his shoulder and enjoyed the view from here, and he did not want to try his luck. Calliope was, however, annoying enough that it was a hard commitment to honour.

"Listen," he interrupted when she went on another tangent about latin or what not, "all I wanna know is if you have any idea on how to turn her back into a human being. Please," he added, hoping that she wouldn't take offense, "it's very important."

"Hmm." Calliope dragged out the sound, and from where he was, Eugene could hear Cassandra's teeth grinding together. "There is something that could do it."

"Really?" Lance exclaimed excitedly.

"I did say it, didn't I?" Calliope snarked, pushing her glasses back on her nose. "There is something in the vault of the Spire called the Effaceur de Sort, which means-"

"Spell Remover, yes, but are you sure it will work?" Eugene insisted.

Calliope froze, thrown off in her explanation as she watched Eugene more closely.

"You speak French? Well, finally someone of culture here, though I imagine you do not know about the intricacies of the-"

"Calliope, will this Spell Remover-

"- Effaceur de Sort-"

"- will it work, or not?"

She nodded confidently, and started to explain its different properties in her usual haughty tone. Eugene didn't care much except for the fact that she told them it would get rid of external magical interventions "of a devious nature", an important point that was apparently linked to the origins of the French word "sort" - but it was important to Eugene because it also meant it wouldn't mess with the sundrop. He didn't know how Rapunzel's body would react otherwise, so he was glad he didn't have to worry about it.

Unfocused as he was on the situation, he was as surprised as everyone when, suddenly, Rapunzel flew right into Calliope's face to bite her. The red-head screamed, batting her hands, and Eugene reacted immediately by grabbing Rapunzel and taking her away from these flapping arms.

"Are you crazy? You could have hurt her!"

"She hurt me first!" Calliope yelled indignantly.

Rapunzel trilled loudly, agitated, trying to go for Calliope's face again as Eugene tried very hard to restrain her gently. Thankfully for both of them, the Keeper of the Spire didn't seem inclined to test her luck against an irate Rapunzel, and went to hide behind Cassandra, of all people. Which was enough for Eugene to try and calm Rapunzel down, unsure of what had actually spooked her. As he stroked her feathers gently, he noticed how she bristled when she looked at Calliope.

"Are you… Annoyed?" he asked, and her chirp sounded so much like a yes that he laughed. "Okay, well I know it's not an usual emotion for you, but try not to bite the person that can help us, alright?"

Rapunzel cocked her head, and he frowned at her until she extended her wings without taking of, as if she was shrugging - he took it as a yes.

Though, it proved hard for Rapunzel to actually remember her promises, her emotions being nearly the only thing guiding her actions as a bird. Eugene had to pry her off Calliope at least five time as they tried to get to the Spire, and one time she was the one pecking at him to not just kill this annoying little woman who had gotten them lost.

Then, they got attacked by a Kurlock, which apparently meant blood red killer bear with horns and, at one point, when it nearly took a bite of Eugene, Rapunzel managed to distract it by throwing leaves at him. Which then inspired Calliope to distract it with her magic tricks and, finally, they sent it tumbling down into the poison elm.

"Yes!" Eugene cheered, pumping his fist in the air. "You were incredible Blon- Blondie?"

Cold washed over him as he realised that Rapunzel wasn't with him anymore. A panicked glance to the others told him that no one knew where she went, and Eugene didn't feel like he could breathe anymore. Above his head, the open sky seemed suddenly infinite, stretching far beyond what he could see, and Rapunzel could be anywhere. He called her name, rushing frantically to the places they had been, hoping to catch a chip or a flash of yellow, but nothing. He was such an idiot, he berated himself, he had gotten too confident, like always, thinking that she was conscious enough to not fly off when she was a bird. It was his responsibility to keep her safe, and he failed.

"Rapunzel!" he yelled, his voice echoing sharply even when the others were calling for her too. "Rapunzel, please!"

He worried that he wouldn't hear her response over the blood rushing in his ears, anxiety thrumming through his blood. It felt like something was squeezing his heart, tighter and tighter as the time passed and Rapunzel didn't appear - if he never found her again, he knew it would burst at some point. He- he couldn't-

"Please," he whispered, knowing that she wouldn't hear him and that, even if she did, she wouldn't understand what he was asking of her. She was a bird. The one time when she really did need him to take care of her, and he failed because he desperately wanted her to be there with him and to understand. He should have known better, should have kept a closer eye on her, because now who knew where she might-

A bird chirped in front of him.

With a start, Eugene raised his head and there she was, waiting in front of the Spire's door, flapping her wings gently as she floated above the handle. Relief nearly knocked Eugene off his feet and he ran toward her, extending his hands before him.

"Oh Sunshine," he laughed, his eyes wet and his voice dripping emotions as she gently landed in his palms, as she always did. "Please, please, please never do that again, alright?"

She chirped again, and he closed his hands a little more, feeling her little chest rising and falling with each of her breaths as he put her closer to his cheek. She pecked at him gently and he laughed again, feeling a little hysterical in his happiness. She was here and she was fine - he had reasons to be overjoyed.

"Come on, we're not going to stay there forever," Calliope said, as if miss not the real Keeper of the Spire wasn't the reason for most of the held-up. Thankfully, Eugene was holding Rapunzel - she looked ready to attack once again.

They went inside, and Calliope went to search for the Spell Remover - Effaceur de Sort, whatever - and came back with…

"A hat?" Eugene said indignantly, at the same time Cassandra finally had enough and reached for her sword.

"This is the Effaceur de Sort," Calliope insisted nervously, "you just put it on her head and pfiou, it's gone! Look!"

Rapunzel squeaked and went to hide in Eugene's hair as the red head got closer. With a frown, he took the hat out of her hands and gently coaxed Rapunzel down in his other hand.

"It's okay Sunshine," he soothed, hating how nervous she seemed. Even the eyes that he had hated so much in the beginning didn't seem to be as empty as he thought - she was still Rapunzel, still sentient beneath all of this, and she deserved to not be afraid. "Don't you want to take that chance?"

She cocked her head like she did so many times, and one part of Eugene's mind told him that his life had gotten pretty crazy, since he was having a conversation with a bird. Worse, he thought he understood something - but hey, he had always been the best at reading Rapunzel. Plus, he was friend with a horse and a frog, that was only the next step.

Rapunzel hopped down and watched him, so he hoped it meant she was ready. He put the too big hat over her, completely covering her body, before taking a step back to watch. He waited. And waited.

"Is this norm-"

A sudden flash of light, accompanied by a burst of wind interrupted him and, as easy as that, Rapunzel was standing in front of him with a ridiculous hat on her head. She looked disoriented, but she raised her head and her eyes were green and full of life like they hadn't been in days.

Eugene ran up to her and hugged her hard enough to make her feet leave the ground for a moment, jostling the hat out of her head despite Calliope's cries to be careful. It took a moment but she squeezed back, trembling all over as she tried to get used to her human body again. Then, Cass joined the hug and Lance did too, all four of them too close for it to be comfortable, but Eugene wouldn't trade it for anything at all.

"Guys," Rapunzel said, her voice wobbly and unsure.

"Don't ever do that again," Eugene whispered harshly, something like tears in his eyes as Pascal chirped his approval. He couldn't close his eyes - couldn't let her get out of his sight for even a second, all of this feeling unreal. He was still so mad at her, and he knew they needed to have a serious discussion about what happened - but for now, with her in his arms being solid and alive and here, he could only feel relieved.

"I love you so much," he whispered, and she tightened her grip in response.

[snowbellewells]

CSSNS: “A Cottage by the Sea” /// Part Four

I’m terribly sorry once again for the delay, but I can see the end in sight on this on now, and I have a good vision for where the rest of this story is going. I hope you will enjoy some of the happy developments in this installment, and (as always) I’d love to hear what you think!

~***~ Excessive thanks and flails once more to @searchingwardrobes​ for this lovely cover art! ~***~

Summary: Princess Emma has always been drawn to the shores of Misthaven, where the sea meets the shore near her parents’ castle. When an unknown boy washes up on the sand, with eyes as fathomless and blue as the waters that brought him to her, he soon becomes Emma’s best friend, her partner in crime, and her other half.  But the tides give and the tides take away, and as her blue-eyed boy sails in her father’s navy and risks all in defense of those who made him family, unexpected danger and challenge will try to tear them apart, and might well show him just where he came from that day he first appeared to her from the sea…

Previous installments, from the beginning, on TUMBLR and on AO3

Part Four

Princess Emma had not been alone at sea for long when self-doubt and questions began to gnaw at her confidence and left her wondering if she should really have set out on her own. She was keeping the small vessel afloat and on course (she couldn’t wait to show Killian she really had been listening to his scattered lessons in their moments alone, even if she had been trying to steal glancing touches and quick glimpses at his unknowing features at the same time), but all the same, once the sun was overhead, beating down hot and unmercifully and she could see only unbroken ocean as far as the horizon in any direction, some of her fearless resolve left her. Why had she not tried to convince or bribe someone who knew more about navigation to come along? What if she were sailing further away from her beloved, instead of closer to him? How would she even get them back if she did locate Killian? What if he were hurt and she didn’t know how to help? She should have brought a healer!

The plaguing worries circled round and round, wreathing her head like a swarm of gnats, and Emma was unable to bat them away. Though she felt the gentle rhythm of the waves beneath her small craft, and knew that they were moving, there was no sign that she was closer to land - or any living thing at all. If she hadn’t been so desperate, so swept up in her emotions and determined recklessness, she would have brought more food and fresh drinking water than the couple of jugs and the bread and cheese she had grabbed. She could be out here for days or weeks, unable to find her way back - or to locate where Killian might be.

By the time the sun had fully risen, and she was well out of sight of Misthaven’s shore, and any other in any direction, Emma had worked herself into enough of a state that the adrenaline which had propelled her down the side of the castle walls, to the docks, and out to sea, was flagging in earnest and she sunk to the rough planks of her vessel, finally feeling the need for rest which had completely eluded her all the previous night. Despite that, she fought valiantly to keep her eyes open and to stay alert. She was sure she couldn’t even imagine all the danger she might face if she didn’t remain on her guard. Still, as time crawled forward, the steady rise and fall of the calm waters served to nearly rock her gently closer to slumber, her eyelids continually growing more and more weighted, until they fell closed and she leaned against the boat’s side in a doze.

For some time, the princess was lost to her surroundings, regaining the peace she had lost upon the moment she learned Killian was missing. But, ever-so-slowly, then gaining speed and clarity, images began to swirl in her mind’s eye, even as she slept. At first there were only blurs of color and flashes of hazy light, then the pictures playing in her head sharpened, allowing her to focus and understand.

Stirring fitfully, Emma began to wake, brought back to awareness by her effort to take in the vision as it came to her. When she clearly saw Killian, his dearly beloved face caught at her breath and caused her to shoot upright in excitement, she was fully roused once more. It seemed she was receiving some message - both not to give up as he still lived, just as her heart had known, and also as some guide to where he might be.

This Killian in her mind’s eye looked distinctly more bedraggled than she had ever seen him willing to appear in his uniform before - the material ripped and stained, and his hair half-dried and standing up in salt-clumped tufts. He walked along a beach strewn at intervals with pieces of what Emma knew must be his ship, and inwardly she cringed, knowing it would pain him to see it destroyed, and also at the thought of all the other lives which must be utterly lost as they had believed. Killian seemd completely alone in his surroundings. 

Emma noticed that the image before her was beginning to go hazy about the edges and fade, but she clung to it for every second she could, drinking in the view of him in a way she had never seen her straight-laced lieutenant before. A traitorous blush colored her cheeks as her eyes trailed along his bared collarbone from where he had removed his uniform jacket, and she itched to run her fingers along his forearms and feel the muscles she hadn’t been able to look at before on display from his rolled-up sleeves. She was almost ashamed to admit the way she was feasting on the view of his chest and the dark hair smattered generously across it. Emma had never seen his shirt fully opened like that since they had entered young adulthood; Killian was much too considerate of her station and sensibilities, plus self-conscious as well, to show off so much skin in her presence. Still, Emma could not seem to pull her gaze away, her palms sweating with the heat as she even imagined touching those unexplored planes of her sailor’s body.

When the image before her faded and re-formed, returning to her again in a slightly different setting, his reappearance nearly bowled her over. Killian wore no shirt at all; all tanned skin over strapping shoulders and darkly furred chest narrowing down to a trim waist. Though stained with dirt and sand, and ripped in places, Killian still wore the breeches and boots of his uniform as he fought his way through what looked like a jungle of island vegetation. Sweat trickled down his brow, and Emma wished desperately to be there at his side to wipe it away for him, to venture forward shoulder-to-shoulder toward whatever he was seeking.

Abruptly, he reached the end of the thick trees and undergrowth he had been fighting his way through, stumbling out of the dense tangle of leaves and vine into a large, quiet clearing, housing a calm, turquoise pool, green grass and a large rock near the water’s edge. It was a tranquil little oasis after the terrain Killian had just left behind, and Emma found herself wondering again just where this could be and how she might reach him there. In her vision, Killian hurried forward to the water’s edge, bringing hands up to splash his overheated face and neck then drinking greedily from his cupped hands as well.

As much as she wanted to linger there with him - in her mind, at least, if not in actual reality - this scene too began to disintegrate and vanish before Emma was ready. She strained her eyes to see him even a few seconds longer, or in hopes of another scene appearing, but soon all she could see was unending ocean and sky all around her once more. Rousing fully from the sort of trance she had entered at the vision’s arrival, Emma found that one thing did remain in the forefront of her awareness - as cearly and definitely as if it had been spelled out across her retinas. ‘Ogygia,’ a quiet, melodious voice seemed to whisper impossibly in her ear, ‘You may find him on Ogygia.’

Princess Emma’s brow furrowed, recognizing the name, but confused by the implication. She had studied folklore, legends, and mythology in her schooling - quite avidly in fact.  It was was one of the few subjects that genuinely interested her, memory and understanding coming easily, and she remembered the place. But, Calypso’s island? It was real? And how was she to find it?

Even as she wondered this, the same voice which had whispered the name into her consciousness now spoke again, offering Emma direction she wordlessly followed, plotting her course as this unknown entity directed. Indeed, such impulsive trust might be folly. She might live to regret listening to the siren song that led her forward - if she lived at all and was not lost upon the rising waves. All the same, she had no other directions to follow, no other way of knowing how to seek her missing love, and, for good or ill, she sensed this being speaking to her so sweetly and with such gentle care, meant her no harm.

She carried on the way she had chosen; better to take action and face the resulting consequences than to simply bob along the surface indefinitely until hunger, thirst or exposure took her while she waited. That would do Killian no good, wherever this island was that he had landed upon, and it would bring her no closer to him. These efforts at steering in a fixed direction might. Keeping her gaze ever forward, searching the horizon hopefully as the surface glittered at the noonday touch of the blazing sun as though strewn by diamonds, Emma forced herself to calmly follow through, to listen and obey the continued calm voice, which now felt as though it lodged within her own chest, at home, a thrumming part of her, and welcome as such.

Though she knew thirst and exhaustion, and the heat that began to weigh on her head and shoulders like a heavy cloak, made the time seem longer, she still felt the strain. It seemed as though hours had passed when finally, at the furthest reach of her sight, Emma thought she could make out a piece of land, rising like a beautiful mirage from the ocean stretched before her. Blinking, she leaned forward, even as she slumped with relief against her vessel’s wooden side, praying she was not mistaken. 

‘No, my dear,’ the soothing voice assured her, a subtle breath of cool air accompanying it as though the phantom blew by her ear on enchanted wings. ‘You’ve done it, Princess. Ogygia is straight ahead now.’

And with that, the mysterious presence which had served as her guiding companion was gone. As suddenly as it had appeared, Emma also knew in an instant it was with her no longer. 

Grateful all the same, she didn’t have it in her to be troubled. As this new shore drew ever closer, she felt a burst of endurance. She had no doubt now; she was about to look upon her sailor’s face again.

~~***~~

Killian, meanwhile, had been far from idle since his reunion with his mother, his purging of his grief and loss, and the long talk and reacquaintance they’d had after. When she had left him, Calypso (It was still nigh impossible to fathom (the goddess Calypso - his mother!) had vowed to return that evening so they could speak further, and he had made his way back to the beach where he’d washed ashore.

Though admittedly, Killian no longer felt as shaken, alone, or desperate as he had when first awaking on the strange spit of land, seemingly its own little world in the surrounding deep, he still intended to make his way back to his adopted home and kingdom. Not only was it his duty as a lieutenant of the Royal Navy, but he was the only surviving member of his ill-fated crew. How else could Misthaven’s royals and his fellow sailors’ loved ones know what had befallen them and pay their sacrificial struggle due homage? Beyond the demands of his honor, however, Killian also knew that his adopted family - monarchs though they might be and unworthy as he had always somewhat felt himself - would be grieving him along with his lost ship and comrades. And Emma… though he had long marveled at how it could be true, she loved him. He could see the depth of her feelings in her eyes as soon as she had confessed it at his departure. Perhaps it had always been there - even as they had played tag and crawled under the hedge to hide huddled together in the Royal Gardens, as they had curried their ponies after a ride and sloshed buckets of cold water at each other before they helped in the animals’ bathing, when they had watched Granny at her baking in the kitchens and Emma had nicked bits of chocolate or minced dates and offered him part of her prize with a gleam in her lively green gaze. He knew she would be mourning; her heartbreak on his account was nearly unbearable to consider. He knew that were he in her place, and he believed her lost, there would be no recovery. And that knowledge lent urgency to his actions.

Upon returning to the sandy shoreline, it had taken no time at all to salvage various wooden pieces and parts of the ship that he began to stack in a pile. Always able to make do resourcefully, Killian used shoots and vines in the surrounding vegetation to begin binding the boards together as he needed - working swiftly. It wasn’t long until he had fashioned a sturdy raft with a reasonably straight mainsail near the water’s edge. It was certainly no vessel like the one which had been lost to the stormy deep when he had landed on this beach, but he was both determined and impatient enough to take his chances. He also knew enough of the sea and of sailing to recognize that the tempest which had sunk Misthaven’s finest ship had been unnaturally malevolent - as if summoned with evil intent for their specific destruction. The strength and size of the ship in a gale such as that would have made no difference, and if one blew again as he attempted to find his way home, he would be every bit as lost, regardless of his craft. All things remaining as they should though, his makeshift vessel ought to prove seaworthy, despite not being much to look at.

As Killian had focused on his task, the time had slipped away almost without his notice. He obviously would never have left his mother after finding her again without speaking to her more and saying goodbye, but at the same time, he was anxious to be starting, to reach his princess’ side once more. So, when he fastened the last slat of wood in place, tying off the knot as securely as he possibly could, and stood to mop his brow, Killian was rather surprised to realize that the bright sun had slipped toward evening and he had not even started on his way back toward the lagoon where he had met Calypso that morning.

Just as he was wondering how to make his way there with the most haste, he felt the brush of a light breeze and sensed her presence nearby. He would have guessed that she needed to stay within water, but clearly that was not a requirement, as soon, soft, gentle fingers brushed over his shoulder like a refreshing trickle of cool water, and his mother appeared, unassumingly human, beside him.

“You’re leaving me, aren’t you?” she murmured lightly, a tinge of melancholy in her sweetly hypnotic voice, but no judgement or condemnation, only the regret of one soon to be separated from her child.

Killian bobbed the briefest of stiff nods before turning his head to face her, reaching to take her hand in his own and press it tightly, only hoping he could make her understand. “I’m sorry, but… I must,” he replied huskily.

The unearthly grace bestowed her by her nature shone through in the benevolent smile she offered him, leaning in to brush a kiss upon his forehead, just as if he were still a little boy, a gesture barely remembered but immediately soothing. Her elegant fingertips caressed the faded scar running high across his cheekbone, as if having not been there to patch it when it happened, she wished to take it from him. “You love her,” she answered simply, “the Princess. And since you do, of course you wish to return to her.”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed, “I do.” He was grateful that she seemed to grasp his dilemma and did not blame him or begrudge him the choice he had to make. “And she loves me as well, wonder of wonders. I have no claim to court a Princess, but while she wants me, I will not fail her.”

“That is as it should be, my son,” Calypso assured, pulling him close to hug him once more to her chest. “But bear in mind that you are more worthy than you know - a sort of royalty in your own way…” She winked as she pulled back again to look him in the eyes with a mischeivous twinkle in her own. “You have never failed to be a man of honor, just as I would have wanted, just as your dear brother did all he knew to teach you, and so I knew you would desire to do no less. In fact, if you look out into the distance, you will see I have helped someone along on her way to you, making your raft rather unnecessary.”

Lightly placing her hands on his shoulders, his mother turned him to face out on the waves, where just at the horizon, he could see the sails of an oncoming ship appear. Still quite far out, it sailed closer with each passing moment - almost as if granted unnatural speed - but his heart genuinely leapt when the waning light caught the glint of gold atop the head of the form he could now see at the vessel’s wheel. Emma!

“Is that…?” he asked, gawking and struggling to believe it could be so. “Did you bring her?... But how…?” His curiosity and awe made the words trip over each other, but the grin that broke across his face unawares told Calypso all she needed to know.

Smiling back at her little boy, now a man grown, the sea nymph nodded sagely. “She was already on the water; I merely granted her eyes to see the way forward. This place is generally cloaked from outside discovery, to keep out Davy and his minions. But clearly, your Princess - this Emma of Misthaven - is bold and true and every bit as in love with you as you are her.”

Killian felt the warmth flooding his cheeks even beneath the growth of unshaven stubble as he dipped his head in slight embarrassment. Though it felt wonderful to hear confirmation from another of the glorious truth he had only very lately begun to accept, it was also a bit daunting to see that his feelings were so crystal clear, even to one he had just met. When he glanced back again, he could only smile at his mother, beaming from the joy in his heart at seeing his princess again and knowing she had not given in to despair. “Thank you,” he managed to croak through a throat tightly closing. “Truly. For saving me… and then for bringing her safely.”

As if allowing herself one last precious caress, Calypso brought her cooling hand to glide along her son’s forehead and brush aside the dark fringe of his hair. “You are most welcome, my love.” Her understanding smile barely wavered as she added quietly. “Now, go to her, as I know you wish to do.”

Killian caught his mother’s hand where it had come to rest at the side of his face, turning his head to kiss the center of her palm, squeezing it tightly in gratitude. Then, he gave her a bright, crooked smile before turning to dash down to the water’s edge, where Misthaven’s princess and her pilfered boat were drawing near.

~~***~~

Calypso lingered, looking on fondly as her son dashed into the tide when the boat reached the shallows. Despite the twinge in her own chest at the brief reunion she had been allowed drawing to a close, an indulgent smile still curved her full lips at how eagerly the Princess leaned over her little ship’s prow, trying to reach Killian sooner. She looked ready to dive in and swim to him if it would get her there faster.

Killian meanwhile had splashed into the gentle swells, nearly reaching the tiny craft where it bobbed on the waves. Water kicked up all around him, soaking his weathered clothing and flattening his hair to his skull, but none of that dampened his thrilled exuberance in the slightest. He was waist-deep when, lungeing forward, he caught the side of Emma’s boat, hauling it forward on the next rise, and then Emma was catapaulting over the edge and into his arms with a cry of delight that couldn’t help but warm the watching sea nymph’s weary soul.

Yes, all was as it should be again. Seeing the two reunited made their belonging to each other undeniable. Somehow, even in the ebb and flow around them, Killian kept his feet - barely - as Emma wrapped herself around him tightly, her hair whipping hin the breeze and hiding their faces behind its curtain as they placed frantic kisses all across each other’s cheeks and noses, and her royal gown trailed unheeded behind her in the water. Their lips broke from each other’s only to laugh in stunned joy and exclaim fragmented greetings, their voices overlapping each other front he soft echoes of the sound Calyps could catch on the wind from where she stood.

Joining hands, they began to tow the boat in the rest of the way to shore, each of their free hands holding to a side. However, about the time the water was only lapping at their calves, a larger swell swept up behind them, sending the boat knocking into them with force, and both Killian and Emma tumbling headlong into the water. 

Coming up spluttering and laughing harder, they merely caught their tiny craft once more as it bobbed nearby, and carried on cavorting and splashing each other with more quick kisses and caresses stolen in youthful bliss at being together again. And in some ways, in that moment they were more free together than ever before; free of conventions, rules, propriety and disapproving stares. It was then, with that lovely, bone-deep happiness to remember on his face, that Calypso slipped away as well, leaving them to their well-earned privacy and celebration, darting and playing in the sand and foam.

She could give them this moment in her protected haven; wished truly that they could stay forever with her. But they could not remain hidden on Ogygia indefinitely; both had a destiny to fulfill back in Misthaven and too much sense of their duty to shirk it. The goddess could only hope fervently that their worst trial was now behind them - even if her better judgement warned her that Davy Jones would not yet be ready to admit that his second son had escaped his grasp.

Tagging: @cssns​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @searchingwardrobes​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @laschatzi​ @spartanguard​ @therooksshiningknight​ @tornadoamy​ @xhookswenchx​ @stahlop​ @lfh1226-linda​ @tiganasummertree​ @optomisticgirl​ @thislassishooked​ @donteattheappleshook​ @revanmeetra87​ @teamhook​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @ineffablecolors​ @let-it-raines​ @drowned-dreamer​ @kday426​ @carpedzem​ @mayquita​ @shireness-says​ @snidgetsafan​ @xsajx​

[skzss]

Walk with me

Member: Any? Written with Lee Minho in mind but it’s never specified so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ x reader

Warnings: Car crashes, death, slight claustrophobia, slight nyctophobia (fear of darkness)

Genre: Angst

Word count: 1997

Description: You don’t know at all what happens after death but at least there’s someone there to guide you.

Author’s notes: I had an existential crisis thinking about my life and what it would mean if I died right now and then I got to thinking about how reapers are much kinder than we think they are. After all, they guide us through to the other side, wherever that is, so we’re never alone. 

You knew this day was coming. 

After all, everyone dies someday. Some go easier than others but everyone goes someday. 

You had hoped, in vain, that you would die a little softer and a little gentler than you did. But you don’t get to choose these things. You remember screaming, hearing squealing wheels and smelling burning leather. You remember feeling very hot then very cold. You remember flashing lights before your consciousness dripped away. 

“Hey.” You feel someone shaking you. “Wake up already.” 

Huh? Aren’t you supposed to be dead? That car hit right against your passenger side door, there’s no way you’re not dead right? You crack open an eye and it’s dark. Definitely not the hospital then because those places are always the worst sort of fluorescent yellow light. It doesn’t smell like any kind of hospital either. The air is rich with decay and you wrinkle your nose at it. The voice you heard scoffs, mutters a “typical human”. You look up and you blink, once, twice. 

A hooded figure towers over you. A reaper holding a stereotypical scythe, though this one seems impatient. They nudge you again with their foot, sighing. “Not very fast are you.” 

“I just died, can’t you give me some slack?!” You grumble as you sit up, surveying your surroundings. You don’t see the crash anymore, or your body, though that’s for the better. You might be mangled up by now and you definitely don’t want to see that. 

“No, I’ve got other souls to see too. Let’s go.” The figure doesn’t even bother offering you a hand, instead immediately striding off. You scramble to your feet and dart to their side. It’s much too dark for you to find your way without them. Way to where you’re not even sure but you sure as hell don’t want to be left behind here. They set a breakneck pace and you struggle a bit to keep up. Even if you’re a spirit now, a soul or whatever, you still aren’t very fast. Apparently your dead lungs still transmit signals to your dead brain to slow down. You couldn’t exactly wheeze but your ghost got as close to that as possible. Sparing you a glance, the reaper slows down marginally and you manage to catch up. 

“So,” you huff, “where am I going?” You weren’t a bad person. You weren’t necessarily good either. Everyday, you just lived your life, with some care for the world around you and some care for yourself. Whenever you could you’d use recycled materials or avoid printing excess pages, but you didn’t stop using plastic entirely or give up your air conditioner either. The best you could hope for was probably something akin to purgatory, where you’d be neither heralded nor hurt. 

“You’ll see,” they say. You frown. First of all, cryptic as fuck. Secondly, why do they sound so annoyed? If anything, shouldn’t you be annoyed at dying? You grumble under your breath but they don’t seem to care at all. 

For a while it’s quiet. There’s no sounds, even from your plodding footsteps. You don’t feel any  more tired than you did when you first started. Perhaps you could walk infinity without feeling tired. The figure next to you glides along, ever forward without taking any turns. Though could they even take turns in this vast, endless darkness? 

Your mind wanders back to your life, or rather who’s left alive. You hope someone will take care of your cat. She does get rather hissy when she isn’t fed on time. Someone will probably tell your parents. Your heart clenches. Your mom will probably collapse on the spot in shock while your dad silently holds her, hands gripped tight around her arms. They’ll ask to see your body maybe. They’ll definitely cry. You send a quiet apology for dying so soon. Your friends, they’ll know too sooner or later. You apologize to them too even though they’ll never hear. Hopefully they’ll divide your belongings among themselves without too much fuss. Your mom will want some of it but the vast majority of your stuff will go somewhere else. 

“Will you stop,” a voice snarls. You snap your head up to look at the figure who’s gripping their scythe so tight it’s turning their knuckles white. Now that you’re looking at them properly, they kind of look like a regular person. You can’t see under the hood exactly but their hand isn’t skeletal at all. Their fingers twitch on the pole. “You’re thinking too loud.” 

You stop. “You can hear that?” 

They groan and stop as well, a few feet ahead of you. “Sort of. It’s not the exact thought if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Your face scrunches up. “What does that mean? You’re sensing auras or something?”

They snort. “Sure, auras. Feelings. Whatever you want to call it.” 

Ugh, just what you needed. A nosy reaper to take you into the void. You start walking again, standing next to them and waiting for them to continue onward. They seem to look you up and down before doing so. 

“So what am I supposed to do while we walk? Does this ever end or am I stuck strolling around with you?” You sigh, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“As if. I told you, I’ve got other souls to see too.” 

“So then when-” you start but they silence you with a flick of their wrist. 

“You will know when we get there.” 

Again, cryptic and unhelpful but you sigh and allow the silence to fall again. If you’re not going to get answers out of this guy then why bother? But since you can’t dwell in your thoughts too long, you don’t know what to do. What were you doing before the crash? Singing? Probably. You love music, so much that you were constantly listening to it. Even in your sleep! Perhaps the only moments of silence in your life were when you were taking exams for school. 

What was the last song you were playing? Hopefully something good. Your playlists weren’t exactly filtered through so some of the songs were from before your music tastes changed. You hear a defeated sigh. “You were listening to Teenager. GOT7.” Well, you muse, at least it was a good song. 

You wonder how much long you’ll be walking but apparently the answer was not long at all. The pure black melts into a gloomy grey so you can see a little better. The reaper holds an arm out in front of you, making you stop in front of what seems to be nothing truthfully. But you can sense something from the space in front of you and well, your guide should definitely know what’s going on. 

“Wait here.” They push you back just a bit before stepping forward and- You blink. They’re gone, utterly vanished into that pale light. If you squint just a little harder, you can see the barest outline of a doorway. 

Left out there by yourself, it’s… Eerie. It may not be pitch black anymore but even in the dim light, you feel uneasy. Your skin crawls because it’s too quiet. There’s not a sound at all, nothing to indicate that this space even really exists. Or that you exist. That reaper had really put you at ease, hadn’t they? Walking by your side, a presence to shield you from some of the suffocating clutches of the vast void. You regret being a little impatient with them now, even as you hope to whatever deity listens that they’ll be back soon. Something tells you that you don’t want to be left here, alone, for any reason at all. You can’t help pacing around a little, thumb coming up to your mouth. Bad habits don’t die apparently. 

Your throat feels tight and it’s hard to breathe and everything feels smaller even though it’s just a great empty nothing and and and-

“Quit that.” You jerk your head up to see the reaper. Even from their voice they sound agitated but when you look up, you actually. Woah. 

He’s really cute. His lips are drawn in a tight line and his forehead is wrinkled as he stares down at you. Wait, since when were you on the floor, crumpled up like this? You jump up, a little unsteady. Fuck that’s embarrassing. Anyways, back to the cute guy who’s apparently been walking by your side the whole time. 

“Come on.” 

The door materializes, heavy and dark wood. It looks as ominous as you would expect but there’s also comfort in seeing something so real. You attempt to take a step forward but your legs give out. Now of all times, you think as you collapse. The guy sucks in a breath and darts forward to catch you even a little, his hand gripping your arm tight. “Sorry,” you mumble, your other hand firm on the ground. “Sorry, I’ll get up, I-” 

Your brain races to recap this whole situation. You’re dead. You died and you left everyone you loved behind and you never did anything meaningful with your stupid life and you, you, you-

You’re crying. You’re crying and your tears are warm. Some part of you thought they’d be cold. But they’re warm, down your cheeks and your chin and your nose. Your hands tremble even as they fly to your face and touch the tracks carved. Your chest heaves and you cry awfully human like for a ghost. 

Since when were you cradled in his chest? Since when had he set you down and pulled you quietly, gently into his arms? Since when had he begun to sing, a melody so soft it breaks your heart? He rocks you right there on the floor, surrounded by terrible gloom. He’s awfully warm for a reaper.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, again and again and again. Your face is pressed right into his robe and he’s shifted to stroking your head, tangling and detangling his fingers from your hair. “I’m sorry.” 

He clicks his tongue. “This is why you’re all so troublesome.” But he still keeps stroking, steadily draining away your desolation. 

You’ve never really given thought to reapers. They’re caricatures of Halloween and death and usually overly sinister to the point of being ridiculously goofy. But this one isn’t like that. He’s not just a skeleton dressed in a scary robe, using his scythe to tear down lives. He didn’t make you die. All he did was wake you up and walk with you through what could’ve been years of darkness. You grip his robes and look up. You probably look like shit honestly, with puffy red eyes and red cheeks. He looks down to meet you with a slight curve to his lips. “You’ve stopped crying.” Ah, how beautiful he is like this. 

You swallow. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it was to be expected. You didn’t die very nicely. Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t break halfway through.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it with more strength than you thought you had. “Now, are you ready to go?” He gestures to the door. It creaks open but you can’t see what’s beyond. 

But you are, strangely, ready. Did you leave behind everything you had? All your regrets and sadness, there on the floor in his arms? Just what kind of magic did he cast on you? 

You take a deep breath and step forward until you’re just before the door. He’s held onto your hands this whole time and some part of you expected him to continue through the door. But he lets your hand float out of his own as you pass through. You whip around and manage to catch one last glimpse. 

Oh, how sad he looks, with his kind smile and crying eyes. It was a blessing to have him by your side as you went, wasn’t it? You muster up everything you have to shout.

“Thank you!”

[chokemedaddyclown]

Off Night

Bob Gray x Reader | Smut Request

Request by @a-shygur: Hi I'm a nasty sewer bitch! May I request a nsfw drabble of Bob gray being unusually soft? Maybe he's upset about something or reader is upset. He's still nasty and dirty talks and drools but it's more praise based than degrading?

A/N: I'm starting to gain quite a few requests for some nasty Bob Gray fics on top of the Penny ones. It warms my filthy little heart to see.  So, if I haven't written yours yet, I'm not ignoring it, I just haven't gotten a chance to write it yet! ALSO, there is only one Bob Gray gif in the gif search. Someone needs to fix that ASAP!

××××

You tried to keep a slow pace as you walked to Bob's tent, not wanting to make it too obvious how eager you were to get the man alone with you so he could fuck you ragged again. He kept you around more or less as someone he could fuck however and whenever he wanted, and you were okay with that.

You did whatever he wanted, and in turn, he kept you around and gave you a place to stay. It was also a big help that you favored being used as a fucktoy by the old bastard. Plus, you had settled into the circus life pretty quickly, you might even dare say that you loved it.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily as his tent finally appeared in your view. The heat and ache in your core only growing more obvious by the second as the arousal and fear of the thought of what he might do to you started sprouting up in your mind. Bob had his own set of proclivities it seemed, and he was without a doubt one of the nastiest fucks you've ever had, even revolting at times, and you loved every minute of it.

Your core was aching when you finally arrived to the tent after what felt like hours of walking. You were already so eager and wet, ready to please this the old man in any perverted way he wanted.

You really were a whore for him, weren't you?

You pulled the flap of the tent back, with your heart pounding in your chest, making you clit throb in time with your heartbeat. Bob was hunched over his desk, his heavy lidded eyes and brows fixated on his desk.

"Bob?"

He cut his eyes to you, his thick brown bone narrowing in your direction. "Now, surely you know better than to address me like that."

You bit your lip, giving him a nod. "Sorry.. Daddy."

"That's better," he said, giving you a nod before pointing towards the entrance. "But you can get out of my sight now. In no mood for abusing you tonight, pretty thing."

"What's wrong, daddy?" You squeaked, taking a step towards him. He had never denied you since you had been here, and it made you nervous. "I can make you feel better."

"That is none of your concern." He flashed you a dangerous look. "You should get out of here while you can, little girl."

"No. Please..," you breathed, fumbling with your fingers as you looked down, somewhat ashamed that you were begging for this man to treat you so horribly. "Don't make me leave."

He hummed, giving you a small chuckle as he looked at you intently, with yellowed, bloodshot eyes. "Rather stay here and let me treat you like a whore, hmm, is that it?"

You nodded. "Am I good enough?" You tried to hide your guilty expression.

"Are you good?" He scoffed, his lips upturning in a devious grin as the drool dangled on his bottom lip. "You are the best little whore. Got daddy all hard just thinkin' about that tight little cunt," he praised.

Your eyes widened slightly, it was somewhat of a shock to hear him speaking to you so sweetly. Well, what was considering sweet for him. He was usually very degrading and downright sickening when he talked to you, and you loved it, but actually hearing him praise you was making you wet all over again, and that familiar ache intensified, sending a jolt straight to your core. It was so new that you weren't even really sure how to respond to him.

He could obviously see that, too, as he motioned you over with a boney finger. "C'mon then, better make me feel better.. Don't make me punish you now."

You sauntered over towards him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

You were taking too long for his taste, and once you were in reach, he wrapped his slender fingers around the material of your dress. He definitely was still acting like quite a brute as he yanked you down to him, making you stumble on your own feet as he pushed you to the ground on your knees between his legs.

You settled in between his long, spindly limbs, looking up at him with a lusty stare as you waited.

"My cock ain't gunna suck itself, slut," he crooned, he reached down to curl his fingers beneath your jaw, making you look up at him. "Don't make me tell you twice now."

"Yes, sir," you answered.

You reached up to place both of your hands against his knees, noting how hard his cock already was through his pants, just straining to break free from it's restricting confines. You reached up, palming his length through his slacks, ushering an approving grunt from him as he gazed down as you. He reached out, tangling your hair around his fingers as you squeezed and rubbed his cock through the fabric.

Your other hand snaked it's way up his leg to undo the button at the top of his pants, and bringing the zipper down slowly. He took his free hand and reached into his pants, letting his large cock spring forward as he pulled you up closer to it, forcing your head down until your lips were pressed against the leaking, swollen tip. His grip tightened in your hair as his breathing became ragged, he hunched forward as a long strand of his saliva streamed down onto the head of it and your lips.

"Be a good girl," he cooed, digging a finger in between your lips. "Open up your mouth."

You obeyed as you kept eye contact with his glowering, golden eyes. You opened up your mouth from him while he placed both hands on the side of your head. He pushed his hips forward, letting his cock enter your mouth slowly before he gave a quick thrust, jutting the length of it to the back of your throat. You moaned against his cock as he filled your throat, your tongue working against the underside of his shaft as he held your head in place. He rolled his hips against you continuously as he fucked your throat, his pace getting a little rougher each time. He laid his head back onto his chair, grunting and growling in pleasure.

You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, the sensation making your mouth water as you began to slobber profusely, with it spilling out the side of your mouth in long strands. He only forced your head down farther on his cock as you began to choke on his, gasping for air and your face turning a scarlet color. He let out a guttural growl as he looked back down, his lips curled to reveal his sharp teeth.

The old pervert just loved to watch you choke on his dick.

And so did you.

He thrust himself into your throat a few more times, making you cough and gag even more against his dick before he finally yanked you back by your hair, letting you catch your breath as he pulled himself out of your throat. Your eyes were watering and you were covered with your own saliva at this point. He reached down to give you a few hard smacks across your face before he dug his fingers into your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him as he pulled you up to a standing position between his legs again.

"My nasty little girl listens so well," Bob cooed, giving you that familiar, eerie grin. "Now, get those panties off."

You could feel your heart hammering in your chest as he spoke. Between the things that he did to you and the filthy ways that he spoke to you, you were nothing more than putty in this dirty old man's hands at any given moment. You gulped down the excess drool in your mouth and reached down, lifting your dress up slowly. Bob's hand trailed down to his exposed cock, stroking it as he watched you hook your fingers into the soft fabric of your underwear, pulling it down to reveal your dripping cunt to him.

"Mmm, look at you" he spoke gruffly, rubbing his thumb over the head of his cock. "Get in daddy's lap. Time for me to fill that tight little cunt up."

You smirked, feeling another wave of heat sweeping through you as you lifted one of your legs over his as he caught it with his cold hand, letting it linger there, making you lower yourself down slowly. He held his pulsating cock in the other hand, pulling your thigh down until your pussy was ghosting over his cock, letting the head of it just barely brushing against your drenched folds.

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, a small, sharp moan escaping you as he jerked his hips upward, letting his swollen head sink inside of you, only momentarily, before pulling it back out, torturing you. Your legs began to shake as you fought the urge to push yourself down onto him and ride him, but you knew better than to do that without his say so.

"Fuck," you moaned, looking at him with pleading eyes.

He grabbed your face with his other hand, pressing roughly into your delicate skin as he pushed you down further. Your eyes rolled back in ecstacy as his cock finally began to stretch you open, sinking into your entrance. His mouth was watering as he watched you sliding down onto his thick cock, and you could feel drips of his saliva hitting your thighs. He finally shoved your hips all the way down in one fluid motion, making his whole cock slide into you all at once, filling you up so tightly that you whimpered at the uncomfortable feeling.

"Don't move, pretty thing," he growled, smacking the side of your face again. "Just sit on my cock like a good little slut. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir," you said.

Bob reached out to run his unnaturally cold hands over your body as he leered down at you through his heavy lids. You tried to keep your legs from shaking even more as you felt his large cock twitch inside of you. You had to fight the urge to roll your hips into his, desperate to get some friction on your aching clit as he sat there, taunting you. He finally let his hands settle on your breasts, squeezing them roughly enough to make you wince.

He grabbed the flimsy fabric at your cleavage, popping the seams of the outfit as he ripped it down the middle, exposing your breasts to him. His golden eyes lit up, with another glob of drool splashing onto your heated skin. He gave a mischievous chuckle as he stared at your naked chest, admiring his handywork as he studied the roadmap of bruises and bitemarks that already lay across your skin from you last encounter. He pinched one of your nipples, rolling it tightly between his thumb and index finger, making you let out a choked gasp at the sensation.

"Such a fragile little thing, you are," he said in that deep, guttural tone as he pressed his finger into one of the deep bitemarks that had scabbed over on your skin, making you grit your teeth as he did so. "I could break you at any moment, couldn't I, babydoll?"

"You could..," you breathed, peering up at him. "Just.. not in a bad way, I hope."

"No, no, no." He shook his head, trailing his fingers up your chest to wrap around your neck, tightly. "I'd never hurt my favorite toy.. Not more than she could handle anyway."

He gave you that wicked smirk as he wrapped a hand around your neck, rolling his hips up into roughly, making you groan as you felt his cock hit your cervix instantly. You put your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself, feeling his jutting collarbone just beneath the surface of his shirt. He rolled his hips into you harder this time, ushering a whimper from you as his cock delved inside of you again, bottoming out with each thrust he took.

You took it as your que to begin grinding your hips against his. You moaned, bucking your hips against his, purposefully making yourself bounce in his lap as you straddled him, feeling his cock pump in and out of you as it hit all of the right spots. You were so wet with arousal that you were leaking everywhere, and you could feel that you had completely soaked through his pants now.

"Good girl, such a tight cunt, so obidient.. All for me," Bob growled in an animalistic tone, grabbing you by the cheeks again, pulling you to his face. "Is this what you wanted, pretty thing? Just wanted me to fuck you like the filthy whore you are?"

You nodded your head profusely, unable to make a real sentence, you were too focused on trying to keep up with the hard strokes he was making beneath you. You moaned brokenly as he spoke to you in such a dirty way, it was just as much of a turn on as him fucking you was.

"Say IT," he spat at you, he gave you the hardest slap to your face yet. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You, daddy," you whined, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as you felt your impending organ building up. " I belong to you.. Just you.."

"Oho, you're such a good little bitch, pet," he commended you, biting down into your shoulder to leave yet another mark on you, claiming you as his own. "I might just let you cum soon.. Y'better beg."

"Yes," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders while you still grinded against him. "Please, please, let me cum, daddy.. Please."

"Good, good, good, little girl," he breathed raggedly.

He narrowed his eyes at you, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to spit into them, lowering his hand back down to your cunt. Although, there was no need for it, you were wet enough for the both of you, but he never missed a chance to be downright disgusting.

His thumb found your clit, drawing fast rhythmic circles around it that made you writhe in his lap as you picked up the pace of your own thrusts, whining and throwing your head back as you rode him as hard as you could. He pressed his thumb down into that swollen bundle of nerves, making you jerk your hips against him sharply as each press sent a painfully sensitive jolt through you.

Your orgasm was sneaking up on you fast, and you knew you weren't going to be able to hold back once it started.

"You gunna cum?" He cooed, squeezing your neck even harder to cut off your blood flow. "Better cum, pretty thing, because I'm ready to cum, and if I cum before you, then tough shit."

Between his talking and the sensation of him cutting off your blood flow, you were in a complete daze. His grip had tightened up even further on your neck as his thumb was still jammed against your clit. That throbbing and heat that you felt inside that had been building up came crashing down without any warning as you drenched his cock. You cried out, locked within the euphoric sensation as the orgasm took over all of you. You could still feel Bob's hand around your neck, and everything seemed to go black for a moment as you rode out your orgasm.

After a second, everything finally came fading back into your view as you were still on Bob's lap, trying to catch your breathe as his thrusts inside of your cunt never faultered. He wasn't even paying you much attention now as he fucked you ragged, only focusing on his own release now as his eyes went wild with lust, his grunts creating a consistent, primal melody all their own.

"Get on the fucking ground," he snapped, his breath becoming shallow as he pushed you off of him, leaving you feel empty without his cock as you landed on the dirt of your back.

You looked up at him, curious, but not surprised. You were still riding the high from the strong orgasm you had just received, and you sat up straight, looking up at him seductively as he glared back down at you. His mouth was upturned into a feral snarl as he grabbed ahold of your hair and his cock. He pulled your head up closer to it a he stroked himself, pumping his hand along the length at a steady pace.

"Open your mouth, babydoll," he ordered.

You did what he said without a second thought or hesistation. You perched yourself up on your knees, laying your head back for him as you opened up your mouth up, waiting.

His fingers dug into the back of your head as a final, guttural grunt escaped his throat as you felt the spurts of his cum landing in hot, thick ropes across your face and mouth. He pulled your head forward, making you take his length into your mouth again as he made you suck him, cleaning his cock with your mouth before pulling you away from him.

"Now swallow," he said calmly, using his hand to tuck himself back into his stained and soaked slacks.

You gulped.

The taste in your mouth was an overwhelming saltiness and not in the least bit something that had an actual appealing taste. Bob pressed his fingers into your face, further smearing his seed around it on purpose, just to make you into a total, disgusting mess. He shoved his fingers into your mouth, and you could taste the saltiness on them as you sucked them clean. He gave them a quick shove into your throat, forcing yet another gag out of your for good measure.

"My obidient little cumslut," he giggled harshly.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, giving you just the slightest, smallest smirk of gratitude before he pushed you back down into the ground on your ass as he stepped back over to his chair to sit down. He turned away from you to focus back on whatever he was doing beforehand.

"I don't need your distractions now. Get out of here." He waved you away with his hand. "Clean yourself up. You're disgusting."

"Thank you, sir." You bit your lip as you pulled yourself off of the ground, a smirk forming on your face as you gave him one last glance before exiting.

Oh, how charming he was.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 49: Inheritance

Lance is compelled to speak to his father.

First  Previous  Next

It starts toward the end of winter, but still early. Keith knows he’s in trouble the moment he wakes. There’s a slight, aching pain in his legs, specifically at his hips and his knees. That’s where it always begins: in his femurs. Then it travels down his legs and up his back. This time, the pain will be most prominent in his hips and shoulders. Or so he’s been told.

He should tell Lance. Immediately. But… Keith smiles, feeling, hearing the gentle beat of Lance's heart beneath his cheek, the arm he has wrapped around his spouse’s middle. His tail is twisted around Lance’s leg, binding them together. One of Lance’s hands rests on the arm thrown over his middle, the other still at Keith’s back, tangled in his long, loose hair. Lance's own hair fans over the pillows, and every breath is soft with sleep.

The pain can wait, and either way, he’s still quite sleepy… Besides, it would be wrong of him to wake Lance. Right? Right. Keith settles back in with a sigh.

...

Lance notices almost immediately once they actually do get out of bed, and he watches Keith go about his morning. He’s moving stiffly, like he’s in pain. “You’re starting your growth spurt, aren’t you?”

“Not exactly. I’ll begin my growth spurt in about a movement. But it starts hurting now... It’s a bit earlier than I expected.”

Lance holds out a hand, taking Keith’s and pulling him down beside him on the bed. Slipping the comb from Keith’s hand, Lance gets to work on his hair, starting at the ends, taking his time to get out all the tangles. “Are you scared?”

“A little,” Keith whispers, pushing a lock of thick, dark hair over his shoulder. “Lance?”

“Hm?” Lance runs fingers through Keith’s hair, coaxing a bit of quintessence into the strands to keep it healthy.

“Just- Be there if I need you?” That’s not what Keith wanted to say, but Lance lets it be what it is. He gives the answer he’d give any request Keith has for him.

“Always.” Lance gently braids a ribbon into Keith’s hair, ties a knot in the end. He hooks his chin over Keith’s shoulder, wraps his arms around him. “We should take you to Daibazaal. You’ll be more comfortable there, and they can help you better than we can.”

“How will we get there?”

“In a shuttle.”

“And how do we get a shuttle?”

“I need to speak to my father.” Lance rises, slips behind a room divider to change. It’s more efficient than slipping into a bathroom has been. “Will you be alright on your own for a few doboshes... or vargas, depending on Alfor’s mood?”

Keith nods, fingers anxiously tugging at the end of his braid. “I’m not in any immediate difficulty. I’ll go find Adam. Perhaps he has something I can help with. And maybe some painkillers?”

“Oh, definitely. And I’m sure he’ll be happy to have you, regardless. Be sure to talk shit about Shiro. He loves a good bit of gossip, believe it or not. And, hey.” Lance kisses Keith’s temple, his cheek, his lips. “If you need me, or if you want me, you call me. I’ll come.”

“I know. And I’ll do the same. Just call.” Keith returns Lance’s kiss with a smile.

“I’ll see you soon.” One last kiss, and Lance scurries off to his father’s study, where Alfor always is just after breakfast. He himself missed breakfast so Keith could sleep. The normally early riser has been quite sleepy the past movement or so. He sends a quick message to Adam to make sure Keith gets a good meal. A ping of acknowledgement from his attendant, and Lance marches into the study.

Alfor is sitting at his desk, surrounded by a series of tablets, with a holotable in one corner. It's a surprisingly small room. Lance assumes Alfor likes it because no one would think to look here unless they already knew where he was.

“Good morning, Lancel.” Alfor scrolls through a tablet.

“Keith has begun his growth spurt.” Lance waits for a response. Alfor makes a note in his datapad.

“Excellent. I may yet have two married children before I die of old age.” The king doesn’t look up from his tablet.

“I wish to take him to Daibazaal. He-”

“Out of the question, Lancel.” Couldn’t Alfor at least look at him? Even just once?

Lance squares his shoulders, presses on. “He will be more comfortable there, and they will be better able to treat his condition. We cannot risk complications-”

“My answer is still no. He will just have to endure-”

“He will not!” Lance declares.

Alfor finally looks up, frowning. “Yes, Lancel, he will. Two phoebs ago, you were nearly assassinated. You expect me to hand you over to the Galra, serve you up to them on a silver platter? Risk the future of Altea for something as trivial as pain? Absolutely not-”

“LIKE YOU EVER CARED ABOUT ALTEA!!!” Fingers curling, Lance glares at his father, waiting for some kind of acknowledgement. “And what about my pain?! And Keith’s pain?! When does that get to matter?”

Alfor flies to his feet, eyes flashing. “Your pain does not matter! You want to talk about pain?! I have killed men, women, and children for Altea! Slaughtered villages for Altea! Sacrificed my best friend for Altea! Bartered my children for Altea-”

“Built a secret war room for Altea,” Lance snaps.

“Contingencies, Lancel! I do what must be done! You-”

“Did you even know about the King’s Road being damaged? A headman came a decaphoeb ago seeking it’s repairs, and you did fuck all to-”

“I signed off on that request myself, and instructed the builders to leave behind any excess materials for the commune to use as suited them! As is protocol!”

“Then why-”

“Sometimes, court orders are lost, Lancel! If I might ask you a question, why do you assume I simply did not care? Why do you assume I do not care about Altea?”

Lance’s eyes find the floor. There’s so much here, so much distrust and disdain, that it’s better just to retreat. “Forgive me, Father. I have disrespected you.”

“I don’t care about your disrespect, Lancel.” The king stares at his son, quite suddenly old, tired. “But do you truly think so little of me?”

Eyes stinging, perhaps from shame, or embarrassment, or perhaps some son’s grief, Lance turns away from his father, away from the heaviness of Alfor’s voice. After a long stretch of silence, he forces the word past his lips.

“Sometimes.” The first tear falls. Lance brushes it away, saltwater skittering over his scales.

“Lancel-”

“I’m sorry. I’ll-” Lance turns to go, but Alfor wraps fingers around his arm. His breath catches in his throat, waiting for that hand or that voice to strike him.

“Lancel...”

Alfor gently coaxes his son to turn, brushes his thumbs over those glittering blue scales. It’s affection so unexpected that Lance can’t quite choke back a sob. “My son... My boy. I’ve lost you. Please don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

“I’m sorry.” He’s unsure why he’s sorry, exactly, but Lance must have done something somewhere along to line. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be like this.

“No, Lance. Not this time.” The king runs a hand through his son’s hair, sending it askew. Lance swipes at his face.

“I’m trying. I’m trying. It was a trick. The whole thing with the girls and the boys and the- all of it! I swear it was! I wanted- I wanted to seem more impressive.” Lance swipes at his face, trying to stop his tears as he rambles. “But then I had to give it up and now I’ve lost my one shot at gaining respect before I even had any to gain but I still have all this stuff I have to do and- and I’m sorry!”

“No, I meant it’s not for you to apologize this time. It’s mine. I’m so sorry.” The king brushes a lock of hair away from Lance’s face. The boy stares listlessly at the floor.

“Lance. Lance, look at me.” Shining blue and pink eyes stare up into his, and Alfor smiles. “Never, under any circumstances ever, should you find yourself in an interrogation. Once you start you just keep going.”

The boy chokes on his laughter, nods. “I do. I always do. Keith says I babble when I’m upset, but I tell him he’s full of it. Ancients, it must have been so annoying on our wedding night, me prattling on about circlets and gardens and I’m-”

“‘-Doing it again’. Yes you are.” Alfor pulls his son into a hug. “Dear son, why do you want to go to Daibazaal so badly?”

“I promised. Phoebs ago. I promised I’d take him home. He- He misses it so much and- and I don’t know what to do for him right now.”

“Is it worth it to you?” Alfor whispers, rubbing his son’s back. “Have you calculated this risk?”

“I have. It is.” Lance curls his fingers into his father's cloak, soaking in that unfamiliar, desperately missed heat. “We’ll be staying with Shiro or Krolia, or within the Imperial compound. We’ll be working to hopefully gain favor or at least minimize animosity with the locals while we’re there. My combat skills have improved and-”

“You’re a good shot. Don’t think I didn’t notice.” Alfor inspects his son. “You really are good at this, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying to be. Keith’s gotten better and he’s become an enormous help. He’s so smart and talented and he’s funny and he makes it all way easier than it could be…”

Alfor watches, solemn, as his son retreats again, closes himself off. He sighs. “Lancel?”

“Yes?”

“Your presence here is invaluable. You’re aware of this?”

“Yes.” Calm. Assured. Except for a sniffle, Lance is perfectly composed when he gives that answer.

“You are invaluable. You’re aware of this also?”

“I- Yes.” Almost, then just as assured.

“I need you to do something for Altea if you go on this... excursion.”

“What do you want me to do?” He didn’t say ‘anything’. This, Alfor knows from experience, is a good thing. It means his son might live a longer life, and one where he will not be used.

“I want you to come back from Daibazaal married. No more stalling. On the off chance that anyone knows the truth, you must come back to Altea having bedded that boy. He doesn’t have to be pregnant, but I- we need you two married.”

Lance bites his lip, takes a composing breath. “One phoeb. You’ll have your official marriage in approximately one phoeb… The moment we go to Daibazaal, word is going to spread beyond the compound, and the people will know Keith is only just growing into adulthood. Not having mated with him is my first step to gaining the peoples’ trust. Assuming they don’t try to kill me first. Once we have the peoples’ trust, we have an actual alliance. One the citizens recognize.”

“Use Keith to gain favor with the locals-”

“If by ‘use’ you mean ‘go to for advice’, then I already plan to do that… You still think like a soldier.”

“I know.” Alfor smiles, rueful. “It’s the only way I know how to think.” Alfor sighs. “Fine. If you think it in Altea’s best interests, go to Daibazaal. But do please be careful, son. Stay safe… I love you.”

“I-” Lance swallows. “I know. I love you too.”

“One of those statements is a lie.” The king smiles at the affronted expression on his son’s face. “We’ll work on it. You’ll be lying like your old man in no time… Or perhaps better.” Alfor’s smile fades, worry taking its place. “Please come home, Lance. I- We need you.”

“I will.” In the absence of his father’s smile, Lance manages to find one. “I promise.”

“I’ll leave it all to you then. As I should have done already.”

Lance meets his father’s eyes, nods in understanding. “I’ll make all the arrangements. Adam and Pidge will accompany us. Coran will handle court in my stead, with assistance from Lanval and Hunk. New legislation will be ready by Spring, as always. Nothing will be neglected.”

“As you say, Prince Lancel. The kingdom defers to you.” Alfor sighs. “And, for the record, the war room really is for contingencies. You and Keith can look when we get back. Also, you’re going to have to rehire Pidge after I fire them for treason. I’m assuming they’re the one who found my room in the first place.”

“If my efforts prevail, we’ll have no use for your contingencies, but still I will see what you’ve come up with. In the meantime, I’d best prepare for our departure and tell Pidge to ignore you.”

“I expect to hear from you while you are there, understand? Coran will never let you leave the castle again if you don't.”

“I understand. I need to speak to my team and make the necessary arrangements for our departure. Excuse me.” The young prince bows, smiling thinly at his father, before hurrying from the room.

Alfor stares at his grown up son. When the quiznak did that happen? Yesterday? A phoeb ago? When he married? It doesn’t really matter. It happened, and Alfor missed it.

He promises his son’s retreating back that he won’t miss anything else.

Keith wakes from dozing on the couch when Lance stumbles in. “Hey. Adam sent me here to sleep- Woah, hey.”

Lance sits down next to his spouse, sighs. “So… My father and I got into it. Well, as much as we can get into it, given that talking to each other is our least favorite thing to do.”

“What happened?” Keith hesitates, takes Lance’s hand, grips it tight. He knows he made the right choice when Lance rests his head on his shoulder.

“Well, he said our pain didn’t matter, I think. And then we yelled about how much our lives suck, like shitty royals do, and then… I’m not sure. I think he kind of handed over authority to me?”

“Well that’s… good, right? About him deferring to you? That’s what Altea needs.”

“I don’t know! I just-” Lance takes a deep breath, and Keith slips a hand up to thread fingers in his white hair. “He told me he loved me. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since he told me that?”

Keith shakes his head, teasing a lock of Lance’s hair, anxious for his spouse.

“It’s been decaphoebs.” It comes out like a trembling leaf, like the slightest disturbance could tear each word apart like the thinnest paper. The Crown Prince of Altea draws away, studying their joined hands. “He hasn’t told me he loved me since my tenth birthday, when he gifted me a sword as a present, and promised I would shed Galra blood by my next centaphoeb.”

“Well, there’s time yet. He might still be right.” Keith smiles as Lance laughs, a little wet, very bitter. It’s not always hard, this thing they’re creating. It comes easier and easier as time goes on. “Do you believe him?”

“Not then. Maybe now. He’s a hard man for me to understand. Either way, this is my decision to make. My risk to take, if I so choose.”

Keith licks his lip, regards his spouse carefully. “And?”

“And I'm thinking instead of a short visit like we planned, we'll stay for a phoeb or two-” Lance’s words are cut off with a gasp as Keith throws his arms around him, presses their lips together. After a moment, Lance pulls back, that eyebrow cocked for mischief. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yes,” Keith breathes. “Yes!” Their lips collide again, deeper this time, more tender.

“Did you doubt me all this time?” Lance mumbles, breaking their kiss to slip his quintessence under Keith’s skin. He investigates Keith’s condition, finds spots of inflammation and does what little he can to soothe them.

His alchemy has been improving.

“Truthfully? A little.” They sit there a moment, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, some unspoken thing welling from their hearts, not ready to be put out in the open. “When can we leave?”

“Can you wait until tomorrow? I have to make some arrangements and inform Lotor that we’re coming.”

“You mean request to visit?”

“I said what I said.” Brief laughter, and Lance settles back against the couch.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Keith whispers, still holding his spouse against his side. It's nice, being able to give back a little of what Lance has given him.

“Not at all. But I’m sure that I will be. After all, I won't be doing it alone.”

Lance leans up, kisses his ear. He settles against Keith, rests his head against his chest, and Keith brushes aside the slightened but still present ache in his legs in favor of a quiet moment before the rush of preparation begins. After all, once Lance sets foot on Daibazaal, he’s sure to do nothing but chatter for the better part of a quintant.

But whatever. Keith wouldn’t want him any other way.

[artzypaw]

Dame Blanc AU

Finally finished the snippet ‘:D

“This- This is amazing!” Mister Bug breathes, outstretching his arms to inspect his newly designed armor. His heart pounds in his chest as he observes the rest of his body. “The amount of raw energy i feel soaring through my veins is as if I just went through an inner-body car wash.”

Lady Noir smiles at the enthusiasm; his excitement contagious. But, her smile falters. She can feel the corners of her mouth grow sore and heavy from use, as if she’d been smiling for hours. She knits her brows together slightly in thought, wondering why her mood was suddenly distraught. Turning herself away from her partner’s rant, she wraps her hands over each arm in a comforting embrace. The weight settling itself upon her chest was gradually becoming unbearable. The more Lady Noir analyzes the more she begins to doubt those initial judgments.

Her eyes feel thick and enlarged; eyesight blurry and she can’t quit excessively blinking. What is happening to her? Mister Bug’s voice is now muffled in the distance compared to her not so silent mind. All of a sudden, there’s no belief she can help defeat the akuma. She doesn’t believe that she can accomplish anything. Not as a hero, a friend, a daughter- she is just a burden walking around everyone’s lives. Mister Bug has the cleansing powers now, he can save Paris by himself. Does he really need her to flail around like some idiot?

No. They’re a team. Lady Noir and Mister Bug are no different than LadyBug and Chat Noir. They are the same people and depend on one another.

But what is she without the Ladybug Miraculous? Lady Noir shuts her jaw abruptly, preventing her lips from trembling as her mind continues to mutilate itself. It doesn’t matter whether or not she has it, either way she is now an unnecessary addition to her partner’s problems.

Mister bug hears a chant in the distance echoing off of the building’s rooftops, and turns himself to face the still raging Akuma.

They perch themselves about a block away, and stand up-

He gasps as the Akuma is immediately stripped away from the civilian. The silhouette falls onto their knees in the distance and he flicks his attention over to Lady Noir to see her reaction.

Except she wasn’t paying attention at all. Her back was to him, and he can see the sharp claws extending off her fingers dig into her forearms.

“My Lady?” He asks, cautiously walking towards his distressed partner. She doesn’t respond and his chest tightens with worry.

He’s a step away, hand perched outward to gingerly rest upon her shoulder, when he sees it. Flying strait for them. His eyes widen, heart quickens and he hurriedly tries to close the gap between them- “No- wait NO!”

Everything is silent as he watches her back straighten slowly. Mechanically; as if it were moving on its own accord.

“Dame Blanc…” she hears behind the mask.

Her body is consumed with countless shades of blacks and purples, and when she’s completely covered the veil drops revealing her newly whitened suit.

She rotates herself and faces Mister Bug, eyes putrid with emotion as they shine vibrant hues of pinks, purples and blues. Normally, he would’ve been flattered by the attention, but something was horribly wrong in the way she positioned herself.

She lurches forward, arms reaching out to grab him, and he ungracefully screeches while jumping back. His reaction time wasn’t fast enough and Dame Blanc grazes his right arm with her claws.

The pain is immediate, and his entire arm begins to throb. But he doesn’t have time to dwell. Picking up pace, he sprints away from his raging parter and makes way for the rooftops of Paris. The sun had been setting prior to their original Akuma, so as Mister Bug hops between buildings, the shadows outstretch into deeper, darker shades causing him to eye is footing more carefully. He needs to gain distance so he can process what the hell is happening, and how he is going to fix it. He just started using the LadyBug miraculous.

As soon as Mister bug believes he’s clear, Dame Blanc is directly on his tail. He continues to run on the rooftops until finally deciding to jump down below and through the alleyways. His heart pulses in his chest and out his ears the more he ran, the more he began to panic because he did not want to fight his partner. He needed to find a safe space to collect his thoughts.

Taking a sharp corner, unnoticed, Dame Blanc leaps forward and grabs onto one of his legs, causing them both to tumble onto the cobblestone. He can feel her claws seep their way into the skin of his calf  and he barks out a cry in response. Her actions are reckless and impulsive. She was quick to catch up and she was quick to attack. She crawls off her back and tangles herself with him. Mister Bug grasps onto her wrists, chest heaving as he exerts the little remaining energy into keeping her attacks to a minimum. He knew how strong his Lady was, but at the moment he could just barely constrain her. His back is flush against the cold flooring beneath them, and each time she jerks her arms in his hold his head bumps roughly on the stone. The next blow causes his eyes to shut closed as he fights sight spots. A hand breaks lose and Dame Blanc swipes her claws savagely cross his face and he cries, body trembling from exhaustion, adrenaline, terror;  he didn’t know what to do. His eyes water from the acid stinging radiating off his cheeks.

Opening his only good eye, Mister Bug can see the dim lighting illuminating from his partner’s eyes in the dark alleyway. The pink hues reveal tears of her own; sloppy and untamed. His heart wrenches inside itself.

“My Lady-” He croaks, arms colliding as they both struggle. She whines with a rugged inhale and takes her free hand to promptly crush his windpipes. She continues to pull and tug against his hold on the arm still intact, and huffs in frustration.

Raising the hand upwards, she growls, “Cataclysm!”

He’s gripping her wrist with such ferocity she’s unable to press downward. He can’t call Lucky Charm. He can’t get out of her trap. He’s stuck and he could have never prepared for this.

As she squeezes his neck, he takes a brief moment to inspect the hand targeting him. His mind falls silent. The ring was on that hand. If the Akuma was going to be anywhere it would most likely be inside the ring. He needed to break it.

Spots flicker in his sight as he struggles to breathe, and without another second of thought releases his grip on her wrist and clutches her hand. He sharply inhales, the cataclysm working its way under the skin to break his bones. Working quickly, he finds the ring, and jerks his arm backwards, sliding it off her finger.

She wails at the action but it’s muted to Mister Bug’s shrill scream. He grits his teeth and clenches his broken hand into a fist, shattering the ring. The remains cascade down his palm and onto the floor, revealing the Akuma. He rolls off his back to grab his to-yo which causes Dame Blanc to fall into the cobblestone. Swinging his arm upward he calls “Miraculous Ladybug!”, the pink swarm reverting everything back to normal. His scratches, bruised neck, mild concussion, and broken hand heal, and Dame Blanc is changed to Lady Noir.

Putting the yo-yo back on his waist, he crawls over to his partner who is still crying. He rests a hand on her back.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice hoarse.

She shakes her head, eyes tilted to his and she leaps forward to engulf him in a hug. Her hands find themselves in his hair, straddling his head into the crook of her shoulder. Mister Bug’s arms slide around her frame to return the embrace;  chest aching.

“Minou, how can you save Paris feeling as if you are the smallest, most undesirable person in the world.” She chokes, pulling back to face him.

He frowns , “I don’t feel like that when I’m Chat Noir. I feel free to be myself and to save Paris with you.”

Her eyes widen, and she opens her mouth to say something but closes it with trembling lips. She drops her head into her hands.

“My Lady-!”

“That means you feel worse outside of the suit.” She says. Lady Noir lifts her head once more and rubs the tears off her flushed cheeks. Mister Bug stays silent, eyes focusing on the cobblestone underneath them. He did. Though if he knew that the suit would distress his partner enough to get them akumatized, he would have never agreed to swapping. How is he going to feel in the future when he’s potentially happier? Will the suit burden his heart as well? Maybe it reflects his current mental state- and it simply carried on to LadyBug.

“I wouldn’t have- I didn’t-“ he stutters, brows creasing as he forms his words.

Lady Noir places her hands on his, catching his attention. He shifts his eyes upward and locks with her gorgeous blue ones. She smiles, “I know.”

Propping herself on one knee, she drags his arm up with her and they stand up. The alleyway was completely blackened by the set sun; the moon now hanging above the two brightly. She doesn’t let go of his hands as she walks them deeper between the buildings. Once out of sight, they turn their backs toward one another, de-transform and transform back again into their original selves.

Ladybug takes Chat Noir’s hands, “We’re going to talk about this. You can’t avoid it. And I’m sorry for anything I did while akumatized. You looked pretty shaken up.”

He chuckles, cheeks reddening from embarrassment and guilt. “I’ll tell you later when we have our unavoidable chat but for now, My Lady, it is getting late and we both need a nice long cat-nap.”

He’s about to pull away but to his surprise she goes in for another hug. Her arms rest under his gently and he lowers his head into the crease of her shoulder. Maybe he needed those hugs more than he realized.

“Until next time, Minou.” She says after stepping back, spins her yo-yo, and flies up onto the rooftops of Paris and out of sight.

Chat remains in the alley, finally taking that break he so desperately needed earlier to reminisce about what exactly had happened. To take a deep breath and collect his thoughts. In the end, he couldn’t wait to see his lady once more, that’s for sure.

[miss-tc-nova]

All That and Bag of Mischief - Bragi x Reader

Part of the Smarmy Nonsense series. I’m having fun with my trouble-making Fluffcoat. 

~~~~~

               “Thank you for your patronage,” I chime, placing the payment in my bag. “Enjoy your book.” Waving to the customer as I leave, I pull out my list of orders for today’s deliveries.

               It’s a great day to be out and about instead of cooped up in the shop; I love my book store but sometimes it’s nice to get out. The sun is shining but there’s an ocean breeze keeping the heat in check. I’m glad to have such lucky weather on the day I decided to make deliveries. Sure, I probably could’ve paid a delivery service to take my customers their books, but this is part of my customer service guarantee and I get a little extra money on slow days.

               “Hey there, gorgeous.” An arm slaps around my shoulders, pulling me against the new-comer. I attempt to take a look, only to nearly lose my eyesight to fluff in the eye.

               “Hey sweetheart,” I giggle, blinking the assault away. “What are you doing here? I thought you had class today?”

               “I did, but the lesson finished early. So me and my friends are headin’ out for ice cream by the docks.” Giving me a squeeze and nuzzling my face, he adds on, “Wanna come?”

               “That sounds fun but I’ve still got two deliveries to make,” I respond, patting at my delivery bag.

               Before he can complain that I’m being lame, someone calls out: “Bragi, stop pestering innocent people.” Peering back, I see five more key bearers ambling towards us.

               “They’re not-…” Bragi catches himself. “Okay, they’re innocent but I’ve got a free pass to annoy this one.”

               The little blond waves. “Oh! Hey!”

               “Hey guys,” I greet.

               The one with silver hair, Xehanort, teases, “You’re still letting Fluffcoat pester you?”

               Bragi deadpans but I grin. “What can I say? Poor kid’s a sucker for me and I just can’t bring myself to break his heart.”

               “Alright, if you guys are just gonna bash me, you could at least give me some more of those squishy, watermelon candies,” Bragi says, opening my satchel and leaning in up to his waist.

               “Get out of there! The last time you fell in it took hours to get you out,” I chastise. Unsurprisingly, I get a variety of strange looks from his classmates.

               Vor raises her hand. “Question! How do you lose someone in a bag?”

               Pulling the red-head out by the back of his jacket, I respond, “It’s a magic bag.”

               Eraqus’s eyes light up. “Wait, is it bigger on the inside?!”

               “Yeah man, it holds way more than it should,” explains Bragi who apparently succeeded in swiping my candy.

               “Can I see?” Gods, I was not prepared for the sheer adorableness of the puppy-dog eyes aimed at me.

               I am defeated; “Okay.”

               The boy in white leans in. “This is so cool! Does it get heavier when you put more stuff in it?”

               “Not at all. That’s part of the magic.”

               The grin is visible but I don’t quite understand what’s going on in Bragi’s head. “Hey, you see the other bag of candy I left in there?”

               “No.”

               “You sure? I swear I left them in there.”

               Eraqus leans closer. “I don’t see it.”

               “Why don’t you get a closer look?” Without warning, Bragi bumps into his classmate. My stomach drops as Eraqus falls right into the bag.

               “Bragi!” I exclaim, shoving the mischief maker while he laughs. “Eraqus! Are you okay?!”

               There’s a groan from in the bag. “Yeah. I landed on a pile of blankets.”

               “You still haven’t taken those out?” asks Bragi to which I glare.

               “I don’t have time for this! I have deliveries to make!”

               Xehanort rolls his eyes. “I’ll get him.”

               “Wait!” I say, pulling the bag away from him. “You can’t just pull him out of the bag like everything else.”

               His head tilts. “Why not?”

               My eyes narrow at Bragi who seems so pleased with himself. “Because the bag responds to the conscience of people on the outside, making it easy to grab something from inside,” I explain. “But when a living thing ends up on the inside, their conscience scrambles the magic so it becomes difficult to pull them back out.” I glare at my boyfriend. “It took me hours to find the right spell to get Bragi out without splicing him.”

               Mouths fall agape while they all exclaim, “SPLICING?!”

               “Yeah, not fun. I can get him out but I still have two deliveries to make.”

               “Will he be okay in there?” questions Urd.

               “It’s really not that bad,” Bragi replies. A punch to the shoulder doesn’t dampen his amusement.

               I try to reassure her, “As long as basic needs are met, he could live in there.”

               “Like a pet?” Vor adds on.

               “Like Scala’s laziest hamster,” snickers Xehanort, earning plenty of laughter. A hand meets my face—I should’ve known better than to think any of them would take it seriously. Honestly, I’d probably be somewhat amused if it weren’t for the deliveries and the effort it’s going to take to get him out.

               “You know what.” Reaching into the bag, I grab the first bundle of books and shove it into my boyfriend’s arms. “You can make my deliveries.”

               “Wait, what?”

               The second set piles on. “And you better be polite to my customers—I’ll ask them when I see them next.” His protest comes as a groan.

               “Don’t worry, Vor and I will go with and keep an eye on him,” Urd consoles.

               “Thanks.”

               Vor pokes her head into my bag. “Sorry Era, no ice cream for you.”

               “What?!”

               I snatch my bag of candies back from a disappointed Smarmy. “You can have these if you want.”

               “Oh cool. Thanks.”

               “He’s pretty laid back, isn’t he,” I mutter.

               “One time when we were little, he broke his arm,” Hermod explains. “He cried for like ten minutes until Urd said he got to pick the color of his cast.”

               “Good gods…What color did he pick?”

               “Orange.”

               The conversation ends there and I lead Hermod and Xehanort back to my shop. Finding the right books with the right combination of spells takes a while and then I take to drawing the magic circle on the floor.

               “Geeze, I probably need to get this printed out if I know Bragi.”

               Hermod chuckles, “Yeah, I’m sure someone will end up falling in as long as he’s involved.”

               Xehanort checks on his friend. “You still breathing in there?”

               “Yeah.”

               Picking up two of the books, I’m busy going over the circle when the other three arrive.

               “How’s it going getting Eraqus back?” Urd asks, dropping munny on the counter.

               “No idea. They’ve been drawing on the floor with chalk for a while,” Xehanort tells her.

               Vor pipes up, “You’d think someone would’ve fallen in a magical bag and come up with a solution before.”

               “They’re actually pretty rare,” Bragi tells them. I smack him with a book before putting it on the counter. “Ow!”

               “Okay, I think I’ve got it. But…” I put a hand to my mouth, contemplating telling them. Ensuring that the bag is closed, I warn them, “Alright, if he starts screaming, push me in.”

               Only Bragi appears unbothered by my statement. Nevertheless, I don’t give them time to question me as I take the satchel away to place in the center of the circle.

               Thankfully, one flashy spell and a game of tug-o-war later, we have freed the boy in white.

               “Are you okay?!” Vor exclaims. “Do you have all your toes?!”

               Eraqus sits up wiggling his feet. “I think so.”

               “Oh thank gods.” I drag my hands over my face.

               Fluffcoat’s going to get another smack. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

               “It was kinda comfy in there,” Eraqus says unhelpfully and Smarmy points at him to back up his statement.

               I sit on the counter, copying down my custom circle in a blank book, while the group chatters for a while until Vor decides she still wants ice cream.

               “Hey, you two coming?” Hermod asks.

               I glance up from my sketch. “I’m good, but thank you.”

               “Bragi?” That’s when I realize he’s still leaning against the counter beside me.

               “Nah, you guys go ahead without me,” he hums. “I’m gonna stay and hang out.”

               “Alright. See you guys later.”

               Once the door closes, I hum, “You can go with them; you don’t have to stay here.”

               “I know, but I’m not done annoying you yet,” he says, folding his arms across my lap.

               The book rests on his head while I sketch a few more lines. “You better be stickin’ around to apologize.”

               “I had faith in you. I knew he’d be fine.”

               “Yeah, I’m sure you would’ve had a panic attack if he came out missing an arm.”

               “Sure, but as I said, I knew you could do it.”

               Finishing the copy of the new spell and writing notes, I close the book and set it aside. “Regardless, you owe me and Eraqus each an apology.”

               Bragi stands up. “And how do you want me to apologize?”

               There’s an inkling sneaking up from the back of my brain whispering revenge. A hand gently leading his face up, I smile. “You asking for a punishment?”

               “I’m asking how I get you to stop being annoyed at me.”

               Fingers hook into the high collar of his shirt. Our mouths get so close I feel his lips part in anticipation. “I think a punishment would be fitting.” Tugging at his shirt, I draw my tongue along his jaw line, loving how he tenses in response.

               “What kind of punishment are we talkin’?” He holds together pretty well, but that minute quiver in his words ignites a craving in me.

               “Well I’m definitely going to make you clean my floor later,” I say between kisses across his skin.

               His words don’t hold up quiet as well this time. “And now?”

               Just below his jaw, I bite. Bragi grimaces, reflexively flinching away. My fingers tangle in the soft locks to prevent escape and I turn to a slightly softer method. The boy twitches in my grasp but I’m not letting go until I’m satisfied with the mark I’m leaving behind. A beautiful maroon spot contrasts his fair skin, bringing me quite a bit of pride. Though it appears my victim is not nearly as amused as I am, aiming that irked expression at me while I wipe the excess saliva away. His eyes watching my tongue does not go unnoticed.

               “I think that about does it,” I sing, pushing him back so I can slip to the floor. I am in no way done with him but the frustration soiling his usually-aloof demeanor is too much to resist. “You know where the cleaning supplies are.”

               Not another second passes before I’m shoved up against the counter again. This time it’s my hair being used to prevent breaking apart. A few fervent kisses in, his tongue swipes across my lower lip. He’s demanding my compliance making refusing him all the more entertaining. The resulting growl flips my stomach. My laugh causes me to look away but Fluffcoat forces me back, still insisting I give in to him.

               Denied a second time, the young man resorts to my tactics: going for the neck. The move riddles my skin in goosebumps. He knows all about that little soft spot just above the collarbone and attempts to get me to break by giving it some attention. However, when I feel him take hold, I retaliate by nipping at his ear—his punishment was that I mark him, not the other way around. Apparently this was part of his plan because he’s immediately back at my mouth, claiming his prize.

               It’s a fun little game of back and forth that I hate to ruin but it’s starting to get late. He leaves me breathless and absolutely giddy.

               “If you apologize to Eraqus like that, we’re going to have a problem,” I inform him calmly.

               His reply is cheeky simper. “Aw, how come?”

               By fistfuls of his jacket, I pull him close. “Because I don’t share and I don’t think he’s prepared to fight me.” His intrigue glows in his eyes. “Now, I’m going to go upstairs and get working on dinner and you’re going to clean this chalk off my floor.” I release my victim with a smile and amble towards the stairs.

               “Wait, you seriously want me to clean this up?”

               “I told you I was going to make you do it,” I call back. “You didn’t have any arguments when you were trying to jam your tongue in my mouth.”

               “Dammit.”

[zigsexual]

*holds hands out* spare driam fics, m’lady??🥺🥺

ok this one is pretty essentially done, wrote it after drake mentioned he had a job in the stables as a teenager and liam used to follow him around in between his lessons which literally, what the fuck kind of bullshit is that i truly……… SIGH

word count is 1200+, feat. stupid dumb young love 

• • •

“What are you doing here?” Drake stares, suddenly acutely aware of how sweaty and dirty he is. He runs a hand through his hair, hoping at least to tame something about his appearance. “You have lessons.”

“I’m taking a break,” Liam says, eyes sparkling. “You should too.”

“I have stuff to do,” Drake retorts, leaning against the pitchfork he’s carrying. “Your royal stables don’t clean themselves, you know.”

“Let me help you,” Liam says, reaching out towards the pitchfork. 

Drake raises an eyebrow, but lets him take it. “And what do you know about mucking stalls, Prince Liam?”

Liam merely discards the pitchfork at his side, stepping closer to Drake so the two of them are shielded by the walls. “Not help you with cleaning,” he teases, taking Drake’s hands in his, “Help you take a break.”

When he leans in and kisses him, it’s soft and sweet, just the promise of something more. He squeezes Drake’s hands, smiling shyly when he pulls back, eyes sweeping across Drake’s face to read his expression. “Is that… okay?”

Drake nods, cheeks pink, and Liam swoops in to kiss him again. This time, when they part, Drake drops his hands and wraps his arms around Liam’s waist, pulling him back against the wall and drawing their mouths together, taking his time. 

Liam hums a contented sound against Drake’s lips, hands weaving tentatively into his hair. The gesture makes Drake smile, and he leans back, biting his lip to keep the grin contained. 

“What?” Liam asks, face flushed too. 

“Nothing.” Drake keeps smiling, eyes wandering Liam’s face as they have a thousand times. He’s still just as handsome, just as heart-stoppingly gorgeous as ever. 

Drake remembers where they are again, why he’s there in the first place. His face falls. “I’m probably so gross right now.”

Liam kisses his cheek. “Not at all.”

Drake shakes his head, stepping away from him and wiping his forehead on his sleeve. “I am. You’re just being nice.”

Liam reaches out and takes his hand again, drawing him back in close so he can press another kiss to his temple. “It suits you. Makes you look… rugged and handsome.” He smiles, surveying Drake. “You’re my handsome cowboy.”

Drake knows he’s exaggerating, but the words still make him blush. “There’s no cows here, silly. It’s horses.”

“Same thing,” Liam muses, drawing him back in. He should’ve known this is how his weak protests would turn out: him falling under Liam’s spell all over again until the two of them end up backed against a corner behind some hay bales, lips locked. 

He can’t really blame himself — kissing Liam is still his greatest new discovery of the summer, and he’d like nothing more than to continue discovering it every single day. He loves the way Liam feels against him, the way he tangles his hands in Drake’s hair, the way he tastes. It’s new and good every time, and still thrilling enough to make his stomach drop at just the thought of it. Which — he spends a lot of time thinking about it. More than he should. 

They break apart when they’re breathless, foreheads pressed together, giggling when their noses brush. Drake feels like he’s been struck dumb, unable to focus on anything but the light in Liam’s eyes and the laughter on his lips. 

“I like you so much,” he says, pressing a hand against Liam’s cheek. “If I’m your cowboy, then you’re my handsome prince.”

Liam leans into his touch. “Do princes usually spend time with cowboys?”

“In this world they do.”

Liam smiles. “Tell me about your world, then.”

“It’s very different,” Drake answers, “There’s cowboys with no cows, and princes in stable stalls. And…” He pauses, gazing out at Liam a moment before mustering up the courage to continue, “And kissing. Lots of kissing, with the most handsome prince of them all.”

“Of them all?” Liam’s smile seems to brighten even more. “Should I be jealous of the others?”

“Nope,” Drake answers, tugging Liam in against him. 

Their mouths meet in the kind of messy curiosity that’s paramount to teenage love, still trying to find their way around each other. Drake slips his hand into Liam’s hair, and Liam wraps an arm around his neck, and they test the waters of what exactly a French kiss might be until they have to break away — not for air, but for desire. 

Drake is always blushing around Liam — always, always blushing — and whenever he feels that deeply embarrassing surge of lust travel down his spine, he blushes harder than ever. As Liam reluctantly relinquishes him, he slinks down onto the hay bale unceremoniously, running both hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look less messy. 

Liam sets down next to him, always the proper one. “Sorry. I know you have stuff to do.”

“No, it’s… um,” Drake lets out a long, slow breath. “I just wish… that I didn’t.”

Liam leans his head against Drake’s shoulder, and the sudden contact makes his back go rigid. Liam pulls back immediately, sheepish. “I’m sorry, I’m —“

Drake shakes his head, taking Liam’s face in his hands and crashing their lips back together, embracing that fiery feeling that builds within him as he does. 

“Don’t apologize,” he manages to say in between kisses, breath heavy and voice low, “I want this with you.”

Liam’s the blushing one now, stars in his eyes as he gazes up at Drake. “Me too. So much.”

“Stop talking then,” Drake grins, waiting until Liam smiles too before leaning in to kiss it right off his lips. 

Liam grips into his hip, and Drake drops one hand down to rest atop Liam’s thigh, slowly inching higher and higher as their mouths meet again and again…

“Walker?”

They spring apart at the sound, eyes wide, and have barely a second to attempt to correct their debauched appearances before the head stablehand walks around the corner. 

He eyes the two of them warily. “Ah. Your highness. I hadn’t expected to find you here.”

Liam slips into professional mode, charming and demure. “Drake was teaching me how to clean out the stables.”

“Was he?” The old man grunts, entirely unconvinced. “Well, perhaps he could spend less time teaching and more time cleaning.”

Liam nods. “Yes, sir. My apologies.”

“None needed, your highness.” He eyes Drake with a practiced disdain, cultivated from years of dealing with rowdy palace teens. “Mr. Walker, however, does have work to do.”

“Of course,” Liam scrambles up from the hay bale, brushing the excess thatch off his clothes. “I’ll wait until he’s finished.” He turns back to Drake with a conspiratorial glimmer in his eyes. “See you at dinner.”

“See you,” Drake says back, not quite trusting himself to meet Liam’s eyes. He hazards a wary glance to the stablehand as Liam disappears around the corner, and is met only with a gruff nod. 

“I know you and the prince are…” He pauses, considering his words, “Close.”

Drake wants to die. 

“But when it comes to your work, it’s probably best that you wrap it up before the two of you go getting any closer.” The man crosses his arms. “Understand?”

“Yes,” Drake says quickly, face feeling hot again for a much less enjoyable reason. “Got it.”

“You’re a good kid, Walker. Finish up this stall and then you can head out.”

Drake nods, too embarrassed to say anything else as the man takes his leave back into the barn. 

[yeaaabudddy]

You’ve Been Missed

Ship: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Type: Smut

Requested: Yes, by anon

Words: 2 162

Notes: Honestly my first time writing smut so beware, sorry if it ain't that great but I tried!

-

Jason was gone a long time on a mission with the outlaws, you learned to live with the fact that he would be gone often not knowing when he'd be back.

It was still hard to focus when he hasn't messaged you in a while to let you know he's okay. Sleeping in an empty bed was always the worst part as you loved the heat Jason gave off because he was so big he would cover you up.

With him gone you have to cuddle more into the pillows but thankfully the weather's gotten more hot meaning you have to layer down.

You’re getting irritated in your sleep with wearing too many clothes so tonight you opted for Jason's big shirt that covers your whole frame and underwear underneath of course.

You hadn't gotten word from Jason for a while making you really worried but you know nothing good would come from you keeping yourself up, waiting for a text because he's always turned up fine so far.

Jason sometimes forgets to text you because of having a really rough day and passing out or he's still doing his duty and had no time to sleep so you understood.

You fall asleep making sure the volume on your phone was up incase you got a call from him and cuddle into the pillows beside you.

-

Jason wasn't that great with being covert sometimes. He was a pretty big guy and you guys lived in a creaky-floored apartment.  

When he came in through the window at 3am and saw you asleep he tried to be careful and pad around the room to change and get into bed with you but you could hear the unmistakable footsteps of your big boyfriend.

“Jason?” you mutter, not bothering to move your head from its comfortable position, your voice barely audible but Jason still heard it.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” he quietly says as he starts changing his jeans to some pajamas instead, taking his shirt off.

Suddenly feeling awake at the sight, you sit up in bed with your hair a bit tangled from the movements of you in your sleep and the neck of Jason's shirt on your figure dropping off your right shoulder.

“You're telling me to go to sleep as you take your shirt off.” Jason laughs as he sits next to you on his side of the bed. During your short time asleep you managed to kick most of the blankets off of you in an attempt to get rid of the heat that was making you sweat at night.

Jason’s heart beat faster as he saw how big his shirt was on you, it always surprised him how much bigger he was than you.

He laid a hand on your bare thigh, seeing how his shirt had ridden up to the tops of your thighs instead resting on the middle.

“Have I told you how much I love you in my shirts?” Jason smiled, leaning into you and placing his face in your neck, leaving small kisses.

“Please, it’s so hot Jason. I'm boiling.” You push his forehead a bit, getting him to look at you instead.

“Sorry, but I can only make you hotter sweetheart.” You roll your eyes at his comment. He was too cheesy when he got in the mood but you loved that about him.

“Maybe I don't mind being hot if it's you who's causing it.” You smiled back at him and he leaned in for a proper kiss this time and you let him.

His lips were rough against yours because they were pretty chapped as he had just come in from the window but you paid no mind to that because you missed him so much.

His arm comes to wrap around your waist as your lips move in sync, his tongue making its way into your mouth to take it further.

His other hand on your thigh travels up your leg and up your shirt to your waist, pushing you back down on the bed and hovering over you. His hands rub your sides and he breaks away from your kiss to continue leaving them on your jaw and to your collarbone.

You make more room for him by craning your neck, allowing him to kiss along your throat. He started nipping and sucking ever so slightly to make sure to leave some marks. All his moves were so slow and sensual, you could feel every single part of him on top of you. His lips moved with such emotion across your skin that it got you hot.

His hands finally go up to your chest, massaging it so gently between his hand. His fingers playing around with your nipple, pinching it making you let out a gasp. He continued on for a few minutes before getting annoyed with the amount of clothing still between you both.

His chest feeling the roughness of his shirt against it, not satisfied at being deprived of your skin against his.

“I love you in my clothes, but I need this off.” He gathers the big cloth in his hands and tugs it up fast, removing it from your figure. “Finally,” he breathes out.

Jason’s mouth kisses yours before going down to your chest and playing around with your bud. Swirling it around his tongue and then blowing air on to the sensitive area making you gasp at the sensation. Your hands are around his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

You love Jason’s hair so much, the feeling of it between your fingers and his response to you touching his hair always made you want more.

Jason didn’t stop with his motions on you and continued kissing down your body. He left a little spit trail as his tongue peeked out, the skin he kissed felt cooling to you as the air breezed around it. Your hands make their way up into his beautiful black hair, slightly pulling on it as he makes his way south.

“Ugh, I missed you so much.” You comment as he leaves a few kisses on the waistband of your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you. “Please Jay, you’re going too slow.”

Your complaints made him smile against your skin.

“I don’t know, I quite like taking it slow.” You let out a groan of frustration at his statement. You knew he was in a teasing mood today but you really needed a release. You missed your beautiful boyfriend so much and nothing can pleasure you like he can. He started kissing your body slower in response to your agitation.

“Jason, I swear-” Before you could finish your threat, he started tugging your underwear off of your legs and kissed up your thigh to get you to shut up.

Your breath quickens as his lips make their way closer to where you need him. You wait in anticipation as he continues to take his time, wanting to tease you as much as he can, hear every sound you produce after not seeing you for so long.

You would think that because it’s been so long that he would be fast and rough when he saw you next but this time he was feeling the need to slow it down and appreciate every single part of you.

Jason’s hands spread your thighs out, making sure that your legs weren’t suffocating him as his tongue spread you apart and he started to suck your clit. The technique of his tongue against you will never get old, he played around with it making it sensitive and got you wet. He was always so good with his tongue.

You groan at his movements, your back arching and your legs feeling the need to close but Jason’s firm hands didn’t allow you to move a centimeter with his tough grip. Your core was aching with the feeling of needing to be filled up.

Jason’s tongue makes its way to your entrance, slightly prodding at it, making its way partly inside. You gasp and moan at the feeling, the absence of Jason for the past few weeks really caused you to react more to his touch and he definitely noticed. The only good part of him leaving for so long was the night of pure bliss you both got when he returns.

You pulled on his hair to get him to separate with you because you knew you wanted him inside of you when you finish. He got your message and separated from you. Your juices were spread out around his lips and he licks it off, not bothering to wipe off the excess.

“I need you now.” You simply said, as you pulled his face towards yours and kissed him, tasting yourself on his tongue as it enters your mouth but you don’t let it bother you.

You pull him closer, your hands on his neck slide down to his pajama pants and grab them, sliding them off along with his boxers. You’ll never get over how big he is and you certainly missed that, nothing can satisfy you as much as he can.

You grab him by the base of his dick, running your hand over all of him, making sure to dig into his tip a bit causing him to groan at you and kiss at your chest again. You felt him harden more into your hand as you continued to jerk him off making sure to give some attention to his balls. You massage them and Jason’s hand comes to stop your hand from continuing and his mouth leaves your skin.

He was already pretty aroused by just hearing you moan and seeing you squirming underneath him, he didn’t need much more to get him going at the moment especially since he’s been waiting for this the moment he left.

His hand pushes yours onto the bed, holding it there.

“I need to feel you now.” He huffed and lined himself up to your entrance, slightly moving his tip against you and spreading you open. No need for a condom as you were on the pill -thank gosh.

“Hurry.” He quickly pushed into you, enjoying the warmth you give around him. He goes in all the way and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist and your free hand goes to his back to push him closer to you.

Your sweaty skin stuck to his, the weird sensation made you groan at the fact that it reminds you that both of you are here together right now.

His pace started slow and sensual, making you feel everything at a different level. You weren’t really used to being too slow when it came to Jason. You both usually never had much time when it came to this part of your life so you guys usually went with quick and rough.

Since he came home from a long mission, he had a few days off so sex was always the best after these missions. It made you appreciate the time you guys do have together.

Jason got impatient and sped up as he got desperate to find his release. The quiet of the night was filled with your gasps and panting along with Jason’s deep groans. You knew it was late at night and that you should be quiet or your neighbours will have many words to say to you tomorrow but his pace kept getting faster and you could hear the lewd sounds it was producing.

The rolling of his hips and the power of his thrusts made you not care anymore, bouncing a bit at every thrust. The way he was touching you and the pace he was going at made you lose your common sense as you chanted Jason’s name, your walls clenching around him in anticipation as he kept slipping in and out. His thrusts only sped up as he chased his and your release.

Soon you both released, letting out a pleased moan and he dropped on top of you (still mindful of his weight though or else you’d be crushed). You guys let yourselves catch your breaths and he slipped out of you knowing you were probably feeling over sensitive.

“I missed you so much doll.” He whispered into your neck and moved to lay on his back, beside you. He grabbed your waist, bringing you to lay half on top of him as he wanted to keep the skin contact even though you were sweating.

“I missed you too Jay but I'm literally too hot right now.” You complained, trying to pull away. His body heat did not make this better for you.

“If you can have sex, then you can cuddle.” He retorted and closed his eyes, his grip not relenting. You rolled your eyes, laying your head back onto his chest and you both started to drift off slowly. Just content with being together.

[cloudyjoongie]

Keeper of My Heart ( Boyfriend Jeong Yunho Imagine) FLUFF+ANGST+MOSTLY FLUFF

Hello, I am back and unfortunately, burnt out. It is only the beginning of the semester and I completely found myself having to juggle through five classes of school work (If you are a college student, I don’t recommend this) and my job. I haven’t had a great night’s sleep considering the circumstances nor days off. I’ve deleted most of social media accs and this was the only time I have had access and given myself time to let my mind just relax through this next imagine. I know I promised a Yunho imagine and I apologize for the delay. But here it is now.

If you are a struggling college student as I am, or even someone who is an unhealthy ‘booked and busy’ workaholic, you need this Yunho in your life. And please, give yourself enough time to rest through it all, but don’t quit. You can do this, whoever you are. You will see your light at the end of the tunnel (I wish that light was Ateez huhu). 

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

Song Recommendation:  CHILDDIAHN(차일디안) — Will You Be My Weekend (Feat. G. Nine) (Prod. KOLLOFF)

The days accompany you like oxygen. The day is for work and nights are also, well, for work. Caffeine has been a close friend at this point as you constantly glue yourself to your desk, consisting of nothing else but book over books and the continuously sickening blue light emitting from your laptop. You were tired, but there was no way sleep could get in between this; not even a nap. If you were in a 5k run, you were almost way ahead of the game than the people who were normally at the average pace. Yes, a workaholic you are, and you knew of the consequences that your body will face, but one or two sleepless nights will not matter in the long run of establishing your career. All these hard work is of great importance than you are, says your ego.

But along with your ignorance, Yunho saw that you were at the brink. He has kept a close eye on you even in days when you rejected a date or even a video call with him. 

“Baby, I need to study for this exam before I go in for work.” That was all Yunho heard at the other end of the line. 

At this point, even if Yunho craved for your joyous attention after all the stress that he, too, has been going through, he does not matter when he should be looking out for your health more. What kind of boyfriend would he be for not looking out for the woman he loved? The woman who is more accompanied with excessive workload than of comfort? 

It was something he most loved and most hated about you: Independence. He loved that you carried yourself like the strong woman you are. It was the reason he fell for you other than the first time he saw your beauty. But if that same independence that you carried will be your downfall, then it was time for him to come into the scene. 

So that night, your train of thought was ultimately disturbed when you opened the door to find a hooded man at your doorstep with grocery bags and a smile on his face. This left you confused. 

“Yunho, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be asleep for promotions right now?”

“Noona, promotions was done a long time ago. And besides, may I remind you that you have a boyfriend too?”, You smiled. 

“I know, but I have to-”

“Study. I know. But study can wait. Jeong Yunho can’t.” And with that, he comes in to your room and there, he saw so much coffee cups and empty bags of chips laying on the ground. This was enough for Yunho to know that not only did you have not time for him, but you were rejecting yourself as well. Once again, you sat on your desk which defeated the purpose of Yunho coming there to bond with you. 

So while you were busy on your own planet, Yunho cleaned up your place. Unbeknownst to you, Yunho was controlling himself not to burst, knowing full well in the back of his mind how important your college work was to you.

To clear the atmosphere, Yunho heated up two ramen bowls for you had the little table set for the two of you to eat. The aroma from the noodles called out to you so bad, but couldn’t bring yourself to budge.

“Noona, food is ready.”

“Go ahead, love. I’m still on this thing.” 

“C’mon Noona. We have not had a date in so long. I’d love that we could do it tonight over ramen.”, you turned around with obvious irritation across your face.

“Yunho, I appreciate this a lot but my school work can’t do itself. So if you could, please go ahead without me. I will be fine.” Yunho’s eyes went slightly dark. 

“I have been doing that the whole time.”, Yunho scoffed. 

“Then you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” Your words came out without thought and with that, Yunho threw his chopsticks across the room. Still trying to find enough patience through controlling his breathing as he was about to get his point across the woman whose shoulder hung at her desk.

“You know what, Y/N, I have had it with staying silent and tolerating this. You have been so stubborn this past few weeks and not even to me, but yourself to. You can’t admit to yourself that you are at the brink of all this work. You can’t even admit it to me because of your godforsaken ego.” His words echoed in the room as you try as much as you can to ignore his words. 

“But you know what, I don’t care anymore.", He says a little softer this time. "I don’t care about your college work, your due dates, and exams, and whatever else is occupying your time. It’s my turn to have a say in this and I am so tired. I am tired of you not looking out for yourself when that was the best thing I loved about you. You can’t even give yourself atleast a good night’s sleep. I am tired of not being able to reach out to you because you won’t let me. That is why I am here.” 

You fought back the tears.

“Baby, I am tired too. I know what it is like to stress out, not having the time for yourself. Physically and mentally weak but you have to put up by having the best smile. I know what it is like. That’s why I have days and nights when I craved for your attention but you, you can’t even leave your desk and no one will stop you. I need you so much and I know you do too. But right now, I know you can do good without me, heck, you’re already great at pretending I don’t exist in your life. I miss the girl who would encourage me not to quit for anything, but if that same girl is also in need of the same help, I would gladly give my whole dedication and self to her. Because I love her so much. But she just won’t accept me because she thinks she is better off on her own.” Tears began falling from your cheeks. They also began falling from his. 

“So, you choose. If you still want me in your life, if you think you are good on your own and if you no longer need me. Just say the word, I would walk out that door right now even if it will be hard for me to do so. Anyone would walk out on you right now but me, I want it to be your choice because if it were up to me, there is still hope but I’m leaving it up to you now.”

Silence filled the room. dreadfully silent and from there, Yunho knew your silence was a yes. You were always good at keeping the noise at bay if it meant that you needed to get your stuff across. It hurts for him to walk away but he was no longer needed in your space. But as Yunho was about to stand up, you started to sniffle and cry silent but loud enough for him to hear. You shook so hard and had your hands entangle in your hair. You turned from your desk with hands on your face, wet and glossy from the unending tears that came falling down. Yunho’s heart softens from the sight, that the woman he knew who was strong was now vulnerable.  And there, you got up from your desk for the first time and sat on his lap as he enveloped you in the tightest and gentle way when his arms wrap around you. You kept crying as your tears fell to his hoodie, savoring the smell you missed so much and the comfort you found in his warmth. 

“Baby, please don’t leave me.” You told him. and He reassures you. “I am so sorry for not being there. I am sorry for not giving you time when you needed it. You could have left me and yet you’re still here.”

“Ssh, I won’t ever leave you. not now, not ever. You are the most important person in my life right now and I love you so much. I love you too much to walk away from you. I understand you have a lot on your plate right now but I just hate that you are not taking care of yourself. You are the smartest and most hardworking person I know, but you have to learn how to rest without quitting, love. I would hate myself if something bad ever happened to you.”

"I'm so so tired. I'm stressed out and I know that you see it too. I just feel like I don't have time for anything else. That's all I know now. I'm exhausted, Yunho."

"I know, love. I know you are." He says as draws circles on your back to calm down. He kept you there till your demons are hushed and calmed down. This was the first time in a long time you both held each other so close. And once you have calmes down, you rose your head to face him with a smile on your face. And there it was, the smile that Yunho needed to ease his stress away. The girl he fell in love with and will always fall for. 

“I am so goddamn lucky to have you in my life, Jeong Yunho. I don’t deserve you.I love you so much, please don’t forget that.” Yunho smiles at you and leans his forehead over yours.

“Of course you deserve me. I love you more, Y/N, always.” And with that, he angles his head as his lips closes in with yours, inhaling his exhale and vise versa. Your hands tangled with his hair and his hands tightened around your waist. your bodies became one at last after so long. Yunho lets go, leaving you breathless and slightly frustrated.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too for yelling. I don't know what came at me."

“I missed you.”

“I missed you so much more.” You both smiled. Yunho breaks the silence.

“Now, why don’t we have a nice meal before the soup gets cold and before I square up with your desk for taking my girlfriend away from me.” You laughed and there, the two of you sat in content with the just the company of each other, not letting anything else come between the both of you even just tonight. 

----

now, I want a Yunho boyfriend wth. i cry.